"Be quiet Arthur!" He walked over, handed the money to the man, and grabbed Arthur by the wrist, dragging him to his truck. "Arthur, you don't have an option anymore. I'm helping you no matter what the fuck you say. I refuse to let someone I can help end up like my own brother, hanging himself so his little brother could find him!!!"

Arthur was to devastated to argue, he just sat there and sobbed, holding himself and shaking. "I can help myself...I can...I will...!" He was still crying. "Alfred is gone...he won't have to see it.."

"He would be devastated if he were to hear his big brother as gone.." Francis got in the car and drove toward his own house. "I know you say you can help yourself, but it's easier with someone to rely on... I know, you barely know me and I barely know you, but I want you to be okay..." He sighed. "Open the glove box. There's a picture in there beside tissues. Use as many tissues as you need then look at the picture."

Arthur continued to cry and got his tissues and wiped his eyes. He looked at the photo. "This is your brother?" He asked.

Francis nodded. "Nick was his name... Our parents died in a fire... And then he started to be a male prostitute to try to keep us in money..." He sighed heavily. "I went to a friend's house one night, and when I came home, I went in his room... And he was hanging there, cold, with a note in his hand..."

Arthur sniffed. "I-I'm sorry...I sent Alfred to stay with our uncle so he won't have to see this. My uncle wouldn't take me in."

"Then I will take you in Arthur... You can even bring Alfred back to you if you'd like.." He pulled up to his house and parked before getting out and walking to Arthur's door to open it. "You can take a shower and borrow some of my clothes for the night."

Arthur stepped out, embarresed by his own clothing. He felt naked and basically was. He walked into the house, still crying a little. "Who do you live with? Will they mind?"

"I won't mind in the slightest." Francis said, closing the door behind them. "This is my own home after all." He set his car keys in a bowl beside the door. "Let me show you to the bathroom so you can shower..."

Arthur followed silently, looking around as they walked through the house.

He stopped them in front of a room and he opened the door. Inside was a rather large bed with a fluffy comforter and four pillows. Beside that was a bedside table with a lamp, and a dresser on the opposite wall. "This will be your room..."

Arthur nodded and then turned to France. "so..um should I just take a bath now?"

Francis nodded. "Of course. Let me get you some clothes and a towel..." He walked down into his room and came back with a fluffy towel, sweatpants and a t-shirt. "Here you go.. You can use anything in the bathroom to clean yourself with."

He nodded and then stepped out to go into the bathroom. "Francis..? Thanks..." He said bash fully and stepped into the bathroom. He took his shower and then got ready for bed. He slipped under the covers and stared at the ceiling, not able to sleep.

"No problem.." Francis went about, cleaning up the minor things in his house before he simply fell asleep on the couch, exhausted by everything that had just happened. He was happy, however, that Arthur was no long in danger.

Arthur was still up at three in the morning. He was burning up, so he took off the sweatpants and just walked downstairs in the shirt. He didn't see France on the couch and he slipped outside, walking out into the backyard.

Francis jumped when he heard his back door open and looked out to see Arthur outside. He sighed and stood to get himself a glass of iced tea before going to his own room to wait to make sure Arthur came back in, without seeming prying or too overly worried.

Arthur say in the grass, crossing his legs and sobbing openly. This was such a hard time for him and he was so lost and alone. He felt like was a child again. It seemed like when his dad died, only this time, their was no comfort. There was no one to tell him there would be hope. Nonebof his family wanted him because he was the odd one. They belived he was a bad omen because of his unattractive eyebrows and inability to cook. They also didn't like his green eyes with the blonde hair. It wasn't even his fault that he was born the way he was.

Francis got worried still and went to the window again to see he was sitting on the ground. He opened the door and walked quietly out to him. "Arthur... I want you to know... If you need a shoulder to cry on... I've got two..." He knew that sounded terribly corny but, maybe it would earn a small smile. "May I sit with you, or would you like me to leave?"

He grabbed around Francis' legs and held his face there. He soaked his legs and cried on him. "I want you." He said quietly.

Francis managed to sit down and wrapped his arms around the crying boy. "I'm right here for you Arthur..." He rubbed the British teen's back softly. "I'm right here..."

He cried all over him for about thirty minutes and then fell asleep, breathing heavily.

When Francis felt him asleep, he picked him up carefully and walked him into the house and tucked him into bed before going to bed himself.

When Arthur woke, he got up and brushed his teeth before getting ready for school. He looked around for Francis. He went into his room and poked his cheek. "Wake up."

"Mmn...?" Francis woke to see Arthur above him. "Oh, Good morning Arthur..."