Another long, horrific day.
In a large suburban neighborhood, a young man slipped out of the window of his second floor bedroom, landing neatly on the pristine layer of new fallen snow. He straightened up, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he glanced back up at the house. Gaze focusing on a different window, he caught the eye of a red headed man typing rapidly on a small laptop. His older brother stared back at him, then nodded, leaving the room and closing the window in Arthur's bedroom.
Liam could be such a git sometimes, but at least he understood when his little brother needed some help.
Crouching down to avoid being seen from the living room window, Arthur snuck to the front yard, wincing as he heard yelling from inside. They were still at it, just as they had been for the last two hours. He could easily pick out the loud, guttural growl of his father, the shrill shrieks of his mother, the shouted arguments from his brother...
He shook his head as he reached the road. No, he needn't concern himself with this fight. It was Alfred's fault anyway, he shouldn't have been so careless… Didn't he know that their parents were so easy to set off?
The boy sighed at that, beginning to set off in a seemingly random direction. Sometimes, he would recall the days when they had been a normal family… His parents, Liam, Alfred, the twins, himself…. They used to be so happy.
When had it all gone apart?
Perhaps it all began that one day, when his father and mother had a bit of a tiff, and his father had stormed out that night with bloody scratches across his cheek. The next morning, his had mother served breakfast with a black eye and the announcement that their father was gone for business for a week.
Sometimes, Arthur wished he had just stayed away.
Yes, he loved his father, and how could he not? The red headed man was so big and gentle and cheerful… He was just impossible not to love. But sometimes, Arthur just hated him and his mother both.
He shook his head at this, chastising himself for thinking that. No, he wasn't supposed to think like that. He was here to walk, to forget.
Arthur took a long, deep breath, the freezing air burning his lungs. At least it was finally quiet. No shouting to hurt his ears, to assault his senses… The only sounds were the crunch of snow beneath his feet and the rustling of the bare branches overhead. Finally, he could relax, let his guard down…
But inside of his head, thoughts were screaming louder and louder.
'How could you just leave Alfred behind like that? You need to take care of your brothers, not leave them behind like a useless coward.'
"No," Arthur muttered to himself. "It wasn't my fault. Alfred shouldn't have been such a git…"
How was it his fault that he had told their homophobic parents about his boyfriend Mathew? Of course they were going to shout at him for that…
'But you still should've helped him. You promised yourself that you would take care of them all. How does running away help them at all? You're such a spineless fool.'
Arthur didn't have an answer to that.
He merely stared down as his feet as they moved robotically under him. He just needed to keep walking, just needed to get away…
'You don't deserve them. They'd be happier if you were just gone. With one less mouth to feed, no doubt they would stop fighting.'
The memory of cooking scones with his mother rose to his mind. He could still see her laughing, shaking her long, wheat blonde hair as she saw the burnt bits of charcoal that he proudly held up to her.
'That was a long time ago. Things have changed.'
Arthur saw himself fighting with Alfred, with Liam, one of the twins, his parents…
He always tried so hard to shield his brothers from the fighting.
Every broken plate was his fault, every chore left undone was because of him, every bad grade was a result of his distraction, everything to keep his loved ones from being hurt…
'They don't need you. Your brothers will get on fine without you.'
But… He couldn't live without his brothers…
'Then maybe you don't need to live at all.'
Arthur finally stopped in his tracks.
No, this wasn't what he wanted to think of.
He had to live, right? He needed to stay, if only for the sake of his brothers… Even if they needed him less and less, they still needed him.
'Think about it, Arthur: Do you think maybe you need them more than they need you?'
No! No, that wasn't it at all!
Arthur gripped his head, fingers tangling in the roots of his hair as his mouth opened in a silent scream.
He wanted to bang his head against a wall until the voice stopped talking. He wanted to scream his uselessness and frustration to the sky until he could no longer speak. He wanted to make them all stop fighting and go back to being happy and normal and peaceful…
But he did none of these things.
