AH I feel so bad for taking forever. Life is so hectic, migraines are terrible, and finding inspiration in the middle of everything is difficult. But I definitely know where the story is going so there's no way I'm giving up on it. Updates are just a bit slower than most, for which I apologize. You're support for this story is so amazing, I couldn't ask for better readers. For reviews thank you to the ever faithful GarGoyl, Sora Resi, Killerkitty15, and Adina2938! Your reviews make me smile, and I love talking to you. I hope you all like this chapter!

Still do not own Hetalia and warnings still apply.

Chapter 10

A New Beginning

The days slipped by so quickly that I didn't have time to catch up. Doctors constantly were coming in and out, asking me questions about everything from how my toes felt to the last time I thought of something other than my lifestyle, or previous lifestyle, I was so confused I didn't know which was more appropriate. I had decided that starting conflict obviously wasn't a good choice, so I settled on being the appeaser, giving them everything they wanted, I just wanted out. Francis came quite frequently, slowly seeming to cheer up, though I couldn't get the image of his guilt ridden and insecure face out of my mind or the sound of his sobs for that matter. Doctor Wang continued his visits, always carrying that clipboard. He had yet to bring the idea of sexual abuse back into the conversation.

I had grown stronger by their standards, having been given proper medical treatment and food. I was even walking around. They always told me how much color had returned to my cheeks or that I would be back on my feet before I knew it. Obviously they weren't around when I woke up with a scream on my tongue, drenched in sweat, hands with grooves from where my nails dug into my skin as I clenched up. What standards were they going by anyway? A new doctor had made himself known as well, Doctor Beilschmidt. He was different from the others, as he only focused on how messed up my mind was. He was related to Francis' friend Gilbert and his overly productive brother Ludwig, and was rather intimidating for a therapist. He asked even more questions, ranging from what I ate that day to what my favorite color was. He would bring up my situation frequently, prodding at my feelings, analyzing in even more detail how everything supposedly affected me. I only listened to what he said, answering in the right place. It was all so overwhelming.

The thought that I was keeping half the story from everyone constantly gnawed at my mind, guilt setting in. They would be so angry if they found out, wouldn't they? They had asked me if he had done anything and I had so firmly said no. I would be judged even more than I already was. I could just picture the disappointed looks on their face when they realized I was tainted, not the pure victim they assumed I was. These thoughts consumed every fabric of my being, spreading to every interaction I had with others, the ideas popping into my mind. Imagine what he would think if he knew. They'd never talk to someone as filthy as you. Why are you worthy for their companionship? Why? How? Sometimes I found myself shaking out of pure frustration.

Currently, I found myself listening to Francis' Aunt going on about how she would work everything out. She seemed pleased with the arrangement of my moving in, already treating me so nicely. Would she still if she knew? They were clearing out the guest room, making sure I had everything I needed, making room for my belongings. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I really didn't have any that were worth retrieving. Francis listened quietly, seeming amused with his Aunt's babblings, but also concerned. Every time he looked at me he had that worried glint in his eyes. He didn't tease me nearly as much as he should have been, so much that it felt unnatural and uncomfortable. Weren't we always bickering? Even if it was playful? Now, he only seemed so bloody tense, as if I was about to break at any second. If only he knew how right he was.

"You'll fit right in I'm sure, Cher!" I heard her loud voice exclaim rather excitedly.

I looked upon her soft features and tried to read what she was truly feeling. Of course she wasn't this cheery. Did she even want me there? Did someone, namely Francis, persuade her into this? She tried her best to look happy but I could see the sadness in her eyes. Offering a miniscule of a smile I nodded, letting her play out her scenarios in peace. Once she left to talk to various people, Francis turned to me, seeming, for the millionth time, apologetic.

"I know she can be a bit overbearing…She wants what's best for you, she truly cares, you know…"

I only nodded, still processing the statements from a few minutes ago.

"I was thinking you know…" He began again, looking around the room, causing me to focus back on him.

"Were you now?" I was desperate for some of our old banter. I was finished with the sop story.

He actually managed a smirk and seemed to relax, continuing on with his statement. "I know you probably can't get any of your old clothes back, so I thought I could take you shopping when you're discharged. We can go somewhere outside of town to be safe."

