Thanks to fishstick1999, AusHunIsForever777 and SansTheLanguage218 for reviewing.
This chapter has a trigger warning for abuse.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
FraChu: Worry
"Here, try this," Yao said.
Francis smiled as he took a sample of the other male's dish. His eyes twinkled in delight as the heavenly taste assaulted his taste buds. Francis and Yao had been friends since high school, being the only male students who decided on Home Economics. Yao had moved on to becoming a chef in a restaurant, while Francis had opened a bakery. They remained close friends, and would often come together to try out new recipes.
"C'est magnifique," Francis said. "You have outdone yourself, mon ami."
"Xiè xie," Yao said. "So, how's it going with Arthur?"
Francis flinched when the other mentioned his boyfriend, and hoped that Yao didn't notice. He quickly plastered a smile on his face.
"Everything is alright," Francis said. "So, haven't found someone for yourself yet?"
Yao observed his friend closely. He hadn't missed the flinch, and he wondered if there was something going on between Francis and Arthur. But he respected his friend's privacy.
"No," Yao said. "And I'm not looking for someone at the moment. I'm happy with the way I am."
"I guess that's alright," Francis said. "But I'm worried for you. I don't want you to grow old, alone."
"I doubt that that would happen," Yao said wryly.
…
Francis closed the door behind him, before he slumped against it. Yao didn't ask any more questions. He was still safe.
He heard footsteps behind him and tensed, before turning around. The scent of alcohol made him gag, and that was before he actually saw Arthur standing there.
"Had a nice time?" Arthur asked sarcastically.
"Y-yes," Francis said. "Y-Yao has come up w-with some new r-recipes. Y-you should try them s-sometime."
Arthur clicked his tongue, and Francis pressed himself against the front door. Arthur raised a brow and smirked.
"Now, why do you seem so worried?" Arthur asked. "It couldn't be that you had told him something that you shouldn't have."
"N-non, of course…" Francis said, before he realised his mistake.
Arthur scowled, and Francis knew that he would get hurt.
"Come here," Arthur said coldly.
Francis swallowed. If he went, he knew that he would get hurt. Arthur tried to avoid any violence right next to the front door, in case Francis tried to get away. But if he took too long, or tried to leave, then Arthur would only hurt him more. So he tentatively took a step closer.
Once he was close enough, Arthur grabbed a fistful of his hair before slamming him against the nearby wall. Francis grunted in pain, and Arthur's hand wrapped around Francis's throat.
"What have I told you about speaking that filthy language?" Arthur snarled.
"D… I'm sorry!" Francis exclaimed, almost slipping into French again.
Francis's eyes widened when Arthur's fist collided with his stomach. He tried to cry out in pain, but the grip around his throat tightened, smothering the cry.
"Stupid idiot," Arthur hissed. "Why do I put up with you? You're useless. You can't do anything right."
Francis bit his lip, enduring the abuse. He didn't want to speak out, and he didn't want to make Arthur angry. Or angrier. Arthur had threatened to kill Yao if Francis told anyone about what he was doing to him, or if he tried to leave. And Francis didn't want to risk the chance that Arthur would turn his anger on Yao. He also didn't want to make Arthur angrier out of fear that he would be hurt even worse.
Arthur smirked, knowing that he was victorious once again. He slammed Francis one more time against the wall, before releasing him.
"If you're done being useless," Arthur said, "then you should start on dinner."
Francis nodded his head, before shakily making his way to the kitchen.
…
Francis was working in his bakery when he saw Yao walking in. He smiled upon seeing his friend, and he allowed his employees to take care of the customers while he went to check on his best friend.
"Yao, mon ami," Francis said, smiling happily. "What can I do for you?"
Yao smiled.
"I actually have a business proposition for you," Yao said. "Do you mind if we speak in private?"
"Of course," Francis said, leading the way to the backroom.
Yao greeted the employees as they passed, and they greeted him back. When they were finally alone, Yao started to explain his proposal.
