"You can make it; I believe in you."

"I can't— I can't."

"Please, we're so close. Look! There's an elevator shaft that goes up. It looks like it still works."

Francis winced as he tried his best hold up Arthur's weight as they hobbled through the mines. Arthur whimpered as they both made their way towards the shaft, his broken leg weakly dragging beneath him. Both were too injured to walk on their own, yet were barely able to help each other walk. There was no way they were going to simply lie here and make themselves a grave. If there was a way to get down here, there must've been another way to get out. Besides, this was a mine. There's countless exits and entrances.

Reaching the shaft, Francis gingerly set Arthur down on the platform and quickly turned on the power. Luckily, it was still on for reasons unknown. This could mean someone else alive and well minded was down here. However, Francis didn't ponder further on that possibility for it mattered very little to him.

After a few splutters, the shaft very slowly began to ascend upwards. Francis sat down beside Arthur, grimacing at his open wounds.

"Here... wear this." Arthur said softly, pulling the old turtle shirt over his head.

"No, I can't take that. You'll freeze if you don't wear it." Francis refused, giving a soft grin.

Ignoring the other's protest, Arthur shoved the shirt into Francis's hands.

"You're hurt on your chest and your back. You need coverage more than I do. Infections are dangerous, you know."

Francis chuckled lightly, slipping it over his head. The cotton stung his injuries but it gave a very thin relief as a cover from the cold breeze.

"Ah," He sighed, "I would counter with frostbite at being more dangerous but with this shirt or not we would still be equally at risk of it."

Arthur gave him a crooked smile in response, carefully leaning against him. For a moment, the only sound greeting their ears was the soft creaking of the shaft and whistle of the wind above their heads. It was eerily calming in comparison to the horrors that met them before.

Francis shifted a bit in the shirt, glancing down at it briefly. It looked awfully familiar... The feeling of the fabric didn't feel too foreign at all. Near the collar, a speck of red was seen. Francis was all to familiar to certain stains and this was... wine.

"Arthur," The boy inquired curiously, "where did you get this shirt?"

Arthur looked over at him, with a shrug. "This man down here gave it to me when I tried to get to you. He—"

The words leaving his mouth suddenly hung frozen in the air as his eyes widened in shock. Arthur shakily put a hand to his lips, renounced fear causing shudders to creep up and down his body.

"The man... I left without him. I left him f-for dead out there!" Arthur cried, guilty tears streaming down his cheeks. "Oh God— what if I killed him?! What if my reckless action killed him?! I-I can't... I–"

Francis frowned slightly, reaching over to hold Arthur's cold hand in his.

"Wait... who? What man? What are you talking about?"

Arthur let out a weak cry, unimaginable guilt flowing through him. Oh no... Ivan had saved him and informed him of what they needed to know. He gave him a shirt and knowledge to ensure safety. Yet, he left him for dead. What if he was dead? Arthur couldn't bare the guilt of having someone's blood on his hands. If he hadn't of jumped towards the wendigo, him and Ivan probably would have gotten to Francis in a safer and more efficient way. Maybe they wouldn't of had to go quietly up a shaft and-

"This man- he's the one who told me exactly what these monsters are. We were both going to save you and then tell the group about all this. His name is Ivan and he said he's been studying those monsters called Wendigo. He-He said they're very dangerous and—" Arthur was cut off again by a ragged breath as more anxiety flooded through his veins.

All of the fear and panic he had been keeping bottled up from the moment he rushed out of the cabin suddenly came out. A string of whimpers trickled from his lips, connecting to the stream of tears that dripped off his chin and onto his lap. Francis quickly let go of Arthur's hand to pull the other close in a comforting embrace.

"Shhh, it's going to be alright, Arthur. We're going to make it out of his alive. Both of us. All of us." The French boy reassured, smiling gently. "You said Ivan was going to help you save me and then go to the group, right? Maybe he's already with everyone else— warning them about what's going on. I am certain he is not dead. If he's been living here and studying these things, he must know how to protect himself."

Arthur listened to Francis, the other's words leveling out his own distraught ones. That made sense. Yes, he must be with the group now. Whether that was true or not, Arthur chose to focus on that to be the truth. That was better than his idea.

A silence set about the both of them, which was a nice thing. The soft howling of the wind up above was calming. Francis realized how much he yearned for a moment of silence and just peace. A moment like this seemed to happen ages ago. He couldn't believe all that happened in this one night. Only a few hours ago were they both at the cabin with everyone having a good time. Well, minus the bickering with Arthur and Alfred, but even so, surprisingly, Francis would much rather hear hours of that than be here.

"Francis," Arthur's voice interfered with Francis's thoughts suddenly, "what's that?"

On the wooden planks boarding the shaft, small writing was engraved onto it. It didn't look too old but it also didn't appear recently. Squinting, Francis leaned over to get a better look at what it says. The handwriting was rather sloppy as if someone was rushing to write it, or was too weak to keep a steady hand.

"It says... 'I am out of time. Yet, I feel stronger inside'." He responded with a tone of discomfort. What the hell would write that and why? What did they mean by run out of time? Why would they write it on here? Was someone hiding in here before but didn't make it out?

