A/N- I'm finally back~! Oh my gosh, I miss writing so much. I don't even know how I managed to fit this chapter in! School has literally been eating up al of my time. I don't have time to do anything anymore. I'm stressed, and I'm tried, but you know, I guess writing does really help with everything. I just miss how I had free time before...Eh, what can you do? Anyway, I'm back, and I'm sure you all were anxious to fin out what happened to Arthur and Francis. Well...I can tell you right now, some (or maybe most) of you aren't going to like it :P But it's what I was planning on doing, so I carried it out. I guess you all finally get that angst you all have been waiting for :3

Disclaimer- I DO NOT own Hetalia.

Enjoy, lovelies~!

Chapter 10

"What's wrong, Francis?" Arthur asked, noticing the Frenchman's unusual quietness. With a finger tracing the rim of his glass, Francis did seem to give off a rather gloomy vibe.

"Hm? Oh, don't mind me Arthur. I just had a long day." Francis replied, his gaze directed at the Canadian at the other end of the bar. Gesticulating wildly and shouting at the flat screen T.V, Matthew was absorbed in a hockey game. Surrounded by fellow fans of the sport, the borderline muted Canadian certainly found his voice.

"Oh. Are you sure? You seem like you're thinking about something. Is something bothering you?" Arthur asked, still worried about his friend's condition.

With his gaze still glued to his partner, Francis slowly put down his glass and exhaled. "It's a long story. I don't want to burden you with my silly little problems."

"I don't mind. If something's wrong, you can always tell me." A soft chuckle was audible from the Frenchman.

"Such a gentleman, Arthur. Makes me feel a bit worse about hurting you to be honest…"

"Oh, stop it. The whole point of this was an apology wasn't it? Now, I might not be quite ready to forgive and forget just yet, but that doesn't mean I hate you or anything."

"Well of course not. I didn't expect you to necessarily hate me…"

"Right. So what's the matter then?"

A slight pause was inserted between the question and the response. A reoccurring sigh was heard before the answer.

"It's just…I feel as though me and Matthew are hitting a small bump in our relationship…" A raised eyebrow from the Briton showed the man's confusion. "What do you mean? You two are a great couple."

"That's what I thought. But it seems as though there's a rift between us. We were extremely close before, don't get me wrong. It was true love. But now…Now I feel as though we're not a true couple anymore."

Taking a small sip to stall, Arthur contemplated on the issue.

Well that's odd…Then again, Matthew has been acting a bit strange lately, he thought, his eyes shifting towards the Canadian.

The game on the television was wrapping up, and the fans clearly were upset and close to throwing a fit. A few of the bartenders were watching the cluster carefully, their senses alert for any signs of a bar fight.

Putting his glass down, Arthur finally decided to reply. "What do you mean by 'not a true couple' exactly?"

"I feel as though it's not about true romance anymore. That might just be me, but I feel like it's a…Ah, what was it? A friends with benefits relationship? It's quite complicated actually…"

"A friends with benefits? That seems really out of character for someone like Matthew." A slight grin appeared on Francis' lips. "You would think that, but that boy is something special. But that doesn't really explain why our relationship's been getting a big distant. Maybe it's the work? Maybe it's just a small phase? Or maybe…Maybe the spark has died out."

"Now don't say that. You two are perfect for each other." As the cliche phrase slipped out of his mouth, Arthur knew he had gotten himself into some sort of trouble. Right on cue, the Frenchman glanced up, his blue eyes shining a bit.

"Optimistic for once, Arthur? Seems like your little 'hero' did manage to loosen you up." he grinned, a playful note in his voice. "Oh hush. I-It's not like that."

"Isn't it? To be honest, I'm quite glad you two are back together. It seems as though you're quite happy with him."

Strangely, a cold note was picked up. Whether it was a figment of his imagination or not, Arthur couldn't decided. Glancing up, Arthur only managed to see Francis stare off into the distance dreamily at Matthew who was gathering his things and breaking away from the crowd. His flushed cheeks signified that the game was a heated one.

"Another lost? Or did they finally break their streak?" Francis asked casually,, making direct eye contact with Matthew.

"Lost. I swear, I had a feeling they were going to win this time." he huffed, putting on his jacket. "Well there's always next game." Arthur attempted to comfort, a sheepish smile on his face.

"I guess. Well, I better get going." Matthew sighed. "Already?" Francis asked, a slight disappointment on his features. "Yeah. I have to get up early tomorrow for work. That, and I need to stop by the office to finish up some last minute paper work. It was nice of you for inviting me though. I'll see you back home." A quick peck on the cheek acted as a dismissal between the partners, and after a small awkward wave to dismiss the Englishman, Matthew was off.

