Chapter 7 – They Decide
"H- He left?" Feliciano stared at Gilbert, who nodded tersely.
"He went after Arthur. There's no point in going after him; this is something he obviously feels he needs to do on his own." Alfred answered, and sighed, looking over his shoulder. "It was quite a blow on Ludwig, though…"
The gathered group looked into the living room. Ludwig was sat on the sofa, resting his forehead in one hand.
"Ludwig-kun… probably feels responsible for us…" Kiku said slowly. Yao nodded in agreement.
"I can't believe Arthur left, aru…" He said. "What'll we do now?" The other's knew what he meant; now that Arthur was gone, how would they quietly slip into houses, without attracting the attention of the undead?
"I suppose we'll just have to keep moving, da?" Russia said. "Ludwig and Gilbert hotwired a car for us, so if we take turns driving, we should be able to reach the sea and catch a boat within a day…"
"V- Ve!" They turned to look at Feliciano, who looked slightly tearful. "We can't leave Francis and Arthur alone here!"
Alfred snorted.
"They left us, Feli. None of us like it any more then you do, but we can't protect everyone." Feliciano shook his head.
"N- no!" He said, his voice quivering. "They're our friends! I- If it wasn't for them, then I would be dead! And- and they're smart, and even Arthur is nice, when he stops being scary!" Alfred sighed, and looked away.
"I'm sorry, Feli. I agree with Ludwig; it's too dangerous."
"I thought you were a hero!" Alfred's head shot around, and he stared incredulously at Feliciano, who was now shaking, angry tears slipping down his face. "You- you're always saying that you're a hero, and you have to look after the rest of us! If you're a real hero, you would go after them! B- because when I was in trouble, you all came for me!"
"Feli…" The others stared at the sobbing Italian. Matthew looked warily at Alfred; his eyes were hidden behind his fringe.
"A real… hero?" Alfred asked quietly, and Feliciano stopped sobbing abruptly, looking up at the American fearfully.
"A- ah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" He started. Alfred looked up, and grinned.
"Let's go then." He said, and Feliciano stared quietly at the blonde. After a few seconds he smiled, and nodded.
"Yeah!" Yao shrugged.
"I guess it can't be helped, aru. And maybe Arthur has a point; we've been offered a chance, and we have to take it aru."
"I agree with Alfred-kun." Kiku stated. Gilbert rolled his eyes playfully.
"Make your own decisions, Kiku." He grinned at Alfred. "But hell, it sounds like fun. I'm in." Russia giggled his agreement, and Gilbert looked at Matthew, who smiled timidly.
"Well, I suppose you've all made your minds up." Feliciano turned. Ludwig was standing in the door behind him, looking as stern as ever. The tall blonde sighed.
"Do you realise how stupid and dangerous this is?" He asked tiredly. The other men looked at each other uncertainly. The last thing they wanted to do was force Ludwig to do anything, but at the same time, they couldn't just leave him alone to fend for himself.
"Well?" Ludwig asked, and Feliciano looked down.
"V- Ve… so-"
"Are you coming or what?" Feli looked up, and beamed at Ludwig's small smile.
"Si!"
Francis groaned as he leant against the wall of a nearby house, clutching his throbbing shoulder. Shakily he grabbed the ends of the bandage that covered the bite, tightening them with one hand.
"Merde…" He whispered, sinking down against the wall. He'd been running for the better part of half an hour, but still hadn't caught up with Arthur. Groping at his neck, he pulled out a necklace from his shirt. It wasn't anything particularly special looking – half of a rusted locket which might have been beautiful once upon a time – but it was still the most important thing he had ever owned…
"Arthur! There you are!" Arthur looked away from the river he was sitting above, and scowled.
"Francis, what are you doing here?" The fifteen year old beamed at his younger friend, and, after kicking off his shoes and socks, scrambled quickly up the tree Arthur was sitting in, balanced above the river on a large branch that hung out across it.
"I just got back from my first day of college!" Francis proclaimed, scooting along the branch. Arthur frowned.
"O- oh yeah…" He said quietly. "I forgot you were starting today…" Francis pouted.
"That's mean." He said. The two teens sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking to themselves. Francis ran the words through his head, examining them, before his eyes widened.
"Oh!" He proclaimed. "Of course!" He scrambled closed to Arthur, who stared at him as if he was an idiot.
"What are you doing?" He asked, and leant back when Francis shoved his face towards the twelve year old.
"Arthur… will you miss me?" Arthur blushed, and tried to move away.
"I- Idiot, wh- what could possibly bring you to believe that?" He snapped, dragging himself backwards on the branch. Francis cooed, wrapping his arms around Arthur tightly.
"Aw, you will!" He said, smiling. "This makes me so happy, Arthur!" Arthur flailed in Francis' arms, knocking the two off balance and sending them tumbling off of the branch into the river below.
Arthur surfaced, spluttering as the cold water knocked his breath out of his lungs.
"T- Twat!" He gasped as his feet scrabbled for surface on the river floor. The water wasn't very deep; there was enough to swim in, but thankfully shallow enough to stand up. Next to him, Francis came up, coughing and laughing. Arthur scowled when he noticed that, while Arthur had to stand on the tips of his toes to keep his mouth above water, the water level only came up to Francis' chest.
"When the hell did you get so much taller than me?" Arthur asked grumpily, wading towards the banks. Francis smiled.
"When I hit puberty. Don't worry; you'll catch up in a few years." He started to follow Arthur, and yelped. The English boy, who had climbed up onto land, looked over his shoulder.
