Allistor knelt down next to them. "I think we woke him up…" he whispered, reaching forward to shake Peter's shoulder. "Peter, wake up, this is a really nice surprise…" a small groan rose from the lump as it slowly pulled itself up, Peter tugging the covers off.

"How come you had to wake me up Alli…?" he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I was having the nicest dream for once… we were at a picnic, and you were there, Arthur too, and mama and daddy..." The ginger-haired Kirkland boy just grinned and tousled his hair.

"I'm sorry Peter, but I assure you this is better than any dream." He gestured to the opposite side of the bed, drawing Peter's attention with him. The boy looked a bit surprised at first, as if he thought Francis had been part of his dream, and then a wide smile appeared across his freckles cheeks. He leapt forward and threw a hug around Francis's neck, kneeling so he wouldn't fall off of the bed completely and into Francis's lap.

"Bonjour again." Francis chuckled, pulling Peter over the small bed railing anyway. "A-Arthur and I decided to surprise you all and come early, stay an extra week… for Christmas…" He spared Allistor a glance to see if he was opposed to it but if anything he looked near tears, hiding a grin behind his knuckles.

"I-I didn't think I'd see you again…" Peter started, shifting to sit on Francis's knee. "Alfred is always talking about he would kill you if you set foot in the castle and sweep Alice off her feet, whatever that means, but I was kinda hoping he wouldn't… Oh, is Arthur here too? Where is he? Can I see him too?" Francis's smile faltered but he managed to keep it in place.

"Oui, Arthur is here… but he's resting now. I-it was a long trip here, you see, and um… w-well, I think he might have wanted to tell you himself but… pretty soon, y-you're going to have a little niece or nephew." He bit his lip, watching Peter's expression shift to slight confusion. He seemed to shrug off the news with blissful ignorance to what it meant.

"W-well, since you're here, I bet that means I get to hear some new bedtime stories, right?" he asked, his cheery smile appearing again. Francis chuckled.

"Oui, of course…" he replied. "I'll come and tell you one every night if you'd like…" The thought of that itself caused Allistor to visibly stiffen. He was relieved to see Peter give a little yawn, smiling again.

"Peter, you're probably still tired, hm? You should go back to bed, there will be plenty of time to talk to uncle Francis in the morning." He stood. "Francis, come with me, I'll get you some nightclothes, you can borrow mine for the night. Say goodnight Peter." He stood and left the room, eager to just grab a pair of pajamas and run back to get the man away from his precious brother as soon as possible. Peter laid back down, still looking at Francis. They were silent a few moments before Peter lifted his head, propping the pillow up behind him.

"Alli says that I'm not supposed to leave my room…" he started, a little frown painted across his pale lips. "He says I'm really, really sick… I haven't even seen mama or daddy since we got here, he says that they're really sick too…" his gaze darted to the door for a moment before he sat up, leaning in so that his lowered voice would be heard. "Sometimes, at night, I sneak out and explore though. It's kind of spooky, but… well, you get used to it." He grinned mischievously. "At night, if there are no clouds, you can see the moon through the top of the tower. There's no roof out there, did you see? It gets really snowy at night…" he laughed a little, although laughter slowly turned into a coughing fit. Francis sighed and lowered his pillow, tucking Peter in again. The boy squirmed and hugged his pillow, which Francis replaced with the little stuffed rabbit.

"Uncle…" he mumbled, not opening his eyes. "I'm glad that Arthur has you… Alli says that even being with Alfred would be better than being with a swine like you, but I think you seem a lot nicer than him. Alfred is always too busy to play with me…" he snuggled up to the rabbit and dozed off just a few moments before Allistor returned.

"Went back to sleep then, did he?" he whispered, gesturing for Francis to follow. They only went to the next room over. Allistor tossed a pair of flannel pajamas at Francis and nodded at the single-person bed.

"I don't think it will be safe for Arthur to sleep with another person right now, being in the mangled condition he's in… so you'll be here tonight." He started for the door but stopped, turning back to him again. "Peter gets… nightmares, some nights. If he comes to you, try to comfort him. My room is further than this one, so I expect you to at least try and calm him down." He gave Francis a long look before leaving him alone to change. The small room was almost exactly the same as Peter's, save for the lack of toys. It was completely mirrored; were the wall behind him translucent, he would be able to look over the back of his bed and see Peter sleeping there. He dug in one of his pockets and pulled out a little treasure of his; it was a bronze pocket watch and, resting inside, a little sketch of Arthur he'd had made from a time he had seen his spouse smile for him. He felt it to his heart and let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Oh, mon ange, please heal quickly so that I might see you again in the morning…" he whispered, flopping into bed and letting his shoes fall off beside it.