As the night continued on, the crowd dispersed, and the drinks began to slow. The first yawn from the Briton was a signal to the two friends that it was about time to wrap the night up and leave. After the tab was paid, the two made their way out into the brisk night.

Searching for Francis' car, Arthur didn't notice his companion's strange behavior from behind. A tensed aura took over the Frenchman, his body stiff and showing signs of restraint.

"Do you see your car anywhere, Francis?" Arthur asked, his eyes still scanning the parking lot. The Briton's voice seemed to have loosen up the tension that was forming around Francis.

"Ah, I believe it's over here somewhere." Francis managed to reply nonchalantly, his voice struggling to stay at a normal level.

"I don't- Oh! I see it now. Silly me…" The two continued off until they reached the vehicle. The jingling of keys and the beep of the car as it unlocked resonated in the still night.

"It's really humid out here don't you think?" Arthur asked, looking up at the pitch black sky. A wave of clouds obscured the shining moon, adding an eerie feeling to the surroundings.

"I think there's suppose to be rain in the forecast today." Francis noted.

"Well then, we better get home before it starts pouring then." Arthur added lightheartedly. With the doors unlocked, Francis took the lead and opened the passenger side of the door before Arthur could reach out for the handle. "Oh. Well thank you."

Taking a seat inside, the Briton managed to get comfortable. When he was about to put on his seatbelt, he sensed something odd. The breeze from outside could still be sensed on his skin. Looking up, Arthur noticed that the door to his side wasn't closed yet. With Francis still standing by the door holding it open, Arthur frowned and looked up with great concern.

"Is everything alright, Francis? You're acting a bit…Strange."

Hand still gripping the side of the door, the tension returned to the companion. A response was never expressed out of him. Blue eyes set on the Arthur's green ones, the Frenchman was displaying a very unusual side of him. Confused by what was happening, the Briton's guard was let down, and before he could ask again about his friend's current state, a chain of actions overwhelmed him.

The door closed in one swift movement. A warmth and slight weight was felt around the Briton's lower half. A hand reached for the lever behind the seat, and with one pull, Arthur's chair leaned back, allowing the man on top to have perfect control.

"F-Francis! What are you-?"

A press against the lips silenced the submissive one, and a slight nip at his bottom lip only enhanced the fact that he was being controlled at the time. The jacket was unzipped, and the cold air from inside the car nipped the skin underneath Arthur's thin shirt. A hand slipping underneath the Briton's shirt gave him goosebumps as the warmth contrasted sharply with the chilled skin. Wriggling from the sensation, Arthur tried to pull himself away from the source, a difficult thing to do especially in this position.

The familiar kiss from so long ago only brought back memories from his old relationship with Francis. The feeling that felt so satisfying before turned into a feeling that stung and burned. A sinking feeling in the Briton confirmed that the entire situation was more than he could handle.

As the hand traced Arthur's side, every little curve on his abdomen, the Briton felt a shiver run up his spine, a feeling that he dreaded, a feeling he knew was wrong but couldn't help. Protest was choked in his throat, but with a French kisser currently dominant, it seemed impossible for them to be heard. Finally, after one last forced motion, the Frenchman broke apart to breath, Arthur's only brief chance to speak out.

Panting, he spat out his question. "W-What are you doing?" he asked. What he thought would come out strong and firm fumbled and came out shaky. When he picked up the slightly wavering tone, the leading male couldn't help but smirk.

"I'm a complex person. You should know that, Arthur. I have feelings for quite a few people. Sure, I have Matthew, and I simply adore him to pieces, but as you know, our relationship is crumbling. How long will iit last? That's hard to determine. But with this lack of affection between us, I don't believe it'll last long. So I'm doing the same thing you did. Rebounding. That's what I was for you wasn't I? A rebound?"

It was a truth that he couldn't deny. Taken aback, Arthur hesitated to reply. When he managed to get his voice back, stuttering words only came out.

"B-But that doesn't- Ah!" A slight pressure was pressed onto the Briton's crotch, a feeling that brought pain and guilty pleasure to the situation. Biting him bottom lip sharply to avoid any misleading sounds, Arthur was silenced by a single movement.

"But nothing, Arthur. I've seen how you act around that American. You can't imagine how I feel when I think back to our old relationship compared to how things are now. You can't imagine how much I miss how we were before that accident. Even with Matthew, that sweet boy, around, I can't help but feel guilty, no matter what. Imagine how things would have been if it never happened? We still would have been together."

