Despite the cheery day outside, it still wasn't right. It didn't work. Everything was perfect except his dang painting. Francis gave a short sigh of irritation before standing up to pace around the room. Arthur glanced at the artist quietly as he floated along. The french artist felt his spine tingle and looked over his shoulder. His gaze was met by nothing. He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. "I must being imagining things," he laughed nervously.

"Fran..."

Francis jumped and looked around the room again. "H-hello?" He called out tentatively. Silence ensued. "Anyone there?" Nothing. Satisfied that nothing seemed to be there, Francis turned back to his painting.

"Fran..."

Francis turned back around. "Who's there?"

"Francis..."

"Where are you?" The painter asked.

"Help... me..."

Francis began panicking as he heard the voice ask for help. "How? I can't even see you."

"Please..." The voice cried desperately.

"What do you need help with?" Francis whispered in a hushed tone.

"Help me." Arthur sobbed.

"But I don't know how," Francis cried out.

"Help!" Arthur screamed. "He's going to kill me!" Francis bee-lined it for the phone. It must be one of my neighbors, he thought. He then remembered he had no neighbours. Francis dropped the phone onto the receiver and just stared at the table, running through possible explanations for the voice.

"Francis, please..." Arthur sobbed.

"I'm sorry'" Francis said, his voice cracking. "I don't know how." Leaving his spot by the phone, Francis moved towards the shadow hesitantly. "Hello?" The shadow moved down the hall. Francis followed the shadow down the hall, refusing to let it out of his sight. As he walked towards his studio, the shadow disappeared into the room. Francis carefully opened the door and glanced inside. It lingered, beginning to form a clearer shape. The frenchman rubbed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing. It formed into the figure of a short man with shaggy blonde hair wearing a jumper.

"W- who are you?" Francis asked.

"Its okay, Arthur." The spirit murmured to himself. "He can't find you here."

"Who are you hiding from?" Francis asked the spirit.

"He won't hurt you if you stay quiet." Arthur seemed unable to hear him.

Francis reached out to Arthur. "Hey-" Arthur flinched and nearly disappeared. "Wait!" Francis pleaded.

"Who are you?! What are you doing here?!" Arthur hissed. "He'll get you too!"

"Who will?" The artist asked tilting his head.

"He's coming!"

"Who is?"

Arthur's eyes tugged on Francis' hand. "You have to leave."

"Why?" Francis asked, taking a step closer.

"He'll hurt you like-" A loud bang made Arthur's eyes widen before he disappeared. Francis swung around to face the source of the bang. There was nothing there. Upon seeing this, he turned back to where he had seen Arthur, but he was gone too. Francis plopped down in the nearest chair and ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what had just happened. He then noticed one of the old picture frames hid something behind it. Francis quickly got up and moved the frame. Behind it was a hidden door. He moved everything around it and pulled open the door. Inside contained a beat up journal. Francis frowned and cracked the mauled journal open. It held handwritten words - a diary. The frenchman frowned and opened the tattered cover before beginning to read. Inside contained the details of Arthur's life. The same man Francis had seen. Francis frowned and continued to search for details about what Arthur could have been speaking about. Only to find it. When he found it, Francis nearly dropped the book. It was horrifying. Francis slowly closed the book and covered his face with his hands. "Francis?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Is he gone yet?"

"Oui. Yes he's gone, Arthur, " Francis murmured.

"Promise?" Arthur whispered. Francis nodded, not bothering to wipe away the tears running down his face. Arthur rushed to the Frenchman's side. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Non, he didn't," Francis comforted the Englishman softly, not looking up from the cover of the journal.

Arthur relaxed. "Good. I don't want you hurt." He looked down in the Frenchman's hands. "Why do you have my diary?" Francis shrugged absently and continued looking at the tattered book silently. "Francis?'

"Hm...?"

"Are you alright?"

"Oui..."

"You don't seem alright."

"I... I just..."

"What is it, Francis?" Francis gestured toward the book unable to speak. "What about it?"

"How could I have forgotten about you? You needed me," the Frenchman whispered, tears rising in his eyes.

"Francis..."

"Is it because of me that he killed you?" Francis asked.

"Of course not!" Francis leaned forward and buried his face in his arms. "Francis?"

"Oui?"

"Are you alright?"

Francis took a deep breath and looked up. "Oui."

"Please just come with me." The artist stood and followed Arthur. Arthur led him to the painting he was working on. Francis simply frowned at the his painting. It was of the British man himself.

"How on Earth did I not notice this?" Francis muttered to himself.

"Notice what?"

"That I painted a lovely picture of you."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Then what's the problem?"

"There is no problem now that you're here," Francis murmured.

"Are you sure?"

"Oui."

"Francis?"

"Hm?"

"Do... Do you still love me?"

"Of course I do!"

"Even if..."

"If?"

