(This is a fanfic I thought about ever since I developed a 3tp. *three people that are my true pairing* Scotland, France, and Spain are wonderful.. my OTP for life is FRAIN, but I ship Scotland and France quite a bit.. and now I developed the 3tp.. with France being the middle bitch~ However, this fanfic does not involve the three of them doing the frick frack. This is a more dark side of my 3tp.. and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it~)

Stay With Me

"Allistor! Mon dieu... please s-stop!" A shrill voice cried. Something crashed against a wall, smashing into a million pieces. Thank goodness the man who cried out before dodged it in perfect time.. he might have lost his head!

A larger man, the one known as Allistor, was grasping anything that was near him and tossing it towards a smaller man, wanting to hurt him. Francis, the smaller one, was almost fighting for his life as his drunken lover was raging through the house. "Syjuu think juu can... f-foooll me Francisss," the Scotsman's words were horridly slurred,

"I know juu weere ssseeing...phim.."

"Allistor, please, I don't know what you're talking about! You're not making any-!" The blonde was cut off by another crash beside his head. The fire-haired man had thrown a chair at him! Francis looked up, fear shaking his eyes, at Allistor's hulking body. He was much bigger than the Frenchman and, with one swing, could kill him instantly, especially when he was this drunk..

This happened often; Allistor coming home in a drunken stupor. However, Francis would always be able to calm him down, maybe give him a cup of tea, and that would be the end of it. This night was particularly different. For some rather strange reason, the Scotsman had devised this theory that Francis was fooling around with someone else, even after the fact that the two had been together for almost six years. There was even a pretty little engagement ring adorning Francis's finger.

Who that someone was, the poor Frenchman had no idea, but whoever Allistor thought it was, they certainly got his blood boiling. Now, Francis was trying his best to survive the man tonight and hopefully attempt to make amends the next morning. From the looks of the situation, that most likely was not going to happen.

With his back against the wall, Francis's hands felt around for the doorknob into the kitchen, but to no avail. He shook violently as his lover slowly, and clumsily, made his way towards his direction. He could hear his heart beat clear as his own screaming earlier before. The sound thumped in his ears, ringing through his chest and rattling his lungs, causing his breath to stagger.

Allistor, now face to face with Francis, breathed heavily, slumping his body onto the blonde's. Francis could smell the stale stench of beer on his tongue, his face scrunched from the whiff of the wretched poison; the poison that tainted his love's mind causing him to be this way.. He cursed every last drop the Scott had ever drank.

"Allistor..?" he began softly, "Please, mon amour, let's just go to bed..." the feeble man pleaded. Somehow, he needed to get through to him, just for a moment so he could get him to go to sleep. The Scotsman's head lazily rolled up to lock his eyes with the blonde's. "Mmm.. Francss... do juu enjoy... cheatnng on mee?" he asked in a more intense tone. His voice dropped an octave, causing a shiver to run up Francis's spine. The poor man was trembling like a lost pup, his body just wouldn't move an inch.

Francis tentatively placed a hand on Allistor's chest, pushing him away gently, "Mon amour.. I don't know what you're talking about. Please, let's just go to bed and we can talk about this tom-"

"AYYEE piss off... we are talkinng abott it... *hic*.. now!"

"Allistor, please!" The blonde cried desperately. As if he had no control over himself, Francis began pounding his fist on the Scot's chest. This was probably not the best idea on the Frenchman's part, but he couldn't take it anymore. If he was going to get through to Allistor, he needed to use force. "Stop! Stop! Please STOP!" His voice took on that high shrill scream, his fist continuously pounding Allistor's thick torso. The redhead took this as a challenge and found himself catching Francis's wrist in his hand. His grip was so tight, a slight squeak escaped the blonde's lips. This was not good..

"Allistor.. p-please..." the blonde's voice trembled. He stared at the large hand clutching his thin wrist. Before the blonde could even take another breath, the Scotsman had his other hand wrapped around his fiancé's fragile, little neck. "Hchh! A-Allis-!" Francis squealed, his free had clawing at Allistor's. Why?! He has never been this way before.. he was going too far this time.

His vision was beginning to fail.. specks of black and white were flashing in front of him and his voice was becoming more muffled with each passing second. The blonde couldn't tell if he was pleading for his love to stop, or if he was just choking on the words he wanted to say.

"I-I can't... breath! Ach.. Allistor...!"

Tears began falling from Francis's eyes, his vision not only failing, but becoming blurred. The only thing he could make out was the fiery scruffy hair that flashed in front of him. His feet were no longer touching the floor; Allistor had him in the air, pressing him tighter against the wall. Whatever came out of the Scotsman's mouth next was all empty muffles to Francis. The next thing he knew, a searing pain surged through one side of his body. Either hit, or tossed to the floor, Francis could only close his lids. The last thing his blurred blue eyes saw was Allistor's knees dropping beside him.