"I was thinking of adding to the desert menu," Yao said. "We need more pastry dishes. And since you always come up with delicious pastries, I want you to come up with the menu."
"Really?" Francis asked.
"That's right. Of course, you'll get a cut of the profits made by the pastries, and we'll also advertise the fact that you're the creator, saying that they could find more baked goods from this bakery, and it would thus attract more business. What do you say?"
Francis smiled, nodding his head.
"I would need to take a good look at one of your menus so that I can create something that complements what you have. We do not want to create a conflict."
"Of course," Yao said. "And we could have an evening to promote them. A gala evening or something. A three-course meal with a set combination, though the guests can choose which combination they want."
"I see you've developed a sense for flair," Francis said, chuckling.
"Only from spending time with you," Yao teased.
Francis continued to laugh, absentmindedly brushing his hair behind his ear. Yao's smile fell, his eyes widening.
"Francis, what happened?" Yao asked in alarm.
Francis looked confused, and Yao reached out to touch the bruise that used to be hidden by the hair. Francis's eyes widened, and he placed a nervous smile on his face.
"I-it's nothing," Francis said. "I-I was just clumsy, that's all."
Yao stared hard at Francis, and the Frenchman squirmed under the other male's gaze.
"So, when do you think you could send me the menus?" Francis asked.
"I'll email them to you later," Yao said. "Francis, are you sure that everything's okay?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
"You seem… different."
Francis shook his head, a frown on his face.
"I'm the same as always," he said, before he smiled. "Come on. I'll get you some croissants to go."
Yao kept his eyes on Francis as they made their way to the main part. Francis hoped that Yao didn't realise the truth.
…
Francis frantically turned the stove on as he scrambled to get some ingredients ready. He had been so busy looking at Yao's menu and coming up with ideas that he had completely forgotten about starting dinner. Arthur would be back soon, and if dinner wasn't ready…
The front door slammed, and Francis tensed when he heard the sound. Arthur was back. And judging by the way he had slammed the door, it had been a rough day at work. Which meant…
"Frog!" Arthur called out. "Where are you?!"
Francis flinched, and he quickly scrambled to look busy, chopping up vegetables. He hoped that he managed to get enough done before Arthur found him and realised that dinner was nowhere near ready.
Sooner than he would have liked, Arthur stormed into the kitchen. He narrowed his eyes, before stalking closer to Francis.
Francis had completely frozen as soon as Arthur entered, and he was staring with wide eyes at his boyfriend. As he had predicted, Arthur had a bad day.
"What's this?" Arthur asked sarcastically. "Dinner doesn't seem to be even close to ready. What have you been doing, you lazy git?"
"I-I…" Francis stuttered, but he knew that he couldn't provide Arthur with any excuses.
Arthur glanced at the stove, and Francis had at least managed to get a frying pan on it, frying a chopped onion. Arthur stalked closer, and Francis tried to back up, but Arthur quickly grabbed him by his wrist. And while Francis reacted to the sudden grip on his wrist, he failed to notice as Arthur moved the frying pan away.
"Can't think of a good lie?" Arthur sneered. "You're as stupid as you are lazy. And you deserve punishment."
"No," Francis whimpered, his eyes clenched shut.
Francis screamed at the sudden pain, and he desperately jerked his hand away. He was surprised by how easily Arthur released him, and Francis was sent tumbling to the ground, cradling his injured hand.
It took him a moment to process what had happened, and as soon as he did, he made his way to the sink, putting his injured hand underneath the faucet. He knew that the damage had been done, and blisters were already starting to form on his burned palm.
Arthur watched all of this with amusement on his face.
"It would seem I have to waste money on takeout," Arthur said. "Actually, I shouldn't bother. I was planning on going to the pub. I'll get something to eat there."
Francis only barely registered what was happening, but as soon as the pain in his hand had been somewhat soothed, he realised what Arthur said. Leaving the faucet on, he collapsed against the sink and broke out into sobs.