…

Allistor hesitated outside of Francis's door, listening for a moment before starting off down the hall again. It was strange, he didn't at all look like someone who could have destroyed their home, and he was just too nice to seem like he could hurt anyone, save for possibly himself. He slowed a little when he saw the doctor outside of one room, packing up his things. The little man spared him no more than a glance.

"You can go in and see her. She's just waking up and I'm sure she'll have a lot of questions…"

"And what of her injuries?" he asked, frowning. "My… sister, she's going to be alright, isn't she?" the doctor stopped, looking as if the question had sobered him.

"She has broken ribs, minor frostbite, and her back is hurt badly… I would suggest you not let her walk for at least a few days. As for the child… well, perhaps you should ask her. I'm no woman, I wouldn't know about such things… only time will tell." he picked up his bag and started to leave. The Green prince watched him go before carefully opening the door, trying not to make too much noise. The room was a bit larger than Francis's but plainer, cleaner looking. The walls had all been whitewashed, and the only blemish of color was the blonde mop of hair resting on his "sister's" head. He approached the bedside and took a seat in what he assumed had been the doctor's chair, brushing hair away from his brother's face as gently as he could until he felt him stir. He retracted his hand, leaned in hopefully, and watched the little green orbs flick open. They blinked a few times, wandered over the ceiling, and finally landed on him. Arthur's lips curled into a weak smile.

"Alli…" he murmured. He started to pull himself into a sitting position, and despite the sharp pain trying to pull him back down he opened his arms for his brother. Allistor chuckled, moving forward and wrapping his own arms around Arthur. "Th-they said… I might not see you… u-until morning…" he mumbled.

"Ridiculous, I couldn't leave you waiting that long. Even if I had to sneak in here it would have been worth it to make sure you were alright…" he forced a little chuckle in hopes of hiding the fact that he was really near tears. "Y-you know, we were all worried about you. Alfred thinks th-that he made you want to kill yourself or something…" he laughed genuinely this time but Arthur just rolled his eyes.

"I did no such thing…" he muttered, moving to lay back down. "I just didn't want to be kidnapped by him, y-you can hardly blame me… I-I, um, I know you might disapprove, but… I-I've actually come to enjoy being married to Francis. R-really, he's not so bad …" he eyed his eldest brother carefully, watching his happiness ebb away.

"I see…" he replied quietly, stiffening. "Well… I'm glad that you enjoy the company of the ones who destroyed us." Arthur winced. He had hoped that he wouldn't run into and of Allistor's rage on this little trip, at least not when it came to Francis.

"H-he's actually quite nice-"

"Nice?" Allistor repeated, standing over him. "Yeah, I could see that he was nice, even Peter could tell me that. I'm sure he was being really nice when he put that in you." He gestured at Arthur's swollen stomach as if he were ready to slap it but stopped, noting the fear in his brother's eyes. He took a breath and sighed. "You… need your rest…I'll be back in the morning." He grumbled, his teeth gritted together. He started for the door, ignoring Arthur's soft protests. If he stayed much longer he would just end up exploding at him, and if his brother needed anything it would most certainly be the opposite of that. Allistor slammed the door behind him. The sound echoed throughout the castle, jolting Alfred from his worries about Alice and Peter from his inevitable nightmares. The boy was in near tears, fragments of memories flashing through his head of the destruction of his home, or times in captivity, or having to leave Arthur. He climbed out of bed, clutching his stuffed rabbit to his chest and creeping out of his room. His first thought was to go find one of his brothers but, remembering the man next door he tried his room first. The door was unlocked and Francis was laying fast asleep, his arms empty with the place Arthur usually filled. Peter sniffled and approached the bed, looked the man over, and climbed in next to him. Francis was slowly roused from his sleep by the movement next to him. At first he thought it was just Arthur like it usually was and he pulled him closer, pecking a little kiss to his hair. Peter smiled a little, snuggling closer and giving Francis an oh-so-innocent peck on the chin. The man's eyes snapped open and he looked down, confused for a moment as to why Arthur was so small when he remembered what Allistor had said.

