(( officially on page two! >u< ))

"I know, but I thought you really needed to see-" Francis tried to explain, but was interrupted as Antonio dropped his bags and tossed his passport to the floor, stripping off his jacket even as he rushed over to Gilbert. He threw his arms around his friend, pulling him into a rib-crushing hug. "Gilbert, mi amigo, te eché de menos, I missed you, I missed you!" He exclaimed, grin cracked from ear to ear even as he buried his face in Gilbert's shoulder.

"Jerk," he muttered before turning to Antonio. "Ah I know you did just-" Gilbert squeaked as he found the life squeezed out of him. Okay, bad metaphor of choice, but it was damn annoying how Antonio could always do that. Gilbert caught Francis' eyes and mouthed, 'help me!', over his shoulder. Because he really did need to breathe. Still, he returned the hug with as much strength before trying to pry his friend off of him.

Antonio finally pulled away from the hug as Gilbert started to struggle. "Lo siento, I just- we thought you were gone, Gilbert." He said, sighing out a week's worth of pent-up nerves. "Do you know what happened? Why you're still here?" He asked as he removed his jacket in full and draped it over the back of the couch.

Francis winced at the insult- he deserved it, honestly, but he stood by his decision. While it might have been what Gilbert wanted at the time, it certainly wasn't what he needed, and he doubted Antonio would forgive him if he had left him in the dark. "You're glad I called him, and you know it," He called as he slipped into the kitchen to make breakfast- for three, apparently.

Gilbert groaned and stumbled back to lean against the couch as he gasped for breath. After shaking his head, he pulled on his shirt and accidentally dislodged the charm from where it got lost under his shirt. The bag of odd smelling things tied with a gold cord looked out of place on him, but at least there was an afterscent of rose to it. At this point, he forgot all about it though.

"Uh...I came to ask Francis. Kinda haven't come up with a good answer yet since I don't believe in miracles." Sure at some point he and God had a real great thing going there, but lately, Gilbert didn't give the guy much credit. If anything good happened to him, it was because he made it for himself. After following Antonio into the kitchen, he gave Francis one last dirty look. "Be glad I need your food."

"Be glad I'm willing to cook for you," Francis teased, picking at the eggs he was making with a spatula. Truth be told, it was rare he let anyone else cook in his house- he'd made that mistake with Arthur too many times.
"Hey, Gilbert?" Antonio asked from where he sat on one of the counters. "What's that around your neck?" He gestured to the little cloth pouch on a string that rested against Gilbert's chest. He wondered how he hadn't noticed it earlier; maybe he'd had it tucked in? It looked like one of the little coin purses that they used to carry around in the early eighteen hundreds, but smaller and marked with what looked like celtic runes around the hem of the fabric.
Francis looked over his shoulder at the Prussian- yes, he was wearing a little pouch on a cord. "That looks like one of Angleterre's charms," he remarked.

"Huh?" Gilbert looked down to see what Antonio gestured to. The pouch swung on his neck and he stopped it to give the thing a good inspection. By some miracle, it hadn't fallen apart or gotten lost. Or not miracle...just Gilbert skill. Yeah. "Arthur gave it to me. Said it might save my life. You don't think it really...? Because I don't believe in magic either," he muttered, still turning it this way and that. He sniffed it, cringed, and dropped the thing to hang freely. As grateful as he might be, he didn't know if he could handle England's magic of all things saving his life. It was preposterous!

Francis and Antonio both looked at each other, and then back at Gilbert and his pouch- they'd both been around a lot longer than Gilbert, and, consequently, had both been around Arthur just as long. While the Englishman's magic never did what it was supposed to, it always had done something- usually to a disastrous effect. "Honestly, if Arthur gave you that, I'd expect you to go up in flames," Francis said, still studying it.
"I know it sounds silly, amigo," Antonio started, "but I wouldn't cross it off the list just yet."

Gilbert glared at Francis before shoving the charm back under his shirt. "Well I'm not on fire so that obviously didn't happen!" he retorted. A second later, he deflated and rubbed his head. What was he doing getting angry over an opinion he shared? Arthur's magic only went right when he used it for something shady. But he was alive right? This didn't make any sense. He wandered over to a chair and plopped down.

"I think my head is going to break..." he whined before dropping it onto the table.

