Arthur sat in his home, tears flowing in a steady stream. Having his brother brought up had been so very painful. He held himself in a little ball, only wishing He had someone to hold him and remind him he wasn't alone. Unfortanantly, he was alone in this.

The next day, Francis used his connections in the embassy to get the address of Arthur. He didn't plan on visiting him. If he had forgotten him, he had forgotten him, and he couldn't change that. He, however, wrote the address and directions to get to Alfred's grave, along with a note stating that it was only so he could see his brother's final resting spot. He sent the letter with a courier who was already on his way to England to deliver letters from France to the United Kingdom, so Arthur should be getting it the next day. Francis used today to replace the flowers and to clean any dirt off of the tombstone.

Arthur got the letter and made an immediate trip to France. The young man went to the grave only when he saw no one else, early in the morning when the sun hadn't even risen. He had his body guards leave him, and he collapsed beside the grave, laying face down on the earth and sobbing. He could remember that he'd been fighting with Alfred the day he'd been killed. They'd beneath someone's house. He couldn't remember who.

Francis could only hope that Arthur had gone to the grave that day... He didn't want to lurk around and wait for him. He knew Arthur needed that on his own terms. He truly only had one last thing he wanted to say to the Britain, and he guessed, he could just finally move on completely.

Arthur cried from sunrise to sunset, his caretakers checking on him ever do often. When he was done crying, He left flowers and a little British flag. "Farewell dear brother." He said softly and pulled on his coat. His face was smudged with dirt and grass stains, mixed with tears. His eyes were puffy and red, his face was pale, and blonde hair stuck up in every direction. He was sure he looked like hell as he got ready to exit the graveyard.

Francis spent all day, going over countless times what he would say. No matter how he put it though, it sounded absolutely terrible, but it had to be said. He hoped that, maybe seeing the grave might've triggered him to remember everything Francis had done, but that was a looooong shot.

Arthur had to spend the night in France since another conference would be held here soon. He sighed and walked back to the hotel, going to his room and laying to sleep. The next morning he decided to just walk around Paris, not knowing what else to do.

Francis roamed Paris with his friends, all but himself enjoying the bright sky and nice weather. There was plenty of time before the conference, but still, Gilbert and Antonio had come early to try to get him out of his funk. It wasn't really working, especially since the Bad Touch Trio, as they had been called before Arthur came along, just couldn't be the same until Francis was normal once more. They kept trying still though, trying to cheer him up.

Arthur stopped by a house as they were walking. It was Francis' house from when they'd both been boys in school. That whole year of memories flooded his mind all at once. "Francis..." He muttered and his men worried. "Francis sir?" He nodded. "Please, send him this letter." Arthur took a piece of paper and wrote a note that explained he'd remembered, was sorry he'd forgotten, and wanted Francis to take him away and love him forever. He knew that wasn't the kind of note an adult male should send to another man, but he couldn't help it. The note was delivered to one of Francis house hold servants to give to him when he came back to his home.

After an entire day of roaming Paris, the three friends finally returned to Francis' house. His house servants had left the note on his dresser, but he didn't notice. He simply just flopped in bed and pulled the covers over his head. He missed Arthur even more now that he knew he was alive, and it hurt worse to know he had been forgotten.

Arthur's men were rather worried about him. As the day went on, he'd become increasingly more shaken, and slightly..nicer. Arthur had been nothing but mean for the time that his men had known him, and it frightened them to think he might be changing. His maids bathed him and readied him for bed. He wasn't going to be at the meeting tomorrow, and instead his substitute would go to represent him. His caretakers had made that decision since he was acting so oddly.

The next day, Francis was ready to see Arthur and speak to him once more. However, when he arrived, there was a different dignitary in his place. "Of course... I scared him off..." Francis sighed and took his seat.

Arthur snuck his way out of the house the second his maid's back was turned. He ran back to the conference and knocked ever so lightly on the door to the room. Once answered, he marched right in. "Arthur!" One of the servants who'd been watching over his replament exclaimed and Arthur walked over, making a motion for the man to stand and move. He did and Arthur say, refusing to answer and questions.

Francis watched as Arthur came in and sat down. He was fascinated by the fact that he had even shown up. He still resolved to speak with him, but now he felt nervous as hell.

Arthur stared coldly at most of the room, his eyes softening when they got to Francis. His eyes stayed there the rest of the meeting.

Francis simply just looked at his notes, embarrassed when he caught Arthur looking at him. Surely Arthur had to hate him now... And who could blame him?

When it ended, Arthur got up and went to Francis and embraced him with no explanation.

Francis jumped in surprise, then put his arms around the other man. "Arthur...? Why the sudden...?" The Frenchman thought the Britain hated him.

Arthur leaned up and kissed him. "Francis..." he mumbled

Francis' eyes widened at the kiss, as he's sure many of the other dignitary's eyes widened as well, but he didn't care. "Arthur? D-Do you... Do you remember me....?"

"Yes...o my god...yes..." He kissed him again, tears flowing down his cheeks. People were staring in awe, some in horror. "I love you Francis..."

Francis held Arthur close to him like he had before he lost him, tears falling from his own eyes. "I love you too, Arthur... God, I've missed you..." He kissed the top of Arthur's head.

Arthur didn't want to break away from this embrace, so he just stood there and let Francis hold him. "please. I don't want you to ever let go..."

"I never want to... Last time I did, I lost you..." He stroked the Englishman's head softly. "I don't want to lose you ever again, mon cher..."

Arthur nodded. "And I don't ever want to lose you, love." He snuggled farther into the embrace and heard someone clear their throat. It was his main butler. "Sir. Shouldn't you be at home resting?" Arthur smiled. "Only if Francis can come."