…
Yao walked into Francis's bakery again, seeing his friend almost immediately, but something was wrong. Francis looked exhausted, not just physically, but mentally as well. Frowning, Yao walked up to his best friend.
It took Francis a moment to notice him, but once he did, a tired smile graced his lips. Seeing the smile only made Yao more worried about him.
"Yao," Francis greeted. "I took a look at your menus, and have already come up with a few ideas. Why don't you join me in the backroom?"
Yao nodded, and as Francis led the way to the back, he noticed something.
"What happened to your hand?!" Yao asked in alarm.
Francis flinched, and Yao saw him try to hide his bandaged hand.
"It was stupid of me," Francis said, turning back with a smile on his face. "Last night when making dinner, Arthur started talking to me and I moved to lean against the stove. I forgot that I had already turned the stove on, and…"
Yao winced at the description, but there was something very wrong about it. Francis would never make a mistake like that in the kitchen. And as for his clumsiness… Francis was a very graceful person. 'Clumsy' was not a word one used to describe Francis Bonnefoy. This was the second injury in two days that Francis had passed off as him being clumsy.
There was something nagging at Yao, but before he could grasp what it was, Francis turned and smiled at him again.
"Let us not worry about something so trivial," Francis said. "We have a party to prepare, after all."
"Francis," Yao said, "you would tell me if something was wrong, right?"
"…Of course."
"I'm really worried about you."
Yao didn't miss the hesitation, and he felt his chest tighten. He cared for Francis, and seeing Francis like this destroyed him. Francis's smiles weren't as vibrant as they used to be, and it was as though every time they saw each other, Francis had a new wound. It had been happening for a while now, and Yao only wished that Francis would tell him what was wrong. Before it became too late.
…
Francis was preparing to go to Yao's house. They would be discussing the menu and trying to taste-test the food, seeing whether or not it would work. He had just added the finishing touches when Arthur walked into the room.
"What are you doing?" Arthur demanded.
Francis jumped in surprise, and he spun around to face Arthur. He could see Arthur glaring at him, and his mouth went dry.
"I-I'm going t-to meet with Y-Yao," Francis said. "W-we're planning a g-gala…"
"Oh really?" Arthur sneered. "At Yao's restaurant, I presume?"
"…Yes."
Arthur scoffed.
"I have to admire Yao," Arthur said. "He's willing to allow you to stink up his business."
Francis flinched, but he didn't say anything.
"…You're not going," Arthur said firmly.
"What?" Francis asked.
"Don't talk back to me," Arthur said. "You will not be going to meet up with Yao today."
Francis simply stared at Arthur, and did the most daring thing he's done in months: he shook his head. Arthur narrowed his eyes.
"What was that?" Arthur asked.
Francis swallowed thickly.
"I'm going to meet with Yao," Francis said. "He's my friend."
"It seems to me that he's more than a friend to you," Arthur said. "Tell me something, if you were to choose between the two of us, who would it be?"
Francis closed his eyes, knowing that he would only cause trouble for himself.
"Y-Yao is my best friend," Francis said. "I care about him."
"But you love me," Arthur said threateningly.
Francis took a deep breath.
"No," Francis whispered. "Just like you don't love me. Or you wouldn't do these things to me."
"What things?" Arthur asked sarcastically. "You mean, like this?"
Francis yelped when Arthur punched him in the cheek. He then grabbed a fistful of his hair and threw him against the mirror. Francis whimpered as the glass broke, some of the shards cutting into his cheek and shoulder.
"You will do as I say," Arthur said. "You will no longer be seeing Yao."
Francis desperately shook his head.
"I can't do that," Francis said. "I won't listen to you anymore."
Arthur snarled, punching Francis in the stomach. Francis grunted in pain.
"Je te déteste," Francis hissed.
If possible, Arthur appeared to grow more enraged. He threw a few more punches towards Francis, and once Francis was curled up on the ground, Arthur started stomping on him. Francis screamed in pain as he felt something crack, and he realised that Arthur had most likely broken a rib.
"I hope you learned your lesson," Arthur said.