"Hey, hey," Antonio slipped off the counter, pulling up the chair beside Gilbert and placing a hand on his back. "It's okay, we're going to figure this out! We don't know what it is yet; that charm could have had nothing to do with it. We're just tossing around ideas, ok?" He comforted. He hadn't realized this was going to stress Gilbert out so much- personally, he was just glad his friend was around! Although not knowing why was... uncomfortable, he supposed.
Just then, Francis swept into the dining room carrying three plates on a serving tray in one hand and a couple of beers in the other. He placed all of it on the table in front of Gilbert and Antonio. "Scrambled eggs with sausage," He said, sitting down. "Eat, and then we can talk. You need it."

Gilbert sighed under Antonio's touch. He hated to admit it, but the hand comforted him. When Francis placed the food down, he lifted his head. The second he caught sight of the food though, Gilbert was up and snatching his plate close. "Oh god, that smells good!" he exclaimed and started digging in barely after he finished speaking. After a couple bites, he eyed the bottles with a roll of his eyes. "Beer in the morning? That's bad even for us." With a snort, he pulled one close though, promising to open it as soon as he finished devouring his first plate of food. He'd hardly complain because it felt like Francis read his mind.

Francis shrugged. "Eh, it's almost noon," he said, before tucking in. He merely picked at his food- while he certainly lauded himself on his cooking, he had the good grace and table manners not to inhale his breakfast- but he certainly appreciated Antonio and Gilbert's appetites. He was glad he'd made extra. "If I didn't know better, I'd guess neither of you had eaten for a month," he said, popping open the cap of his beer on the corner of the table.

Gilbert opened his beer and took a swig. It was almost noon? Since when? Shrugging, he went back to eating and soon finished off his plate. "I don't know about this guy," he said, jerking his thumb at Antonio. "But I seriously haven't had crap to eat since the last meal you cooked me. Seconds?" He shoved his empty plate over to Francis in a rather rude gesture, but then, that was how he was. And it felt so good to act anything remotely like himself. After this breakfast and beer, he could go for a shower and maybe then everything would be alright.

"I just really love your food," Antonio shrugged.

"Merci." Francis said, giving a facetious, flamboyant sort of bow as he stood. He took Gilbert's plate- and his own- and walked back towards the kitchen. "Good to know your table manners haven't improved since then," he teased, leaving his plate in the sink to deal with later and adding more to Gilbert's before bringing it back.
Francis sat back down and idly sipped his beer. He really appreciated seeing Gilbert a little looser, more like himself- he knew calling Antonio had been the right decision; if that man could work the kinks out of Lovino Vargas he was fairly certain he could relax a brick wall without breaking a sweat. But no matter how calm Gilbert was now, they still didn't have any sort of answer- Francis found his gaze drawn back to the charm around his friend's neck. That really was their only lead now, wasn't it?

"My table manners are fine," Gilbert threw at Francis with a dirty look. The three of them finished off the rest of breakfast in relative peace and by the time Gilbert finished his beer, it was well past noon. He decided to be nice to Francis and put his own plate in the sink before pausing to just kinda stare at smile at his friends for a second. For once, Francis did right because it felt so natural to have the three of them together again. Unconsciously, he twirled the charm before turning to go. "I need a shower. Be back in a bit." With that, he left the other two alone in the kitchen.

Francis nodded in acknowledgement, waiting until he heard the muffled drum of the water on the shower wall from down the hallway before turning to Antonio. "Espagne, I don't know what to think." He said, quietly. "I know I should be glad Gilbert is still with us, and I am- but something about that charm worries me."
Antonio 'hmm'ed in agreement, his finger absently tracing over the lip of his bottle as he puzzled. "I'd say it worries him, too." He said. Gilbert's earlier outburst had been, while not uncharacteristic, certainly disquieting. Antonio couldn't comprehend how conflicting it must have been; to be alive and not know why. "Do you think we should call Arthur?"
"As soon as we can talk to Gilbert about it." Francis affirmed. "I just hope Arthur didn't make it worse, somehow."

Any plans to call Arthur would have to be put on hold when just five minutes after Gilbert started his shower, the doorbell rang. On the other side, a very disgruntled and shoddily dressed Arthur tapped his foot. He'd spent a good portion of his morning pacing in the kitchen after extra burning--complete with foot tall flames--his breakfast. Clearly he could not let this go, so here he was.

