[Fanfic] Separation
Title: Separation
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Franada, France, Canada, England, America
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG..?
Warnings: All around fail?
Summary: France loses Canada to England.
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It was golden hair you could never forget. With blue eyes that stun those who looked in them. And when the male opened his mouth to speak, it was beautiful. One could only be stunned. That male was his savior, no more lonely nights in the tundra. It was the happiest day in the boy's life. Those two became very close, the small blond even received a name. Mathieu. He took it happily and grew into a young colony.
"Papa, it's lonely when you are gone.." The boy spoke in a hushed whisper, as if afraid to insult Francis. "Please don't leave anymore." Matthew buried his head into the older male's shoulder, fighting tears.
Francis didn't know what to say. He felt like the crying boy was his fault, so he wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him into his lap, gently petting the child's wavy blond hair. "Mon enfant..." Hearing the beautiful french, Matthew looked up. "I must, I need to keep things at bay back home." Francis's tone was quiet, like he didn't want to scare away a doe and it's fawn.
All the child did was nod, fighting the tears as he looked into the french man's eyes. Francis leaned over and pressed his lips to Matthew's forehead, the stubble on his chin tickling Matthew. "I must return home now."
Matthew sniffled and shook his head, he didn't want him to leave. "P-please don't.." A tear slowly rolled down the boy's cheek and it broke the older man's heart.
With out so much as a warning, Francis stood and walked to the door with Matthew in his arms. "I will return again." Another kiss was placed on the child's forehead and then he was placed on the floor. Francis left and didn't return for a while.
In Francis' leave, Matthew grew stronger. Learning to live with his people. And thanks to Alfred, the closest thing to a family he had, he had learned to sew and build stable towns. Though his number was few, he was living.
One day, an invasion occurred, Matthew was defenseless against this mass attacking him. It didn't take long before there was pounding on his cabin door. Still being a young child, Matthew whimpered and hid taking his stuffed bear with him. The foot steps on his wood floor echoing into the silence; almost as loud as the heartbeat in his ears and as quick as his breaths.
The door to his room flew open and the steps quickened, heading straight to his hiding spot. Matthew cowered with Kumajirou in his hands, on the verge of tears. When the door flew open, Matthew flinched and a sigh sounded. The boy peeked from his cowering position, only to stop breathing. What he saw made him extremely happy, tears of joy rolling down his dirty cheeks. "P-papa.." He whispered.
Francis took the boy in his arms and hugged him close, the beat up teddy bear between them. "Come, mon fils, we must go." All the crying blond could do was nod and cling to Francis's shirt.
They ran to the hills of Matthew's land, not stopping until they came across a small shack. Matthew like to sleep out there while Francis was gone. The tranquil surroundings calming him into slumber at night.
The shack was small, dirty, and dark. Matthew awoke as he was placed on the ground, the heat he was close to gone. His small hand shot out and grabbed Francis' pant leg. "D-don't leave me again.." Matthew's breath was shaking and he was ready to cry.
Francis nodded, "Never, mon enfant, never." The small hand on his clothing tightened and the boy buried his head into Kumajirou's fur. "Come now, where is the lantern?"
The hand was removed from his pant leg and pointed to a small table just tall enough for Matthew to reach. There was a small lantern and a box of matches. Francis walked to the table and lit the lantern, returning to Matthew's side. He set the lantern on the ground and sat on the tiny cot. He pulled Matthew into his lap and gently pet his hair, like it was any other visit.
In the dim light, Matthew looked around the cabin, he hadn't been here in a while. His small towns were tiring and he fell asleep quickly in his home. Suddenly, he wiggled out of Francis' lap and laid down so his head was in the other's lap, the teddy bear he once held laying next to the two. "I want to see you.." His soft voice was almost unheard. Francis only nodded and continued to play with the other's hair.
