Chapter 4: Break

The room filed out quickly for a fifteen-minute recess. A few eyes followed Francois, who slipped from the table to go into the restroom. Others went on Oliver who made a break for the outside. The small Brit looked uneasy.

Matt walked out with Kuma and lit a cigarette. He sighed and glanced over to the bench where his brother was sitting.

"How're you holing up," he asked the American.

"Oh, I don't know. Some asshole broke into the hotel and stole our shit."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Allen, you have at least sixty other baseball bats. At least some people's things had value."

Allen snapped, "Are you fucking kidding? What about you, Mr. I'm-too-good-to-tell-what-I-lost?"

Matt frowned. "It's personal."

"Fuck you." Allen stood up and went inside, slamming the door behind him.

Viktor, who was also sitting on the bench, blinked. "He has worst temper than the Italian."

"Yeah," Matt laughed and took a drag of his cigarette. "Try living with… Hey," He leaned forward and called again. "Hey, Oliver."

The Brit jumped and looked up at him. "Yes…?"

"Where are you going," he asked.

"I'm just getting things from the car is all. Is that alright?"

Matt leaned back and nodded. Oliver took his keys and make a break for the parking lot.

"Are you sure you can trust him," Viktor asked, staring after him.

"I know where he lives."

Oliver fumbled with his keys to try and open the door. His hands shook and he couldn't seem to settle down.

He nearly passed out when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

"Calm down," a familiar voice said.

Oliver whipped around and let out a relieved sigh. "Lutz."

The German smiled slightly. "You've always been a terrible liar."

Oliver's face turned red. "W…wot?"

He pressed a hand on the car and loomed over Oliver. "I could tell something was off about your story. I checked the tape… You didn't leave Franny's room until almost three in the morning, and you were stumbling drunk."

Oliver shivered. He then broke down, falling to his knees. He covered his face in embarrassment.

Lutz frowned. "So you did it? You're the robber…."

Oliver snapped back up. "Wot?! Heavens, no! I just came up with a terrible story, is all." The Brit frowned and looked behind Lutz, seeing if anyone was anywhere close.

Lutz tilted his head and blonde locks fell over his forehead lazily. "Then what did happen?"

He mindlessly bit a nail and stood in thought. "Alright. I have to tell someone… just please promise me that you won't ell anyone else? Please?"

Lutz raised a brow. "That depends, you know."

Oliver nodded. "Alright. Fair enough. I know you won't let me go until I tell the truth anyhow…"

Oliver noticed Francois' phone buzz twice on the table and he instinctively looked at the screen.

He frowned. "Love?"

Francois walked into the room carrying his wine and Oliver's tea. "Hm?

"Scotty texted…"

He straightened up and looked at the Frenchman.

"Oh." He set the glasses down and picked his phone up.

"You two still talk a lot?"

"Mmhm," he replied, not really paying attention. "He wants me to call."

Oliver tilted his head. "Are you going to?"

Francois tossed his phone on the table and fell back onto the couch. "Non."

Oliver tentatively sat next to him and blushed when Francois yanked him in closer. "Are you sure? It could be important, right?"

"If it was important he would come here. He's just down the hall and is probably drunk." He flipped the television on and frowned. "It…doesn't bother you that I still keep close contact with him… does it?"

Oliver blinked. "Wot?" He started laughing. "No! Of course not! Why on earth would I get jealous of my brother?"

Francois looked down at him. A thin smile appeared on his face. "You know that I'd stop if you asked me t-"

"Love. You two were married. Big deal," Oliver rested into Francois' arms. "I'd be a child if I got upset over that. I'm not even that bothered by Scotty's ruthless teasing."

Ignoring the movie entirely, Francois bent down and kissed the top of his head. The Brit giggled softly and looked up at him with his puppy dog like eyes.

He leaned down and pressed their lips together. The sounds of the horror film filled the silence in the background and before long, Francois was over top of Oliver, kissing and teasing him.

Loud ringing shattered the intimate moment, making them both freeze. Francois snarled and bit back a curse.

"I'm sorry," he groaned.

Oliver smiled. "Go ahead."

Francois looked at the screen before answering and made an annoyed face. He clicked the phone on and held it to his ear. "I'm busy," he snapped. "What do you w-" He paused, listening. Oliver leaned up to play with his hair and kissed his cheek playfully.

"I'm with your brother, Scot," Francois sighed. "So please just get on with it."