"Open the damn door, Francis! If you're bloody just moping in there, I'm going to kick this down!" he yelled. His own guilt felt ready to bubble over and he really did not want to say his spiel in public. So someone better open the door so he could charge in and explode with it there.

Francis jumped at the doorbell- and the shouting right after. "I guess we don't need to call him," Antonio remarked as they both got up to answer the door.

Francis unlatched the door and opened it, arms crossed on the defensive because Arthur looked absolutely irate. What reason did he have to be so angry? As far as the rest of the world was concerned, he had just lost a very dear friend, and this kind of outburst was, honestly, incredibly rude. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Angleterre?" Francis asked, deadpan and leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe.

Arthur jumped a bit to find Antonio also there, but then, he should have expected that. Charging inside, he kicked the door closed behind himself. Just one look at Francis' expression made him lose it. "I'm sorry! It's all my fault" he yelped before he could stop himself. He didn't come here to apologize--okay, he really did, but not so overtly. His words made him turn bright red, but once he started talking, everything else came tumbling out.

"I could have saved him, even though we weren't really friends and I don't care about his friends either, but I thought I might as well! Damn it all, I screwed up my magic though! The charm...I feel awful, but I gave him the wrong one!" Arthur thrust out the charm he found on his floor and damn near let out a sniffle.

Just as he fought back a sob, his arms shaking where they still held out the charm, he lifted his eyes to find Gilbert walking around the corner, a hand combing through his wet hair. Every bit of guilt and sorrow vanished in a cloud of anger. "What the bloody hell are you doing here for?!!"

"Arthur, what are you talking about-" Francis took the charm from the Englishman's outstretched hands, turning it over in his palm. It looked nearly identical to the one Gilbert had been wearing earlier- what mistake could Arthur have possibly made that would make him this upset? He almost felt bad for how torn up he was; he supposed he should tell him he hadn't been that far off-base-
But Gilbert did the reveal for him, and as Arthur snapped at him, Francis found his empathy drained. "Arthur, could you stop having a hissy fit in my parlor and actually explain something?" He demanded.

"H-how c-can? He....it...just," Arthur stammered as he pointed his finger at Gilbert. How dare he show his face after Arthur went and bared his soul. This did not make sense.

Gilbert kinda just shrugged one shoulder in response. "Yo?" He heard so much commotion earlier that he just put on pants and wandered out, still wet from his shower and he regretted it now.

Still bright red in the face, Arthur turned to look at Francis and Antonio, trying to understand this travesty. "But...the charm I gave him shouldn't have worked. I...don't understand. That one...wait, let me see what I gave you," Arthur demanded at Gilbert, holding out his hand. "Damn it, I did not come here to find this!"

Feeling incredibly confused by this all, Gilbert hesitated. "But it did. What if I die when I take it off....?"

"Oh don't be a baby! It doesn't work that way!" He wagged his hand again and Gilbert finally passed over the charm which Arthur wandered off with to inspect.

Francis huffed and followed Arthur to- where was he going?- trying to get him to slow down and, perhaps, explain something instead of weeping in his parlor and stealing potentially life-saving charms from his friends. "Arthur, what is so special about that purse?" He demanded. "If it worked, what does it matter?"

As Francis ran off, Antonio breathed a sigh of relief. "Honestly, amigo, I don't know how Francis puts up with him the way he does." He said quietly to Gilbert. He paused for a moment, and then, "Do you think it worked, then? The charm." He asked.

"What does it matter?!" Arthur snapped, barely looking up to give Francis a glare before he went back to murmuring over his charm. "You don't want to know what this magic did and why it saved your friend's life? Because this is not the one I made for him. This was...this was an unfinished project from earlier in the year," he finally determined. He tossed that aside though because he never got it to allow everyone else to see his fairy friends. What it could possibly have done that would affect Gilbert this way, he had yet to determine.

Gilbert watch the others talk with a half wary, half confused expression. He had to agree with Antonio. This situation warranted sighing. "I don't know. He's a great drinking buddy though," he noted, not really paying attention to Antonio though. He kept his eyes fixed on Arthur, more on edge than anyone to know the magic's secrets. "But yeah, I guess I do think it worked....somehow."