Lost. Chapter 20.
A/N: Omg! 20 chapters! I'm so happy! So what's up dawg? Oh, sorry this is up so late. I hadn't written the other chapter and I was waiting for more reviews. Only four for the last chapter on FF. : (
Disclaimer: Hikari does not own or claim to own Hetalia or the song below. (Sorry this song doesn't really fit the chapter but I really wanted to put a Black Veil Brides song in here. They're a great screamo band if you haven't heard them and the guys are cross dressers.)
GO!
Awake at night you focus,
On everyone who's hurt you.
Then write a list of targets,
Your violent lack of virtue.
LEAVE US ALONE!
YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN!
GO!
We are breathing,
While you're sleeping, go, (GO!)
And leave us alone.
The lines cheated,
Our hearts beating, go, (GO!)
And now you're on your own.
Here's to your perfect weapon,
Crack bones with blind aggression.
Like birds whose wings are broken,
You live without direction.
LEAVE US ALONE!
YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN!
We are breathing,
While you're sleeping, go, (GO!)
And leave us alone.
The lines cheated,
Our hearts beating, go, (GO!)
And now you're on your own.
GO!
GO!
GO!
GO!
AND NOW YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN!
GO!
GO!
AND LEAVE US ALONE!
We are breathing,
While you're sleeping, go, (GO!)
And leave us alone.
The lines cheated,
Our hearts beating, go, (GO!)
And now you're on your own.
Lyrics to Perfect Weapon by Black Veil Brides
France's POV
The hospital did not help Francis' condition. Since Francis' body was reacting to the destruction on his capital the only that could make his condition improve was the improvement and rebuild of his city.
One of his fellow countries (though Francis didn't know who or how) had succeeded on getting him out of the hospital. A nurse came into the room to help him out of the bed and into his normal clothes.
Francis would have been ashamed of himself for not trying to flirt with the young female nurse or try to get a lay out of her right on the hospital bed but he found that he could hardly think about something like that when Arthur was in danger. He feared that Arthur would get hurt or die and he'd end up like Arthur was; lonely, depressed and a shell of his former self.
He feared for Arthur. Even though he had made a tremendous step into his recovery he still had a long way to go.
He was willing to wait until Arthur was ready before they started seeing each other, if Arthur even wanted to. Francis was getting too hopeful thinking he could finally have the Brit he had loved for so long.
He had to constantly remind himself that Arthur might not want him or might find something else. Francis didn't want to get his heart broken but he couldn't ignore what his heart was screaming at him though his brain told him something entirely different.
Francis was eagerly awaiting Arthur's wait and was hoping Arthur was eager to see him. It was foolish in his eyes. Childish.
He had been in many relationships before but he viewed all of them as objects or toys to have fun with. Arthur had been the first person he viewed as a person whom he could love more then just sex. He didn't want to do that with Arthur. He wanted to know what it was like to be loved not just because of how he was in bed.
He sighed. He had better things to think of. His country was in shambles and his people were dying. Italy was still harboring his not so discrete murderous feelings. He didn't have time to worry about love or his personal life. He had a duty to his country to take care of.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the open door. Francis turned his head as did the nurse that Francis had forgotten was there even though she had a shapely figure with luscious breasts.
Another nurse stood in the door though not as shapely. "Francis Bonnefoy?"
Francis just nodded. The nurse at the door motioned to someone in the hallway, "He's still in here." she said quietly. She and the nurse in the room left as Arthur entered.
Right away, Francis could tell something was wrong. Arthur hurried into the room and hugged him while being cautious of the Frenchman's wounds. This action scared Francis. The Brit never hugged. Never.
"What's wrong, Arthur?" Francis asked. Though his own fears of something happening to Arthur were soothed, his fear for the others rose. Arthur pulled back allowing Francis to quickly scan him for any injuries or indication to what was wrong.
The Brits clothing was rumpled and his hair tussled but there was no wounds that Francis could see. His facial expression was bashful and reminded Francis of when Ivan threw cats out his window (*historical reference*).
"Romano's fighting with Feliciano." Arthur said. Francis immediately thought of Antonio. He wondered how he felt about Romano's betrayal. "And Ivan beat him up! Feliciano had to interlope or Ivan would have killed him!"