I blinked. Shopping? The only shopping I had done was thrift stores to get only what I needed. How on Earth would I even pay for new clothes? I was just about to ask when he started chuckling.

"The look on your face is truly priceless, lapin, obviously I would pay, and it's no trouble,"

"Are you sure? I can't let you do that-" But he would hear nothing.

The visit went on until both Doctor Wang and Doctor Beilschmidt showed up in the doorway, silently signaling that what was to be discussed would have to be private. Francis gave one last smile before taking his leave, probably going off to find his Aunt. The new arrivals each planted themselves in chairs by my bedside and looked between each other and me, plotting out what would be said.

"How are you feeling today?" Doctor Wang asked, probably knowing I trusted him more than his companion.

I just nodded, not wanting to go into the entire discussion of my feelings at that particular moment. He smiled slightly and looked over his notes.

"Well, Arthur, good news, we want to discharge you tomorrow, you're strong enough. Of course, we'd like you to still come back for therapy and regular check-ups,"

This was it, wasn't it? Now everything would be different. 'A new beginning' they kept calling it. I looked between the two doctors and wondered what sort of discussion went into deciding this. Doctor Beilschmidt coughed and adjusted in his chair.

"I would like to keep meeting with you to help you progress past your past experiences…" His voice was as gruff as ever and I only agreed quietly, working out everything in my mind.

"Of course, as I understand it, you'll be going home with that blonde boy and his family?"

I blinked then nodded again, the finality of it all setting in. I wouldn't be going back to him. I would be going towards warmth. Apparently, they were working out all the official regulations regarding that monster and promised to make it as easy for me as possible. They wanted a smooth path to recovery. I only half listened to them go over what the next steps would be and how everything would play out, as I was suddenly caught up in what tomorrow would bring. I would go home with the Bonnefoys? I wondered how long they would want to keep me. Not to mention the secret that was always there creeping up. Should I have said something? I looked back at them and gave my best pleased expression, relaxing when smiles grew on their faces as they seemed pleased with their work. I was another job well done to them, as I was able to leave without permanent severe complications, or so I hoped. There was always still that dull ache in my lower backside that came and went.

They continued their chatter for several minutes before they realized that I wasn't listening and I heard their chairs screech against the floor as they stood. Looking up at them, I watched them bid me goodbye and take their leave, continuing to talk about something that was probably still wrong with me. I looked over at the flowers that were still on my side table, the same ones that Francis had brought when he came to apologize. I began my cycle of worrying that always came with being trapped in the same place, and went over all my current problems. There was the keeping of the extent of my abuse, what to do about my education, money, and how I would actually survive normally all swirling around in my consciousness, poking fun at my weakness, flaunting how they could ruin what little of me was left.

Francis didn't come back for several hours, and when he did, I told him the news slowly. He seemed relieved that I wasn't stuck here any longer, and started talking about what he would do to help me catch up with everything that I've missed. He promised I was getting exemptions from a lot of things, and I could tell he was searching for the sense of normalcy that I wanted so badly. It would be so odd living with him, but hopefully it could go back to before he saw my true form. I missed the teasing. But how could it really be normal? I had learned about him as well. I knew the pills in his bathroom weren't for something like allergies, there was more that he wasn't telling me. Perhaps it would be my turn to be the outsider and see another person's struggles. Could someone really be as broken as I was?

The next day came faster than I could process, and suddenly, I was watching all the paperwork that was needed for discharge be placed in front of me. I hardly remembered signing anything before I was being wheeled towards the car that would take me to a place I still wondered what to call. I had the clothes I was wearing when everything started and my school bag with me, and I began to accept that those items were all I'd ever get from my old cage. As we drove from the hospital, fear came back to me. In the hospital I knew I was safe, but now, I was sure that there was the very real possibility he would find me. Francis' house was so close to his. Maybe he'd see me through the car window? Or perhaps he would wait at school, which was rather likely, if he even cared enough.

