A.N.: ASDFGHKL; Thank you Lauren, DeiDei and Kitaklaw for reviewing! Best Christmas present I have received this year. =3= So here's another chapter for Life Lessons. Well, at first I thought of Arthur as the damsel in distress (I like using those words, never fail to crack me up) but when I was typing Chapter 1, I wanted another blonde. Arthur will be some other character in this story. I bet it would be quite obvious in this chapter who he will be.

Disclaimer: Yea, I don't own it. If I did, there will be more Hetalia episodes featuring the Franada household and Netherlands (he seems interesting. Too bad he only appeared for less than a minute :| )

Chapter 2:

Francis groans as he felt a pair of hands shaking him awake furiously. Can't the person see he's tired after saving the blonde's – calling him unknown, almost dead man was too long for Francis – life? The answer came as a no to Francis as the shaking persists. Francis tries to swat the hand away, he needed the sleep. But the person dodged his limp hand easily as he chuckled loudly. The voice seemed foreign to Francis. It definitely belonged to a teen, below seventeen for it wasn't as low as his voice, and sounded, for lack of better words, obnoxious. Francis would've paid any amount to make the laughing stop. It was more annoying than the shaking.

As the laughing and shaking persists, Francis finally decides to stop pretending to be asleep and face the culprit . Francis' eye lids flutter open , as he jerks his head out from his makeshift pillow – which were his forearms – and registered the pain seeping in his back which was caused by his awkward sleeping position. He then takes notice of a waving, tan, hand calling for his attention... or just trying to see if he's awake. The owner of the hand was on the bed, sitting with the help of dozens of pillows arranged like jigsaw puzzles behind his back. They were in different sizes, design and color.

And judging by the bandages wrapped around his body, this was the blonde he just save "Hey dude! Welcome back to earth!" He greeted with enthusiasm much to Francis surprise. Francis expected him to be unable to even wake up for days due to the blood loss and concussion in his brain. Or writhe in pain as he moves about. But the young teen in front of him was anything but in pain. His azure eyes blazing with excitement? Francis was too restless to confirm. "I heard from the old man that you are the reason why I'm still breathing so thanks man. I'll repay you somehow."

Francis could only nod and say "Don't worry about it. I did what I thought was appropriate in that situation."

The blonde chuckles and slaps Francis' back. For a teen who was injured, his hand felt heavy and left his back with a sting. Francis tried not to wince in pain. "Don't be so serious, dude. You remind me of my caretaker who is probably pissed at me for not coming home. I have a feeling he will arrive here with a picnic basket filled with his special food." The blonde chuckled, nervously. He felt his stomach churn at the thought.

"Caretaker? What about your parents?"

The blonde rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly as he says "Well, he's sorta my father but not blood related. He rescued me when I was little so I don't know any details about it." he faces Francis. A sincere smile plastered over his face. "Just like what you did for Mattie, your son."

Mattie...Mathieu? "You met Mathieu?"

"Yea. He came in, looking for you and we freaked out because we looked eerily identical." He paused to laugh "We shouted and stammered everything we said. It was amusing."

Francis wanted to slap himself at that very moment. Why didn't he realize that this guy looked identical to his own son? Cretin.

"Dude, can I ask you some questions?"

Francis nods "Ask away."

"I'll start by introducing myself. The name's Alfred, what's yours?" Alfred smiled. His English caretaker would have praised him for his polite demeanor, if he was here.

Francis answered the simple question with no hint of hesitation "Francis Bonnefoy. Anything else?"

"Oh. Are you French or something? You have some weird accent when you speak." Alfred said, shifting to a more comfortable position. In doing so, a sickening crunch was heard. "Aw man. Don't tell me..." Alfred reached for his back pocket, not bothering to finish his sentence, but it was too far for him to reach.

Francis decided to lend him a hand. He places a hand on the boy's shoulder and offers to help him. "Let me."

"Thanks man" Alfred flashed him a genuine smile as Francis reached in his back pocket only to find pieces of twisted metal and shattered glass. "Damn! I'm injured and blind at the same time. The gods really does hate me." He whined, childishly. He collects the remnants of his glasses from Francis' palm. He whimpered at the thought of what his old man might do to him.

Francis couldn't help but smile at the sight. He was different but at the same time alike with Matthew. But when it comes to maturity, Francis' little boy was clearly more matured than the older blonde. But there was no doubt he would make a great big brother to little Matthew because he spoke the same language as Matthew did when Francis first found him. Maybe they lived in the same part of the city. And somehow found each other through Francis. Who knows the endless possibilities? Oh god, I'm sounding more like Antonio. Francis thought. His Spanish friend liked writing books and articles about new lands he discovered while on board on his ship. He was always cheerful, curious and good with wo-

Francis' train of thoughts were interrupted by Alfred who cleared his throat. When Alfred got his full attention, he starts "Umm, Francis, as much as I like your company, staring at your shirt stained with my blood creeps me out." Alfred pointed one of his tanned fingers at the shirt the older blonde was wearing. "So why don't you change, do some things you need to do and we can talk after wards. It's best for your mind to be empty from every thought before I tell you what happened to me in the forest. Trust me."