He merely stood there, clutching his head as he rocked back and forth on his heels, silent as the night around him.
Never before had he hated himself so much. He shouldn't be here moping while his brother was being attacked. Alfred needed him to help.
Arthur shut his mouth, slowly lowering his hands.
He shouldn't be out. Finally, he shivered at the cold wind, turning back to the direction of his house. No, he should walk back now, before these thoughts overtook him and forced him to do something stupid…
'I'm not forcing you to do anything. I am you, after all.'
No, no it wasn't. He never used to think about death, wish for it like he did now. It wasn't a part of him.
'How do you know? Maybe you're just insane.'
Arthur began to walk, although much slower than before.
'After all, you're already weak and idiotic and unloved, so why not add insanity to the list?'
Damn it all. That voice just wouldn't shut up!
'What are you so angry about? I'm just telling you the truth. It's not my fault you're too blind to see the truth when it's right in front of you.'
He shrugged off the thought, trying to ignore it.
'I'm trying to help you. The sooner you see that no one actually needs you anymore, the sooner you can get over it. Here, let me say it slower: No. One. Needs. You.'
The boy stopped walking.
'Are you actually starting to listen to the truth? Alfred stopped needing you a long time ago. The twins stopped needing you a long time ago. Liam never needed you in the first place. You're just taking up useless space. You should just end it a-'
Suddenly, the voice he always listened so intently to sounded so far away.
Arthur looked up from his boots, glancing around at the cookie cutter houses and the snowy landscape.
Just out of the range of his hearing, he swore he heard…
Music.
But it was so late, and mostly everyone was asleep but now, so it couldn't have been real…
Maybe he was insane.
But Arthur turned, taking a step to the source, hearing the tune grow clearer.
It appeared to come from one of the dark houses, and as he stepped off the road and approached the fence blocking off the backyard, he couldn't help but notice a perfect square of light on the snow blanketed ground.
Someone was actually awake this late? It surprised him, really. And playing music with the window open… It was mid-December. Why would someone do that while it was so cold…?
He could just barely hear what sounded like a violin and a piano playing in harmony, their music twining together to form some perfect, lingering melody.
But he needed to get closer.
Arthur hesitated, hands unconsciously grasping the top of the fence. This was unbelievably stupid. What if he got caught? He would be taken to the police for snooping around on someone's property, all because he wanted to listen to some damned music. It was stupid, idiotic, reckless, dangerous…
It wasn't even like him! He would never trespass. Hell, he wouldn't even be walking around this late. He should just go back home and stop all of this nonsense. The boy took his hands off the fence, turning to walk back to the road.
'Well, it's not like anyone needs you anyway.'
He stopped in his tracks.
Damn it all.
Arthur turned on his heel and grabbed the top of the wooden barrier, easily vaulting himself over and landing with the smallest of sounds.
If it would make the hellish voice in his head shut up, he'd try anything.
So even though he knew it was stupid and reckless, he crept around the side of the large house, careful not let the snow crunch too loudly under his boots. Strange, it didn't seem as if anyone else in the house was awake…
Not counting whoever was playing the music, of course.
Arthur ducked low to avoid being seen from any of the windows, one shoulder brushing the vinyl exterior. The music… It was so clear to him now.
He paused, on his hands and knees, beneath the open window where the music poured out into the frigid air.
God…
Closing his eyes, Arthur simply stayed still and listened.
He wasn't well versed in the world of music, but any simpleton could discern that it was a violin. And a well played one at that…
The song sounded so familiar, he swore he had heard it before…
It was slow, smooth, comforting. He felt the music washing over him like the ocean's waves, pulling him out to sea…
And for once, Arthur let go.
His breath hitched with every crescendo and lingering notes. The music hung in the air, wrapped around him, soothed his frayed nerves…
All too soon, the beauty faded and he was left with only silence and cold.
'What are you doing? You are insane. Just turn around and go home.'
