The sound of birds woke Francis up. When he opened his eyes the early morning sun filtered in through the window, which was open and let a breeze flutter the curtains. He pulled the blankets tighter around himself to ward off the chill in the room. The bed no longer dipped next to him, meaning Arthur was already up. The bedroom door opened. Speak of the devil.
"Get up Bonnefoy. We have to get moving if we want to catch our train." Arthur said as he messed with his rucksack. Likely to put away the rounds he'd come for.
Francis got up slowly and adjusted himself at look as presentable as possible. When he finally ambled downstairs Feliciano had started breakfast for himself and the brothers, who sat at the table nursing coffee.
"We'll be off. Thank you for the night I really appreciate it." Arthur said before shaking hands with everyone.
Francis sleepily made his round as well and followed Arthur out the front door. The air outside was cold and clear. Francis yawned and trailed the hunter. But instead of walking down the highway where they came, Arthur went around the far side of the shop building. Normally Francis would question the action, but he figured that by now there was no arguing with Arthur. The man always had a plan so it might just be easier to go along with it for the time being. When he returned a small scooter rolled next to him. Again, Francis said nothing. But he definitely raised an eyebrow.
"You could say we're the official test run. Feli says there's enough gas in it to get us to the station. Ludwig'll pick it up later." Arthur explained as he tinkered with some of the controls.
"Very considerate of them." Francis replied.
Arthur only shrugged. "It's the kind of people they are. It's hard to get along in this world if you don't practice what you preach."
The scooter started up with a mellow hum, its motor whirring to life. Arthur swung one leg through the space between the steering and the seat. He scooted forward and shot an expectant look towards Francis. It was too early for Francis to care much. Once situated they sped off.
Francis considered himself somewhat lucky to be riding behind Arthur at that point. The wind whipped violently around them and stung his knuckles where they met around Arthur's waist. But at least he could still feel his face. Despite the air Arthur seemed completely unaffected. What little views he got of the man's face, Francis could tell something about riding along those asphalt roads let Arthur loosen up. Compared to Arthur's usual expression of discontent, it was quite nice.
True to word by the time they reached the train station the gas gauge was almost hitting empty. Francis stepped off the machine and flexed his frozen fingers as he waited for Arthur to hide the scooter somewhere. When Arthur was satisfied and returned his face wasn't even red from the wind. He looked more ghostly than anything. Their slight hope for heat once they entered the building was soon squashed. Their train car however was comfortable. Enough so that Francis immediately went back to sleep as soon as their cabin door closed.
Arthur hadn't slept on the ride. He was used to not sleeping by now and had no problem keeping himself up. The train stopped several times for mechanical issues but none of the stops lasted more than half an hour. And by the time the train pulled back into the familiar docking platform it was almost dinnertime.
"Hey." Arthur said, voice cracking slightly with disuse. Francis didn't move. Nudging him with his foot he tried again. "Frenchie. You dead? I'm still waiting for my money I won't let you die yet."
"Only to spite you." As usual, Francis was a delight when woken.
Neither of the men registered much on the ride back to the house. Francis was still tired and Arthur only wanted to be home again. But when they finally arrived, something was off. Matthew was standing on the front porch. He didn't look panicked but he certainly wasn't happy. Francis followed cautiously as Arthur approached the porch.
"Ivan's here." Was all Matthew needed to say.
Arthur looked from his cousin to Francis and back. "Matthew take him out back for a bit. I'll take care of this."
There were no questions, and Matthew lead Francis around the house quietly. Arthur steeled himself and opened the door. Sitting at the dining room table was Ivan. His bulky form towered far above the back of the chair and his legs bent awkwardly under the table top. The dim candles cast orange light against his pale hair, but his eyes shone eerie violet, almost as if they had a light source of their own, making him look like a predator in the night. Which in most cases wasn't a far off assumption.
"So, what's the special occasion? You don't usually show up here when you need something." Arthur commented. The door closing behind him was the only sound for a few seconds.
"Well, after all, you are my favorite Arthur." Ivan smiled. The man was frankly upsetting. He never seemed to act anything other than pleasant, but Arthur knew that behind closed doors he was as much of a brute as he looked.