"Bad dream…?" he mumbled. Peter nodded, shutting his eyes and pulling up Francis's blankets. Francis just chuckled and tucked Peter in, wrapping an arm around him. "It's okay, you're always welcome to come to me. I've had my share of nightmares…" When Peter said nothing in reply he let his eyes slip shut, taking his own turn to have a nightmare.

…

Francis frowned to himself, loading the last of his things onto the carriage that had been sent for him. For a moment his gaze happened to flick towards one of the large castle doors and he saw a mop of pale, stringy blonde hair dart in. He blinked, stared, then gave a little sigh, approaching the door.

"It's alright to say goodbye you know…" he said softly. A few moments of silence passed before it appeared again, followed by a pair of brilliant green eyes.

"I don't want this to be goodbye…" came the soft voice, followed by a small coughing fit. Francis frowned, going to their side and wrapping an arm around their shoulders.

"Mon ange, you know it's not really goodbye, not forever…" he took their hands in his own, holding them to his lips. Their eyes darted away as he did so. Francis sighed, gently setting his hands back down. "It will only be a little while, not much longer than our visit… and you'll be all healed up too. It's dangerous enough for you to travel in your condition, but with the injuries…" he stopped, noticing that the blonde looked about to cry. "And if you want, I'll write you every day." He brushed their tears away, watching them return their gaze to him.

"E-every day…?" they repeated, sounding hopeful. Francis laughed a little and nodded, pecking a kiss to their cheek.

"Every single day. Just don't forget to write me back, alright?" he smoothed their hair back, earning a darling little smile and a hug around the neck.

"Y-you'd better not forget about me…" they whispered.

"Ne sois pas stupide, I could never forget my own wife…" his hand wandered from their waist to a round, firm place in their stomach. "And I certainly couldn't forget this little thing." He straightened up, giving the blond one last little peck on the lips before heading back to the carriage. "I promise, there's not a thing in the world that could make me stop wanting to see you!" he called, taking his seat in the carriage and snapping a finger for the driver to start. Through the window of the carriage door he watched his beloved slowly disappear, letting the curtains fall back just in time to miss the other by their side.

…

Francis sighed, tapping his pen against his desk. The moon was just starting to appear in his window, although it was partially covered by heavy clouds. Surely it would snow tonight. He was grateful for the crackling fire in his room keeping his ink from freezing. He dipped his pen, hesitated a moment, and then started to write;

Dearest Alice,

I wonder if it has been too long since we have seen each other. I swear I barely remember your face from the day we parted barely three years ago now. Every day I wonder if I'll come home to see you waiting for me. I'm so eager to meet our petite dame. Mother asks about you, father tells me I'll have to marry again if you don't return soon. I've made up my mind to come visit you in a week, although I wonder if you'll even get this letter. If you do I beg that you reply, if for nothing else then to tell me that you still care to think of me.

Francis.

He sighed, blowing on the ink to make it dry faster. In the three years he had been writing to his spouse he had never once gotten a reply. He knew nothing of what had become of him, or their child. He could only assume that in three years his injuries would have healed but he wouldn't know. As he had said he would be visiting, regardless of whether or not the letter reached the Blue castle. His things were packed, and there weren't any major storms foreseen for the rest of the winter season- a blessing if he'd ever had one. He folded the letter neatly by thirds, tucked it into an envelope, and pressed his seal to it. It was simple, although he'd had it made special; an intricate rose with a clover sitting in its middle. He held it to his window again to help the wax cool. On clear nights- unlike tonight- he could see right across the rooftops, even mountains, and with proper binoculars held just so he could see all the way to the pennants hanging from the Blue castle. The clouds reached all the way to the mountains tonight though, blocking his view of even the city gate. He eased back in his desk chair and ran a hand through his wavy hair. He had stopped brushing it so much since he never saw Arthur anymore. It wasn't as if he was trying to impress anyone, and his father didn't really care as long as he kept it no longer than to his jaw. It no longer brushed against his shoulders the way he had once loved, it barely caught the wind or the sunlight, but he didn't care. He stood from his chair and flopped into bed, placing the envelope on a little table by his door.

"What's the point of looking nice if no one you like is going to see you…?" he muttered, rolling onto his side and pulling a pillow into his arms the way he had once done with Arthur.

