About half an hour later the door opened and a much cleaner Francis stepped out, dressed in the new clothes, still wearing Arthur's coat over them, and hair drying around his shoulders. His skin had lost the blue tinge and the boy no longer shook so much so Arthur was relieved.
"Do you feel better?" he asked softly.
"Yes."
"Good. Now come with me and we'll get you something to eat." He walked slowly so that Francis could limp next to him without hurting himself further. The kitchen was just as cold as the rest of the house but England was more than happy to shiver and lose feeling in his upper body if it meant that Francis could feel warm for the first time in however long it had been. Unfortunately, not only was the kitchen freezing, it was also bare; every cupboard was either empty or being used to store utensils and other cooking supplies. "Where were you getting food?" he asked the boy, confused.
"Over there." He pointed at the wall that divided the kitchen from the dining room.
Walking into the other room, he took a step back. The remains of a large feast that had probably been for a party the Frenchman had hosted before he turned into this child littered the table. There wasn't much left so he guessed that Francis had been picking from it which helped it along. Dishes were everywhere and a wine glass was lying on its side with a drop of red liquid still inside.
From the state of the remaining food, Arthur could guess that this party had been weeks ago. The Francis he knew, the adult one not this strange child, would never leave his home in such a state. He would have cleaned up all the food at least before going off to bed. If these dishes were still here, and somewhat laden with food, then whatever happened to Francis had taken place either during the party or shortly thereafter.
He was brought back to himself when he noticed Francis reaching for a plate.
"No!" The boy jumped and pulled his hand back at the outburst. "That food isn't safe to eat! It could make you very sick!" Francis put his head down in shame and Arthur instantly felt horrible. He knelt down to be eye level with him and softly said, "I'm sorry, Francis. I didn't mean to snap at you. I was just worried about your health." Gently putting his hands on the boy's shoulders, he softened his gaze. "I will get you something better to eat on our way, okay?"
"Where are we going?" Francis asked quietly.
"I'm going to bring you to my home so I can take care of you until your dad comes back but I live kind of far away so we'll have to pack anything you want to bring with you."
"Where do you live?"
"In England."
Francis tilted his head to the side, blue eyes full of confusion.
"England?" he said slowly, sounding out each letter.
The older blond nodded.
"Yes. It's a short trip from here." He looked at his watch. "But we need to leave soon or we won't make it tonight." Picking up the boy to save time and prevent him from walking on his injured leg, he noticed that he was much lighter than he appeared. 'Probably from the malnutrition,' he thought. 'That can be fixed though.'
When they reached the bedroom he found that since he was holding Francis he didn't have a free hand to open the door. If he had been a couple hundred years younger he would have managed just fine but it had been a long time since he had been watching a child. Too long, he decided. He liked kids and he wanted his own but he didn't have anyone to raise one with. He could probably do it alone just fine but he would prefer to have someone special that could parent with him.
"Francis, could you open the door?" he asked in English, not noticing that he had switched. The boy just stared at him, confused. He thought he recognized his name but it sounded strange. "This isn't funny, Francis. Open the door or I will have to put you down." Still the boy didn't move. "I know you know how to open a door, Francis. You've done it before. I saw you." When Francis continued to simply stare at him blankly, he sighed in frustration and put him on the ground so he could open the door for both of them. "There," he stated, looking pointedly at Francis. "How hard was that?"
"What?"
"The door, Francis, the-" He stopped when he realized what he was saying and what language he was saying in it. "I'm sorry, Francis," he whispered, once again speaking the boy's language. "I forgot."
"Forgot?"
"I forgot you don't speak my language."
'I forgot you refused to learn my language but forced me to learn yours,' he thought with a scowl.
"It's the 21st century, idiot!" He had yelled at him once. "English is a universal language! Learn it already!"
What he didn't know is that the Frenchman had gone home and tried desperately to learn the language but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't say the words right, couldn't spell them, or even understand what they meant. It was like he had been cursed to never understand his ally's tongue. Even Mandarin he grasped with relative ease but English eluded him.
'That might be a problem,' he realized. 'I'm taking him to a country that almost exclusively speaks English and he knows none.' He shrugged it off. 'He'll learn.'
He led the boy into the room and instructed him to pick out any clothes he liked while he himself went to find one of the Frenchman's many suitcases.
Francis had a hard time picking out clothes; he wanted to take all of them but he had a feeling that wasn't going to be allowed.
He had finally decided on a few pairs of pants, some shirts, and a few colorful tunics when Arthur returned with a bag.
"All finished up?" he asked as he set the bag down. Francis nodded. "Good. I'll pack it for you and then we'll leave."
The boy watched him pull a phone out of his pocket and dialed the number for a local cab company to pick them up as he packed the few outfits into the small suitcase. When he was finished, he turned to Francis and asked if he was ready to go.
"Yes," he replied nervously, giving a quick last look around the room.
Seeing his unease, Arthur kindly held his hand out for the boy to take which he did instantly.
"Come on, Francis. The cab is waiting for us."
He gently led the boy out of the house and down the steps to the car waiting for them.
AN: The next chapter will be about Arthur taking Francis to London and getting him settled in so look forward to that!
Italics- speaking in French or internal thoughts
No Italics- speaking in English