Though the light was dim, Matthew could look at the Frenchman and know it wasn't good. Mud was encrusted in his clothes. Francis' clothing was torn and he there was blood. From an old cut or a fresh one, he couldn't tell, but Francis didn't show that he was hurt. "You are hurt!" The child sat up and then proceeded to stand. In a small cubby, Matthew pulled out bandages and quickly returned to Francis. As Matthew started to pull off the other's shirt, something wet dripped onto his hand.
Curious violet eyes looked at the face he had etched into his mind. "Papa? What is wrong?" Worry was obvious in his tone, and written all over his childish face.
"Je suis désolé." Francis spoke between sobs.
"For what Papa?" Matthew's small voice was louder as it was masked with worry.
"Je suis désolé..Je suis désolé.." It was all he could say. There was nothing else he could say. He had lost. And he had lost the one thing he didn't want to lose most. Matthew. "Mathieu, Je suis désolé. I have lost." Francis shook his head.
All Matthew could do was stare at his father. "What have you lost?"
The boy was smart, and knew how to get to the point. Francis shook his head, his hands to grab the boy and brought him close. "You.." The man sobbed and buried his head into Matthew's shoulder, crying and whispering apologies in his ear.
Matthew just stood there, unable to do anything else. He was in shock. His body couldn't do anything as his father's words sank in. Then like the flash of lightening, he knew what that meant. A pained cry left the boy's lips. Matthew's knees gave out and his small hands clung to the man's shirt. Pain coursed through his body and tears ran down his cheeks. He didn't want to be given away, he only wanted Francis to visit him! He didn't care if nobody else did, or if he went back to the cold and lonely nights. As long as Francis stayed by his side he didn't care. Francis was all he wanted, all he cared for.
On the shacks roof, you could hear the pitter patter of rain, like the Gods felt his pain. As the two held each other, the rain worsened. Lightening lit the sky often, soon followed by thunder. Their murmurs were drowned out by the rain.
Matthew's tears stopped long ago, but he gave dry sobs and continued to hold the one he loved. "Papa, don't leave me!" He gave another sob. And then it was cold. He shivered and peeked over his shoulder to the door.
It was open, but the wind hadn't opened it. There, in the door frame, stood a short man with a glare on his face and bushy brows. "Frog! Give him here! You lost, now hand the boy over!"
Matthew shook his head. "Fight back Papa!" He cried into the man's shoulder again.
"Mon petit, I cannot." Gentle hands tried to pry the boy from his shirt. "Je suis désolé. I have no more men to fight." His voice was quiet in his ear. Foot steps sounded and a rough hand grabbed Matthew's night gown.
The impatient man at the door didn't seem to like their whispers. Matthew's hands tightened around the fabric and pulled Francis with him. "No! Papa! I don't wanna go!"
A chuckle came from behind him. "Seems like you will be a difficult little boy."
Francis pulled Matthew's hands to his mouth and kissed them. "Let go. Be a good boy and go with Arthur.." Matthew froze and with one last pull, he stumbled back against Arthur's legs. Francis handed the boy his bear and gave him one last kiss on the forehead. Arthur didn't allow much else as he took Matthew's free hand.
"Now, get off my land you bloody frog!" Arthur turned and dragged Matthew out with him. Tears glistened down his cheeks once more, "Papa!" It was the last thing he shouted before Alfred came to his side.
Matthew fell into the mud and cried into his bear. It was all he did that night. As he was brought into Alfred's house. As he was bathed and changed. He wouldn't eat nor would he talk, Matthew just cried and mumbled things about his Papa. He cried himself to sleep and in the morning just sat there at the table, hugging his bear. Nothing looked edible, so he didn't say a word and didn't touch a thing. His violet eyes were puffy and red from all of his crying, but he didn't care. He just sat there with Kumajirou and did his chores as they were given.
Arthur could be a mean man when he wanted, so, Matthew didn't think twice about doing them. If the Brit wanted to, he could give Matthew something to cry about, so, his tears stopped and his sobs lessened. Still no words--except 'yes', 'no', 'please', and 'thank you'--passed his lips. Why would he ever want to talk to the one person who took everything away from him? Matthew would never forgive him for that.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Franada, France, Canada, England, America
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG..?