Arthur's eyes trailed from the writing to the floor of the shaft. In corner was an old photograph wedged between two wooden planks. Reaching over, he picked it out and looked at the photo. It was of two boys but the faces were feverishly scratched out. One boy was taller than the other and held a map of what appeared to be a zoo. The other was holding the taller one's hand and held a stuffed turtle in the other, holding it towards the tall one. It looked like they were on a date or just hanging out together. Whatever it was, the owner of the photograph seemed to really want to get rid of the faces. There was no way they could be made out, even when held up to the faint moonlight.

"What a haunting photograph." Francis mumbled, a feeling of uneasy bubbling in his stomach. "This reminds me of the zoo we used to go to on field trips with Mr. Lee in elementary school. Remember? The annual english class field trip."

"Ha, yeah..." Arthur sighed nostalgically. "I didn't know you back then. Weird, huh? We go to the same school since elementary school yet we don't properly get to know each other till later. Funny how that works."

It was a weird concept. It made one think about the concept of time and the world around them. Someone you meet recently could've been so involved in your life prior to that and you wouldn't have known. You probably have a huge role in someone's life yet aren't aware of it. Francis never spoke to Arthur in elementary school, yet he knew of the boy. He was aware of him but never close with him. Funny how just after the first exchanges of words after all that time could blossom the words of love.

The shaft suddenly lurched to a stop as it reached the top of the mines. Francis, smiling with hope, looked out and saw the stairs that led to the exit. It was right there. It seemed like they would never reach the top.

"Come on, lets go!" Francis exclaimed, shifting to get up. Before he could do anything, there was a loud screech. Arthur felt his blood run cold as the familiar sound of the wendigo was heard around the shaft. They both froze as they heard the scraping of stone and wood as the wendigo moved around outside the shaft.

"It followed us.." He whispered, holding Francis's hand tightly.

Suddenly, the side of the shaft was busted open with a sharp hand protruding from it. Arthur scrambled away from the side, pushing Francis out of the shaft.

"Go! Run! Run!" He shouted, forcing himself on his feet, hopping off the shaft.

Francis ran as fast as he could towards he exit before them, terrified thoughts racing once again through his mind. Oh God. Will they be able to escape it? With their injuries they can't make it so far. Arthur had a broken leg and Francis had a sore body and cuts and bruises everywhere. They were at a disadvantage. They couldn't just—

Suddenly, Francis heard a loud thud behind him as Arthur fell face down on the floor. He winced in pain as he held his leg that gave way under him.

"Arthur-!" Francis cried out, eyes widening in fear as the wendigo crawled towards his fallen lover.

Arthur turned his head just in time to see the wendigo's clouded eyes glaring at him. Mouth opening in terror, he tried to crawl away but it was no use. The wendigo was just to fast. In the blink of an eye, the wendigo grabbed Arthur in his hands, wrapping its sharp fingers around his bare torso.

"Arthur-!" Francis called out again, now running towards him.

"No!" Arthur yelled at Francis, grimacing in pain from the tight grip. He glared back at the wendigo, squirming around. "Get out of here! It won't get you if it's dealing with me! Go!"

Francis couldn't believe his ears. Was Arthur seriously telling him to leave him for dead here?! How the hell would he be able to bring himself to do that nonetheless think about it?!

"Arthur, I'm not leaving you!" He argued.

The Briton screamed in pain as he felt the wendigo's fingers pierce through his sides, a stream of blood dripping onto the stone ground.

"I said, get out of here! You need t-to warn the group! Leave, Francis! You're running out of time!" Arthur gasped, feeling its fingers dig deeper into him slowly but surely. He turned to Francis, forcing a smile. "You can come back for me, okay? I won't let this bugger kill me."

That was obviously a forced reassuring lie but Arthur was praying that Francis would take the bait. Luckily, he did, but barely.

Francis slowly backed away towards the exit, feet going against his wishes. He couldn't leave Arthur... He didn't want to. Hell, this is a horrible thing to be doing. He couldn't just leave him. But, Arthur was right. He needed to tell everyone. If by any chance Ivan wasn't there, he needed to be there to let them know. Yet, the torturous thought and knowing he had to leave Arthur was too much. He couldn't bear this. He couldn't. He-

"I-I'll be back! I promise!" Francis said shakily, tears running down his cheeks. His broken breaths made way for a sob as he made it to the stairs. "I-I love you, Arthur... I'm so sorry."

With that, he dashed up the stairs, crying uncontrollably from guilt.

Arthur watched him go, a saddened look crossing over his face. "I love you too, Francis... Be safe."

The wendigo halted for a moment at that, staring at Arthur. Arthur looked back to the wendigo, his glare returning to his teary eyed gaze. "You bloody bastard, piss off of us! Unhand me, please!"

The wendigo's glare returned as well, yet it ceased its deadly squeeze and impaling. Instead he slammed Arthur down on floor and started dragging him back down into the mines.

Arthur clawed at the stone floor as he was dragged, his screams and cries descending down with him.

Showtime.

A/N:

I have an idea on how this'll end so hopefully that now I have a plan I will write faster now (by faster, I mean less than month a part update lmao).

Also, I might start writing some stories for Overwatch since I'm really into that plus I'm really into Reaper76 and McHanzo at the moment sO :-)) who knows :-))

Anyways, enjoy! Leave your feedback in the comments/reviews. I love hearing from you guys as always. I wouldn't be writing this still if it weren't for you all.