• Thanks for stopping by...Just a warning! This story is a bit of a tear-jerker, so grab a tissue!

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    Fear gripped the boy's chest as he ran as fast as he possibly could down that dark hallway, eyes clouded over by the black that surrounded them. Arthur huffed and puffed, too afraid to look back, fearing that the creature had snuck up behind them, even though they had run so fast to get away.
    It was as if every move they made, the creature was one step ahead, always knowing what they had planned. It was like it had clawed its way into their minds, feeding off every damned thought they came up with. Everyone was running so fast... And Arthur was exhausted, not able to keep up with the group. Giving a light cough, Arthur slowed his pace a bit, worrying the Frenchman, who grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled him along down the hall, giving him a comforting squeeze to keep him going. Of course, Arthur kept moving. He knew that he had to, even though he was exhausted.

    Sleep was a thing of the past for them... The mere thought of it was painful. Not one of them had been able to close their eyes since they had gotten there.
    And then Arthur felt it... A sharp pain to his side, causing him to pull to a stop, forcing the Frenchman to stop as well. Arthur coughed into his hand, shakily staring at a puddle of blood in his palm.

    The rest of their group was gone, not having realized that Arthur had stopped. Francis's eyes glanced around the dark hallway in a panic, a comforting arm around the Brit's shoulder's, heart racing.

    "Arzzur, we 'ave to keep moving..." He told him, jumping at a sound that echoed off the thin walls.

    Earlier, Arthur had saved Italy from an attack by the creature, using his magic to hold the thing still and fight him off. It had taken a lot of energy and now... Coughing again, louder and much more violently this time, Arthur leaned against Francis, who led him further down the hall, trying to keep the poor boy on his feet.

    Arthur's face was splotched with blood, most of it not being his. No, it was of their fallen members who couldn't run away fast enough. Matthew... Ivan...
    Francis, trying not to think about it, tried to be patient with the boy, not wanting to leave him behind. "Come on... We need to move, amour..." He whispered, immediately pulling to a stop as soon as he entered the next room. It was a clear, open room without many items surrounding them. But that creature stood in front of them, it's black eyes staring at the both of them as if they were a treat. Arthur could feel Francis quiver. Francis had been through enough already. He had seen images that no man should have to see once they had lost someone special to them. Jeanne. His beloved. He had seen so many forgotten memories of that beautiful woman that had brought him to tears... He had watched his friends fall... Blood covering his own hands as he attempted to save them. But he failed. He was a failure. He couldn't save a life...

    Until right now. Francis pushed Arthur behind him, blue eyes glaring at the monster as he tugged his sleeves up, revealing his arms as he got into a fighting stance.
    "Arzzur, I want you to run..." He told him softly, but the stubborn Brit reclaimed his spot by Francis.

    "No... I want you to run," He told the blond, who had spots of dried blood on his cheeks, his once shining hair now matted with his very own blood.

    "No! If you continue on like 'zis, you're going to exhaust yourself, amour!" But it was too late. The sound of Francis's pleads were drowned out by Arthur's chants, hands flowing around him neatly, conjuring up a spell to defeat the creature.

    Red and green swirled around his body, engulfing him in light as he shot the beam at the thing, causing the entire room to flash for a few seconds. Upon opening their eyes, Arthur fell to his knees, glad to see the empty space in front of him.

    Francis slid in front of Arthur, pressing a gentle hand to his shoulder, then to his neck and his face. Arthur managed a weak smile, "I got 'em..."

    Arthur had lived a decent life. Past the smoking, past the drinking, he was a lonely boy who didn't know his way in the world. A boy who relied on drugs and liquor to keep him sane. A boy who didn't know how it felt to love, or to be kissed. And suddenly... His vision left him too.

    Francis had been running to catch up with the others, exhausted Brit running behind him when all of a sudden, he tripped and hit the ground with a loud groan, causing Francis to panic once again.

    "Are you okay? We need to go...come on!"

    But Arthur couldn't go. The last bit of light he could see to brighten the halls was gone...

    "F-Francis... Who... Turned out the lights?" He whispered, hands pressing up against the boy's arm, trying to figure out what it was he was touching.

    "Mon ami, 'ze lights 'aven't dimmed... 'ow many fingers am I 'olding up?" He asked softly, bringing up three of his slender fingers to the Brit's face.

    Arthur didn't even look directly at Francis's face, nor at his hand...
    Francis dropped that hand and grabbed ahold of Arthur's chin, making him look towards Francis, tears already building in his eyes.

    "Arzzur... Please tell moi 'zat you can 'zee moi..."

    Arthur's cloudy, green eyes moved away from Francis's horrified blue ones, fear building up inside of him.

    "Azzur, damn it! I 'zaid look at moi!" He yelled, not letting go of his chin, terrifying poor Arthur, who searched every which way to find the boy's face.

    "I... I can no longer see..."

    Those words seemed to shoot Francis through the heart. It was as if a knife had dug through his chest and some a*****e had turned it like a key, forever locking up what was left of him. And then he snapped.

    "Azzur, do not say 'zat! You can 'zee moi, I know you can! 'Zo, pull your eyes over to moi!" He yelled, fingers grasping Arthur's shoulders, shaking him frantically, as if that was going to fix everything. Tears caressed his cheeks, washing away a bit of the dried blood, soft gasps escaping his lips as he tried to keep himself together. But Francis had already lost it, shaking and weeping in front of the Brit, who was confused on what was going on, but the sound of utter defeat scared him to no end.

    "Francis... Bloody hell, mate... Pull yourself together..." He pleaded, tears welling up in his own eyes as he reached for Francis, but fell over, thankfully being caught by Francis.

    "Do not cry, amour... I... I am 'zorry... I must 'ave... Freaked out or 'zomezing... But I promise you, I will restore your eyes..." Kissing his forehead gently, using his thumbs to wipe away the Brit's tears, Francis stood up and led Arthur down the hall, who stumbled into quite a few things.

    But to no avail... Francis couldn't find the rest of their group, and aggravation was slowly consuming him, causing him to shake in rage and Arthur could feel it. Squeezing his hand comfortingly, Francis wiped at his own eyes with his free hand, seeing that creature step into his path. And then another... And then another.

    Francis chuckled lowly, now having lost any sanity that was left. Mindlessly, he sniffled and picked up a gun on a fallen victim, opening it up to reveal one last shot. And he knew what to do with it.

    "Are we almost out? Have we found everyone?" Arthur asked positively as Francis watched all of the creatures gather around them. One by one, they moved closer, and Francis knew they were trapped.
    Using his knuckles to wipe at his eyes, Francis stepped back and gave a pained smile, leaning down to talk into the Brit's ear.

    "Amour... We 'ave found everyone..." Francis put the barrel of the gun against Arthur's head, trying his hardest not to start sobbing.

    "I want you to wave to Alfred... To Feli... Ludwig, Antonio..." Arthur waved at each creature, thinking they were everyone that Francis had named. Francis, close to breaking down now, managed a final smile, biting into his lip roughly.

    "And I want you to know, amour... 'zat I love you more 'zen anyzing else in 'zis world."

    Francis braved himself, sniffling for a moment before he gave the Brit a passionate kiss, full of lust and want as he pulled the trigger of the gun, blasting that silver dagger through both of their heads, ending the war for each of them; together and forever.