"Sey dear, please stop swinging that thing around, you are going to knock something over! Mattie! Put that down! Don't eat so much of- ALFRED! Give me that now! Those are Papa's 'picture books' not yours!" An Englishman exasperatedly brushed his messy blonde hair back, "Francis…" he asked, desperately turning to his lover, the back of a young tan-skinned girl's shirt gripped firmly in his hand merely pointing to a young American who sat, intently staring at one of the Frenchman's magazines, and his brother who sat at the table, guzzling down a bottle of maple syrup.
Francis chuckled, "Matthieu, Alfred would you like to go on a shopping trip with papa?" He asked, his sweet French accent drawing the boys' attentions away from their former practices.
"You really have a way with them, Francis…" The Englishman leaned towards the gorgeous nation as his daughter attempted to free herself from his grasp.
The Frenchman's bubbly laugh rang pleasantly through the house as he brought his lips against Arthur's unsuspecting mouth.
"Eww!" The North American twins squealed as they tried to pull their parents away from each other.
"Oh, was I forgetting something?" Arthur grinned, pulling away from Francis' delicate lips and bending to his sons' levels. They grinned mischievously and bundled themselves into the Englishman's arms.
He chuckled and kissed them both, "Now you two better have fun with your papa." His gentle hands took theirs, bringing them to his lover's car. "They're all yours."
"And dear Sey is all yours." Francis winked, lending Arthur another gentle kiss.
"Goodbye!" The Englishman waved as they pulled out of the driveway, then led Seychelles into the house. "So since it's just you and me, what would you like to do?"
"Hmm…" The young islander looked thoughtful for a moment, her large hazel eyes twinkling with anticipation, "Tea party!" She cried.
"Alright!" Arthur forced an enthusiastic smile as he began to prepare some tea.
Soon enough after multiple attempts at making scones, and lots of spilt milk they were sitting in the living room, enjoying their little tea party. iI wonder how Francis is doing. Is he having fun with the boys? We haven't gone out in a long time…I wonder if-/i
"Daddy England! Somebody is at the door!" Arthur's thoughts were broken as a continuous knocking ran through the house.
"Oh, I didn't think that Francis would be back so early… Hello?" He grasped the brass door handle and opened it.
"Hello, iArthur/i." A tall blonde woman sneered down at him, catching him off guard.
"Natalia? What are you doing here?" Sudden memories of his old fling began to hit him. Why on earth was she here?
"Nothing you need to know." The Belarusian invited herself in.
"Seychelles, go into the kitchen for a minute… daddy will be right there."
"Okay," Seychelles quickly made her way to the table, unsure of what was going on.
She listened intently as the strange woman spoke to her father. She detected hate, jealousy, anger and sarcasm. She let an eerie fear begin to settle in, catching odd clips of the conversation.i "…left me for him…", "…worthless children! How could you?...", "…I see how far this has gone…"/i Slipping her hand silently around the phone, Seychelles sat under the table bringing her knees to her chest. This didn't seem right. Who was that strange woman?
"I need you to do something for me," Natalia whipped out a blade that she had been concealing behind her back and drew a trail of blood from Arthur's bare arm to which she laughed, "Summon my brother." She finished, licking her lips. The Englishman cringed as she pressed the bloody weapon into his neck.
"I can't. It is against the law to summon people with Black Magic"
"Since when?"
"Since-" he was cut off as he felt a warm liquid dripping down his neck.
"I suggest you abide to my bidding." Came a sinister hiss as he was shoved towards the basement. He gasped loudly for air as he was pushed down the stairs.
"My, my, what on earth happened since we dated?" The Belarusian inquired with mock sympathy. Arthur continued to glare at her from where he lay as she picked him up and shoved him forward.
"'ere is your creme glacee!" Francis sing-songed to Matthieu and Alfred as they walked through the mall.
"Papa, I want an Action figure!" The young American boy grinned.
"Well, Al-" The loud ringer of his cellphone cut him off, "Bonjour?"
"Papa!" Seychelles' voice blubbered over the phone. What was wrong, she would only use his cell number in emergencies.
"Ma chere, quelle est le problem?"
"Papa! Some strange lady is at our house!"