…

Francis had to hold his hat to his head as he climbed down from his carriage. There was no storm, thank goodness, but the wind had picked up during his trip. For the first time in what felt like eons he stared up at the towers and turrets of the Blue castle. It hadn't changed a bit in the three years since he'd seen it last. Slowly he proceeded to the door, raising a hand to knock but retracting it quickly when the door opened on its own. Inside stood a pretty young woman. Her hair just barely touched her shoulders. She looked not much younger than himself, possibly a year, although he could tell that this wasn't the case. Whatever she did at the castle must have kept her busy as the dark circles around her eyes made her look older.

"Excuse me, miss, do you know where I might find mon Alice?" he asked. The woman's eyes fixed on him and he stared, his small smile disappearing at the sight of the brilliant green orbs before him. They were both silent for a while, simply taking each other in and what the years had done to them. Francis's gaze slowly drifted downward, catching a little gleam of green on her finger that matched her eyes near perfectly; The wedding ring. Francis felt like his insides were swelling up with happiness at the sight of it. He pulled her into his arms, laughing and nearly crying with joy. "I-it's been far too long, mon amour…" he whispered. The blonde in his arms did nothing, just trying to process what was happening, before gently pushing him off.

"I-I'm sorry, I… didn't know we were expecting a visitor." She murmured. Francis looked her over again, stepping inside.

"You remember me though, don't you Alice? Or… Arthur?" he asked, The different name seemed to snap her from her daze.

"Now there's a name I haven't heard in ages…" she murmured. "Arthur… nobody has called me that in years… a-and they aren't supposed to." With a last glance at Francis she turned and started to walk away. Francis ran after her. He had no intention of letting his wife-husband?- leave him all over again.

"Ar—erm, Alice, surely you remember me? I'm Francis, your husband, your love…" he walked alongside her. "And you aren't Alice, you're Arthur. Arthur! You should know, it's your name."

"Is it?" she asked. Francis blinked, not expecting a response. "I haven't been called it in so long that I've began to wonder if it was ever really my name… I don't get much time to think about such things though, not anymore. I have much more important things to think of." Francis slowed but Alice continued, leaving him in the hall until he continued to run after her.

"W-wait!" he shouted. "What could be more important than this? It's your life, your past, your everything. What could be more important than that?" He only stopped shouting because, at that moment, his foot caught on something and he fell. Alice didn't wait up for him, continuing into a room with little animals carved into the door. Francis rubbed his head where it had hit the stone floor and scowled, glancing back to see what he'd hit. Strangely enough it appeared to be a toy of sorts that had also gotten stuck somehow, a little wagon carved from some sort of wood. He picked it up, glancing around. The door Alice had gone through immediately caught his eye. He pushed it open quietly, glancing around the room. Toys of every kind littered the floor, as well as books and dress-up clothes. Alice stood at one side of the room, walking up and down it and seeming to watch over something. When she noticed Francis she frowned and pressed a finger to her lips, a silent 'be quiet', followed by a little wave for him to join her. He hesitated but stepped forward to see what she was talking about. Alone the wall three cribs were situated, each one a different pastel color. A small child lay in each one, cuddling with one of a few stuffed animals or dolls and tucked in. Francis stared, raising a hand to cover his gaping mouth.

"Ah, A-Alice, which one—"

"None of them." She cut him off. He shot her a look of incredulity but she did nothing, saying it as simply as she would tell him that his tea was ready. "Yours died the night it was born. She was a scrawny little thing… I-it's funny really, I remember thinking that it may have been my fault, but now I don't remember why…" she trailed off. His face fell. It was like having to leave her all over again. He reached for her hand but she pulled it away. "Don't you worry about it… It's not as if I can go back with you now though, I…I can't leave them, I'm all they have…" she went to one of the cribs and stroked the hair of the child inside, presumably the oldest. Francis wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"W-we could take them with us… th-the nursery is still there, we-"

"You don't understand." She looked up at him coldly. "I'm not going back with you Francis. I never wanted any of that, to be trapped with you for the rest of my life. There wasn't a moment I was there that I didn't wish I could be in my own home, and you took that away from me." She swatted his hand away. "This is the closest thing I have to home now, and nothing you say could make me want to leave it." Francis just stared, tears trickling from his eyes. He took a few small steps away.

"A-Arthur…" he whispered, opening his arms again. She just turned away again.

"If your mission today was to make me come back to you… well, consider yourself a failure." She walked to the window, only glancing back at him to shoot him a burning glare. "And I hope no other woman had the displeasure or bad taste to be bound to you for the rest of their lives…" She folded her hands behind her back, staring down at the icy courtyard. Francis just stood, watching her, occasionally glancing down at her children. Alfred's children. He left the room silently, sinking to the floor and crying into his balled fists.

