Chapter 10
"I'm going to band practice, I'll be back in a few hours!" Arthur calls as he walks out of the front door, pulling it shut behind him.
Francis replies with a vague, "Goodbye." and continues to contemplate the mess of their apartment. It has been a few days since Alfred and Matthew moved in, though still temporarily, and unsurprisingly their living area has become a complete
mess. Most students are already studying for their fast approaching exams and so there are books, canvases, folders, textbooks, all manner of things strewn around their flat and it is becoming less and less liveable. Francis himself has six separate
paintings on the go, one of which being his huge A1 canvas he's has been working on for weeks, as well as write-ups, evaluations and other drawing to complete. Not to mention studying for a theory exam. He finds himself stressing out just at the thought
of the workload, but it does help to know that everyone else is going through similar ordeals.
Alfred is asleep on the floor in his makeshift bed, apparently tired from morning lectures and having stayed up too late doing work, and Francis rolls his eyes lightheartedly at his ability to sleep at any given opportunity. Matthew had gone out
to the library so they'd all have more space, but Francis decides suddenly that he can't deal with all of the mess that still remains.
He figures it's worth a little time cleaning in order to get a better work environment, and so gets to work. Francis sorts everything into piles, all of his own art supplies in his little corner by the window and in his bedroom, Arthur's books and folders
in the bookshelf but easily accessible, and Alfred's physics work into a hefty pile next to Matthew's far more organised maths.
Francis is just about to start some work in the now satisfyingly tidy living room when his phone starts ringing. He answers the call to hear a slightly distressed Arthur on the other side.
"Hey Francis. Um, we're not really sure what to do but I thought I would ring to tell you what's happening since we've already called the fire brigade so-"
"Fire brigade?" Francis interrupts, his voice rising slightly in mild panic.
"We're in our practice room but there's a fire somewhere downstairs and the we've been told to stay put for some-"
Francis hears a shouting but muffled voice in the background say something about "dumb rules" and "bullshit", but ignores it in favour of continuing to listen to Arthur.
"-but we don't think that's a good idea and so we're debating whether to try and jump out of the window, because the corridors are all completely filled with smoke and we don't know a safe way out especially since the fire is probably spreading closer."
"My god, Arthur. Please don't do anything reckless, you should wait until help comes! Just hold on, and don't get yourself killed."
Francis hangs up, leaps from his chair to grab a few possessions and runs out of the door, while Alfred is still sleeping on the floor. He literally bumps into Matthew who is coming home on the way in, and pulls the confused teen along with him. They
hail a taxi, and the fifteen minute journey feels like hours to Francis. Matthew reaches his hand to Francis' knee and holds it still, and he only then realises he had been nervously jiggling his leg.
"They'll be fine, Francis. The firefighters are probably already helping, and it's not like Arthur is on his own."
Francis smiles at the reassuring gestures of the Canadian, but finds it is rather more of a grimace. He can't help himself from worrying about Arthur; why is it always him who gets into these dangerous situations? All this worrying Arthur causes him are
going to give him forehead creases; he's probably doing to deliberately to steal Francis' youth.
They finally arrive at the old student's union - it had been opened for students to book the rooms for this and that, after a new union was built - and Francis looks up at the building gaping slightly.
Despite how the fire seems to have started near the middle of the ground floor, he can see flickers of orange and yellow through a couple of the windows and smoke billowing out of openings. Francis looks around the area, wondering why there is no one
putting out the fire, and sees in horror a single fire engine with firefighters struggling with tangled hoses and failing machinery, and yelling urgently at each other about the problems.
How organised. What a great time for their equipment to be broken.
There's no way anyone could find their way out of that building safely through all of the smoke, especially from upstairs… but perhaps he would be able to find his way coming in from the entrance.
Before he can stop himself, or even think, Francis is running into the smoky building, ignoring Matthew's distant cries and his own common sense telling him to stop. He had been to the room where Arthur's band practices a few times and he knows his way
around the building, so Francis knows where he is going. He heads towards a staircase that looks relatively free of danger, and sprints up one flight of stairs to search for the room on the first floor. He staggers around in the smoke, hacking and
wheezing into his arm. After a couple of minutes, getting more and more worried about his hopes of actually finding his way out of the smoke, he staggers into the room he recognises as the right one and shuts and door straight behind him.
Francis slumps to the floor and coughs and coughs, his lungs blaring and throat stinging.
"Francis?" an incredulous voice says, the accent informing him that it is Arthur.
He looks up through watering eyes and sees four people, recognising Arthur as one of them by his posture and figure.
"Ahah, found you."
His vision clears enough to see, and he recognises Gilbert, Matthias and Lukas standing near the window. They're looking out, most likely wondering if they'll need to try and climb out. They all gather around Francis however when they notice his appearance.
"Mein Gott, Franny, what're you doing here?"
He croaks out, "I pretty much know a way out from here, and I don't think anyone else is coming to save you anytime soon. It's not like I can let you all die."
He keeps it to himself, but admittedly Francis had mostly been thinking about Arthur with the whole rescuing thing. He feels rather guilty about Gilbert as well, realising that his best friend's life could be in danger too but he barely considered it.
Arthur gets over his surprise, and immediately confronts Francis.