"Yes," Francis said, pushing himself to his feet. "I've been wasting six months of my life putting up with your abuse. I've had enough. You can't control me anymore."
Francis gasped when Arthur wrapped his hands around his throat.
"You've really done it now," Arthur said. "I think I'll have to make you relearn your place."
Francis tried to pry Arthur's hands off. Arthur didn't hold on for too long, before slapping Francis on the cheek. Francis shrieked when Arthur grabbed his injured hand, before clamping his hand on his mouth.
"Quiet," Arthur hissed. "You don't want to disturb the neighbours, do you?"
Francis whimpered when Arthur punched him in the mouth. Francis tasted blood, and he carefully tested his mouth with his tongue, checking to see that he didn't lose a tooth. Luckily, he didn't.
Arthur hauled him to his feet, before he threw him to the bed.
"N-no," Francis said, before he scrambled off the bed.
Arthur tried to force him down, but Francis kicked him away. Francis started to run off, reaching the living room before Arthur caught up to him, throwing him towards the glass coffee table. Francis gasped when the glass broke underneath him.
"Where do you think you're going?" Arthur sneered, before he punched Francis again.
Francis went limp as he accepted his fate, though the tears were still streaming down his face. He supposed that he should accept this punishment. Yao's face flashed in his mind, and he closed his eyes. He hoped that if he took most of Arthur's anger, the Brit would forget about his friend.
Francis started to feel as though he was underwater, and he barely registered as foreign sounds invaded his senses. Consciousness was slipping from him, and he relinquished his hold.
…
Yao was anxiously tapping his foot. It wasn't like Francis to be so late. He tried calling his friend, but there was no answer. He briefly considered calling Arthur, but something stopped him.
There was just this… vibe that he got from Arthur. It felt threatening, and he couldn't shake off the memories of Francis whenever their conversations drifted to Arthur. He looked as though he wanted to avoid talking about his boyfriend.
Yao frowned, before he decided that he would go to Francis's house instead. It didn't take too long to go there, anyway.
Several minutes later he was in Francis's street, and as a certain house came into view he stopped. Police cars and an ambulance were parked in front of the house, which was Francis's. Feeling dread pooling in his stomach, Yao ran closer, hoping that nothing had happened to his friend.
Some of the neighbours had gathered to see what was happening, and Yao felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around to see Heracles Karpusi, Francis's neighbour. He and Yao knew each other, and Yao hoped that he could get an answer out of Heracles.
"What happened?" Yao asked desperately.
"I called the police," Heracles said. "I was in the garden when I heard Francis screaming. He sounded like he was in pain. The police arrested Arthur for domestic abuse."
Yao's eyes widened, and he felt his blood run cold. Suddenly, all of the pieces clicked into place. Francis was acting more withdrawn. He tried to avoid talking about Arthur. His sudden 'clumsiness'. It all made sense, and he felt horrible for not realising it sooner. If Francis was hurting, how could he have ignored it?
As he was mentally berating himself, the paramedics came out of the house, a stretcher between them. Yao felt his heart sink at the sight of the figure laid out on the stretcher.
"Francis!" Yao said, instinctively running closer.
"Sir!" a policeman said, quickly catching Yao. "You can't…"
"He's my friend!" Yao snapped. "Francis… I… I'm supposed to be his emergency contact. Please!"
The policeman glanced towards the paramedics, and one of them nodded. The policeman sighed, before he released Yao.
"Would you like to come to the hospital with him?" one of the paramedics asked.
Yao nodded his head, and he climbed in the back of the ambulance after they had carted Francis inside. He watched as the paramedics tended to his friend's wounds, and he couldn't help but wonder for how long it had been ongoing.
"Looks like this wasn't the first time," one of the paramedics said.
Yao looked towards the man, who was focused on Francis's bandaged hand. Except, the bandage had been undone, showing the burned hand. Yao felt his stomach drop.
"H-he said he placed it on a heated stovetop," Yao said.
"And you believe it?" the paramedic asked.
"No. Francis wouldn't be that careless."
