Unneeded

By: Insanity's Pen

A/N: So this is a really short drabble that those little annoyances called plot bunnies gave to me. It probably won't get any longer than this. Historically inaccurate. Flame away!

"Angleterre, I'm giving you the boy." Francis said one cold, dark night. The British man froze, teacup still against his lips. Slowly he turned his head to meet cold blue eyes.

"What? Don't be stupid France, you can't do that. He's your son!" Arthur tried to reason. France calmly took a sip of his own tea.

"And he's your son's brother, his twin." He replied.

"But why? You simply can't give up your own son!"

"I no longer have any use for him." Was the cold reply.

~X~

"Mathieu, you are going to be staying with Papa England and your big brother America for a few days while I run some errands." France told the child.

"Oui, Papa!" the child had smiled and hugged him. It took him all he had not to cancel those so called plans and opt instead to simply take the boy for a carriage ride.

~X~

"Papa Angleterre, when is Papa coming for me?" Canada asked as he tugged softly at the older man's shirt. England froze, eyes wide, before he slowly reached down and pulled the innocent boy into his arms. Oh, how England wished he didn't have to break this child's heart.

"Matthew, let's have a little chat…"

~X~

"Francis, it's been three weeks! The child won't eat, he won't speak, he won't respond, and he won't come out of that bloody room!" the Englishman ranted. "Every time I ask him to do something, he glares at me and walks off! I tried to put him and Alfred to sleep, but he only sat in bed and stayed up all night. How a child can forego sleep for that long is beyond me! He's become worse than Alfred!"

"I don't need him. I could have left him to die all alone, but Spain and Prussia convinced me otherwise. That's why I gave him to you instead." France said as he stood in front of a window and watched the storm outside.

"But why? Why would you just give him up like that?" England gritted out.

"Because with you he has a chance to grow, to become someone. I wouldn't have been so kind."

England remained silent as he ground his teeth together in anger.

"Take him back. Take back your son, Francis. He's not happy with me. The child hates me."

France's eyes stared blindly in the pouring white rain, not really seeing anything.

"That makes two of us."