The Englishman frowned, shaking his head roughly.
Wait, what the hell was he doing here?
He had let himself get caught up in some damned music like a sailor to siren song! The fact was that he was on his hands and knees in some stranger's backyard listening to what was probably a recorded track in the middle of the bloody night while his brother was at home being chewed out by their emotionally abusive parents.
'Really, what kind of brother are you?'
Arthur turned to leave as the situation dawned on him, about to crawl away so he could run back home and forget all of this insane mess and protect his little brother.
'Hurry up! You're such a bloody g-'
Suddenly, the music began again, a fast, wild melody that sang to him loud and clear.
Maybe…
Maybe he could stay just a few more minutes… After all, the new song… Well, it sounded foolish, even to his own mind, but it reminded him of when he was just a little thing, running around in the woods with his fairy friends. It had been a long time since he believed in such things…
This time, the music was fast paced, wild, fantastic. A piano accompanied the beautiful notes of the violin, every note making his heart beat faster and faster.
Not for the first time, he wondered who was playing (or listening) to music this late. With the window open, no less!
Maybe it would hurt to… Just take a little peek.
Arthur waited for a moment, but the voice that normally would've perked up and told him how stupid his ideas were was silent. So there was no one to decide but himself, then…
Rising to sit up on his knees, his fingers curled just over the window ledge, and he slowly, carefully rose himself up for a peek, not knowing what in the world to expect…
His eyes widened at the sight.
A boy, perhaps only a year or two older than himself, held the violin that had captivated him from the beginning. Every time he drew the bow across the strings, the most beautiful notes poured from the instrument and danced around him.
His long, honey blonde hair fell loosely around his shoulders, barely concealing the concentrated expression on his face. There was a music stand before him, but his eyes were closed, showing that he had memorized the music long ago. Those long, angular features… The delicately pointed chin, that scruffy goatee…
Wait, it was that boy from school.
What was his name again? It was something girly and French… Frankie? Fred? Franny? No… Francis. Yes, that was it. Francis Bonnefoy.
Arthur had never seen him without expensive clothes or those two delinquent friends of his or a posse of infatuated girls. Yet here he was, dressed in a white tank top and baggy navy sweatpants, playing the most beautiful music he had ever heard.
It almost felt like a dream…
He closed his eyes, one finger tapping to the beat of the song, letting himself being carried away in the music…
He hadn't listened to many songs lately. Sure, there was a tune playing on the radio once in awhile that he would bob his head to, but they were just silly pop songs that he hardly thought about once they were over. When he was younger, his mother used to turn on their ancient cassette player, and all of them would spin around the living room to the Beatles…
Those days were long gone.
And yet… They were so close. When he closed his eyes, Arthur felt as if he could just count to five and everything would be back to normal. It would all be just a bad dream, and he would tell his brothers about it over the breakfast table and his father would joke about who would win the fight and his mother would reprimand him with a smile and smack him with a dishrag and then they'd all laugh and be happy again and Arthur would forget all about that horrible nightmare and go back to living his life...
There was a sudden tight feeling in his chest at the thought. He swallowed heavily, forehead pressing against the cold edge of the windowsill. He missed it all so much…
"Would you like to request another?"
Arthur jumped at the sudden voice, falling back into the snow with a yelp.
Too late, he realized he was spotted.
He scrambled to his feet, backing away from the window with wide eyes.
"I-I'm so sorry! I know this is your property and I know I'm trespassing it was just that I got distracted, and…" he trailed off when he fully absorbed Francis' reaction.
The boy didn't seem angry, judging by the amused smile on his face. The violin and bow dangling from his hands, he rested his elbows on the windowsill, chuckling lightly at Arthur's hasty apology.
"Non, don't worry about it." He said with a flippant wave of his hand. "I appreciate people who appreciate music."
'Great job, Sherlock. Now you can add idiotic to the growing list of faults. I'll put it right between unreliable and unloved, just to break up the monotony.'
