"Mi amigo," Antonio said as he put a hand on his shoulder. "Do not give up. We will find them soon. I can feel it." He gave his usual bright, cheery smile and Francis looked up at him, a small glimmer of hope in his eyes, before his head fell back down to the bar top. "Come on, Francisco. I'll buy you a drink, si? That will make you feel better and take your mind off of everything."

The Frenchman didn't move or make an attempt to respond.

A slight buzzing caught his attention and he frowned.

Fumbling with his pockets, he managed to pull out his phone just as the buzzing stopped. 'ONE MISSED CALL' was displayed on the screen. A few moments later the message, 'ONE NEW VOICEMAIL' popped up.

Looking over his shoulder, Antonio asked, "Who called you?"

"Je ne sais pas," Francis replied, unlocking his phone to check. "Amerique apparently. I wonder what he wants." He put his elbow on the bar and rested his cheek on his palm. Clicking the play button on the message, he closed his eyes, not wanting to deal with the loud nation.

But when a quiet, desperate voice reached his ear instead of a loud, obnoxious one his eyes flew open. Slowly the color in his face drained as he listened to the message.

"What is it, amigo?" whispered Antonio, noticing his pale face and wide eyes.

"A-Arthur," was the only thing he could choke out. He pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed speaker before playing the message again so the Spaniard could hear too.

When the short message finished they both stared at the phone.

"N-Noel is still sick…?" Francis mumbled, looking dazed. "I-It's been nearly a month since she got sick…"

"She'll be okay. I know she will." Antonio smiled at him again before becoming serious, an odd emotion for the cheery nation. "But right now we need to figure out where they are."

"I think I can help," a quiet voice from behind them said.

Turning, they saw the Canadian boy looking nervously at them.

"Mathieu, what did you find out?" Francis asked, reaching out to him and taking his hands in his own.

"W-Well…I followed A-Alfred home from the meeting a-and he went somewhere strange. I-It was all run down a-and the windows w-were boarded up. I-It didn't seem like s-somewhere he would n-normally go…"

He stood up.

"Montre-moi," he ordered, eyes flashing.

Arthur was sitting with Noel in his lap. Her fever had yet to go down and he was really worried. Looking at the time, he saw that Alfred should be home soon.

Noel let out a little whimper and he drew his attention back to her.

"Soon, pet," he soothed, petting her hair. "He'll be back soon with some medicine to make you feel all better."

They sat quietly for a while, Arthur trying his best to make the young girl as comfortable as possible. He kept glancing at the clock, biting his lip. Alfred needed to get back, now. Noel's life might end if he took much longer.

"Arthur…" He looked up when he thought he heard his name but didn't see anyone. Again he thought he heard his name so he gently moved Noel from his lap back to her bed and tucked her in tightly before getting up and tip-toeing out of the room. There was no one in the small apartment but as he neared the front door he heard his name louder.

Someone knocked on the door and he jumped.

"Arthur?"

The Englishman felt his heart soar.

"Francis?" he called back, running over to the door. "Francis, is that you?!"

"Arthur, mon cher," the voice on the other side of the door replied. "Let me in!"

"I can't! The door is locked and I don't know how to open it!"

There was a pause.

"Move away from the door," the man commanded gently.

Instantly Arthur obeyed, taking a few steps back, and waited.

THUMP

THUMP

THUMP

CRASH

The door collapsed inward and where it once hung was Francis, rubbing his shoulder.

"Francis!"

He ran over to the Frenchman and hugged him tightly, closing his eyes and trying to stop himself from crying. Francis had found him. Things were finally going to be alright once more. Francis was going to rescue him and Noel from this horrible place and make sure that their little girl was taken care of. There wasn't anything to worry about now that his Frenchman had come.

"Arthur, mon cher…" Francis whispered, sounding disbelieving. "I was so worried about you…I was scared I might never see you again…I thought you and Noel had left moi for being gone so long…"

The shorter man looked up at him, shock clearly written on his face.

"W-What? Francis, I would never do something like that to you. That was your job. We both knew you didn't want to go but you had to. Your boss was making you."

"Je sais. Je sais but with you both gone I couldn't help but think things like that."

Arthur reached up and gently put his hand on Francis' cheek, hoping to push out all of the dark thoughts plaguing the man's head.

"Never think that, dear. Never. I would never leave you. I love you too much for that."

The Frenchman smiled a little, teas in his eyes. Arthur didn't hate him. And he didn't leave him. It was almost too much for him to bear.

"Go get Noel," he urged quietly, letting go of him. "We have to leave before Alfred gets back."

Nodding, Arthur dashed from the room to retrieve the little girl.

"Francis!" Matthew's terrified voice yelled suddenly from the hall. "Look out!"

"Quo-?"

He was cut off as three bullets embedded themselves in his stomach.

Collapsing to the ground he saw Alfred step into the doorway.