NAME: My Beautiful Nightmare

RATING: PG-13

WARNINGS: Angst, Iggy's mouth

CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: England/France ;; France -- Jeanne

SUMMARY: After a stunning defeat, France can't help but look back and wonder what the hell happened. Then someone unexpected comes to apologize…

~*~

She was gone. But they had won a war against his most deadly adversary yet. Arthur… when did his little friend grow up to become so destructive? His little Arthur was given those lands north of Francis's house by right of family ties. And now France and his people had had to run him out. And what did it cost? Arthur wouldn't speak to him, and Jeanne she… she was gone.

France fell forward on the bed once more, having thought about maybe going downstairs to make a cup of tea and maybe tend the new blooming roses that were turning up in his garden. But his heart was too broken; there had been too many losses for this war to be a good victory for the Frenchman. He had lost a hope and a friend almost in one single blow.

He was just about to close his eyes and gently die (if Nations could do that, which France doubted), when there was a light knock on his bedroom door. Now that was odd… France hadn't let anyone in his house since England had lived with him. The only person who had an extra key was…

France blanched, "I thought I had kicked you out, Arthur…" he said, pushing himself up and glaring at the aforementioned Englishman.

There was a look in Arthur's eyes that made Francis's eyes soften, however. It was as if Arthur was a child again and Francis had to comfort the usually brave-hearted child.

But as soon as Francis moved to hug the male in front of him, Arthur moved away, as if he had been telling himself to do something, and now that he was there, in front of Francis, he just couldn't do it. It had been two years since the war ended… what could Arthur have to say to him?

"What's wrong, Arthur…" Francis asked.

Arthur told himself he would not cry, nor would he beg. Instead, he turned back to Francis and balled his fists into two balls at his side. "I want to apologize…" he said quickly, and turned to go.

Arthur's words hit Francis harder then any of his cannons had back in the war. "Is this how your boss is conducting his business then? Sending you here?" he asked, "If he wants forgiveness, tell him to come here and face my king like a man!"

England stopped dead in his tracks, "You bloody bastard…" he hissed, one hand on the doorknob to France's bedroom, and the other still balled up and twitching slightly. "I didn't come because of him!" he yelled, turning around and facing Francis once more.

France blinked, turning his blue eyes from the intense green stare he was receiving from the young Nation. "Then…"

"I came here for me! And for you! I'm sorry. I screwed up and I feel bad! Shit, Francis!" England cried, nearly hitting the wall beside him. Francis's eyes widened and he went to the other, lightly putting his hands on the trembling form as finally tears ran down England's cheeks.

Francis, too, was crying now. England had come all the way down from London to apologize, and now he was nearly resorted to a trembling mess in his arms. England threw his arms around the other's waist as he cried into Francis's bare chest. It had certainly been a while since the green-eyed Nation had done something like this. Damn France.

"I… I had a nightmare last night. You were there, but you wouldn't talk to me. You ignored me and I woke up missing you, you damn bastard!" England suddenly yelled, pushing away from France and looking into his eyes, his rather large eyebrows furrowed.

Francis really couldn't help himself: he leaned down and kissed England's lips softly. England was at first slightly surprised, but as Francis parted from him, he found himself kissing the Frenchman with a little more fierceness than the first kiss between the two earlier. He pulled away and looked off to the side. "Bastard…"

Francis crooked his head to the side and pulled England to the bed, sitting down with the Englishman on his lap. England couldn't help but blush more as he saw the predicament, but France really meant no harm by the action. "Somehow that seems like a beautiful nightmare of yours…"

"You could say that…" Arthur replied.

"Well… I could never ignore you, Arthur…" Francis replied, smiling and kissing his little friend's forehead.

The action only made the green-eyed male bush more, especially when Francis kissed the tears from his eyes. "D-Dammit, Francis!"

"Shh…" Francis replied, and pressed the other close to him as he began to sing, showing the other that he shouldn't be having nightmares about a dreaded silence between them:

Lullaby, and good night,

With pink roses bedight,

With lilies overspread,

Is my baby's sweet head.

Lay you down now, and rest,

May your slumber be blessed.

Lay you down now, and rest,

May thy slumber be blessed.

Lullaby, and good night,

You are your mother's delight,

Shining angels beside

My darling abide.

Soft and warm is your bed,

Close your eyes and rest your head…

France kept singing, but he glanced down at his guest, who was breathing evenly, intense green eyes closed in sleep. Hopefully his dreams would be sweet this time…

~*~

Yeah, yeah, yeah... but you can hush. I've had a bad case of writer's block, and finally I do this 'Free Write' and this is what happened.

And I liked it. Hope you do as well.

Adieu!