Trials and Tribulations
Chapter 7 ~ Reunited
Francis had to laugh otherwise he would have cried. She sat there like royalty, raising her eyebrows at the people scuttling around doting on her every word. Her grin subsided slightly as she caught a glimpse of her only Grandson, he gave her an encouraging nod, it broke her heart to see him be so strong for her, knowing that he only did it because he was worried that if he showed that he was actually upset by the whole ordeal then she might get worked up. A doctor stopped next to her, his expression placidly blank, the professional grin he had trained himself to do in the presence of dying patients plastered all over his face. Her hand twitched, wanting to reach up and smack him harshly in his face, but knowing that it probably wouldn't be the best manners. She personally felt that she didn't need a doctor, that everyone was acting so frantically over nothing, as much as she hated it, she was getting old, illness wasn't uncommon for people of her age. She tried to smile back at him but her lips simply twitched before faltering and turning back down in a scowl, no matter how hard she tried to act like the obedient little patient there was that overwhelming rebellious streak in her that made her feel ridiculous doing so and even more angry at the Doctor whom had obviously done this kind of thing so frequently, it didn't seem to bother him anymore.
"Now Mrs Bonnefoy, we still have yet to determine the problem, at the moment all we can do is recommend you take the medicine prescribed to you and contact us immediately if your state deteriorates." She shook her head and flashed the man a smile,
"Of course Doctor," she had to refrain from rolling her eyes. He nodded before turning on his heel,
"A pleasure to see you again Mrs Bonnefoy, see you next time, okay?"
"Yes, yes Doctor. May I just say that tu es un putain." Francis' eyes bulged and he started to snigger, trying to mask it by pretending to cough heavily. The Doctor stopped and smiled again, saying his thanks and going to leave,
"Oui! Goodbye now, Doctor! Va te faire mettre!" she exclaimed cheerfully. Francis waited until the door was shut and he heard the Doctor's footsteps echo down the hallway before bursting out laughing, holding onto his sides and shaking his head as he did so. His Grandmother was a real cheeky bombshell, always had been and always would be, she smiled at him and patted the space next to her, he came over, still shaking with chuckles as he did and plopped himself beside her.
"I'm not sure calling the Doctor a slut and telling him to fuck his Mother is very polite over in this country," she rolled her eyes and smiled at him cheekily. Her misted-over blue eyes glinting with mischief, she glared playfully at the space the Doctor had previously occupied,
"Didn't you hear him, cher? How patronizing.. He acted as though I was an infant, I wasn't going to sit here and be blatantly undermined," her lips wavered a bit and she began to finger the stitching on her satin sheets, "They all act as if I'm stupid, Francis. You can't understand how aggravating it is when they talk in hushed voices and keep things from you because they're scared you might overhear something you don't want about yourself. I know what's coming and I'm not afraid anymore so I wish they'd just stop scuttling around and keeping things from me."
Francis felt his face turn pale, he gave a shaky half smile and grabbed her claw of a hand, "Now, now. You speak like a dying woman, you'll be fine, you're tougher than they think, right?" Her smile turned sad as she looked into the boy's desperate eyes, he implored her, hoping that she'd laugh along and proclaim that he'd have to take a shotgun to her if he wanted some inheritance, wanted her to scold him for looking so down but the words he wanted never came. She just smiled at him sadly for a moment or two before turning onto her side and quivering under her sheets, her creased eyelids closed shut and she gave out and obviously put on yawn,
"Well I'm very tired now, Francis, go on get out so your bedraggled Grandmother can get to sleep, okay?" He paused, hovering over her slightly before sighing and pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek and exiting the room with a heavy heart. He heard his parents murmur downstairs, scuttling around just as she said they did, a bitter smile evaded his lip and he walked straight down the stairs and through the front door. He needed to be alone and he knew exactly where he could go to get that sweet solidarity that he now craved so much.
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It wasn't that he disliked his Mother's new boyfriend, he just found it tiresome to have to play as though they were an ideal happy family when realistically they were all mutts conceived from all over the country shoved in a small, poky house and made to watch upon as their Mother got screwed over by another guy who was obviously so not ready to be responsible for such a dysfunctional family. He sighed, lighting up a cigarette as he walked and casually flicking ash every so often before taking a long drag of it, his phone had vibrated once or twice from a text from his girlfriend but he chose to ignore it, hoping to be alone. He smiled gently as the concrete pavement turned into grass as he trudged through the field, the sky was an abysmal grey and rain was trickling down lazily so the area looked more run down than fresh but to him it was still that brightly lit field he had spent most of his days at. He smiled and inhaled, breathing in nothing but damp and musty air before plugging in his earphones and taking a leisurely stroll around the perimeter of the area. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground as if he was counting the blades of grass, it was only until he bumped into a tall figure did he stop and looked up, poised to apologise. His eyes widened as they fell on the familiar face of his oldest childhood friend. He straightened himself up and took an earplug out, his heavy brow knitted together in irritation,
"Tell me, are all frogs blind and stupid, or is it just you?" Francis let out a dry chuckle, not bothering to retaliate or even look the other in the eye. Arthur's initial instinct was to be annoyed that the other hadn't paid much attention, but there was a nagging feeling at the back of his head that radiated concern. Francis' regal eyes were downcast, his shoulders slumped and his brow puckered seemingly without him noticing, he had lost all of his proud elegance and it worried Arthur. He licked his lips uncertainly before saying just as sharply as he had addressed him before,
"What's eating you? Is your whore girlfriend refusing to put out or something?" Francis shook his head, his jaw clenched before glaring straight back at his old companion.