"You idiot, what the bloody hell are you thinking? You could have got yourself killed! You shouldn't have got yourself in danger too, now there's just one more person stuck in this situation. You didn't even bring a wet cloth or anything to cover
you mouth, listen to how you're coughing! You've probably really fucked up your lungs with all that smoke!"
"Relax, relax, Arthur. I knew what I was getting myself into," A lie. "And I'm fine!" Another lie, his lung are on fire and he feels he needs to cough constantly. But they can worry about that later. "What's important at the moment
is getting you all out of this burning building, you'll die if you just wait around."
"We could jump out of the window though…" Matthias puts in.
Arthur sighs, "That would kill us too if we land wrong, we'd at least get broken bones."
"We can deal with broken bones though," Lukas says in a monotonous tone, looking completely done with everything, "at least we'd probably survive if we jumped. I doubt we would if we just ran blindly out into the smoke." His eyes turn
to Francis. "...Unless Frenchy over here knows a safe route out."
"I do. But it won't be safe for long if we carry on dawdling around here."
They decide to form a line holding each other's hands or shoulders, with Francis at the front leading them out of the building. They would make sure that the person in front and behind them is always present and okay. With slight regret, the musicians
make the decision to throw their instruments out the window and hope they're recoverable afterwards - which they wouldn't be if they were left to burn.
Gilbert looks depressed as he chucks one of his drums out and it smashes on impact of the slabbed paving six metres below. He gives up hope of his drum kit surviving and says goodbye to it mournfully in the corner, but pockets his drumsticks. Matthias'
flute isn't heavy and the cased instrument doesn't seem to take much damage in the fall. Arthur's guitar and Lukas' violin, however, hit the ground with loud thumps and rattles, despite the supposedly protective cases. They wear pained expressions
while looking down at their precious instruments, but repress them as they concentrate on getting themselves out.
The men line up one behind the other, tying damp fabric around their faces in hopes of protection against the smoke. Francis is leading and is followed by Arthur, Gilbert, Matthias and Lukas last, who claims he doesn't want to be near the crazy Prussian.
Francis allows himself to feel a little happy that Arthur is adamant to go behind him. The group prepares themselves, and Francis opens the hot, though not burning, door.
There is a whoosh of thick smoke and heat that startles them, but they follow Francis out nonetheless. He is completely blind in the smoke; everything is thick grey, and he can feel his eyes watering again and the urge to cough. He stumbles in the
direction he thinks he came in from and really hopes to locate the stairs. He can't let them down after saying he would be able to get them out, but Arthur's hand clutching his own reassures him.
After minutes of staggering around, Francis finds the stairwell with relief. Just as he goes to step down the first stair, he hears a muffled shout from behind.
"Lukas? Lukas is gone!"
"Matthias don't let go of my hand, we'll find him toge- Matthias! Dammit, come back!"
Francis has no idea what's going on, all he can hear are panicked shouts, and he tightens his grip on Arthur.
"I've found him, his foot went through the floor!"
Francis catches Lukas' voice, and he's relieved that he is still there.
"Agh, my ankle Matt, help, get it out." There is a scuffle, and Francis listens carefully to try and work out what is happening. He hears a scream, followed by a stream of cursing from both Nordics.
"You three go ahead, we'll follow by listening to your voices! Lukas has done something bad to his ankle, I have to help him."
Arthur swears behind Francis, but urges him forward. Francis carefully makes his way down the stairs, while Arthur and Gilbert make sure to call out to the Matthias and Lukas lagging behind to direct them and inform them of any obstacles.
Once Francis finds his way to the ground floor, he heads straight to where he knows the door is with the others following, but as he turns a corner a wave of scorching heat almost puts him on the ground and he becomes abruptly aware of the roaring of
the fire blocking their planned exit. He cries out, the overwhelming heat agonising at his fingertips and feeling as if it is searing his skin like he is being cooked in an oven. Francis backs up as quickly as possible considering here are four people
standing right behind him. He hears a hiss near his ear; Arthur feels the burning too.
The group manage to stagger away from the burning area enough to recover themselves for a moment, though the still can't see a thing through the smoke other than some light. Francis sees orange, and is terrified that the fire has spread to them somehow.
But when Arthur yelps, "Francis, you're on fire!" and starts batting at his chest, he realises his shirt had set alight in their previous close call with the fire. He can feel the heat of the flame unusually close to his skin, undoubtedly
burning him. He strangely doesn't feel a huge amount of pain resulting from it, and when they finally batt the fire out, he realises he must be running entirely on adrenaline.
Francis coughs violently, his chest excruciating and his head swimming. All he can hear are the sounds of people shouting from the other side of the room, Arthur's terrified voice in his ear, and the roar of the blaze. He chokes on the smoke. His ears
start ringing. Even his brain feels too clogged with smoke to think as the vague lights and shapes he could see fade into black and he slumps onto the floor.
Wow, this is getting dramatic again. xD Yeah, I know no one would really be this unlucky to have so much happen to them but whatever. Makes it more fun *(^o^)/*. Btw, I don't know a whole lot about how burning buildings and smoke inhalation works so please don't quote me on any of this stuff heheh. See ya! ╰(*´︶`*)╯