The ride was silent, and I felt Francis shifting, probably nervously, beside me. I looked at the scenery as we drove through the main part of town, taking it all in with a new perspective. I had never really observed the small place before, always in a rush to get back to my prison. Looking at it now I saw that it was rather quaint, with small shops and restaurants lining the main road. I wondered if the Bonnefoy family came this way often for entertainment. I tensed up as we passed the school and the streets of houses near to his. As we drew closer, the Frenchman seemed to take note, his eyes looking over the upcoming street that the house was on. Tears pricked my eyes as we passed, much to my irritation and shame, and for the briefest of moments, a hand was on my own, squeezing reassuringly. The hand slipped back to its original place before I could address the action, but I was too preoccupied to care. I was still staring back even after the mere seconds that it took to pass the street. What was he doing now?

I didn't look forward until we had pulled into the clean, white driveway. The house stood before me, seeming so intimidating yet so welcoming. Would I really stay here? Doors opened and on numb legs I followed the family inside, being pulled along, unable to stop even if I wanted too. The two young girls, Michelle and Camille, from my last visit stood to meet us as everyone shuffled inside, seeming so normal while I was left in shock. They smiled, happy with their new visitor, and waved. I tried to be polite, giving a small smile back, worried that the slightest slip up here would mean me being kicked out and left to my own defenses. I wondered if they were already waiting for the perfect opportunity to let me go.

They all spoke in French, leaving me to stand awkwardly in the corner, waiting for instruction. I suppose they assumed I would know what to do from this point on, as they all began settling in. Was I supposed to just sit with them and relax? Minutes passed and I remained standing not far from the doorway, probably looking like the biggest idiot one could imagine. Eventually, much to my relief, Francis soon returned, seeming to have been looking for me, and smiled softly.

"I'm assumed you would follow, come, I'll show you your room,"

How was he so sure of his actions? I felt like I was on cracking ice as I followed him up the stairs. Was he not nervous that this wouldn't work out? Why were they doing this? He yawned and ran his hand through that hair of his as he shuffled down the hall, only in socks, and eventually stopped at a door that was next to his room. He hummed lightly as he opened it, and stepped aside so I could walk through. I stared, wide eyed, at the lay out before me, as if it were a royal palace. It was the largest room anyone had allowed me to stay in without the threat of pain, and, at least in my opinion, my first real room. Francis didn't share my amazement, simply observing me with a perplexed expression. I had to remember that this was normal for him, and that I looked like a fool gaping at what he probably considered a standard space.

The walls were painted a soft blue, with an actual bed complete with full linens in the middle. There were side tables on each side of the bed and a dresser on the opposite wall. There was even a desk and chair. I felt like a prince. I was never given so much in one day. I turned to look at the frog, expecting a catch, but he continued to stare at me, and I couldn't tell if he was saddened by my reaction or pleased.

"I'm glad you like it," He murmured quietly as I approached the bed.

"It really is too much…" I heard myself whisper, looking out a window that was above the desk.

"I could give you anything in this house, lapin, and it still wouldn't be enough after what you've been through,"

I looked back at him, and saw a sad smile on his face. I was momentarily shocked by his words, expecting a snarky comment, or at least longing for one. Before I could respond, he told me that I should rest and walked off before I could stop him. A sigh escaped me as I turned back to look at the room I was given. I didn't want to touch anything, afraid that I would somehow get in trouble. I heard them talking and bustling about once more, and I eventually allowed myself to sit in the chair at the desk. I didn't know what they expected me to do now, and I remained tense as I sat there.

They seemed to have fully prepared the room, setting up the desk with pens and paper, and leaving extra blankets beside the bed. I spent the time watching the scenery out the window, seeing the dog walkers and joggers, with the occasional group of kids, all so carefree, not worrying about being seen by someone who could hurt them. The wind ran through the trees in the lawn softly, and as I engrossed myself in the leaves that blew I relaxed just slightly. Not much time passed before Francis returned with towels in his hand, knocking on the open door.

"Aunt Bella suggested that a shower may help relax you. Here are some towels; you know where the bathroom is. I'm sure you'd want one by now. After that, come down for dinner,"

I watched him and nodded slowly, processing that I would be doing a lot of things with the Bonnefoy family. He chuckled and set the towels down, taking his exit for the second time in those few hours, and I slowly moved to follow, heading towards the bathroom. Shutting the door, I turned to look at the pristine shower, the tiles that weren't cracked, and the mirror that was spotless. Of course, the medication was still lined up neatly along the sink, and I wondered if Francis would ever delve into the details of why he had more than one. He certainly knew enough about me.