"Strange lady? Now Sey-"
"Papa! She has long blonde hair with a bow and dark blue eyes… I think she had a …" Seychelles gulped and dropped her voice, "A knife with her…"
"Mon dieu!" Francis cried, looking to Alfred and Matthieu. "Seychelles, keep yourself 'idden. We will be right there!"
"Oui Papa." Instant thoughts of the Belarusian who'd made his and Arthur's lives hell for their past years together flew through his mind.
"Papa why are we stopping here?" Matthieu asked as Francis pulled into a driveway that was clearly not theirs.
"Because you will be safe 'ere. Gilbert is a great 'elp and I would not trust Antonio avec mes enfants… Besides, you will 'ave Ludwig to play with." The Frenchman explained as he dropped the off. Time was precious and could not afford to be wasted.
"You say you're a magician, skilled in the arts of Black Magic… well where is my brother?" Natalia's voice had dropped to a low, menacing hiss as Arthur flipped frantically through his spell book. He purposely skipped over the right spell to buy himself some time. "Hurry up!" She screamed, striking him hard across the face, causing him to stumble to his knees. He reached up with one hand to touch his stinging cheek. If he could buy enough time Seychelles could either get out or call the police. He at least hoped. Hope was all he had now. He thought of his beloved. The beautiful Frenchman with golden locks and an always fresh smile. He could almost smell the scent of wine that always trailed the sophisticated man. He continued flipping through the book, trying to block out the pain as the Belarusian sunk the weapon into his shoulder.
"I-I cant seem to find a spell, Bella." He lied.
"Find it!" She wrenched the blade around causing a shriek of pain to fill the room.
"Sey?" Francis made sure not to make too much noise as he entered their home. He ran into the kitchen and looked for the young girl.
"Papa! Papa!" She sobbed, running into his open arms for a hug, "I'm so scared… she wasn't friendly!"
"Listen, Ange… take the phone and call the police, now."
"Oui, Papa." The young, tan, girl said, dialing as her French parent left the room.
He quietly made his way down the steps, listening to the sharp, cruel demands of Natalia. i'ow did she get in 'ere?/i he wondered as his foot slipped in some sort of liquid, iblood? Oh mon dieu… Angleterre…/i
"Please, stop. I almost found it."
"You've flipped through that book over three times already. Now I know you're playing with me. It's my turn to play with you."
Francis gasped and ran forward, grabbing the Belarusian and throwing her to the ground. Along with her, fell Arthur's body, much to the Frenchman's dismay. Dark snickering filled the room and Natalia sat up, looking intently to her blade. She smiled at Francis who knelt beside his lover angrily. He scooped Arthur up in his arms and continued to glare protectively.
"Take one more step near 'im and you will see what I 'ave for you!" He growled. Natalia crawled forward, barely avoiding a kick as she drove the knife into Francis' leg. He yelped furiously, managing one kick, giving himself and Arthur some distance. "Angleterre, answer me! S'il vous plait?" His voice came in a ragged, distraught whisper as he held the Englishman's body close.
"Nuisance!" Natalia had managed to make her way over and had the knife planted firmly against Francis' neck.
"D-Don't m-move…" Rasped Arthur, reaching up and weakly slipping his fingers between the knife and his lover's neck.
Natalia glared down, beaming at his feeble attempts. "I thought I'd ridden you." She sneered, drawing blood from his hand. "I will go right through. I will end both of you, unless you can summon my brother… or…" The Belarusian looked thoughtful for a moment. The moment in which her arms were grabbed by two men.
"Freeze! It's the police!"
"Let go of me!" Natalia screamed, spitting at her defeaters as they dragged her away. "I will be back! I will be back!" Her ferocious screams rang through the air as she finally vanished out of sight.
"Angleterre… Angleterre!" Francis choked as he gently kissed his lover's cheek. The Englishman looked at him with his green drowsy eyes, lacking their usual lustre.
"I- I love you Francis…"
"You are going to be okay… Promise me Arthur!" Francis sobbed, rubbing his cheek against Arthur's.