Arthur moved closer to the table and moved to take off his gun holster. Before he could touch it he noticed Yao in the corner of the room stepping forward. Ivan only held his hand up. The Asian man looked at him apprehensively before stepping back into place. Yao was Ivan's bodyguard, which looked about as ridiculous as it sounded. Ivan was at least six foot and could probably take down a bear. Yao was in comparison small. But then again so was Arthur and yet he was the one doing jobs for Ivan. So something had to be said for him.
The sound of wood scraping against itself echoed in the silent room as Ivan stood. Arthur continued his routine as if nothing had happened. He registered Alfred appearing in the kitchen doorway.
"I know you were probably enjoying your well deserved break, but there are more pressing matters at hand." The Russian man said as he circled the table to meet Arthur on the other side. He loomed above everything in the room but Arthur's bravery, smiling as if he had just commented on how late it had become. "A recent target has made his way into my hands and he needs to be dealt with. Sooner rather than later."
"Don't suppose I have the option to say no do I?" Arthur asked knowing the answer already.
"Hmm. Adorable as always Arthur."
"I'll set off tomorrow. What's the name and last place he was seen?" Arthur asked, moving across the room to hang his rucksack on a coat hanger.
Ivan motioned for Yao to follow him and the two moved towards the door. "Francis Bonnefoy."
Arthur froze.
"He was last expected to be in Cape Canaveral but I've heard rumors of looters. The gang working that area frequents below the border so it's very possible he may be out there too." Ivan told him.
When he got no reply, he bid Arthur a last farewell before walking out of the house. Ivan had needed no response because one hadn't been asked for. Ivan never needed to ask. A car started somewhere outside and it's engine slowly faded into the background.
That son of a bitch.
Marching to the table and grabbing a gun out of it's holster, Arthur flew out the front door. Halfway there he was met by the pair, who had most likely heard the car leave and assumed it was safe to come back in. Francis looked slightly surprised when he noticed the gun in Arthur's hand.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Arthur screamed and grabbed Francis by the collar, gun pointed nowhere specific but definitely somewhere painful.
"What are you doing? Let go of me!" Francis shouted back angrily.
"YOU ARE A WANTED MAN AND NEVER THOUGH TO TELL ME?"
Matthew stepped back away from the two in shock, but stayed close enough to watch what was happening.
Francis looked at Arthur bewildered. "What the hell are you talking about?!"
Arthur fumed. This bastard was barely worth the trouble he caused in the first place. But everything was different now that Ivan was involved. Ivan had the power to leave them homeless, penniless, and without any means to survive at at best. At worst, he could, and would, easily take everything Arthur ever loved away from him.
"Don't give me that bullshit! I swear to God I'll fucking turn you in now."
Francis look panicked. He couldn't imagine why anyone would want anything to do with him. Unless...
"Listen! It has to be whoever it was that kidnapped me I-" Francis was cut off by Arthur shoving him back a couple inches. He almost tripped over his own feet but found his stability again.
"Frankly, I don't give a fuck if it's the Queen of England!" Arthur scoffed.
Francis knew if he didn't find a logical solution to Arthur's anger he'd end up dead one way or another. It didn't matter if it was here on this farm in the middle of nowhere or wherever it was this Ivan man planned on shipping him. Dead was dead and Francis was not quite ready to shake hands with death.
"I can give you twice, triple anything he offers!" Francis bargained.
The cold barrel of Arthur's gun shifted, pressing firmly into the bottom oh his jaw. The hunter's eyes flickered in the fading afternoon sun.
"Do you understand what this could mean for my family? Ivan is the farthest thing from a saint and I've got no plans to find out what he's willing to do. Give me one good reason I shouldn't shoot you right now. Why should I put my family on the chopping block?" Arthur growled.
Francis knew things were going nowhere good. "Listen." He started, trying to look and sound calm. "Both you and I know I have plenty of money to spare. I don't know much about your life, but living under the thumb of this Ivan doesn't sound easy."