"But it did happened and we're not!" shouted the Briton, struggling underneath the Frenchman's pinning arms.

The statement made Francis pause, but it certainly didn't discourage his intentions. "You're right. But that doesn't mean I've forgotten about the past."

The knee at his crotch increased the force and a heated feeling was starting to form around Arthur's lower region. Nails scratching gently down his side sent another wave of goosebumps on his skin. A gentle brush agains his neck increased his heart rate, and a staggered breathing was a result as he was trying to keep his hormones in check.

Each little touch gave him a feeling. The dominant one remembered everything from the past: every little spot on the Briton that made him whimper, every little touch that made him moan. A feeling of desperation enveloped the Arthur as he desperately tried to turn his body away, trying to avoid the risk.

Pleasure was starting to build, and the Briton struggled to control it. He felt a hand trail down from his side to his belt.

"F-Francis…" he pleaded, sensing the direction this was going. The response was a pull at his belt, the leather strap loosening. Panic rushed into the veins of the Briton.

No…No. I won't let you. You're not who I want…You're not who I want!

SMACK!

The sound of flesh against flesh rang out into the silent night. The hurried rustling of fabric quickly followed. The car door was kicked open with a forceful shove, and a pair of feet clumsily thumped onto the pavement in an unsteady, desperate landing.

Freed from the vehicle, Arthur managed to finally break away from the source. His hand stung from the impact, and his pants formed little clouds in the chilly air. His senses perked from the brisk air, and the contrast from the heat in the car to the cool air of nature made his cheeks burned. A downpour soaked through his clothes.

Balancing himself out, the Briton recollected himself, and a brief moment of confusion clouded his mind. His eyes moved from the ground upwards, and they immediately made contact with him. A stinging red cheek on Francis' fair skin could be seen even in the darkness.

Desperation overtook Arthur's senses yet again, and without saying another word, he took off.

…

Footsteps splashed blindly on the watered-down sidewalk. Completely ignorant of his injury that he was burdened with, he kept running. Running to where wasn't important at the time.

Emotions drained completely out of him. Warm tears that flowed down his cold cheeks mixed with the rain that contributed to the blinding of his sight. Indignation, hurt, and fear was all he could feel.

After running into a nearby neighborhood, the Briton finally decided to let his feet stop. Breathless, he took his jacket and angrily wiped away the tears, attempting to gain back his composure. After his vision cleared, the fragile Briton looked around his surroundings. A yellow bus stop caught his attention through the curtain of rain. The unfamiliar landscape around him told him that he was far from being home. An engine suddenly echoed in the night. Looking up, Arthur saw a city bus pull up right in front of him.

The door swung open, and a friendly face greeted him. "Are you riding?" the driver asked politely. Mind jumbled, the question didn't make any sense. Suddenly, after regaining his mind, he nodded. Hobbling up the steps cautiously, Arthur peered inside the bus. It was empty except for a few straggling passengers in the back.

"I'm on my last stop, so you're pretty luck to have caught a bus at this hours. What were you doing in the rain anyway? You'll catch a cold if you keep this up. " the driver said, extending his hand out for money.

Ignoring the comment, Arthur dug around in his pocket and pulled out an uncounted amount and handed it over. "You can keep the change." he told the driver, and with that, Arthur took a seat by himself.

…

I'm finally home…

The atmosphere in his small apartment seemed distant. Everything seemed changed after his outing…

Closing the door behind him, Arthur sighed and walked t his room. With every step he took, his joints seemed to creak, and his clothes seemed to squish. He was finally aware of the shooting pain that he had caused himself. Pushing himself until he was safely in his room, the Briton stripped off his wet clothes, indifferent at the fact that his home was about ten degrees too cold to be walking around in bare and damp flesh.

As he took off his shirt, vivid memories of earlier that night crossed his mind. Shaking his head as if that would make the thought disappear, Arthur tossed his clothes into the hamper and made a beeline to the bathroom. Flicking the dim lights on, he took off his pants and entered the shower. Turning on the cold water to full blast, the Briton stepped in. The frigid water rolled down his skin, and with vicious scrubbing motions, Arthur attempted to cleanse himself from the sinful, dirty feeling that Francis left him with. Anger began to flare again, and he could feel another wave of tears come. Feeling as though even scrubbing himself raw wouldn't do any good, he finally gave up and leaned against the tiled wall of the shower.

