Arthur headed for the nap room and woke Alfred up.

"Are we gonna go home?" the little boy yawned.

"Not yet, ya little tyke," Arthur explained, ruffling up his sons hair. "We still haven't found Matthew."

"Isn't he still playing hide-n-seek?" the boy asked a little drowsily.

"What do you mean?"


Francis ran to the front door and searched the parking lot, calling for his son. The little boy was nowhere to be found and soon Gilbert and Elizaveta ran outside to join him.

"What are you doing?" his albino friend asked.

"I don't think Matthew could have gotten outside," the Hungarian assured him. "I make sure to leave the door closed."

"Yea, but he doesn't," the Frenchman growled at Gilbert.

"What are you even talking-" the German began until he realized. "When I came in, I didn't shut the door behind me." The albino felt like he was going to throw up. "I am so sorry Francis, that was so not awesome of me," he looked around hectically as if he was trying to come up with a plan. "We can call the police! We will find him! I promise!" Francis knew that his friend hadn't done it on purpose but that didn't stop him from hating his guts right now. The Frenchman sighed and followed the others inside. Elizaveta was calling the police from her cell when Arthur came bursting into the front room. The other three jumped at the sight of the racing Englishman as he flailed into the room. As he caught his breath he looked up at the other adults.

"I think I can find out where he is," he smiled. Without another word, the others followed him into the back until they met Alfred by the ball pit.

"Where did you say he was, son?" Arthur asked.

"We was playing hide-n-seek over here," the little boy remembered pointing at the ball pit.

"When?" asked Elizaveta.

"When you guys were running around playing tag," Alfred said.

"We weren't playing tag, we were looking for Matthew," explained Arthur.

"So was I," he explained.

"But you found him?"

"No, that was before."

"Before what?"

"Before the burgers!" he said angrily. He couldn't see why these grown ups didn't understand something so obvious. Arthur closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose with three fingers, breathed deeply and counted back from five. He had a problem with his temper and he was trying to remember the steps he learned in his classes to manage it. Francis merely looked at the boy, disheartened. He didn't know where his son was.

"I'll call the police," Gilbert whispered to him. Arthur opened his eyes and looked at them.

"The police? Why? He has to be here somewhere right?" Gilbert merely went back to the front with Elizaveta while Francis slipped back into his depressed position on the floor. The Englishman didn't understand what was going on. They were going to find this kid; they had to. He checked his watch, it was getting pretty late. It was almost Alfred's bedtime and he had that big project to work on, but he couldn't leave. He wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing he had left this man in his time of need, so he walked over the Frenchman.

"We're going to find him," he said assuredly. Francis didn't lift his head from his knees.

"I want to believe that."

"Hey," Arthur began, getting his knees so that he was face level with the depressed Frenchman. "Look at me." Francis raised his head slowly, tears sliding down his face. Arthur was a little taken aback, seeing this beautiful man cry, it made him feel terrible. He could feel his own heart shatter. "Don't give up," he said sternly.

"It's going to be dark soon," Francis said, staring out the window. "The boy's afraid of the dark and he's going to be out there, all alone," he finished, his voice cracking on the last word. "I can't...he can't...I promised..." Alfred stopped walked over to his dad and began tugging on his shirt.

"What is it, Alfred?" his dad asked.

"Why is he sad?" the little boy asked, blue eyes now focused on Francis. Arthur didn't really know how to explain the situation to his son, but as the little boy watched tears fall from the Frenchman's eyes, he didn't need to understand anymore. He slowly walked over to Francis' side and tried to wrap his little arms around him. "Don't cry," he demanded. Alfred's hug was far too much; the Frenchman got up immediately and headed to the front of the building. Arthur watched his son's bottom lip start to quiver. "Did I do something wrong?" The Brit brought his son into a tight hug, not only to console the upset child but to remind himself that he was still there. Arthur wasn't the best father, he didn't expect to be getting an award any day soon, but he loved his son with all of his heart. And seeing someone like Francis lose his whole world just made Arthur want to hold his boy tight and never let go.