Francis looked down at his shirt. It was stained with blood alright and had wrinkles and creases everywhere. Francis decided to take Alfred's advice. He needed to take a long shower to relieve him from cramps anyways. "Alright. I'll be back after an hour."

Alfred gave him a surprised look "That long! What the hell are you planning to do?" he exclaimed.

"Take a shower." Francis answered, simply, giving him a quizzical look afterwards. It was perfectly normal for him to spend more than thirty minutes in the shower. And it was also normal for him to spend hours in the tub if his back was aching. But he had to return this boy to his father. And that was more essential than a relaxing, steaming hot bath.

"What the hell? It only takes about twenty, at the max, to shower!" Alfred exclaimed, pausing as he thrust an accusing finger towards the French man who was standing near the door, the knob clutched in his hand. "Don't tell me you're a gir-"

"That's out of the question!" Francis cuts him off, deeply insulted by his statement. Sure he looked like a girl at the back with shoulder length hair and with his thin build. But he had a stubble. That was enough proof of his gender. But this isn't the first time. Francis sighs. "I'll try to be back here before thirty minutes."

Alfred grinned "That's more like it. Gives me more time to explain before my old man comes barging in your house and blurt everything out."

France gives him a confused look."You, I don't know if you either love or hate your adoptive father."

Alfred thrust his thumb towards him as he proclaimed "Well I'm a hero after all, I'm supposed to be mysterious."

"The right word is confusing." The French man corrected. He turns the door knob until it releases a soft 'click'. "While I'm away, please take it easy. Even if you believe that you're alright, Alfred, your body doesn't agree with you." Frances glances warily at the newly opened wound on Alfred's stomach. Alfred looked down and sure enough the bandages wrapped around the stomach were soaked in his blood.

"I'll ask for Michaels to replace your bandages, just lie down and wait for him." Francis gives the door a soft push and steps out of the room. He closes the door behind him, after hearing the teen in the room mutter some words he couldn't hear. He would ask about that later.

=3=

As he walked towards his room, he bumps into Michaels, already carrying rolls of bandage and a first aid kit in his hands. It seems that Alfred's wounds kept reopening while Francis was asleep. And since the butler was wise – and old – he had a hunch that he reopened one again. Francis commended him for that.

"And Master Francis, another maid tripped and broke another one of your cups today." Michaels informed.

Francis sighs "Again? Well, we can always replace it but they should learn to be careful next time."

Michaels nodded in agreement "I've already warned them sir." The butler glanced at the medical supplies in his arms "Well, I better should get going before he starts bleeding heavily again."

Francis waves him off "Of course. And did Matthieu eat his breakfast?"

"Lunch sir." He corrected him. Amused at how he lost track of time. "And yes he did. He seemed quite glum though. He only had his polar bear to accompany him."

"Oh." Francis muttered, softly. He always accompanied the boy whenever he was here. And times like these didn't happen quite often. With the country's economy remaining aleatory and unstable. "Tell him that I will eat dinner with him, together with Alfred."

Michaels chuckles softly "You always know how to lift Matthew's mood, don't you Jean?"

Francis smiled at the old nickname, feeling a little nostalgic at that moment. "Mère always came up with the craziest nicknames."

"I don't think it's a crazy nickname. She named you after a brave and wise French heroine after all. Your mère wasted a lot of time coming up with the nickname so give her some credit." Michaels explained. He knew that the other was quite familiar with the story how his nickname was made.

"Reminiscing Michaels, that's a new one." Francis teased.

Michaels shakes his head "Childish Jean, you will never change, won't you?"

A.N. And that's it for Chapter 2. I've decided to keep every chapter at least 1,000 words. Writing Alfred is hard. I feel like he's a little OOC also Francis. I didn't put his accented letters (idk what you call it) like when he says the letter 't' it comes out as 'z'. I've seen many fanfics having it but I didn't want to put it (lazy ass =3=). And I enjoyed typing Francis and Michaels conversations, rids away my writer's block. And Michaels is old with wrinkles and everything. And also Alfred's 14 while Matthew is 9 (5 years age gap ) Just for everyone's information :3 And I'm sorry there was no Canada in this. I wanted to focus on Alfie. And also Michaels character development. Next chapter I'll try to write Franada fluff ;D

Please review? :)

Translations (please tell me if it's inaccurate):

Cretin- stupid/idiot

Mère- mother

~enthu-idiot =3=