"You're right. This burn looks too bad to be an accident. It looks as though his hand was pressed against the heat. Judging by the bruising around the wrist, it's possible. But perhaps the stovetop wasn't a lie."
Yao felt sick to his stomach. How could anyone do this kind of thing?
He looked towards Francis with watery eyes, wondering why his friend hadn't told him about what he was going through.
…
Hours later, Yao was in Francis's hospital room. The Frenchman had yet to wake, and the doctors said that they didn't know when he would, but assured him that he would. There was no if involved there.
However, it didn't improve Yao's mood. Seeing Francis like that… It made his heart ache. Ample time had been given for all of the new bruises to appear, and Yao felt furious at the man responsible. He could try to ask him why he had done it, but he knew that there would never be an answer that justified this horrible affair.
And Francis… How long had he been forced to endure the abuse? Because the doctors informed him of multiple older scars and bruises. And how did he manage to handle it? Yao thought that his friend must have been the bravest man alive to live with such a man.
Unless Francis said that he loved Arthur, and that he had hoped that he would change. Because Francis was supposed to be smarter than that.
Sighing, Yao took Francis's hand. Seeing his friend like that made his heart ache, and he hoped that he would never have to see Francis in a similar situation again.
…
Warmth. That was the first thing Francis became aware of. And then… pain. He didn't remember the last time that he had been in so much pain. Arthur had never hurt him this much before.
And the memories of what happened before he lost consciousness came flooding back, and Francis was filled with worry. Arthur had clearly finished with him, but did he decide to go after Yao?
Francis felt something warm around his hand, and after verifying that it wasn't the one that Arthur had burned the other day, he came to the conclusion that someone was holding it. It wouldn't be Arthur, and he dared to hope that it was Yao.
With more effort than he had thought possible, Francis opened his eyes. He had to blink them a few times for them to stay open, but eventually he managed. The white of a hospital room greeted him, but it wasn't long before golden eyes came into view.
"Francis!" Yao exclaimed. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"
Francis simply stared at Yao for a while.
"What… what happened?" Francis asked.
Yao sighed.
"Neighbours heard you screaming and called the police," Yao said. "Arthur has been arrested."
Francis stared at Yao for a while longer.
"Then… you know?" Francis asked.
"About the abuse?" Yao asked. "Yes."
Francis burst into tears, and reached out to hug Yao. He felt happy when Yao returned the hug.
"I'm sorry!" Francis said. "Arthur, he… He said that if I try to leave or t-tell anyone then he would k-kill you."
Yao's grip tightened, and Francis could feel his friend running his hand soothingly through his hair.
"You went through all of this… to protect me?" Yao whispered. He sighed. "You dummy. You should have been worried about yourself."
"I'm sorry," Francis sobbed. "I was afraid of losing you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"Shhh," Yao soothed. "You're not the one that has to be sorry. I'm sorry for not realising sooner. I'm sorry that you had to go through all of that because of me. But… Francis, you're so brave. You've been living with a monster for all this time. But you're safe now. Let me protect you."
Francis held Yao tightly as he continued to cry, the fear and despair that had collected for months finally being released. And throughout it all, Yao's soothing actions never ceased.
…
After leaving the hospital, Francis moved in with Yao. The house had been Arthur's, and Francis didn't want to have anything more to do with that wretched place.
Their plans for the gala had been postponed. Luckily, they hadn't gotten past the planning phase, so they didn't have to cancel anything. And Francis's employees were sympathetic, agreeing that Francis should be given time to recover. He and Yao occasionally went to check on things, but the staff were more than capable.
It happened a few weeks after Francis had been discharged from the hospital.
Yao was on his way to his restaurant when he noticed Francis sitting in the living room, what looked to be a newspaper in front of him. Upon closer inspection, Yao realised that it was the real-estate section.
"What are you doing?" Yao asked gently.
Francis jumped, before spinning around. Yao felt his heart clench when he saw the fear in Francis's eyes. Of course, speaking up suddenly was one of the things that reminded Francis of him. Even if Yao tried to be gentle, Francis was still jumpy.
