Francis felt the cold, dark water emerge around him. He glanced around in the murky water as he held his breath. He saw Arthur struggling against the bindings and swam towards the male, who's fight and determination slowly drained from him.

Francis grabbed the male who narrowed his eyes and then closed them, his life force seemed drained from him and Francis quickly grabbed the Brit and swam to the surface. The cold water pierced every angle of the male and Francis lifted Arthur's head out of the water before his and spotted a small, sandy beach that seemed fairly close by. 

This is going to be a long swim. Hang on Arthur.. Francis thought to himself as he began to paddle while holding Arthur. The coldness around the water darkened as they swam to the beach, the coldness intensifying with every paddle.

Don't give up.

Don't give up.

Francis thought to himself as his eyes began to wander and noticed a drifting plywood and on it, Arthur’s trusty sword. Looks like his sword had survived, he muttered to himself as he heaved the unconscious male onto the wood. His legs kicked out, propelling the plywood forward as he wanted to give up and give in to the water’s darkening call that called out like a siren to him. 

The beach began to grow and grow and the plywood and finally reached the comforting beach sand. Francis pulled the British-male off and pressed down hard on the male's chest, giving compulsions to the pirate. His eyes frowned lightly when he didn’t get a response and glanced down at the male’s lips. He took a sharp inhale and pressed his lips up against Arthur’s. Again. And again. And again. 

Arthur spat the water out in Francis’s face and hastily sat up, grabbing at the knife in his abdomen and let out a small wince. Arthur rubbed his sore eye and spit sand out of his mouth. Sand had collected to him like a parasite would to an organism.

Arthur glanced and then finally spotted Francis sitting alongside him, Francis' gaze held steady and then Arthur shifted away from Francis, obviously angry about what Francis had done.

“Great,” he muttered to himself. He kept his hand pressured to his abdomen and began to stand up, only to fall down to his knees and curl over his injury. “I’m stuck on the other side of St. Pierre with a bloody wanker.” 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Francis asked, his voice soft and quiet. "We are partners."

"For the last time — we aren't partners by law. You were just someone helping who shouldn't have been." Arthur stated simply, his voice grumpy and irritated, he glanced over at the Frenchman who’s bottom lip began to quiver. “You don’t know when to get a hint, do you?”

"But, that doesn't explain why you didn't tell me about your identity, or you saying goodbye before going off to England, you broke your promise — "

"My death was staged and I didn't go off to England. I pointed to the sea to make it seem like I went off to go back to England — if you were actually my partner, you would've known that I can't swim and hate the water which is why I'm stuck here!!" Arthur stood up, his voice raising a bit. Francis thought back to the time where Arthur’s eyes wouldn’t leave the turbulent sea and felt a pit grow in his stomach.

“Frankly, I wish I could go back to England so I am not stuck with a wanker like you.” Arthur’s black glove was stained red as his clothing sloshed behind him. He felt for his sword and noticed the plywood with his beautiful blade on it. He leaned down, groaning in agony as he picked it up. He turned his eyes back towards Francis who had decided to stand up as well. The death glare began to bother Francis as he couldn’t help but give into the temptation of arguing. 

"All this time I thought you were dead and you were actually... what? Scheming around and trying to play pirate —?" the Frenchman's voice began to grow cold. “All this time, I thought you were dead... when you weren’t? And about the scene with chopping the jagged piece of paper, was it all just a fabricated lie?”

"Don't even start there Francis!” Arthur’s voice raised within his voice box. “At least I'm an actual pirate unlike you—! You went out to pretend and get some glory! I KNOW you were using me to get what you wished, this has happened before." Arthur growled, his voice irritated and he lifted his hand pointing at the Frenchman. "You don't even know how to use a sword —! I went easy on you cause I could've killed you right there!" He winced at what he had done and placed his hand over his bleeding abdomen. 

Francis didn’t know how to open his mouth as his words gathered tightly around his throat. “You do have a point; however, I changed my goal.” Arthur raised a bushy eyebrow and only scoffed. 

“Yeah, sure. I remember the last time I heard someone use that phrase, I was dangling by my feet over the English channel,” Arthur ripped off a piece of his pants and tried to tie it like a bandage; however, his fingers kept slipping up and he quietly cursed under his breath. 

“Here-” Francis moved forward and only got an angry hiss. 

“No. YOU stay at that distance. I don’t want your help and I don’t want to see your face,” Arthur struggled to tie it once more and Francis crossed his arms, watching the frustrated male work began to bring a sneer to his venomous tongue. 

“Fine, then struggle. I can’t believe I…” Francis turned away from the male as Arthur threw the soaked rag. 

