Hello my dears! You must all hate me so much right now. I'm so sorry, I'm a terrible person, I know! Inspiration struck today however and I knew I had to get this done for all of you lovely's that still have it in you to love me.

I'll give you some warning ahead of time about the poorly rendered french in here. I took the equivalent to one semester of french. Most of this just came out of an online translator. Here's the ones you should probably know:

mon/votre frѐre - my/your brother

Qui est votre problème? - what's wrong? (more literally, "what's your problem?")

mon ami - My love

Mon Cher- My dear

Il est saint Valentin- It's valentine's day

and for reference, most of the stuff that suggests a french accent you can mentally replace the majority of the random z's with th's and you'll be fine.

Hope you enjoy, sorry it's taken so long, and the end will be up as soon as I have a spare moment to drag the whole family image back together.

Lovies

-Mina

"What do you mean people won't change?" Alfred asked, mouth gaping. He'd heard Arthur being dismal and dreary before, but not like that.

"I mean what I said. People won't change. You say it all the time, you say that things should be better in a day or two, that the hero will fix things, but let's be honest Alfred, you haven't done any good for me since you smiled the first time." Arthur remarked, his tone matter of fact. He almost seemed bored with their conversation at that point, as if the American had no valid point to argue against him.

Alfred, however, was not so convinced. It stung a bit to hear a man he'd nearly thought to be his father say he had only ever caused trouble, but thinking back on it, he knew that wasn't true. After all, he'd been the one that had saved Arthur just a few valentines ago when they'd been at war; he'd been the great defendant. Alfred had too bright of hopes to even begin taking Arthur's words to heart. Instead, he focused on formulating a better argument, because, well, what hero couldn't win a little fight like that?

"Yeah but… Iggy, we're not people, we're countries, and countries change all the time. I mean, just last year my boss was replaced, and I get a new president every four years." Alfred seemed pleased with himself at that. "See? We change constantly. Who's to say Francis and Mattie won't come running back to you?"

"Time and experience. That's what says they won't come back. How long are you going to pester me about this?" Arthur groaned and turned away from the American. He seemed flustered, angry, but more so in a way that said he didn't want to admit that a bloody American could ever be right.

"Maybe time will also prove you wrong." Alfred responded before shoving his hands in his pocket and following the Brit from a few feet back. He watched the shoulders droop, the feet drag, and the unenthusiastic way Arthur pulled himself forward as if he were being tugged along by a heavy chain like a death march. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

The remainder of their trip to the park was an absolute waste of time. Alfred had fallen incredibly silent at the English man's lack of hope. He'd tried for something that might cheer up the pouting Brit but there seemed to be nothing that would make it any easier. Arthur just wasn't the kind to look at things as bright as rainbows all the time. It was a bit of a pity really, especially since they were all well aware of Arthurs fantasy world filled with rainbows. Perhaps that was just why he didn't believe, because that part was just a fantasy.

Still! There had to be something that would cheer up his pouting little English man! Even if it was just a flower or a card or something as big as buying Seychelles back, it didn't matter! He couldn't stand to see his big brother so upset all the time. Despite all Alfred tried to deny about their relationship, he cared about his homeland, maybe even loved him if he got past the deep set resentment for history. He had to do something, anything, to end the dreariness of Arthur's mood. They'd meet up with Mattie and Francis in half an hour, but there apparently wasn't anything that would make the next half an hour easy on him. He could treat Arthur to lunch, but looking at Arthur as he was then, that sounded like a dismal idea; the Brit would probably throw his food at the nearest waitress if they tried that. Things were not looking very good.

"Alfred!" the American spun on his heels to see who would be calling his name. His eyes found the figure of a flamboyant Frenchman running toward him, followed closely by the nearly translucent figure of Mattie holding his polar bear.

"You guys are early. I thought you weren't going to be here till three?"

"We weren't… but zen mon frѐre got ze text and we ran to see mon cher." Francis explained, trying to suck in long breaths so that he could look a bit more composed. "Où est mon cher?"

Alfred looked to Mattie, hoping for a little translation help. Sure, he was a mix of all sorts of things, but Francis spoke so fast he might as well have been talking in a code Alfred had yet to decipher.

"He said "where is Arthur?"" the Canadian muttered, holding Kumajiro up to hide his lips so that Alfred would see him gasping for air. Carrying a bear as big as Kumo must have been tough on him and Alfred looked to him sympathetically for a short moment at the thought. The difficulty, however, was he couldn't focus on Matthew, not even on Valentine's Day when they had a date planned and everything! No, he had to put the brunt of his focus on pouting Arthur who might have committed suicide already if they weren't paying attention.

Speaking of which… where was he? He'd been lazily walking over to the park swing last he'd been seen, and now he was nowhere in sight. He wasn't playing emo on the swing, or crying in the U bend at the top of the slide, or even leaning against one of the big trees with his knees pulled in. He'd just disappeared completely.

"I… I don't know where he went." Alfred muttered, though it was evident to the other two countries without words, he was spinning around with a concerned look on his face; it was kind of hard to miss.