Warnings: All around fail?
Summary: France loses Canada to England.
-----------------------------
It was golden hair you could never forget. With blue eyes that stun those who looked in them. And when the male opened his mouth to speak, it was beautiful. One could only be stunned. That male was his savior, no more lonely nights in the tundra. It was the happiest day in the boy's life. Those two became very close, the small blond even received a name. Mathieu. He took it happily and grew into a young colony.
"Papa, it's lonely when you are gone.." The boy spoke in a hushed whisper, as if afraid to insult Francis. "Please don't leave anymore." Matthew buried his head into the older male's shoulder, fighting tears.
Francis didn't know what to say. He felt like the crying boy was his fault, so he wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him into his lap, gently petting the child's wavy blond hair. "Mon enfant..." Hearing the beautiful french, Matthew looked up. "I must, I need to keep things at bay back home." Francis's tone was quiet, like he didn't want to scare away a doe and it's fawn.
All the child did was nod, fighting the tears as he looked into the french man's eyes. Francis leaned over and pressed his lips to Matthew's forehead, the stubble on his chin tickling Matthew. "I must return home now."
Matthew sniffled and shook his head, he didn't want him to leave. "P-please don't.." A tear slowly rolled down the boy's cheek and it broke the older man's heart.
With out so much as a warning, Francis stood and walked to the door with Matthew in his arms. "I will return again." Another kiss was placed on the child's forehead and then he was placed on the floor. Francis left and didn't return for a while.
In Francis' leave, Matthew grew stronger. Learning to live with his people. And thanks to Alfred, the closest thing to a family he had, he had learned to sew and build stable towns. Though his number was few, he was living.
One day, an invasion occurred, Matthew was defenseless against this mass attacking him. It didn't take long before there was pounding on his cabin door. Still being a young child, Matthew whimpered and hid taking his stuffed bear with him. The foot steps on his wood floor echoing into the silence; almost as loud as the heartbeat in his ears and as quick as his breaths.
The door to his room flew open and the steps quickened, heading straight to his hiding spot. Matthew cowered with Kumajirou in his hands, on the verge of tears. When the door flew open, Matthew flinched and a sigh sounded. The boy peeked from his cowering position, only to stop breathing. What he saw made him extremely happy, tears of joy rolling down his dirty cheeks. "P-papa.." He whispered.
Francis took the boy in his arms and hugged him close, the beat up teddy bear between them. "Come, mon fils, we must go." All the crying blond could do was nod and cling to Francis's shirt.
They ran to the hills of Matthew's land, not stopping until they came across a small shack. Matthew like to sleep out there while Francis was gone. The tranquil surroundings calming him into slumber at night.
The shack was small, dirty, and dark. Matthew awoke as he was placed on the ground, the heat he was close to gone. His small hand shot out and grabbed Francis' pant leg. "D-don't leave me again.." Matthew's breath was shaking and he was ready to cry.
Francis nodded, "Never, mon enfant, never." The small hand on his clothing tightened and the boy buried his head into Kumajirou's fur. "Come now, where is the lantern?"
The hand was removed from his pant leg and pointed to a small table just tall enough for Matthew to reach. There was a small lantern and a box of matches. Francis walked to the table and lit the lantern, returning to Matthew's side. He set the lantern on the ground and sat on the tiny cot. He pulled Matthew into his lap and gently pet his hair, like it was any other visit.
In the dim light, Matthew looked around the cabin, he hadn't been here in a while. His small towns were tiring and he fell asleep quickly in his home. Suddenly, he wiggled out of Francis' lap and laid down so his head was in the other's lap, the teddy bear he once held laying next to the two. "I want to see you.." His soft voice was almost unheard. Francis only nodded and continued to play with the other's hair.