"What's wrong?" He asked, his brows furrowing. Francis wobbled in the water.
"Something's digging into my foot…" He said, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. Arthur rolled his eyes, before slipping back in and making his way towards Francis.
"Here." He grumbled. "Put your arm around my shoulders…" Francis complied, letting Arthur half drag, half support him back to the bank. Once on land, Arthur looked at the bottom of Francis' foot, and winced.
"Bloody hell…"He muttered. "I've told you before not to take your shoes off out here, haven't I?" He chided. Francis pouted.
"But I like how the tree bark feels on my feet…" He mumbled. Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Whatever. Brace yourself; this will hurt a little." He hooked his finger around the metal that had embedded itself into Francis' foot and tugged. Francis swore loudly as it came out.
"M- Merde…" He whimpered. "A little? Arthur, it felt like you were cutting my foot open all over again!" Arthur snorted.
"Stop being a baby. I'm going to clean it now; there could be any sort of bacteria in the river." He reached into his pocket, pulling out some antiseptic wipes. Francis raised an eyebrow at him.
"Why do you have those?" He asked warily. Arthur shrugged.
"I was playing Rugby with my brothers today; these were left over after I cleaned up Aled." He opened up the wipes, before carefully pressing one against the gash. Francis hissed, his leg jerking, colliding with Arthur's nose.
"Watch it!" The green-eyed boy snapped, holding his nose with one hand. Francis laughed sheepishly.
Arthur picked up the object he'd taken out of Francis' foot, tossing it to the older blonde.
"Here; look at this while I'm cleaning you up." He growled. Francis caught it with fumbling hands, scowling at the blood which smeared off of it onto his hands. He leant forward and swiped a wipe from Arthur, who merely grunted at him as he returned his attention back to his friend's foot.
Amidst pained gasps and annoyed hisses, Arthur and Francis cleaned their respective, blood soaked objects. Francis beamed once he finished cleaning the metal before grinding his teeth as Arthur finished cleaning his foot.
"There you go." Arthur muttered. "It's still bleeding quite a bit, so you'll probably have to leave your shoe and sock off for a while so they don't stick…"
"Merci, Arthur." Francis chirped. Arthur blushed, looking away.
"I- it's nothin'." He muttered. Francis smiled gently, before looking down at the object in his hands again. Arthur leaned forward to look at it.
"Is that a locket?" He asked, and Francis hummed. It was heart shaped, and the front was littered with tiny grooves, either part of its original design, or the results of god only knew how long in the river.
"It looks pretty old." Arthur commented, standing up. Francis nodded, stumbling to his own feet, before balancing on his uninjured foot. Arthur snorted.
"Let's head back." He said, looking around for Francis' shoes. He found them at the base of the tree, and picked them up, taking them back to Francis.
"Only put one of them on." He reminded. "I'll help you walk the rest of the way back."
Francis hummed distractedly, taking the shoes and socks and hopping his way over to a log, sitting on it while he slipped his shoe on. Arthur waited impatiently, leaning against a tree, and straightened when Francis looked up at him.
"You ready?" The English boy asked gruffly, and Francis nodded, smiling as Arthur bent over to help him stand.
"You're rather responsible Arthur, oui?" He said, laughing, and Arthur grunted.
"I've got four older brothers." He pointed out. "At least one of us has to know what we're doing…" Francis chuckled, and spent the rest of the journey up the river and down the street in silence, save for the two boy's uncoordinated footsteps and the steady drip of water slipping out of their clothes and hair.
Francis smiled gratefully when they reached his house
"Merci, mon petit Lapin…" He thanked, detaching himself form Arthur's shoulder. Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly.
"It was nothing." He grumbled, and Francis laughed.
"Whatever you say."
Arthur shuffled his feet for a moment, before turning away.
"I'll see you later…" He mumbled, starting to across the neat garden towards his own house next door.
"Arthur, wait…" Francis called, fumbling with something in his hands. Arthur faced him, raising an eyebrow as Francis grinned triumphantly.
"Here." He tossed something towards Arthur, who snatched it out of the air. He frowned at it.
"The locket?" He asked dubiously. Francis smirked.
"Half of the locket." He replied. "I have the other half. Keep it with you, oui?" Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Idiot; what am I going to do with half a locket?" He asked, and Francis smiled.
"I'm never going to leave you behind, mon cher." He stated instead of answering. "no matter where you go, I'm going to follow."
Arthur blushed.
"You sound like a stalker…" He muttered to himself, before sighing. "And I guess I'll be the one who's expected to save you all the time from now on?" Francis shrugged playfully.
"I never said that, cher, but if you want to…"
"Idiot." Arthur responded, his lips twitching with a fond smile.
"He keeps on running off, oui?" Francis muttered to himself, smiling fondly. Grunting slightly, he pushed himself up off the floor, and, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, stumbled out into the road again.
Arthur sat down on the curb, and sighed. He needed directions… For all he knew, he'd been walking the wrong way ever since he left the house. He undid his satchel, rummaging in it until he founded the book he needed. The Englishman flicked through it, grunting in satisfaction when he reached the page he wanted, before roughly sketching the pattern on the road with a stone. He sliced the tip of his thumb open on his sword, and let a few drops of blood fall onto the pattern before sucking the wound.
The pattern briefly glowed, and Arthur hummed to himself.
"I need to travel further west…" He muttered to himself, storing the book in his satchel and slipping it over his head. Pushing himself to his feet, he started walking again.