Francis was slightly hopeful. Feliciano still cared about his brother. Maybe that could use that to their advantage. He smiled and looked at Arthur's face.
"That's great!" he smiled. Arthur looked up at him, tears shining in the corners of his emerald pools.
"No it's not!" Arthur whispered. Francis gently brushed his hair.
"What are you talking about Angleterre? He still cares about Romano. Maybe we won't have to kill him." Francis said gently.
"But I want him dead!" Arthur burst out, surprising them both. "Why should he save Romano from death when he killed my Alfred? I want him to pay for hurting Alfred and you!"
Francis felt only but compassion. "Arthur, Alfred wouldn't want that. He would say that heroes don't want other people to die." Francis said.
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "No! He would say heroes kill the bad guy to prevent others from being hurt!" he snapped. Francis gently touched his arm.
"Arthur, I'm not trying to soil your memory of Alfred or anything. It's just that Feliciano is my brother and I don't want him getting hurt." Francis said gently. Arthur's face depicted the mixed emotions he was battling.
"I'm sorry! I-I never thought of how you would still be attached to him." Arthur said. He took a deep breath, showing his conflicting emotions. "I'm sorry but I still want him to die. He will pay for what he did to you and Alfred."
The way he said that with such confidence scared Francis. What was Arthur becoming?
"Arthur, does he really deserve death? He hasn't committed nearly the amount of atrocities that Germany did in WWII. We got Ludwig back even though he was pretty crazy then. Shouldn't we give Feli that chance too?" Francis said ever so softly. He didn't want to offend the Brit in any way.
"No. Ludwig never actually killed a representation of a country. This is nearly unspeakable for our kind and for that, he must die!" Arthur said, his tone getting angrier. His body was tense and his face red. Francis gently rubbed the tops of his arms in a soothing manor.
"Arthur, I understand." Francis said in a whisper. He could easily feel Arthur relax under his touch. "Just please don't take my brother from me."
With that final blow, Arthur stiffened again. Francis had said the last phrase with such sadness that Arthur didn't know what to do. His head tipped down, his golden hair casting shadows over his face.
Francis searched for any holes to see a hint at his facial expression. He was so confused as to what the Brit was doing. One minute he was strong and confident when he was nearly crying the next. Francis started rubbing his arms a little more vigorously.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Francis asked concerned. Arthur's shoulders shook slightly.
"I'm sorry." he whispered. It was so quiet that Francis hardly heard him.
"Amor, there's nothing to apologize for." Francis said softly.
"Yes there is! I'm such a monster for wanting to kill him! How could I think such a horrible thing and let such a horrible thing happen?" Arthur cried out.
Francis' was completely confused now, "Let what happen?" He extended a hand to gently brush Arthur's hair so he could see his face but Arthur flinched away from him. Francis drew his hand back, trying not to let Arthur's motion sting him.
"They're going to kill Feliciano!" Arthur exclaimed with pure confidence. There was no doubt in the Brits voice that it wasn't going to happen. Francis' frail heart beat against his chest.
"W-what?" he chocked out. "How do you know?" His throat constricted making it hard and painful to speak.
"I'm sorry Francis. I supported them in killing him. I don't think they'll change their mind. Even Ludwig couldn't make them change their mind." Arthur said.
Francis felt the little strength in his knees slowly ebb away. He half sat, half fell down on the bed.
"Francis?" Arthur exclaimed. He rushed to the Frenchman's side. Francis had covered his face with his hands. He pulled himself away from the real world, hiding himself in the safe spaces of his mind. He couldn't hear Arthur's voice or feel the gentle touch of his hand on his shoulder.
"My little Feli!" he whispered. He remembered all the times Feliciano had come to visit him and all the meetings. He was always so sweet and considerate of others. How could they think of killing him?
Arthur pulled the Frenchman into a hug. "Oh Francis," he said in a whisper. "I'm sorry."
Hidden in the deep recesses of his mind, Francis could tell he wasn't helping Arthur's fragile condition.
Francis gently wrapped his arms around Arthur's form. Arthur's tense muscles relaxed under Francis' comforting touch.
