A/N: Thanks a bunch for the reviews guys! It means a lot to me! Again I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters this story is simply fan fiction created from the thought that came to me. Anywho here's the second chapter with France's side of things.

The noise of the cars driving along France's busy streets caused the blond haired man to turn and put a hand over his face at the suns bright rays. He blinked sleepily and sat up causing the covers to drop low and reveal his naked chest and almost reveal his nether regions. France or Francis as he is called by his human name, yawned and stretched out himself tiredly, he had quite a night last night.

He, Canada, America and England, though the latter was dragged by the other three, went to a bar that had just opened called Sexuel for England's birthday. Arthur adamantly refused to go stating that the setting wasn't to his taste, like the prude he was, France snorted. How that changed with the first glass of vodka.

England had a wild side to him when he got drunk, that only his closest friends knew. France mused at how much women the Johnny Pervert made out with last night after only drinking two shots of vodka. He himself made out with a hell of a lot more women, and men mind you, Canada stayed on the sidelines content to having small conversation with a petit brunette who was a lot like him in many ways in France's honest opinion. Matthew was never good at that sort of thing, which was why he was still a virgin up till this day. America was dancing retard idly with a hamburger in his hand causing the rest of the club inhabitants to laugh at him.

A small moan caused France to snap out of his thoughts and look at the two lumps that was in the sheets. He smirked,

Last night he went home with two people, a bisexual couple who were looking for a good time, he gave them what they wished and they hadn't stopped going at it until minutes to four in the morning. The guy was the first to pass out, his girlfriend had a lot of drive but of course she couldn't keep up with him, no nations or humans alike could keep up with him, after all he was France.

He stretched, it was fun but he had to get going, he looked at his cell phone and winced.

He saw 300 missed calls from Monaco, his little sister wouldn't let him have a good time even if it killed her. He rolled his eyes and gathered his clothes, he looked for a piece of paper and pen/pencil to write with. When he found what he had been looking for he scribbled down a brief message

I had fun, let's do it again some other time. Got to go, au revoir~

Once he was satisfied he pulled on the rest of his clothes and left the apartment as quietly as he could. He was still sleepy, he looked at his watch. It was only ten fifteen, why was Monaco trying to call him then? He did tell her he was going to be out all night didn't he- Oh wait.

He thought long and hard,

"Oi England we are going to that new club tonight get ready for 10" France said grinning, his friend wasn't interested though.

"For the last time France I don't-"

"We'll come at five to ten ok bye." France said quickly

"Wait-Damn it F-"He cut of the call and laughed like an idiot.

"Ohonohonohon" he smirked and went to collect his note book of all the names and numbers of the people he banged, he would need it tonight. But first he had to buy a new suit to impress his potential sex buddies. He whistled and picked up the keys of his Audi, before hopping downstairs and skipping out the door but then remembered he hadn't told Monaco who would no doubt throw a fit if he left without saying anything to her.

"Hey Monaco your big brother is going shopping for a while plus I'm going to the club with the guys later so don't wait up for me ok?" he yelled and skipped out the door slamming it as he left.

It hadn't crossed his mind that due to his sister being a movie fanatic, and the fact that the volume was all the way up and coming loudly from her room she hadn't heard him. He now started feeling bad, his sister worried a lot but he usually put it off as her being silly but he knew the reason though.

Like him she hated being alone.

"I probably should call…" he murmured and took out his phone and began punching in her number. He put the phone to his ear and waited while it rang out.

"Allô?" came her voice from the other end, France gulped nervously, she sounded like she was in a sour mood today.

"Allô Beatrice." He said nervously, the line went silent. Uh oh, he braced himself, here it comes!

"YOU BASTARD, OÙ L'ENFER ÉTAIENT VOUS? DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I'V BEEN CALLING YOU? HEIN? !ANSWER ME DAMN IT!" she screamed into the phone, he winced.

"Mon ange, let me explain-"

"Who said you could talk? I'm still speaking so shut it!" she hissed, instantly shutting her older brother up. He sighed and allowed his sister to continue her angry tirade.

After fifteen minutes and a busted ear drum later she calmed down. Francis winced and sucked it up, no point in crying over it anymore.

"Are you quite done Beatrice?" he asked calmly hoping the storm passed. It had and she breathed softly

"Yes, so where were you? Why didn't you call me? I was so worried." His sister murmured, and he immediately felt bad. His sister didn't have that many friends and was a severe worry wart especially about him and the affairs of the world.

"I'm sorry my dear I… was preoccupied, but this big brother is coming home soon ok?" he said gently, Monaco huffed and said ok before hanging up. He ran a hand through his blond locks sighing; he unlocked his vehicle and drove away.

