Ever since the alley incident, Francis had waited inside the office for Arthur to pick him up. Today was no different as Jeffrey parked so the man could walk into the building. Seeing him coming, Francis jumped up and ran to meet him half way. The older blond stopped and smiled fondly at him, taking his hand when he was close enough. Together they walked back to the car.

As they drove, Francis told both men about his day and what he had learned. They both listened patiently like they had every day for the last few weeks.

"Francis," Arthur began as the boy started to wind down. "Your teacher told me how well you did on your last test so would you like to go out for a treat tonight?"

The boy's eyes lit up.

"Yes please!"

Arthur laughed quietly at his enthusiasm. "Alright. We will go after you finish your homework." The car stopped and Arthur turned to get out, still smiling. "I will help you if-" His voice trailed off and Francis looked at him curiously; the smile on his face had disappeared. "Francis," he started again, tone sharp. "Stay here."

He slipped out of the car and Jeffrey locked it behind him, staying with the boy. Cautiously Arthur approached the house. His front door had been bashed in and was hanging off its hinges. He stepped inside and silently moved toward the small table just inside the hall. The drawer in it was pulled open and a pistol withdrawn.

He continued further into the old home, years of stealth training aiding him. It was eerily quiet around him as he maneuvered through the house and around broken furniture. Every room on the ground floor seemed to have been vandalized but no one was found. He retreated to the car and called his boss once he was sitting next to Francis again.

Police officers picked their way around, looking for any clues as to who had broken in. Cameron stood next to Arthur in the entryway, frown deeply etched into his face.

"This is not acceptable, Kirkland. You assured me you had this under control but this is the third incident since you became guardian of France. It is quite clear to me that France is not safe here." Arthur's head shot up to stare, open mouthed, at his boss. "I have already alerted Hollande that France will be on the next train."

"You can't do that!" Arthur shouted. "Francis is not safe without another nation to protect him and he must be kept a secret! You can't take him away!"

"Do not raise your voice to me, Kirkland. Look around you. France is clearly not safe here." The other opened his mouth to continue arguing but Cameron did not let him speak. "It has been decided already. Inform the boy and pack his belongings. We are leaving in half an hour."

Biting back the words he wanted to hurl at his boss, Arthur stomped away to find Francis.

The boy was sitting on his bed with his assistant while Jeffrey stood guard outside his door. He quickly explained the situation to the two and both were upset. He also asked his assistant if she would accompany Francis back to France.

She agreed swiftly before excusing herself.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur pushed the door open and walked over to Francis. The boy was had his head hanging and was staring blankly at his hands.

"I'm sorry, Francis. I don't believe we will be able to go out tonight." The boy shrugged. "Due to the circumstances, my boss thinks you would be safer in France."

The boy peered up at him.

"So we are going back to France?"

Arthur shook his head sadly.

"No. I cannot go with you. Miss Archer is going to take you there and help you get settled before coming home."

Starting to understand, Francis' eyes filled with tears.

"You're leaving me?"

The older nation's heart broke at Francis' crushed voice.

"I don't want to but I do want you to be safe." He looked at his watch and sighed. "We need to start packing now or we'll be late." Francis didn't move as Arthur pulled out the suitcase he had come with and started filling it with his clothes. "I will bring the rest of your belongings when I come to visit you this weekend." He picked up the bag. "Come now," he called softly.

Francis followed him obediently, wiping his eyes.

Cameron and Miss Archer were waiting by the door. Arthur passed the bag to his assistant and led Francis to her side. He knelt down in front of the boy and gazed into his eyes.

"We will not be apart forever," he whispered. "I will call you right before you get on the train, as soon as you get off, and every single day. I promise you, dove." The boy threw his arms around Arthur's neck, sobbing into his shoulder. "There there," he soothed. "This is not the end." The boy slowly stopped crying and the man pressed a kiss onto his forehead. "Go with Miss Archer, dove."

Sniffling, Francis walked with the young woman to the armored car waiting for them. A dozen men in uniforms and carrying weapons were already seated along the walls. Francis waved at Arthur from inside before the door closed.

Arthur watched the car until long after it was out of sight before dragging himself over to his armchair and dropping into it. His boss followed him and started saying how this was a good thing, he wouldn't be so distracted, he would be able to get more work done, he wouldn't be responsible for Francis anymore. He went on and on but Arthur tuned him out, not hearing anything over his frozen thoughts.

Eventually realizing the other wasn't listening to him, Cameron began directing questions at him that he didn't answer. Growing frustrated, he gave up and left. Arthur continued to sit, blank faced, for a few hours. Nothing seemed real to him. He felt like he was stuck in a nightmare.

After a long time, he managed to pull himself out of the chair and up to Francis' room. He started packing all of the boy's books into boxes. The lamps and pillows were also packed. The soft blue sheets were replaced with the old, gray ones as well as the curtains. The bookcase, chair, and boxes were all taken to the attic. All the pretty pictures were torn down and thrown away as he worked in a daze.

The room was slowly reset to its state when Francis had arrived. It had taken him nearly two hours and his stomach and started rumbling a while ago. Too upset to cook, he called for Jeffrey to drive him to a local restaurant.

The world seemed to pass by in a confusing mixture of colors that he was too tired to fully understand.

"Stop," he called suddenly, voice weak.

Jeffrey instantly obeyed, pulling off the street. In front of them was a familiar black car.

Arthur slipped out of his car and approached it. That was definitely the car Francis had left in. Why was it here and not back at the garage? He walked around to the back, inspecting it closely, and froze. The back doors were open, displaying the gruesome sight inside.

The soldiers inside were in awkward positions, blood covering them and the interior of the car. His assistant was laying on the middle of the floor, eyes unseeing. The sight made him step back in shock, trying to make sense of what was in front of him. There was so much blood. It was leaking out of the truck and onto the ground. No one inside was alive or capable of saving.

Who had done this? Why?

A sudden thought popped into his head as his eyes roved over the scene.

Where was Francis?