No argument followed that statement, so Francis took that as a sign to continue. "If we can get this done quickly Ivan will never have to know. To him I'll just be one step ahead of you. And if everything goes well you get your money and get to live the rest of your life free. No bounty hunting, no assignments, no Ivan. And I get to go back home intact. You can do this. If you're really that good at hunting this will be nothing."
The grip on Francis' shirt slackened and he thanked God for his silver tongue. It was barely noticeable, but Arthur's eyes flicked from Francis to Matthew. He was having conflicting thoughts. This could only mean good things for the Frenchman. That is if Arthur picked a more favorable option.
Francis stumbled again as he was pushed back. Arthur swore under his breath and stared him down. Of course he knew the risks that defying Ivan brought. But if he could just do this one thing, he and his family would be set. They could live in peace. A home in the Michigan Territory wouldn't cost much. It was even possible to buy out rooms for the three of them across from Beilschmidt's. Matthew could be close to Gilbert. Alfred could work with the brothers. Their lives would be the closest to perfect they would ever get.
The Frenchman watched uneasily as Arthur deliberated, looking torn between murder and risk. When he lifted his gun again and stepped towards him Francis' stomach dropped but he didn't move. He had dignity, and would rather die with it. But the shorter man didn't shoot. Arthur only pressed his chest against Francis', gun held up but not pointed, finger only hovering menacingly above the trigger.
"You're on thin ice Frenchy. Listen now and listen good. I'm going to do this. Not for you, because I don't give a single fuck about what happens after we get to New York. I'm doing this for my family. And I swear to God if things get bad I will put a bullet in your leg and I will haul your ass to Ivan quicker than it takes you to scream." Arthur growled, looking much too menacing for being so young.
Francis cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He was in control. In some capacity at least. "Well then, let's try not to get caught. Oui?"
Arthur lowered his gun and backed off. He turned away without saying anything. Francis stood still for a few moments, only sighing when the boy Arthur called Matthew approached him. He didn't say anything. But he motioned for Francis to follow him into the house. An uneasiness that Francis didn't know was there lifted, and he crossed the threshold of the house feeling safer and more grounded than he had in in a while.
The inside of the house was clean, but almost empty. It didn't look old but it gave off the feeling of age. Like it had seen far too much tragedy in it's short life and now was only an empty shell devoid of any soul. Arthur stood in the middle of what looked like a dining room.
Another man stood next to him, looking confused and angry.
"Boys." Arthur started, "I'm going to be going on an assignment."
"You're not seriously going to fucking do this are you?" The younger man spat, arm swung out towards Francis.
"Watch how you're talking to me Alfred!" Arthur yelled back and turned to fully face the other blond.
"You're going to die! He's wanted by Ivan for fuck's sake! Ivan will kill all of us if he finds out. You're better off leaving him in the Southern Few!"
"That's why he's not going to! I'm not stupid Alfred I know what I'm doing don't talk down to me."
Alfred and Arthur seemed to get progressively closer as they argued. Francis glanced at Matthew but it looked like he knew better than to get into this situation.
"And what if everything goes wrong? What if you run into another hunter? You're not invincible!"
"God damnit Alfred nothing is going to go wrong! I'm doing this for us! Stop arguing with me about this!"
Alfred stepped back slightly and threw his arms up. "Oh for us? This isn't going to end well and you know it! What happens when Ivan does find out huh? You're dead! Then who's he gonna come after? Matt and I will be running for our lives and what are you going to do for us then? Answer me Art! You'll be as much good to us as Mo-"
Arthur reached out and grabbed Alfred by his collar, bringing their noses inches apart. "I swear to God Alfred I'm going to...
Arthur stopped. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he let Alfred go. The younger man just glared back.
"Just go. I'm not going to do this with you right now." Arthur said more calmly, waving Alfred off.
Alfred looked shocked, then hurt. "Whatever." He said before pushing past Francis and leaving.
The room was quiet and Arthur stood in the middle of it pinching the bridge of his nose. If words were heavy silence must be heavier. There was a sense that this had become a common occurrence between the two and if it crushed Francis, what Matthew must have been feeling would be much more intense.
"Matthew." Arthur finally spoke.
"Yeah?"