"Believe me, Arthur, you have no room to call anyone's girlfriend that when your own goes around wearing skirts that barely reach her thighs," he sighed before racking a hand irritably through his hair, "Can't you just leave me alone?" Usually, Arthur would retaliate angrily, defending his girlfriend and screaming obscenities at the Frenchman, but he still didn't like the other looking so pitiful, standing in the rain and looking out to nothing like the protagonist in a badly written romantic comedy. His brain skidded over options that were sure to strike a reaction so maybe he'd be able to figure out why the other seemed so upset.
"Oh yes just like you left me alone," he said scathingly. It was a feeble attempt, admittedly, but it caused Francis to jerk his head up to glare at the other with contempt,
"That was two years ago, grow up Arthur."
"Whatever frog, what's the matter then? Why do you look so damn sad? Give me a reason to sympathise with you, frog, go ahead and try. What's the matter, you got wine on your favourite designer jumper?" Francis rolled his eyes. Arthur took another puff of his cigarette.
"Smoking's a dirty habit, sourcils," it was almost nice to hear the old nickname again even if it was said in a monotone. Arthur sniggered before dropping it on the floor and snubbing it out with his toe, making a mental note to pick it up later when the other had left and dispose of it properly.
"Better? Now what's wrong?"
"Why would you care?" Francis shot back, his irritation visible on his face, "God. I haven't spoke to you for two years, I get worked up about something and come here for a bit of peace and you just show up out of the blue. Mon dieu, I'm sure someone up there has it out for me."
"This was my place first," Arthur said softly, his voice sounding juvenile, "I'll kick you out of it if you don't tell me, I can because… because it's my place."
Francis almost laughed and walked away but then unwillingly he felt a pang of nostalgia. He had missed the childish banter, he had missed this place, he had missed Arthur. After thinking everything over about ten times, he finally sighed and let impulse take over, confessing to everything that was playing on his mind and letting the other see him weak just as he had two years ago, he already had seen Francis look so melancholy and his persistence hinted that if he didn't tell Arthur then he would just be tormented until he did anyway.
"My Grandmother's gotten ill is all," he glared at the stubbed out cigarette, not wanting to look at the other in the eye, "I was just…concerned, lets say, about her wellbeing. She sounded like she's given up earlier and I got worried."
Arthur paused. He had not met Francis' grandmother but remembered distinctly that the other thought highly of her, he had seen Francis in his weakest moments before but nothing compared to how breakable he looked at the moment, as though he too had resigned to the idea of losing this woman. It's always hard to think of something to say when placed in this situation without sounding pretentious or as though you pity them and that's for the normal person, Arthur, being as socially awkward as he always had been, found himself tripping over words in his head before settling on.
"If she's as stubborn as you then I'm sure she won't be going anywhere for a long time, okay?" he refrained from keeping his tone soft or caring. He had distanced himself; he refused to be concerned about that bastard again. Francis smirked a little before looking back up at the other,
"So then, why are you here? Anything troubling you Sourcils?"
"'Course not, just wanted to visit the place again, Gareth's not finished cooking yet so it'll be a while until I have to go back." Francis sniggered,
"Mother Gareth, Daddy Angus, baby Arthur and Eoghan, right?" Arthur rolled his eyes, the frog had got the family setting down to a 't', he probably remembered Arthur's long rants from all those years ago.
"Except Daddy's off in Dundee at university at the moment so it's just us three now," he smiled gently, pulling another cigarette and lighting it, needing to distract himself from the nostalgia and memories. Francis winced lightly as the flame sparked and the end of the stick lit,
"Well, I best be getting back now, sourcils," he bent down and grabbed the end of the last cigarette and sneered at it before turning on his heel and walking off, "Can't have this littering up the place, can we? Adieu now."
"Oi! Frog!" he wasn't going to do it, he couldn't do it, he had been doing so well at being angry, "If you ever need to talk about it…" Okay he had done it. Francis smiled a little and nodded a fraction before continuing. He had been doing so well and now he was back to square one. He was back in the Frenchman's life.
((A/N: This is so much easier to write~ I'd just like to take a minute to thank you guys for… Liking the story, I guess? I mean, I was checking my stats and I noticed twenty people added this to their alerts list and it made me really happy. Like, really happy u Thank you so much for the support and chapters should hopefully be coming more frequently!))