"Zen we shall find him. Mon cher cannot be far." Alfred nodded, watching as Francis ran ahead to find the grouchy Brit, leaving the other two to stand back in his dust. The younger two looked to one another before wordlessly nodding in agreement and heading in the other direction. Francis could find Arthur by himself, he was far more accustomed to it than the younger brothers, and besides that, they had other things related to Arthur that needed to be taken care of.

Hurrying down the path, Francis stumbled upon a side way that was unpaved and was word down from other people passing by. On a whim, the Frenchman bet on his sweet amour being down that way, where he could expect it to be dark and secluded; just what Arthur would be looking for at a moment like that. He turned down the dirt road and hurried along in that direction.

To the Frenchman's surprise, there were a lot more people back there than he'd been expecting. Most of them were hiding back in the woods, plenty of couples with their backs to the trees having good old make-out sessions. Then there was that couple up on the hill that apparently couldn't keep their clothes on, and in a public place no doubt! Needless to say, Francis gave them a thumb up as he walked by. Arthur would hit him if he knew, but he had to encourage young love! That was his thing!

And then he found the subject of his searching, the hunched frame ahead that was sitting in a clearing near the river bank, away from the rigorous commotion of the love-makers in the bushes. The Frenchman seemed to smile a bit before hurrying over to his sweet Angleterre. He sat down beside the Brit, draping an arm over the man's shoulders.

"Mon ami? Qui est votre problème?"

"Get lost frog. I wasn't look for your sympathy." Arthur muttered, scooting out of arms reach of his company. He may not have been looking for sympathy, but he probably needed it.

"But mon cher, Il est saint Valentin. Oh… you don't have ze valentine. Désolé…" Francis remarked solemnly, watching Arthur as his expression continued to sink. "You know mon cher… I don't have ze valentine eizer."

Arthur looked up to him at that comment, a little surprised to hear Francis say something like that. Admittedly, part of him suspected Francis was single on Valentine's Day, but he was expecting it to be more by choice than by unfortunate turn of event like Arthur. The way the Frenchman had said it, however, made it seem like he preferred being alone. But then, what did it matter to Arthur? Why bother telling him if the git wanted to be single?

"Good for you." Arthur grumbled, folding his arms over his knees. He watched as a couple in their little peddle boat went on by, hands held in the center cockpit. They looked so happy it made him angry and sick all over again.

"Mon cher… I chose zis for you." Francis stated, moving his hand to the Brit's. Arthur didn't notice at first, at least not until he felt the warmth of his hand being held and the soft touch of the Frenchman's skin.

"Uggh… I may be lonely, but I'm not that lonely." Arthur responded quickly, pulling his hand free and jumping to his feet. He rubbed his hand on his pant leg then spun away from the Parisian, heading back into the woods with Francis scrambling to catch up.

"Zen you should not pout, Angleterre. You do not take love zat is given to you, zen you should not be loved, no? And yet mon frѐre et votre frѐre are trying so hard to make you happy. Does Angleterre not want amour?" He had absolutely no intention of giving up; that was rather evident.

"I never said that, I just said not you, git." Arthur picked up his pace a little more at that, both trying to escape his pursuing Frenchman, and to get past the shirtless couple in the grass.

"But Angleterre, I thought you said you loved me once? And in Français no less!" Francis continued, speeding up so he'd stay only a few feet behind his friend. England was convinced he'd escape if he walked faster, but France was convinced he could keep up as fast as Arthur went.

"I was drunk, really, really drunk. You've said stupid things when you were smashed too you know." Arthur muttered.

"But I do not tell a lie, even when I am drunk. Angleterre, zere must have been some truth in zere. Have you no feelings at all?" Francis asked. His voice was gentle, still not frustrated though he'd been chasing after Arthur and confessing his love for much too long already. It must have hurt to be scathed by such awful comments, and yet he seemed so unfazed. The smug grin on his face suggested he thought differently than the Brit about their situation. He grabbed the boys arm and pulled Arthur to a stop. "I did not lie, Angleterre. If it were a lie, I would not have bothzered coming all ze way to your country for you."

Arthur groaned and tried to pull away, but just before he could move, there was the warm sensation of something against his lips, and that flurry of blonde hair that ran through his vision before he saw those piercing blue eyes before him come closed. He scrambled for a second, but fell quiet after a moment and let Francis finish.

As the Frenchman pulled back, their eyes met and he looked up his Englishman apologetically. "Désolé, mon ami, but you looked so angry."

"Get your hands off me, frog." Arthur hissed, though his tone seemed to have subsided, and he didn't pull nearly as hard as he had before. Some part of him had settled down with that, so much that he didn't bother to pull his hand away in the end.

"Oh, mon cher! You do like it!" Francis exclaimed cheerfully, looking to their hands still interlocked as Arthur continued up the wooded path back to the main road through the park.

"Will you shut up?" Arthur replied, though one glance back at Francis said he wouldn't. Knotting his eyebrow together in regret for what he was about to do, he turned back to the Frenchman and planted a solid, quick kiss on his lips.

Francis kept his mouth wide open the rest of the trip, his eyes wide and star filled until they reached the bridge, but to Arthur's relief, he never said a word the rest of the way back. Flabbergasted or whatever it was, the Englishman was finally glad he'd done something ludicrous, because for once it had an upside. Even if he was certain there'd be repercussions in the near future. He could feel it.