Arthur walked towards the two. "I'm going to take a shower. Turn on the generator and see if you can make anything for dinner while I do that."
Matthew nodded in response and watched his cousin walk past them towards the bathroom. He seemed hesitant about something, but before Arthur could close the door he'd decided.
"Hey, Arthur?" He started, and waited until the other had turned around to look at him. "I... I love you."
The look on his face completely changed. He had seemed so conveniently distant the whole time Francis had the privilege of knowing him. Arthur acted like the rough world had polished off any flaws, but he was still human after all. Arthur looked at Matthew gently, almost as if he could cry should anything else be said.
"I know. I know you do Matt. I love you too." Arthur replied quietly and retreated into the bathroom.
Matthew took a deep breath and sighed. "Francis right?"
"The one and only."
"Well I'm going to start the generator. You can make yourself comfortable." Matthew, though more than likely only a couple years younger than himself, gave Francis the impression he was the cutest little kid ever. Constant politeness and forever merciful.
Despite the fact he had been offered free reign Francis felt no urge to do much of anything until Matthew returned. Despite it being rude to just root through anothers home he was out of his element. To be transparent, Arthur's home was certainly the poorest he'd ever been in. The floor was bare wood and the walls were also bare save for spots of drywall mud stark white against the slight grey of the drywall itself.
When Matthew returned Francis had decided to follow him to save any free will decisions until after Arthur had calmed down. At least then his chances of being shot were lowered slightly. The kitchen was better. The stone tile floor was plain but a step up from wood. The only working appliances were a stove and a microwave. The fridge had no doors, presumably ripped off for the convenience of storage space. Matthew started grabbing items from the shelf and Francis carefully sat down on one of the bar stools lined along a kitchen island.
"So, were you with Arthur when he went up North?" Matthew asked casually, opening a drawer and pulling out a large knife.
"I was. I met the lovely Feliciano. The brothers too." Francis followed the conversation just for the sake of keeping silence at bay. "I also heard about Gilbert and yourself. If it's not too rude to ask, how did that come to be?"
The smile on Matthew's face grew and softened. Much like how Feliciano's had when he saw Ludwig. "It's not too complicated honestly. Arthur was on an assignment and had sprained his ankle. He couldn't walk that well and he happened across Gilbert at a medical center. What for I can't really remember." Matthew trailed off as he tried to dig through his memories, but gave up sooner than he'd started.
"Anyway, Gilbert offered to help Arthur back home. Well, actually he'd demanded Arthur accept his help. But when he got here he insisted on staying for at least a week. It was the middle of winter and the trip back and forth was not fun. Gilbert said he'd stay forever if it meant never seeing snow again. And I don't know... He just kind of wormed his way into the family like he'd always belonged here. He didn't want to leave but Ludwig would probably come down and drag him back if he didn't. Arthur and Ludwig both though it wasn't more than a "crush" if that's what you want to call it. But it's been at least two years and I don't think they expected this." Matthew laughed.
Francis smiled. It sounded almost perfect. "Well, congratulations to the two of you. Not many people could stay in love so far away from each other. Fewer can do it while together."
Francis didn't ask what Matthew was making, and neither of them spoke again until Arthur found his way into the kitchen as well.
"We're going to leave tomorrow. Matthew, I doubt Alfred will come back tonight so take his bed and let Francis have yours." Arthur's tone left no room for argument. Not that either of the other two felt up to it.
At least for now.
Authors Note:
Ok, I know it's been like, 6 months but this fic is not dead I swear. I've worked mostly on writing ahead (3 chapters ahead right now!) and, because I have no idea how to keep ideas in my head for longer than 3 minutes I've started writing down little pieces of a new fic. I'm not working as intensely on it, but it's mostly there for filler when this fic gets boring or I get stuck. I'm not gonna jinx it by talking too much about it but I will say it will be for Free!, and it may or may not have come about by talking to one of my co-workers about being lazy.
I'm also so sorry if this chapter seems a bit jarring or cut up. Between chapters 5-6 I had a bit of trouble finding my style on top of writers block in general. I promise the next couple chapters should be a bit of an improvement. I hope you guys enjoyed none the less!