"I love you, Alfred." The little boy buried his face in his father's chest.

"I love you too." There was a short pause. "Daddy?"

"Yea?"

"Is Matthew going to be okay?"

"I don't know," he replied earnestly. Alfred buried his head deeper in his father's chest and the Englishman felt his shirt getting moist.

"Hey, don't cry," he said, trying to get his son to look up at him.

"It's my fault."

"What? Why would you say that?"

"I dunno."

"Alfred, look at me," Arthur put his boy down and wiped tears from his son's eyes. "This isn't your fault. Matthew's lucky to have a friend like you. okay?" The child nodded, his lip still trembling. Arthur held on to Alfred's hand and led him to the front room, upon seeing them enter the front, Elizaveta walked up to him.

"Hey Arthur," she said softly. "Do you mind if I take Alfred to playroom? I don't think he should be around all the craziness when the police arrive."

"Um, I think we might be heading home," Arthur admitted, glancing at how tight his son was holding his hand.

"You can't...you can't leave," she said.

"Why not? The police are on their way and you guys will keep looking."

"Francis needs you."

"Me?" Arthur glanced at the Frenchman, who was staring somberly out the window. Why would he need me? The only person who's ever needed me is Alfred and he's growing up so damn fast even that won't last..."He doesn't need me, he needs his son."

"Well, you're all he has right now," she said sternly. Arthur stared at the Hungarian woman, but she stared right back, uninflected.

"He has you and Gilbert," he sighed.

"It's not the same and you know it."

"I'm not sure if-"

"I want to stay." Arthur looked down at his son who was staring up at the two adults.

"What did you say?" asked the Brit.

"I want to stay. I wanna find Matthew. That's what a hero would do. He saves the day. And daddy," Alfred tightened his grip and looked sternly into his dad's eyes. "I'm a hero." Elizaveta smiled at the little boy.

"So I guess it's settled?" she reasoned, looking at Arthur. He nodded.

"I guess so." Soon they saw the flashing lights of the police shine through the window and it brought Arthur back to earlier that afternoon. God, that feels like a whole different life time, he realized. As two cops exited the car and headed towards the building, Elizaveta took Alfred into the back. Arthur walked over to stand by Francis and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. The Frenchman didn't jump, he glanced at Arthur with huge eyes and put his hand over the Brit's. His eyes, there was just something about those eyes, that kept Arthur here. It made him feel like everything was going to alright. They gave him hope. How does he do this to me? I met him today! This shouldn't be allowed to happen. Goddammit Arthur, what's wrong with you? This guy's kid is missing and all you can think about is how you feel? Such a twat. The door swung open and two guys in black police uniforms entered the building. Arthur's eyes grew wide as he recognized the man who had given him a ticket earlier.

"Hey bro, thanks for coming," Gilbert said as he shook the blond German's hand.

"Of course," the cop said seriously. His partner, a tanned, green-eyed man, waved kindly at everyone.

"Buenas noches, I know this isn't a good time, but may I use your bathroom really quickly, por favor?"

"Yea, it's right over-Antonio?" realized Gilbert. Francis perked up at the sound of the name.

"Carriedez?" the Frenchman added. The Spanish cop got a closer to the two men calling his name and his eyes grew wide in surprise.

"Mis amigos! What has it been, four years?"

"Yea, this is so awesome," smiled the albino as he hugged the Spaniard.

"And you Francis," added Antonio, turning to face the Frenchman. "You're looking-" he stopped short. He'd never seen Francis look so sad. "Well?" he added so hesitantly, Arthur thought it was a question. Noticing the man's sadness, Ludwig pulled out his notepad.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" he began. Antonio nodded.

"Si, we should get to work. Right after I use the restroom," he said as he walked to the backroom. Ludwig rolled his eyes, his partner could be so ridiculous sometimes.

"Mon fils a disparu," (My son has disappeared) Francis sighed. Arthur wanted to console him, but the thought kept him frozen. He definitely liked the man but now was not the time or place to act on that, no matter what Elizaveta said. The German looked confused at Francis' words; he clearly didn't understand French.