I looked back at the shower and turned the dials slowly, hoping the sound of the water wouldn't cause any irritation to the permanent residents downstairs. Slowly taking off my clothes I slipped into the water that was pleasantly warm, and felt relief on my aching muscles. For the first time in years, there weren't wounds that needed urgent medical attention that burned when the water hit them. Instead, it was rather soothing. Using the least amount of soap I could, I washed myself, feeling cleaner than I had in a long time, even if there was still that long lasting layer of filth that came with being the slave of a monster.

I wanted to stay in the water forever, relishing in its comforting warmth, but I was worried about being late to their dinner. I dried myself off slowly, looking in the mirror to take in my appearance. My hair was as unruly as ever, but I supposed I didn't look quite as beaten down or scrawny as I did a month ago. I picked up my baggy clothes and put them back on, frowning at how they made me look so pathetic and small. Never had I taken notice before, but as I looked at everyone else while in the hospital and here in this house, I felt like they showed my true deplorable self quite well. I heard laughing as I began my way down the stairs, pausing at almost every step, judging the atmosphere below.

I found Francis and his Aunt in the kitchen, both working together to cook dinner. They seemed perfectly content, even laughing with each other a bit. The two girls were seated in the living room, playing cards, giggling over various topics. Looking around, I didn't want to disrupt their peaceful activities, understanding that as soon as I made my presence known they would instantly change their demeanors. Who wouldn't? I could almost laugh to myself, wondering what it would be like if they really knew the extent of what happened. Perhaps they wouldn't have even invited me to dinner.

I remained hidden for several moments, judging which room would be most affected if I suddenly walked in. I didn't get to make the choice though, as when I shifted the floor creaked, alerting not just one room but both that I was standing there. Francis' Aunt was in front of me before I could retreat with that overly warm smile on her face.

"I was wondering when you would come down, please, come sit,"

She didn't give me time to reply as I was ushered into the kitchen and given a seat at the table. It was set as elegantly as the time I was there before this all started. Never would I have imagined then that I would be living here. Francis gave me a slight smile before continuing his chatter with Bella, slipping into French. I hoped that they weren't talking about me, making judgments. Staring at my hands and the plate in front of me, I waited for a sign on what to do from there. I felt as if I should be doing something, not just sitting there. Food was suddenly placed in front of me before anyone was called to dinner. I looked up to see Francis beside me, slowly taking a seat with a small meal of his own.

"After you're rested up and settled in, Bella wants me to take you shopping. You could use some new clothes…" He murmured quietly, sounding far too gentle for me to be comfortable.

"Like I said, I can't let you do that, you shouldn't spend your money on me," I began to argue, feeling only a little more confident in my actions.

He only chuckled and shook his head, shifting so he could look at me squarely, "You can't wear those every day, you know. I doubt my clothes will fit you that well anyway. Besides, you wouldn't be caught dead in what I wear, right?"

Ah, so he was getting sarcastic again, finally. With a sigh I looked back down at another very French meal before me and shook my head.

"It really is a waste, but if you insist, I won't stop you, though, you aren't picking out my shirts."

For a moment I thought I said something too harsh, as I truly didn't know where my boundaries were. He looked at me for a moment before starting to laugh, allowing me to breathe. He laughed quietly, but seemed so amused by my statement. I pretended to look annoyed, huffing as I shifted towards my food, but I was secretly overjoyed that we had at least a little playful banter in the conversation. After he finished laughing, he prodded me to eat, assuring me that I didn't have to wait for the others to join us, and that was the point of being served early. We continued quiet jabs at each other about what shopping would bring as I ate slowly. He mostly watched me, only taking small bites here and there when he was sure I wouldn't secretly dump it all in the trash when he turned away.