"Ah..." Arthur gestured to himself.

"I don't mind, " Francis smiled.

"Francis?"

"Oui?"

"I love you."

"Je te aime aussi."

"I... I think I know a way to come back."

Francis' head popped up. "What?" He asked in surprise.

"I... I know..."

"It's possible...?"

"Y-yes-"

Francis smiled gently at him. "How?"

"I... There's a book..."

"A book?"

"In my office. On my desk." The Frenchman stood and immediately headed for Arthur's office, purpose filling his every stride. "Francis, its on my desk."

Francis raised an eyebrow. "Where exactly?" He asked looking at the mess of paper on Arthur's desk.

Arthur blushed. "On the bottom." He mumbled. Francis sighed and shuffled through the many papers and books on the desk. "Sorry..."

"For having a messy desk?" The artist teased.

"Yes."

"Well it's definitely not the worst I've seen." Arthur blushed deeper. After a few more minutes of digging, Francis pulled a worn book out of the stack.

"That's the one!'

Francis eyed the book cautiously. "Now what?"

"Turn to page three hundred and ninety four."

"Err..." Francis mumbled when he got to the page. "I don't know how to perform spells though..."

"You can do it."

"How do I start?" He asked.

"Read it." Francis began reading the jumbled passage pausing only at "dumbdoratheexplora" until he reached the bottom of the page. Arthur blushed as he reached those passages. Finally the last words of the spell left Francis' mouth and he looked up to Arthur. Arthur gave a shudder before collapsing into the Frenchman's arms. Francis held Arthur in a hug and made no attempt to wipe away the tears streaming down his face. Arthur gave a shallow breath. "F-Francis?"

"Yes, mon amour?"

"I..." He reached to touch his grinned wildly and pulled the Englishman into a deep kiss. Arthur kissed back deeply. "I missed you." He breathed against the other's lips.

"I missed you too," Francis answered, stroking Arthur's hair.

"I'll never leave you again." Francis smiled gently and buried his face into Arthur's shoulder. "I love you."

Francis smirked slightly. "I know; how could you not?" He joked.

Arthur smacked him teasingly. "Shut up, frog."

"Only if you make some of your dreadful tea," Francis laughed.

Arthur gave a mock pout. "It is not dreadful!"

"Whatever you say, mon cher," Francis teased gently. Arthur pouted more. Francis giggled and pulled Arthur into a kiss.

Arthur shivered. "Francis..." Francis smile mischievously and put a finger to Arthur's lips, silencing him. Arthur blushed but was quiet. The artist held his love close, savoring their time together. Arthur shivered

"Are you cold?" Francis asked. "I don't think the heater is working very well."

"No I just need you to warm me." The frenchman smiled and hugged his lover even closer. "I love you."

"Je te aime aussi."

"Francis?"

"Hm?"

"I..."

"What's wrong Arthur?"

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, but it's okay now. We're together again."

"Promise?"

"Oui."

"Swear it."

"I swear on everything I hold to value, that I will never leave you."

Arthur seemed to relax. "Good."

Francis chuckled quietly. "But I could go for a cup of your tea."

Arthur blushed. "P-pervert!" He stuttered.

"I didn't mean it that way," Francis told the Englishman, doubled over with laughter.

"Liar!"

"Hon hon hon," was the only response that Francis could utter.

"Shut up!" Francis just gave him a wide grin while Arthur gave a pout. Francis hugged the wizard to his chest, still smiling as he did so. "Prat."

"How cruel," Francis moaned dramatically.

"You're the one being mean!"

"Nonsense! I am never cruel," he huffed, flipping his hair theatrically.

"Are too!"

"How can you say such a thing?" Francis asked while fake sobbing.

Arthur scoffed. "Maybe I should have gone into the light."

"I'm glad you didn't," Francis told him.

"Doesn't seem like it."

Francis snorted. "You know I'm teasing you."

Arthur smirked. "I know." Francis leaned back and smiled absently.

"Are you okay?"

"Oui."

"You sure?"

"I'm always sure, mon cher."

"Promise?"

"Of course."

Arthur blushed. "Prove it?"

Francis leaned over and kissed Arthur. "Is that enough proof for you?"

"No." He replied cheekily.

"Hmm..." Francis murmured. "Whatever shall I do?"

"I don't know." Francis leaned his head on Arthur's shoulder and sighed tiredly. Arthur kissed his cheek lovingly. "Tired?"

Francis sighed softly. "Oui, but I could stay here with you all night."

"I would like that."

"I know you would."

Arthur chuckled. "I love you."

"Je te aime davantage," Francis smiled.

"Always have to outdo me."

"It's my job, mon cher."

Arthur scoffed. "Whatever." Francis just laughed and kissed the top of Arthur's head. Arthur sighed in content. "I'm so glad I'm back."

"I'm glad too," Francis told him.