…

Francis awoke with tears rolling down his cheeks. Although he'd slept for hours and the sunlight was now streaming in and across his face he was exhausted. A slight shifting at his side drew his attention, hoping to find Arthur laying there next to him but, not so disappointingly, it was only little Peter. But Arthur… he had to go see Arthur. He glanced down at himself; the clothes he'd worn to town yesterday were apparently the ones he'd slept in as well. He carefully climbed out of bed as not to wake the boy, tucking him in again. The sun had only barely risen, it was surely long before the time he woke up. Francis tried to shut the door behind him as silently as he could, walking down the hall a little ways and reaching the loft over a little sitting room before realizing that he had no knowledge whatsoever of the castle's layout. He ended up wandering for quite a while, trying to find a door that looked like it could have been Arthur's. It was an interesting little journey, as he got to watch and listen to the castle slowly waking up; a few young men or women came around and doused the candles in the hallways, the scent of baking bread and cooking meat wafted from one corridor, a soft murmur of voices rose around as the servants started to wake up and go about their day's tasks. He swore that they must have mistaken him for one of them although they never said anything. They didn't seem to know of his or Arthur's arrival either, something he learned after asking a few of them if they knew where 'Alice's' bedroom was, to which they would reply "Who's Alice?". At one point he started to wonder if he would find the room at all, slowing by one door that looked like it was about to come off of its hinges. He peeked inside jokingly, expecting to find a small closet or something. Instead he found a room with clean, white walls and a single large window covered by pale pink drapes. The room was fairly sized for a castle, containing little more than a wardrobe, a mirror, and a bed, but it was the latter's occupant that made Francis's breath catch. A disheveled mop of straw-colored hair sat atop their head, partially covering the pair of peridot that were fixed on him. He took a few steps forward.

"Ch-cher…?" he murmured. He almost didn't recognize his beloved husband; his arms were bandaged all over, little splotched of red blossomed in some parts, although thankfully not so much on the bandaged stretched over his swollen stomach. His skin was paler than the walls that surrounded them, the only color in his shining eyes. Exhausted as he looked he managed to pull his lips into a weak little smile.

"F-Francis…" he whispered, attempting to sit up. Every nerve in his body screamed for him to just lay back down but he didn't listen, at least resting partially sat-up against a pillow. "I-I'll admit… I didn't sleep so well last night… I-I'm too used to having you next to me, a-and the pain kept me up most of the night." He sighed, his head rolling back to its position staring up at the ceiling. Francis just shook his head, only barely listening to his words. He was too focused on his appearance.

"Oh, Arthur…" Francis knelt at his bedside, his arms wrapping around him gently in a sort of wrap-hug. "W-we're all just so happy that you're alive… you look like y-you're in such pain though, I wish you hadn't jumped, m-mon amour…" he felt like he could cry. Arthur gently stroked his hair, his smile perking after a little while.

"Ah, there was one good thing th-that came from it…" he chuckled. "I-I think that our child survived this all…" at this Francis looked up, his eyes wide with hope.

"I-it's alive?" he asked, straightening up. "Y-you think our little one is alive?" Arthur gave him a little nod, taking one of Francis's hands and moving it to the bump in his belly.

"It was late last night, possibly past midnight, I'm not sure… I-I just had all of these thoughts brewing in my mind, l-like whether or not my brothers would like you, or let you stay, or how they would react to finding out that I'm like this, or if they would freak out a-and how I would explain…" his smile started to fade until Francis gave his hand an encouraging little squeeze, bringing back his thoughts and his wonderful grin. "…A-and then out of nowhere there was this sort of… jolt, f-from the baby… I-I didn't know what it was at first, i-it scared the hell out of me, but then it happened again and I figured out that it… k-kicked." He said the last word the way he would have said yes to a proposal of marriage- as if he knew what that was like- and watched as Francis's jaw dropped. He covered it with his free hand until he could turn it into a wobbly little half-smile, by which point tears of joy were running down his cheeks. He stood on his knees and hugged Arthur's stomach, pressing his lips to it.

