/**

* "Fast" update, but only because I was half a day late last time.

* If you guys haven't noticed yet, every chapter is told in a different person's POV. As such, this is probably not how you expected things to go. This is not an adventure story. It's more focused on people's emotions.

*/

IV

Francis

Los Angeles, USA. March 22, 10:48 am

Francis didn't quite know what to make of the news. That frail looking body on the stretcher was Arthur? The person who got hit by a truck and ended up looking like a broken mannequin was Arthur? There was no way. Like Alistair had said, it couldn't have been...

But it was.

He couldn't really accept it, even though the police already confirmed the body's identity as that of his "dear enemy", because the Arthur he knew didn't look like that. He had seen the man bloodied and beaten before - he reveled in remembering that he was the cause once upon a time - but Arthur always showed that he wouldn't fall no matter what kind of pain he went through. His eyes always held that fierce determination that Francis - and surely the rest of the world as well - had admired him for, unyielding, unwavering. He was never one to fall without a fight.

The body on the stretcher had been limp. It had resigned itself to its fate, to death. There was no way that Francis would acknowledge that weak person as his most beloved rival.

But it had been Arthur.

The news had said so. Matthew had said that Alfred had said so. He couldn't deny it any longer.

His rival had fallen.

Arthur, that liar. Didn't he say that he'd never fall, that he'd never let himself be killed until his dreams are realized? The world was far from peaceful yet, so why did Arthur let himself be broken? Why did he let himself get so...

So... What?

Weak? Arthur wasn't weak. He was strong, stronger than anybody the world had ever seen. He was stronger than Rome, stronger than Germania, and stronger than the entire world combined. After all, didn't the bear the weight of the world on his shoulders? Didn't he survive everything that life dared to throw at him? No, Arthur was the farthest thing from weak.

Exhausted? Perhaps. After all, one can only take so much before it started to break down. Arthur bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. He survived everything that life dared to throw at him. In retrospect, it shouldn't be surprising that he had tired himself out. Wasn't it the fact that he managed for so long the most surprising thing of all?

Thinking on it, wasn't Francis at fault? Didn't he promise - a long, long time ago - that he'd be there to stop Arthur from doing stupid things? He was, after all, the kind of person who would willingly sacrifice himself for others, the kind of person who would gladly fight and give his life for a cause he deemed greater than himself. He was the kind of person underestimates the value of his own life.

He was the kind of person who wanted to eat and had the means to, but would give everything away if somebody else needed to eat more.

Francis had no doubt in his mind that Arthur thought the little girl's life as something more important than his own.

And he agonized over that thought. He had promised that he would stop Arthur from doing "stupid" things exactly because he saw no value in his life. He had promised because he wanted to change that thinking. And yet here they were, in the present day, and Francis, of all things, forgot about the promise that he had made. In the midst of all the wars and disputes and other insignificant things, he had forgotten something so important.

"Désolé, Arthur... Je suis désolé..." Francis muttered, tears streaming from his eyes. He muttered the same words again and again, trying to make up for the centuries that he had forgotten his promise.

~.;*;.~

Los Angeles, USA. March 22, 11:04 pm

The Kirklands - and one O'Brien - got to LA at the earliest time that they could and Francis, frankly, was surprised to see them looking so terrified. Arthur came from this family after all, and if anything could be proof of their lineage apart from those hideous caterpillars they call eyebrows - of course, he'd never miss a chance to point that out, and especially in such a serious situation, when he knew they all needed a little bit of lightheartedness - it would be their expressive green eyes.

Francis could practically feel the fear they were emitting.

"My... Our brother... How is he?" Alistair was the only one who spoke, but Francis knew they were all asking the same question in their heads.

As much as they would like to pretend hating their youngest brother, that was all it was - pretenses, acts. Before it had been so Arthur would grow strong - and it succeeded - but in the more recent years, it just became something that they couldn't throw away. They didn't really know how to interact with their youngest brother in another way and in the end, they just stuck with the method that they had always employed.

Francis was sure that when - when, not if - Arthur gets better, they'd shower him with the love they'd always had for their brother without care of their pride being damaged or any other bullshit excuse that they might make up.

"He's in ICU. In critical condition, but alive nonetheless."

A collective sigh of relief. Francis chuckled.

"Matthew told me that the hospital isn't going to allow visitors until Arthur's condition stabilizes."

"So we can't see him yet?" It surprised Francis that it was Patrick who asked the question. He always thought that the Irishman would be the least inclined to, what with the animosity still going on between the two brothers. But then again, the Kirklands - and the O'Brien - were an unpredictable lot.

"We have to wait for their go signal."

Alistair sighed. "That guy better make it through. Or else we'll drag his ass back from hell then kill him ourselves."

"He will," Francis assured him, but he was also convincing himself. "After all, he's-"

"Strong," Dylan finished. "But we all knew that even before this happened."

"What we forget is that while he is strong, he is not invincible," Connor put in. "There were times when we knew he was suffering but we ignored it, saying that he was strong and that he could handle it. Those were mistakes. Big mistakes."

"And we're not going to make the same mistake again," Patrick said, expressing the wills of the entire family. "We'll be here this time. By his side."

"He'll survive," Francis assured them, and this time, he believed his words. "He'll definitely wake up, if it's just so he can laugh at our stupidity."

/ Please review. :) /