In order to put his friend at ease, Yao crouched down next to the sofa. Francis seemed to calm after Yao ceased looming over him, and he turned back to the paper in front of him.
"I think I have imposed on you long enough," Francis said. "I think it is time for me to find a place for myself."
Yao frowned, before he went to sit next to his friend. He noticed Francis stiffen for a brief moment before relaxing again.
"I don't mind you staying here," Yao said. "I'd actually preferred if you stayed here. Imagining what happened before…"
Francis didn't respond, keeping his eyes downcast. Yao took Francis's hand in his own, soothingly rubbing circles on the back with his thumb.
"What if I can convince you to stay?" Yao asked.
"How?" Francis asked, turning to him.
Yao took a deep breath, before he leaned over and softly kissing Francis on the cheek. When he pulled away, he saw that Francis's eyes were wide, but not with fear. He was confused.
"Seeing you like that… made me realise something," Yao said. "I… I love you, Francis. You… you don't have to say anything yet. Just… say that you'll stay here. And then, maybe, if you're ready…"
Francis averted his gaze, but there was a small smile there.
"I realised a few months ago that I didn't love Arthur," Francis said. "And I… I kept hoping that I would end up with someone better. Someone… Someone like you." He sighed. "I'm not ready for another relationship yet, mon ami."
"And I understand that," Yao said. "I'll wait. If you feel you're ready and are willing to try, then I'll be right here."
Francis smiled.
…
Three months had passed, and Francis was in the kitchen, working on some pastries. A month ago, he had deemed himself ready, and he and Yao had become an official couple.
Francis felt as though he didn't deserve Yao. The other man was so patient and understanding. Whenever Francis had a panic attack, Yao was ready, either to hold him close and calm him down or giving him his space. Yao was so good at determining which one Francis needed.
Francis heard the front door slam, and he instinctively tensed. While his hand had healed, he could still remember the pain of having it placed on the hot stove. He started to recall more and more memories of the door slamming, followed by pain. A bad day. The door slamming was a sign of a bad day.
"Francis?"
Francis whimpered, hands clasping his hair as he sank to the ground, curling up in the corner formed by the counter.
"Francis!"
Francis gave a small sound when someone touched the back of his hand. He opened his eyes to see gold, not green.
"What happened?" Yao asked.
Francis released his grip on his hair, and Yao took him in his arms. Francis trembled, but Yao simply held onto him. After a while his trembling stopped, and he pulled back with a watery smile.
"D-désolé," Francis said. "I just… Did you have a bad day?"
"Not really," Yao said. "Why?"
"The door…"
Yao's eyes widened, and he rubbed Francis's shoulders.
"I got into a little argument with one of the neighbours," Yao said. "I'm sorry if I scared you."
Francis shook his head.
"It's fine," he said. "I'll be fine."
The prompt is: 'Imagine person A and B are best friends, but A is stuck in an abusive relationship with person C. (Maybe someone from your NOTP). B notices how differently A is acting and sees the scars and bruises appearing on them constantly, and wants to help. But A won't tell them what's happening, because C told them that if they let anyone know or tried to leave, they'd kill person B. After months of mistreatment, A finally stands up to person C, who seriously hurts them in response. A endures it, figuring that if they take most of C's anger, then B will be safe. C gets caught in act and when A wakes up, they're safe in the hospital with B by their side, holding their hand. A immediately breaks down and tells B everything that happened, and apologizes for being so secretive. B just holds them gently and tells A how brave they are for going through it all. A and B continue to be close friends and eventually, when A feels ready, they get together. A has a hard time adjusting, and tends to apologize a lot and get nervous around when it comes affection, but B takes things slowly, and makes sure to make A feel as loved and safe as they possibly can.'
And I continue the trend of a popular pairing being depicted as an abusive relationship. This time, FrUk. I could have gone with Rochu, but I'm trying to not give Russia those roles. Too cliché.