Pain from his hip mixed in with the intensity of the night drained him completely. Running a stressed hand through his hair, Arthur tried to think of a solution. What did he need at the moment? What was the solution to everything in the past? What was…

Of course…

The water was turned off, and wet feet walked from the tiled bathroom floor to the carpeted on in the apartment. WIth water still dripping off his limbs, Arthur made his way to his desolate closet. His eyes saw a ripped pair of jeans, and without even bothering to dry himself off, Arthur slapped them on right after putting on a pair of boxers underneath. A dirty t-shirt from his hamper clothed his upper half, and after scrambling to make himself publicly acceptable when it came to being clothed, he was out again.

The rain had dwindled to mere sprinkles, and this allowed the doctor to completely his mission much faster. The burning pain that was being exerted from his side only encouraged him to act faster. His nerves were shaking, and it seemed as though the world was testing him.

The journey to the hospital was one that certainly tested his endurance of pain. He couldn't help but be silently thankful that he only lived five minute away from the building. Upon entering his section of the workplace, the usual hustle and bustle during the day had diminished to a serene environment. The harsh fluorescent lights that he despised during the day were dimmed down, and the halls from that point on were dark.

With mental patients on either side of the hall, Arthur knew he must be as silent as possible. The staff were all in the lounge at this time, only coming out when called by a late night patient or emergency. With the halls cleared of any staff, his mission was becoming extremely easier. Slipping past the sleeping patients, Arthur walked down to the end of the hall. Stopping at the elevator, the doctor sensed that his nerves were becoming restless when he stopped, a feeling that only seemed the make matters worse.

Opposed to the idea of standing still in an elevator with that feeling, the doctor decided to take the stairs. As each floor past by him, the anticipation was growing. His problems were about to be solved…

Finally reaching the correct floor, Arthur flung open the door. The pharmaceutical section of the hospital greeted him immediately. The lack of staff on this floor made the doctor conclude that it was past hours.

Doesn't matter…I have a key. he thought to himself.

A metal gate separated him from his pleasurable relief. Pulling out his ring of keys, the doctor fumbled with them until he found the right one. His nerves were giving out, and his hands started to shake. Miraculously, his hand was able to steady itself long enough for him to unlock the gate. With a twist of the wrist, the gate was unlocked and was soon ripped open, a cacophonous sound ringing in the silent hospital.

His memory of where the pharmacist kept his precious medicine was extremely clear, and without hesitation, Arthur ran to the section. Desperately looking for the familiar bottle, he spilled medicine bottles after medicine bottles without any regard to their importance. Finally, what he was looking for was in sight.

WIth shaky hands, grabbed his precious Vicodin. With his unstable nerves preventing him from opening the prescription bottle, a slight irritation made him curse under his breath. A satisfying pop of the cap from the prescription bottle was pure music the the doctor. The pills spilled out into the palm on the doctor's hand.

The sweetness of these pills going down his throat was just too good of a feeling for him to wait any longer. As his muscles readied themselves for the familiar "popping of the pills" motion, a hand clasped over his, preventing any further movement.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" a voice hissed. Shocked by his visitor, Arthur froze. Baby blue eyes, worry and concern in them, stared into his hungry greens ones. The comforting warmth from his rightful lover drained the craving right out of him.

"I-I…Alfred I…" The joy of having the American close to him was a feeling that was better than the Vicodin could give. It was a real feeling.

Biting his bottom lip, looked down shamefully. "Arthur, what happened? You look like a mess." Alfred noted, examining his partner closely.

"I…I…" His voice wavered, but even with a shaky voice, he didn't have an answer. He didn't want to answer. The events of the night took a toll on him, and all he wanted was peace. Emotions ambushed him at once, and more tears started to form in his eyes, a painfully choking feeling in his throughout following behind them

"Alfred…I'm sorry." the doctor choked out.

A pair of arms wrapped around the whimpering doctor. A warmth was felt on his chilled skin. The scent of the American seemed to have a comforting feeling on the Briton.

Not another word was exchanged between the two. The sniffles from the Briton and the hushed comfort from the American was the only thing that was happening between them.

Looking down at the fragile Englishman, hurt was fixed on the American's features.

I don't know what happened to you, Arthur, but I'm going to find out.

A/N-Ta Da~! I know, I'm mean to my characters. But I do have my limits too, so you all were pretty lucky that Arthur got out okay. Pretty angsty hm? Well, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, because it's going to be a while before my next one comes out. Review and message me whenever you please ^-^ Thanks for reading~! :3