As he turned on the radio, he tapped his hand on the steering wheel as he sang along to the new song that just came out 'Call Me Maybe' by Carly Rae Jepsen. It was so catchy and yet kinda sad, he laughed when he saw the end of the video that was unexpected indeed.

"Ok~ That was Call me Maybe, no we will be taking tributes! Call now and give your tribute." The radio host said cheerfully. France hoped a hot sounding babe would have called, didn't matter if it was a girl or not.

"Oh here's our first caller! Hi and what is your name?" he asked charismatically, it was a woman caller.

"H-hi my name's Anne." She said shyly, France smirked

"Hi Anne~" he said grinning, she sounded like the innocent type he liked.

"Hi Anne, and what song would you like to do for us?" the host asked kindly, the woman paused for a minute before answering

"A poem by Saint Thérèse of Lisieux." She said firmly, Francis figured that it would be boring so he decided to let his eyes roam around at the beautiful people on the streets.

"Alright you may begin!" the girl took a deep breath

"When the Lord God of hosts gave you the victory,

You drove out the foreigner and had the king crowned.

Joan, your name became renowned in history.

Our greatest conquerors paled before you

France immediately looked at the radio in shock that got his full attention and he drove while taking quick glances at the radio.

But that was only a fleeting glory.

Your name needed a Saint's halo.

So the Beloved offered you His bitter cup,

And, like Him, you were spurned by men.

At the bottom of a black dungeon, laden with heavy chains,

The cruel foreigner filled you with grief.

Not one of your friends took part in your pain.

Not one came forward to wipe your tears.

France almost stopped the breaks suddenly at the third stanza, his grip on the steering wheel became extremely tight. Memories of his cowardice flooded him like the plague, King Charles had forbidden him from saving Jeanne, a decision he regretted to this day. He listened on.

Joan, in your dark prison you seem to me

More radiant, more beautiful than at your King's coronation.

This heavenly reflection of eternal glory,

Who then brought it upon you? It was betrayal.

Ah! If the God of love in this valley of tears

Had not come to seek betrayal and death,

Suffering would hold no attraction for us.

Now we love it; it is our treasure.

"I am done." The lady over the phone said, the radio host paused for a while,

"That was… beautiful thank you Miss, everyone let's remember the 30th of this month is the death anniversary of Jeanne D'arc, our beautiful French heroine, Vive la Jeanne!" the host declared. After the caller hung up there were an outpour of tributes being played to Jeanne for the next few hours though France didn't hear anymore.

A young brunette was pacing up and down the hall way of the large house in annoyance, she flipped her long braided hair over her shoulder as she tapped her foot impatiently while every few minutes looking outside of her home. Monaco was feeling frantic of her older brother's late appearance, it had been over two hours since she last spoke to him was beginning to feel sick from worry.

'Where are you mon frère? Francis!' she thought wringing her hands looking at the road yet again hoping to see his familiar black car.

"Miss Beatrice is Master Francis coming for lunch? It's already after 1." Their chef asked untying the apron from his waist, Monaco sighed and shrugged

"Honestly Auguste I do not know, please ask Louise to serve some tea for me I am not feeling so good." She murmured turning around and walking to her room, as she almost reached her bedroom she heard a car driving into the property. Monaco sighed in relief and hurried downstairs just in time to see Francis entering the door of the home.

"Francis! Thank God! I was so worried-"she cut off short as he turned to look at her, had he been crying? His eyes were red and puffy and she identified that they were still glistening from tears. She felt another wave of concern wash over her for her sibling.

"Francis what happened?" she asked tenderly brushing the tear that fell from his cheek, he flinched and turned his head to the side.

"I… sorry but I won't be eating with you I don't have much of an appetite Beatrice Je suis désolé." He whispered hoarsely and walked past the stunned woman with eyes downward cast.

"Francis what on earth happened to you?" she murmured watching the retreating form of her older brother and the dark cloud that hung over his head.

"Excuse-moi mademoiselle are you ready for your tea?" Louise asked holding a silver tray in her hand filled with tea and an assortment of pastries. Monaco sighed and nodded following the maid after looking at the empty spot her brother had been in just a moment ago.

"Can you please call and invite Michelle over for dinner Louise? I have something I'd like to ask her." Monaco asked walking next to her maid and figured perhaps Seychelles would know what was wrong with France. After all he always talked to his adopted daughter whenever she asked him anything.

Well almost anything.

A/N: Well that's it for the second chapter hope you enjoyed, the poem was written by Saint Thérèse of Lisieux entitled 'To Joan of Arc' and also if my French parts aren't accurate I apologize, I used a online translator due to my extremely rusty French.
I'll have the third chapter up the upcoming week.