Oliver started to giggle under him, but there was a sudden shift and Francois gently clamped his hand over Oliver's shoulder. "What," he asked, looking sternly forward. He quickly shot up and stood by the table.

Oliver blinked. "Is everything alright?"

Silence followed. Francois had his back to Oliver but he could see the tenseness in his shoulders. His hand went to his mouth and the phone hit the floor.

Oliver jumped up just as Francois fell to his knees. "Francois!" He ran over and put his hands on Francois' trembling shoulders. He retrieved the phone and said, "Hello?"

"Ollie," Scotty said in a sad tone. "I'm really sorry."

"What happened?" Oliver leaned next to Francois with his free hand on his back.

"Do you remember the building in Lyon that was being built?"

Oliver frowned. "Yes."

"An underground area collapsed… If I didn't call, his boss would have. I'm sorry."

That explained all too much. A country's attachment to his or her citizens was stronger than anything, and any sort of tragedy was heartbreaking. "Scot," Oliver said calmly. "Thank you. I'll call if I need you."

There was a pause. "Sure thing. Take care of him…"

Oliver set the phone down and wrapped his arms around Francois.

"I'm sorry," Oliver heard Francois mumble.

"No," Oliver snapped, pulling Francois up to face him. He looked at him sternly and said, "You have every right to be upset. " He pulled him in, hugging him. "You don't have to be alone."

After a long pause, Francois whispered, "Merci…" He straightened up slightly. "I've had this awful feeling all night," he confessed. He scrubbed his face with his sleeves. "I can't deal with this and this fucking meeting."

Oliver ignored the language and said, "Unfortunately you really don't have a choice… You don't have to say too much, though. Chances are that Luciano and Lutz will argue with Allen the entire time…"

He looked down. He wasn't one to like being put on the spot, and being seen like this made him uncomfortable. Oliver sat in thought, petting his hair. He pulled a tissue from the box on the table and handed it to Francois.

"What if I directed the attention from you…?"

Francois raised a brow. "What do you mean?" He took the tissue and blew his nose.

"I'm manipulative enough. No one will notice you if they're too busy wondering what my problem is…"

Francois blinked and looked at him, shocked. "You'd make a fool of yourself to help me…?"

Oliver smiled. "Sure I would." He kissed Francois' forehead. "If being noticed is too much for you, I'd do anything to draw the attention away."

Francois wrapped his arms around Oliver tightly. "You're far too kind to me…"

"I could say the same," Oliver sighed. "Now I may need your wine bottle."

"…Oh boy."

"So let me get this straight," Lutz said, walking with Oliver. "You got wasted so that you would look like Hell today and so that you'd be an irritable ball of anger and confusion because Franny was depressed and couldn't handle the pressure?"

"I suppose you can say it like that…" Oliver shook some pills from the bottle he took from his car. "My head is killing me, though."

Lutz shook his head. "I'm jealous."

Oliver laughed weakly. "Jealous?"

"That I didn't appreciate what I had when I had it." He stopped in front of the building and looked down at Oliver. "I'm glad you're still my friend, though."

The small Brit nodded then sighed. "Mattie is going to check the footage from last night now… So all of my efforts are useless."

"Not if the tape magically went missing," Lutz said smiling deviously.

"You didn't," he gasped.

The German held a tape up. "I believe you, Oliver. Don't make me regret it."

Oliver hugged Lutz. "Thank you."

The door opened and Oliver looked up to see a very tired looking Francois.

He pushed away from Lutz and ran up to him, then hesitated.

Francois looked tiredly at Lutz and then down to Oliver. "They're gathering again. Wang's going to talk, then Viktor." He looked back at Lutz, who walked up and patted his arm.

"Sounds good," Lutz said with a smile.

When he walked back in, Francois looked down at Oliver and raised a brow.

"I had to tell him," Oliver said. "I messed up in my story… "

"I know. Matt is looking for the tape." Francois looked down.

"Well you can thank Lutz later," Oliver said and walked in, smiling.

After a long moment of thought and confusion, Francois turned to the door. "He didn't… did he?"

A/N: I had some trouble writing this chapter… I hate making up tragedies. It's too real and unless it's the apocalypse, I can't go too far with it. I'm sorry that Francois' tragedy seemed mediocre, but it's the best I can offer. I do hope you liked this chapter.

So do you believe Oliver? Or are both of his stories bull?

Heh. Well, take care until next time!