"Dude, his kid's gone," Gilbert translated sadly. The blonde officer nodded and scribbled some words down in the notepad.

"What's does he look like?" the man asked.

"He's four years old, almost five, with dirty blond hair and blue eyes," the Frenchman described. "He's incredibly shy but extremely caring. Just one of the sweetest boys you'll ever meet." The officer wrote some notes down sternly.

"You'll find him?" Arthur asked.

"We'll try our best," assured Ludwig, looking up from his book.

"Merci," Francis thanked kindly but Arthur could see the worry on his face.

"Hey guys!" yelled the Spaniard from the backroom. "Look who I found? This guy could have gotten lost back there, it's huge," he smiled as he came through the door, holding a sleeping Matthew in his arms. The young boy was grasping a toy bear tightly against his skin as he rested peacefully in the Spaniard's arms.

"Matthew!" Francis practically screamed.

"I should go tell, Liz!" realized Gilbert as he slipped into the backroom. Francis ran over to Antonio and took him from the officer's hands. The way the Frenchman held his child made everyone else feel like he would never let go. The little boy stirred in his arms. He opened his eyes drowsily to look at his father.

"Papa? Je suis fatigue, can we go home?"

"Of course, mon coeur. Whatever you want," his father replied, caressing the small child's hair. This caused Matthew to smile as he tried to settle himself back in his dad's arms.

"I love you, daddy," the young boy mumbled into his new teddy bear.

"Je t'aime aussi," Francis whispered back.

"Alright," nodded Antonio. "So why did you call us? Break-in? Robbery? Grand Theft Auto?" he asked, eyebrows raised at his partner. Ludwig simply shook his head at the oblivious Spaniard.

"Where did you find him?" asked Arthur.

"He was just wandering around when I was on my way back from the bathroom," Antonio shrugged. "Poor guy, I would have missed him too if I hadn't tripped on that bear of his." Elizaveta came rushing to the front room with Gilbert, Alfred asleep in her arms. Arthur took his son and decided that it was time they went home. I'm going to have to make a barrel of coffee to make it through this night, he realized. He waved goodbye to the others, ruffled Matthew's hair in his sleep and smiled at Francis.

"I told you we'd find him," he remarked. He walked out of the daycare and took in the night sky. It was pitch black save for a few street lights and a couple in the parking lot. Luckily his car was near the front so he didn't have to walk too far. He loved his son but the kid was heavy. He strapped Alfred into his car seat and shut the back door before opening the driver's door. He was about to slide into his seat when he heard someone calling him. Francis was jogging out of the building and stopped when he reached Arthur.

"Yea?" the Englishman asked inquisitively. The blonde man simply stared at him for a minute as if searching for the right words to say. In the momentary silence, Arthur couldn't help himself from glimpsing at the Frenchman's eyes again.

Those eyes that had gone through so much today: sadness, grief, anger, disparity, relief, joy.

Those eyes that Arthur couldn't bear to see hold tears.

Those eyes that sent slight chills up Arthur's spine every time they focused in on him.

Francis pulled him in for a hug. Arthur trembled slightly as the Frenchman's strong arms wrapped around him and rested his head on the Brit's shoulders. "Mille merci, mon ami. Thanks for everything," he whispered. Arthur tried to nod but he didn't want to move, after what felt like too soon Francis pulled away. He searched his pockets, pulled out a business card and handed it to Arthur.

"Call me sometime," he smiled. "You know, for that play date?"

"Play date?" the Brit asked, confused.

"For the children?" the Frenchman explained.

"Yea, of course," Arthur agreed. Francis waved as he headed back into the daycare and the Englishman slowly waved back. The Brit felt the business card in his hand for a moment and then put it in his wallet. I'm going to call tomorrow, he decided as he slid into the driver's seat. He closed his door and checked on Alfred one last time, before starting his car and driving off into the night.


A/N: And that's the end of that. Please tell me what you think and thanks to all of you who reviewed, followed and favorited you guys are awesome! :)