Both rested their head on the others shoulders. Their warm breath gently tickled the others skin. They both shared a feeling of loss and their growing yet fragile bonds felt stronger. Both were comforted by each others presence, knowing they weren't alone and that they had someone else to cry on.
"It's not your fault Angleterre; I don't blame you." Francis whispered into his ear, causing Arthur to shiver.
"You don't?" Arthur asked in disbelief.
"If I was in your position I would want the same thing. I just wish it wasn't Feli." Francis said quietly.
"I know you do. I'm so sorry." Arthur said softly. A gentle hand reached up to gently pet Francis' hair. The Frenchman closed his eyes, all his fears and sadness being soothed by his simple touch. He allowed himself to enjoy the bliss, knowing it would disappear as soon as Arthur wasn't touching him.
After a while Francis pulled away. "Amor, why don't we go now?" he suggested. He felt colder without Arthur's warm hold. He felt as though Arthur had taken a part of him when their hug ended. He wanted to hold the Brit and never let go.
A light blush dusted Arthur's cheeks. Francis was comforted by the action glad that Arthur was slowly recovering.
"Yeah. I bet you're tired of being here." Arthur said.
Francis just nodded. Arthur slipped his arm under Francis' and helped take some weight off of the Frenchman's weak legs. Francis' smiled appreciatively and followed the Brit to the parking lot where a car was waiting.
In one car held Gilbert, Roderick, Elizabetha, Ludwig and Antonio. The other car concealed Ivan, Yao, Kiku, Mei and Matthew. The car was large enough to carry both Arthur and Francis. They got inside the car and buckled their seatbelts.
"Hello Francis, aru!" Yao greeted him upon entering the car.
"I expect you are feeling better, da?" Ivan asked. The massive Russian was driving the car. He glanced back in the mirror, smiling sweetly. Francis easily smiled. The Brits hand was lightly touching his making him happy.
"Oui, I am. Merci." Francis said.
Ivan giggled. "Why are you begging for mercy already? I didn't even bring out my pipe yet~." he said. Yao, sitting in the passenger seat, looked uncomfortable.
"Yet, aru?" he squeaked.
Ivan just closed his eyes and smiled, "Ufu!" he giggled.
Yao scooted away. Ivan frowned almost playfully and looked at him. "What is wrong, Yao? You know I'd never hurt you."
Yao just laughed uneasily, obviously hoping he'd please Ivan. With Alfred gone, Ivan was the strongest nation and would be their best ally along with China, considering his population.
Francis nearly jumped out of his skin when Arthur leaned his head on Francis' shoulder. His eyes dropped until they were half closed. A gentle smile graced Francis' features. His heart thumped pleasantly against his rib cage, temporarily relieving him of his almost constant chest pain.
He moved his arm and gently draped it around the Brits shoulders and pulled him closer.
"Go ahead and sleep, Angleterre. I'll wake you up when we get there." Francis whispered softly. His breath moved a few golden strands of hair causing the Brit to blush.
Being as tired as he was, Arthur's emerald eyes closed. His breathing deepened signaling his sleep.
All other conversations drowned out into silence. All other background noises and distractions melted away until it was just Arthur and Francis. Francis allowed a gentle smile. With Arthur in his arms and leaning on him, everything in his chest felt whole. He had found the feeling he had been longing and searching for.
Somehow though, something didn't feel right. In normal circumstances, Arthur wouldn't cuddle him like this in public. He wouldn't have trusted Francis enough to fall asleep. Perhaps though Arthur had changed because of Alfred's death, causing him to show more emotion. Either way, Francis liked the new Arthur. He enjoyed cuddling him and being trusted and needed by him.
He gently kissed the top of Arthur's golden haired head and leaned his cheek into his soft locks. His familiar scent wreathed around him, completing his feeling of peace.
His whole country could have been obliterated and he would have been content if his last moments had been spend with Arthur in his arms.
A/N: More action starting up real soon! Please review! I know at least 49 people are getting alerts for this so I'd love if you'd drop me a review! You don't even have to log in. Just click the button and write at least one word like yes or no for if you like the story. Thankies!