Hello, WS13 back again, this time with a Hetalia fanfic that ISN'T UsUk. I wasn't planning on uploading it, just because I didn't have plans to finish it, but hey. My awesomeness was irresistible to my Hungary apparently~

Anyways, I don't own and all that.

It was cold and clear as the white-haired and red-eyed teen stepped out into the winter air. He let out a small shiver, but didn't grab a coat, only wearing a t-shirt and jeans. A black backpack was slung over his shoulder. The neighborhood around him was silent, and the night was only illuminated by the sliver of the moon that hung in the middle of the sky. He looked up at it, and let out a breath, watching the air vapor disappear into the night that was consuming him.

It wasn't the first time he had done this, not the first time that he had snuck out in the night, but this time was different. This time it wasn't to look at the stars, to meet anyone, or to clear his head.

Oh he wished.

But this time was so different, not in the act, but in the reason.

This time… this time he wasn't going to come back. Sure, he's threatened to run away, or at least speculated about the idea. But this time he was truly leaving for good. It was over; he just couldn't stand it anymore. Something had to give.

The teenager considered calling his friends, but didn't want them to convince him to go back. It wasn't like he was hard to miss, anyways. He had a loud and egotistical personality, strange white hair and red eyes, and a rough voice. He stood out, so he could be dragged back so easily. He would be noticed missing in a heartbeat.

But it was winter, he knew he had to stay somewhere, and he didn't have the money to go to a motel, not even the run-down one on the other side of town that he and his two closest friends had stayed a weekend at.

Wait.

That was it. That was it!

Francis and Antonio. They would have to understand, even if they might protest, and they would never make him go back. After all, the world knew them as set, Francis, Antonio, and himself-Gilbert. The Bad Touch Trio. Inseparable troublemakers. The ones every girl swooned after.

This would have to work, and he didn't see any other options. After deciding this, Gilbert pulled out his cell phone, and dialed Francis.

"Gil..?" came a sleepy voice, with a heavy French accent. "What zhe 'ell are you call zhe tres bein moi at this 'our for?"

Gilbert sighed quickly and came out with it. "My awesomeness expanded way too much for zhat unawesome place, so I'm leaving my house." He said, with a casual tone of someone saying they called because they had the spare time, and with no real reason.

"Mon deui, what are you zhinking! And what 'appened?' Francis said. Concern was evidence in his voice. For a few seconds the Frenchman was answered with silence, as the white haired teen thought about what he was going to say

"It happened again…" He spoke finally. His voice was quieter than usual, but no different in tone.

" 'ow bad was it?" Francis knew just from that sentence what Gilbert was talking about. He knew that Gilbert's parents weren't the nicest, and sometimes things would get a bit… rough at home. Usually it was arguments, words, and insults. Or what Gilbert had come to hate the most: silence. And the looks.

But that wasn't unusual. No, "it" meant one thing, and that was that his home life escalated to violence. It wasn't a common thing to happen, but it had before. At first, Gilbert had tried to hide it until one day when he broke down and told Francis what had been going on. But that was when things were bad, and he was being hit nearly every argument that happened.

Things had supposedly gotten better.

But the thing is, better isn't restraining yourself while the harsh words haunt you. Better isn't ignoring the issue.

"Worse… Vatti has been drinking more often, und I happened to be 'speaking threateningly' while he was stressed from work. Everyone's just fallen asleep…" Gilbert sighed, watching his breath puff out visibly and disperse, illuminated by the streetlights and stars.

"Are you 'urt mon ami?" the other teen asked, sounding ever more awake. "And you better tell me zhe truth!" He added, knowing his friend's ego might just stop him from answering that question truthfully.

"Me? Lie?" Gilbert attempted to joke. He was met with a serious silence. Now wasn't the time to jest. "Geez, Francypants, I get it. It's just a few bruises anyways…" his casual tone tried it's best to hide the hurt in his voice, but if there was one thing he could do it was see his friends' emotions.

"Bruises? Gilbert!" came the blonde's alarmed voice.

"Ja, don't worry it's not that bad. It's not like I'm going to die or anything."

And he wasn't lying. The bruises were small, just on his arm and one on his shoulder. They didn't even hurt too much.

Then again, it wasn't really about that. It was more the line that had been crossed and the fact that his vatti would actually harm him.

The one person he was supposed to trust, look up to, depend on…. What had he done to screw things up so badly?

No.

Stop.

He re-winded his thoughts and focused instead on the conversation and the bite of the cold.

"Oui, I know, but you can't blame me for worrying about my friend, non?" Francis asked, not expecting an answer. "Where are you? Mon mere is on a work trip, no one's here to notice if I slip out to find you."

Gilbert looked at the street sign. He had only managed to wander a few blocks from his house. After relaying the information to his friend, and receiving an answer of "I'll be there, don't move" he decided to call Antonio. He'd probably be upset if anything like this went down without him knowing about it. Not to mention, if it came down to it, his place might be the easiest to crash at, if he was home.

Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ri-"Mnnn… Hola?" Came the sleepy voice. "What do you need mi amigo, it's late…" He trailed off with a yawn.

Gilbert sighed, not enjoying explaining things twice. But he did, earning an alarmed rant from the Spaniard, who hadn't had as much knowledge of just everything that had been going on.

It wasn't that Gilbert didn't trust him with the information, but Toni was always just so happy and the few times they've seen him sad? Well, Gilbert didn't want to give his friend a reason to start worrying. So he didn't know all of the details… Until now of course.

"Francis is coming to meet the awesome me, are you at your house or your boyfriend's?" Gilbert let a mocking tone-playful of course-slip into his voice.

"Lovi isn't my boyfriend, Gil!" Antonio reminded.

"Yet." Antonio didn't have a reply to that. "So, which is it?"

"Hm? Oh! Houses! I'm at my own. Do you want me to come as well, mi amigo?" he asked.

"Do what you want, the awesome me will be fine either way. I've already got a French hen fussing over me." Gilbert said.

"Ha, you mean Francis, si? Well, I'll be there soon!" Antonio hung up.

The stars could be seen, shining brightly, the albino teen realized. He sat on a nearby bench, shivering slightly at the cool touch of the metal, and put back his head, loosing himself in the stars.

Soon, Gilbert could hear the sound of a car pulling up. He only snapped out of his daze as he heard the clicking of a car door opening. He turned his gaze away from the starlit sky to see who it was, and saw Francis's familiar face.

Alright, that's the end. I won't be continuing this unless someone really needs to know what happens next, but still do comment on it, because comments are awesome, like me.