The rest of the Bonnefoy family came to sit only when we were finishing up, and I heard Bella say something to Francis as he took my plate to wash it. I looked between the family who was busy eating the meal and Francis who seemed perfectly content to do dishes. I walked over slowly, wondering if I should help him, but before I could do anything he assured me that it was only two dishes and that I shouldn't waste energy on helping. While I didn't like to be considered so delicate, I was too afraid to argue with him, and waited patiently to be excused upstairs. He beckoned me to follow him as he moved up towards his room, eventually sitting comfortably on the bed. As stiffly as the last time, I found myself on the edge of the mattress, watching him go through his phone. Would this be the nightly routine?

"You're so tense…" He observed, eyeing me over his screen.

"Am I?" My voice was thicker than it should have been, and I cursed myself for being so fearful.

"Oui, I won't bite, you can relax. They won't bite either; you can do what you want here…" He had put his phone down and was looking at me fully.

"I'm just not used to it; I'll do better in a few days…" Why did I sound so apologetic?

"You don't have to worry, we're nothing like him; we won't hurt you, you don't have to apologize for being nervous," He sounded quite sincere, and I didn't want to object.

"I know…" I whispered, looking down at my feet, slightly ashamed that I would ever consider the option.

There was a soft sigh beside me and I felt movement until the Frenchman was resting beside me, looking down along with me.

"You know if there's anything you need, you can ask. I wouldn't expect anything less…"

I nodded, feeling his hand on my shoulder. I wondered if I could ever tell him the truth. Suddenly, I felt very tired, more so than I expected, and let out a yawn. If Francis wasn't worried before, he certainly was then, quickly telling me that I should get some rest, and moving to pull out the smallest pajamas he had.

"Here, these should at least let you sleep comfortably. I'm not going to school tomorrow so I can stay with you, and we'll see how you are then, oui? Perhaps we may go out for a bit for a change of scenery," He said, actually seeming hopeful.

"Whatever you say, frog…" I managed a small smile and moved towards my room.

Upon entering for the second time that day, I shut the door and quickly moved to change, feeling slightly awkward for having to wear his clothes. Despite us being the same height he was certainly built differently. I turned to look at the bed, and moved slowly, running my hands along the bed spread. I didn't want to pull them back, afraid to ruin how nice they looked. Reluctantly, after a few moments, I did move them and looked upon the sheets. They were the most inviting pieces of cloth I had ever seen. I sat on the mattress, surprised at how soft it was, and eventually grew comfortable laying back against the blankets. Even when I had a bed when I was younger it wasn't this comfortable. I didn't deserve it.

As I began to wind down, I realized that I had left the lamp by the bed on. I thought I would be able to turn the light off without a problem, and even though I would be prone to nightmares, I assumed I could sleep rather well. However, the closer I got to the switch, the harder I began to shake. Was I really hiding this all day? Had I really fallen so far that I couldn't turn off a bloody light? I frowned and looked towards the door. Would they care if I left it on? I realized that I wouldn't be able to make myself turn it off after several minutes of staring at it, and I hesitantly decided to lie down against the pillows again. I pulled the sheets up over my shoulders and curled up, fear slowly setting in.

I tried my hardest to assure myself that he wouldn't find me here. He had no idea where I was. I tossed and turned, listening to the others eventually make their way upstairs. There were several murmurs of 'bonne nuit' before the house was silent. I wondered if Francis had fallen asleep yet, or if he was lying awake with his own demons. I found a comfortable position that allowed me to feel hidden from any dark corners or crevices, even with the lamp on. After what seemed like hours of trying to force myself to sleep, it finally came and I felt myself drift off. I was physically comfortable, but the mental scars and wounds continuously made themselves known. I hoped I wouldn't do something dramatic like wake up screaming or have a breakdown that would scare off these new allies of mine. Before I finally fell into slumber's grasp I thought of the next morning and shopping, or what living with Francis would be like. I hoped for some normalcy in this hectic turmoil I was given. I hoped for some peace.

And we have the next chapter! I hope you all like it, and for those curious there will be more development of Francis' character and his relationship with Arthur in the next few chapters. I will update as soon as I can and deeply appreciate all of your support. Until next time!

For reference:

Doctor Beilschmidt is Germania

Camille is Monaco

Michelle is Seychelles