Though the light was dim, Matthew could look at the Frenchman and know it wasn't good. Mud was encrusted in his clothes. Francis' clothing was torn and he there was blood. From an old cut or a fresh one, he couldn't tell, but Francis didn't show that he was hurt. "You are hurt!" The child sat up and then proceeded to stand. In a small cubby, Matthew pulled out bandages and quickly returned to Francis. As Matthew started to pull off the other's shirt, something wet dripped onto his hand.
Curious violet eyes looked at the face he had etched into his mind. "Papa? What is wrong?" Worry was obvious in his tone, and written all over his childish face.
"Je suis désolé." Francis spoke between sobs.
"For what Papa?" Matthew's small voice was louder as it was masked with worry.
"Je suis désolé..Je suis désolé.." It was all he could say. There was nothing else he could say. He had lost. And he had lost the one thing he didn't want to lose most. Matthew. "Mathieu, Je suis désolé. I have lost." Francis shook his head.
All Matthew could do was stare at his father. "What have you lost?"
The boy was smart, and knew how to get to the point. Francis shook his head, his hands to grab the boy and brought him close. "You.." The man sobbed and buried his head into Matthew's shoulder, crying and whispering apologies in his ear.
Matthew just stood there, unable to do anything else. He was in shock. His body couldn't do anything as his father's words sank in. Then like the flash of lightening, he knew what that meant. A pained cry left the boy's lips. Matthew's knees gave out and his small hands clung to the man's shirt. Pain coursed through his body and tears ran down his cheeks. He didn't want to be given away, he only wanted Francis to visit him! He didn't care if nobody else did, or if he went back to the cold and lonely nights. As long as Francis stayed by his side he didn't care. Francis was all he wanted, all he cared for.
On the shacks roof, you could hear the pitter patter of rain, like the Gods felt his pain. As the two held each other, the rain worsened. Lightening lit the sky often, soon followed by thunder. Their murmurs were drowned out by the rain.
Matthew's tears stopped long ago, but he gave dry sobs and continued to hold the one he loved. "Papa, don't leave me!" He gave another sob. And then it was cold. He shivered and peeked over his shoulder to the door.
It was open, but the wind hadn't opened it. There, in the door frame, stood a short man with a glare on his face and bushy brows. "Frog! Give him here! You lost, now hand the boy over!"
Matthew shook his head. "Fight back Papa!" He cried into the man's shoulder again.
"Mon petit, I cannot." Gentle hands tried to pry the boy from his shirt. "Je suis désolé. I have no more men to fight." His voice was quiet in his ear. Foot steps sounded and a rough hand grabbed Matthew's night gown.
The impatient man at the door didn't seem to like their whispers. Matthew's hands tightened around the fabric and pulled Francis with him. "No! Papa! I don't wanna go!"
A chuckle came from behind him. "Seems like you will be a difficult little boy."
Francis pulled Matthew's hands to his mouth and kissed them. "Let go. Be a good boy and go with Arthur.." Matthew froze and with one last pull, he stumbled back against Arthur's legs. Francis handed the boy his bear and gave him one last kiss on the forehead. Arthur didn't allow much else as he took Matthew's free hand.
"Now, get off my land you bloody frog!" Arthur turned and dragged Matthew out with him. Tears glistened down his cheeks once more, "Papa!" It was the last thing he shouted before Alfred came to his side.
Matthew fell into the mud and cried into his bear. It was all he did that night. As he was brought into Alfred's house. As he was bathed and changed. He wouldn't eat nor would he talk, Matthew just cried and mumbled things about his Papa. He cried himself to sleep and in the morning just sat there at the table, hugging his bear. Nothing looked edible, so he didn't say a word and didn't touch a thing. His violet eyes were puffy and red from all of his crying, but he didn't care. He just sat there with Kumajirou and did his chores as they were given.
Arthur could be a mean man when he wanted, so, Matthew didn't think twice about doing them. If the Brit wanted to, he could give Matthew something to cry about, so, his tears stopped and his sobs lessened. Still no words--except 'yes', 'no', 'please', and 'thank you'--passed his lips. Why would he ever want to talk to the one person who took everything away from him? Matthew would never forgive him for that.