Face flushing a deep shade of crimson, Arthur quickly began to back away, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.
"W-well , I'm sorry. I-I'll just be going now…" he stammered, glancing behind him.
"Do you have to go now? I wasn't done playing yet. Come in, make yourself comfortable." To his absolute surprise, Francis pushed the window up as far as it would go, gesturing for him to come inside.
Arthur merely stared at him, stunned.
Wait.
So even though he was trespassing in his backyard around midnight and they had never exchanged words, he was going to let him inside his home.
He knew the French were idiotic, but he didn't think they were that dumb.
"Wh-what? Wh-why the hell should I trust you! I don't even know you!" he barked, an irrational surge of anger concealing his embarrassment. Francis merely raised an eyebrow, as if inviting a stranger inside was the most normal thing to do.
"What do you mean? We go to the same school. Your brother's dating my little brother Mattie."
Arthur blinked.
He forgot, Francis was Mathew's older brother. They acted nothing like each other, and they didn't even share the same last name, so...
"Ah, y-yes, I remember." He said quickly. "But… Um…"
Honestly, he was scrambling for an excuse not to go in.
'How about molestation? That guy's a complete playboy; how do you know he's not going to take advantage of you and-'
"There's no need to worry, my parents are never home. The only one here is Mattie, and he's always shut up in his room." Francis said, interrupting his thoughts. He smiled at Arthur as if to comfort him, amusement sparkling in those bright cerulean eyes. But the Englishman swore he caught traces of a different, darker emotion in those eyes, one he knew all too well…
But it couldn't be what he thought he was.
How could a boy surrounded by girls and best friends look so lonely?
'This is stupid. You're already an idiot, but this is even dumber than you normally are. This is the dumbest thing you've ever done, and you've done plenty of stupid things. Did you forget that Alfred needs you? Your little brother? Yeah, right now, he's probably still being yelled at. Do you really want him to get hurt? God, you're a horrible excuse for an older brother.'
"Come on, I'm not going to bite you." Francis laughed at his own little joke, stretching his hand out to Arthur. "Well, not much, anyway."
The Englishman hesitated, taking in the sight before him.
Francis Bonnefoy, the most popular person in school who he had never exchanged a single word with, was offering to let him stay inside the messiest room he had ever seen and listen to music.
'You aren't really thinking about it, are you? He's probably a psycho killer. He loves to kill idiotic Brits who don't give a damn about their own family. No one will cry at your funeral. Not like they'll notice you're gone in the first place, seeing how useless and d-'
"Fine."
For the first time in his life, Arthur ignored that voice, hesitantly taking a step forward.
For once, he would be selfish.
That, and the unbelievably happy smile on the Frenchman's face made him almost feel…
Happy.
"Merci."
The Englishman merely nodded at that, scowling at the utter happiness on the other's face. God, it was as if he had just made that idiot's whole day.
"Don't let it get to your head…"
Then, he took a deep breath, the cold, crisp air burning his lungs helping to steady his nerves….
And he took the Frenchman's hand.
oOo
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There we go. It's on time for once, isn't that great! It's the next one I'm worried about, since I haven't even started writing it yet…
Eh, that's a mountain I'll cross when I get to it.
By the way, the first song Francis played was a violin cover of Music of the Night from the play Phantom of the Opera. The second song Fairytale by Alexander Rybak. They're both fabulous songs, you should really look them up.
Also, here's a cheat sheet: Liam is Scotland. The twins Arthur mentioned are Northern and Southern Ireland. And Alfred, of course, is America. I might add a Wales to the list of brothers, but I don't know… I don't even have names for the twins yet, so… If you have any suggestions, I'd be happy to hear them.
Oh, and derp… I think this is the same ending for Light and Dark. I must subconsciously like them holding hands. It's cute!
As usual, I don't own Hetalia or any copyrighted thing I might have mentioned, so please don't sue me.
Thank you for reading!