The Englishman smiled, he was happy. Happy to be held by the one he loved most. Happy that he would no longer have to suffer as he felt his body giving in. He allowed his eyes to flutter shut and his breathing to slow drastically. This would be it. He would no longer have to worry. He would be free. But he would miss his dear family… Francis' crazy flirting and never-ending affection. Seychelles and her beautiful smiles that always made his day. Matthieu and his sweetness, kindness and strange innocence ihe probably got that from me…/i the English nation figured. Lastly, Alfred and his loud self, the kid was just one to love. iBut I won't get to say goodbye to them… I can't hold on any longer…/i Arthur cringed, opening his eyes again. The happiness had suddenly vanished; replaced with a dark sense of loneliness. "I- want to say goodbye…" He muttered through strained tears. Francis kissed him again and again.
"Anglettere, you must live! Our children need you… do not leave me alone… do not leave them…iI need you…/i" The Frenchman's sobs tore at Arthur's heart. The thought of his children hearing that he was no longer with them stabbed at the beating vessel deep inside him.
"I must live…" He repeated the words. "I must live…" Again. No matter how hard he tried, or willed, his heart continued to slow. "Francis… promise me you will take good care of them… I love you… I love you all." Arthur's lips trembled as he painfully forced those last words out, then closed his eyes as his chest rose then fell for the last time.
"Au revoir… Mon Angleterre… I promise you." Francis gently kissed the Englishman's lips for the last time. His heart swelling miserably as he felt for a pulse. The slightest glimmer of hope vanished as he found none.
He jumped as a firm, yet gentle hand grasped his shoulder, "Is he…"
"Oui." Francis turned to see a police sanding behind him. The man's eyes narrowed sympathetically as he led the distraught Frenchman away from his deceased love.
"You should get your leg taken care of…"
"I will be fine." Francis replied almost coldly… a lonely emptiness settling in.
The funeral took place the following evening. Francis stood stiffly, Seychelles trembling hand grasping his left and both Matthieu and Alfred clinging to his right. "Will daddy ever come back, papa?"
She did not understand.
Her innocence broke the Frenchman's heart as he replied, "I am afraid non…"
"Pourquoi?" Seychelles asked.
"I will explain at 'ome…" Francis sighed and leaned against Gilbert's arm. Antonio stood solemnly at his other side.
"This is all my fault. I am so sorry, Francis." A tall Russian with milky-coloured hair walked up to the Frenchman.
"Non… Ivan. This is no one's fault." Francis began gently, staring into the Russian's sorrowful amethyst orbs. "Per'aps it was 'is time… Je ne sais pas… and I will not try to figure out. All I know is that we cannot live for yesterday nor for tomorrow. We must live for the present, pour au jour d'hui."
"I suppose you are right. Though I would still like you to accept my apology, along with my condolences." Ivan gently reminded him.
"Oui, Merci." Francis bowed his head, his usually kept, but now tangled hair falling messily around his face. Ivan slowly moved away, replaced by Gilbert who stood holding his younger brother's hand and Antonio who had young Lovino in his arms.
"Come. We are going to your house." The albino Prussian gently began to guide his distraught friend towards his car. Seychelles looked at her papa, wondering curiously why he was acting this way. Matthieu and Alfred decided to stay quiet, not wanting to hurt their sister as they made their way home in silence.
"I hope Papa will be alright, Al." The Canadian dragged his brother aside to chat silently. The American shot an uneasy glance at his parent who sat at the table with his face in his hands.
"I'm sure he will… Just give him time… I'm sure with Gil and Antonio there for him, he'll be his usual self in no time!"
"I just hope he doesn't have too much rouble taking care of us three!"
"You're right! Him and daddy always- Matt!"
"What?"
"What if he gets rid of one of us?"
"Or two?" Matthieu stuttered but was answered by a warm, yet weak hug.
"Nonsense." Spoke a saddened French accent. "You are my babies and I will always love you. Do not think silly thoughts…" Francis tended a gentle kiss to both brothers' cheeks, holding them close. "You are all I 'ave left of 'im… you are 'is too…" He whispered. Matthieu nodded understanding, as did his brother who snuggled into his papa's cheek. From now on, it was only them four, Francis, Matthieu, Alfred and Seychelles. But Arthur would still always be a part of them and live forever in their broken hearts.