"Mon enfant, mon cher petit enfant, tu es toujours avec nous ..." he murmured, his tears soaking Arthur's nightgown. "N-ne jamais effrayer papa comme ça…" Although he couldn't understand a word the other said Arthur could tell it was something heartfelt, starting to tear up himself, running a trembling hand through Francis's hair. Francis looked up at him, some of his happiness fading. "I… I told Peter he was going to be an uncle...He wasn't really all that excited, I don't think he quite understood...And Allistor yelled at me. He said he would kill me if you died yesterday or died to have the child, and I know he hates me somewhere inside. He just won't say it directly...But everyone except the servants and your parents know about our child...And w-well… if they kill me today, I guess this could be my last time to see you, cher." He kneaded his fingers into his swollen stomach lovingly, wondering if he really would live to see their child. At this Arthur sat bolt upright, tears leaking from his eyes.

"N-no, no, no! They can't kill you, I… I-I won't let them!" his eyes were wide with terror. "I-if they laid so much as a hand on you in ill will, I-I would never speak to them again, I swear, F-Francis, I l… l-lo…" he hesitated, then sighed. "I… I need you… I-I can't live without you…" he whispered. He looked like he was about to start sobbing. Francis noted this and sat up, feeling around for the chair the doctor had been in and sinking into it quickly, clasping one of Arthur's delicate hands between his own.

"Ch-cher, calm down, y-you're trembling…" he said sternly, stroking his hand. He had been warned by many a matronly woman during his time in Wayfall that the last thing 'Alice' would need was more stress, as anything that negatively affected her health could hurt their child as well. "I… I-I'll admit, I thought I had lost you last night. You and Alfred were so far ahead, miles ahead for all I knew, and I felt like I was going to pass out after chasing you just a little while… I thought that by the time I reached you, y-you would be dead or worse…" he shuddered, thinking back to his nightmare… b-but you're both alive, a-and okay, and I don't think th-that I could let even death could separate us now." He scooted a little closer, resting one hand on Arthur's hip. "I… I-I didn't know that you would be able to feel it… I imagine that it's exhausting, having a second little life to support in there…" he let his hand work up a little, gently kneading his swollen belly. He leaned in so that his hair and Arthur's brushed together, his own draping over Arthur's forehead a little. "If I can help it, we will stay together to the extent of our lives, and I'll see to it that all of us are happy, even Peter… which reminds me, that boy really does want to see you." He chuckled. The mention of Peter caused Arthur to perk up a little.

"Oh, Peter…" he sighed wistfully. "I can't wait to see him again… Did you get to see him yet? Was he doing alright? I've been sort of worrying that growing up in a place like this he would end up spoiled like Alfred…" he rolled his eyes. When they were young- and even not-so-young- Alfred would always bring him the most lovely gifts that only a woman of obscene vanity could appreciate, things that Arthur would accept but then leave sitting in his room in a pile on top of his dresser. Never had he gotten such luxuries anywhere, and never would he appreciate them the way Alfred did. Francis looked almost a little surprised at the idea, but he thought it best to answer Arthur's questions about his brother than to bring up the topic of Alfred again.

"Ah yes, Peter, Allistor says he's gotten si…" he trailed off. Surely this was the most inopportune time to tell Arthur of Peter's apparent and sudden illness. "Erm… h-he gets nightmares, or something. Last night he had one and he ended up coming to my room and climbing in bed with me… he is every bit as sweet a child as I remember him to be, although I fear his nightmares may have run off on me." He laughed a little, although he shuddered to try and remember what exactly had scared him so much about the whole thing. Arthur chuckled and gave Francis a little smile.

"Well, thank you then…" he leaned forward just a tiny bit, allowing Francis to make up the difference by moving closer himself and allowing himself to be pecked on the cheek. Before he could say anything, however, a muffled wailing was heard from far away.

"Oh, that…. That must be him…" Francis cringed. Arthur glanced at the door, making a face like he didn't believe what he was hearing. He'd forgotten what it was like to hear someone's tears other than his own.

"C-can you go get him and bring him here?" he asked, frowning. "I mean, I would do it myself, but…" he glanced down at his various injuries. Francis just gave a nod of understanding and returned his kiss with a quick smooch on the lip.

"Yes, of course." He replied, dashing from the room and leaving a slightly flustered Arthur behind.

...

Well, happy end of summer everyone. I'll try and get back to my usual posting schedule of at least a chapter a week, although considering that this is being posted on Sunday and not Thursday this is the chapter for this week. I'm starting at a new school, I need time to figure shit out.