“If you’re so full of yourself, then you fix this.” Francis ignored the tone of the male’s voice, grabbing the fabric and tying it around the wound. He was so close to the male that he had to bite his lip from making some silly flirt. 

“There, was it that hard?” Francis asked the male who didn’t say anything back; however, Arthur did push the Frenchmale into the sand, resulting in sand to stick to the back of his wet clothing. Francis wanted to curse; however, he bit his tongue.

“Don’t think that just because you helped me that you’re off the hook,” Arthur muttered as his feet began to shift in the sand trying to uncover themselves so he could get up and walk. “This conversation is over.” 

“No,” Francis shouted, Arthur’s emerald green eyes veered towards Francis and he bared his teeth at him. 

“What do you mean no?” 

“This… This isn’t over…!” Francis stammered out as he lunged towards the male. “Killing isn't right — at least I didn’t kill innocent people trying to make a living! My actions may have been for self gain; however, I never harmed anyone in the process."

"And suddenly that makes you think you’re the better person? You don't have to kill someone to be bad.” Arthur muttered quietly to himself; however, Francis had overheard what Arthur wanted to keep to himself. “Because of you and what you did, innocent people are going to die -!" Arthur shouted the last part out, his legs storming upwards on the beach as he still clutched his abdomen, he hunched over and his head veered around as he stared at the quiet frenchmale who stopped when his radioactive eyes fell upon him. "I'm done with you, Francis."

"You make that sound like we're dating — !" Francis shouted after him and hugged his arms against his chest, his heart began to stop pounding as quickly as he held back tears that wanted to fall; however, he refused to show weakness in front of his friend. "Why would I ever want to date you anyways. You’re just a grumpy, irritated, no good ratface that thinks he is better than everyone else in every single way—!?" The words fell out harshly and that caused Arthur to stop in his tracks, his face towards the city instead of towards Francis and the sea.

"I have to fix the mistake you caused," Arthur replied. His voice was caked in monotone and Francis knew that he struck a sensitive area and in his gut, Francis felt the twinge of guilt that screeched he was being a bad friend. Francis cursed himself for saying that and then ran after Arthur, placing a hand on the Brit's shoulder and getting it swatted away.

"Iggy —" his adorable nickname fell out of his mouth that caused Arthur to spin on his heels in anger, his shoulders were scrunched upwards as he glared darkly. 

"It's Mr. Kirkland to you —!" Arthur snapped, his voice harsh and he bit his lip as if he were trying to think of something clever and witty to say next. “Just, leave.” 

"I… I can’t…” Francis responded softly as Arthur didn’t say anything, refusing to lock eyes with him. “I must know.” 

“Know what?” Arthur grumbled at Francis as he started to create distance between the two of them. 

“How are they the bad guys…?”

"Oh, now you want to insert your nose into my business, perfect." Arthur crossed his arms looking displeased. His body language had now turned away from Francis and he began to move again, while Francis' feet felt like they were glued in place; as if a million hands had wrapped themselves around his boots and wouldn't allow him to move.

"Ig— Mr. Kirkland, I want to fix the mistake I caused. I want our friendship to be repaired." Francis cursed himself for making it sound like the friendship was just something that could be taken to a mechanic to be fixed. Francis chased towards Arthur and felt an elbow to his face. He fell into the sand and glanced up at the silent pirate. 

Anger rose within him and he tackled Arthur down into the sand, he shoved his palms into Arthur’s shoulder and pinned him into the sand. 

“Get off me frog-!” Arthur spat, he kicked and wiggled under the Frenchman that only wanted answers. 

“I wanna help-!” 

“After what you did!?!?” Arthur tossed the frenchmale off of him and rolled on top of him, grabbing Francis’ necktie tightly as he shouted. “Yanno, I should’ve finished you off right then and there! That way I didn’t have to worry about being caught-!” 

Arthur straddled the frenchmale who tried to overturn the britishmale, only for his emerald green eyes to become blurry in his vision. “Why couldn’t you just stay out of it Francis? Why did you have to get involved? Why did you want answers for my staged death?”

“Sorry for caring.” his spat sand at the British male who wiped it off of his cheek. His bright emerald green eye narrowed; however, he said nothing as Francis's whined out towards the Britishmale. 

"I ruined this. I ruined our friendship. I ruined the safety of the town…" the reality began to sink in as the grip on his tie began to release. Francis still had his arms tightly on Arthur's as Arthur didn't say anything and silence filled the area between them. Arthur glanced down at Francis and only sighed, mumbling something inaudible. Without warning, Francis grabbed Arthur’s jabot necktie and brought his face close to his, almost close to kissing the male. 

"Please. Let me make this right Kirkland. I don’t want to fight you. You're my best friend, I wanna make this right, between us."

"Why do you care so much about our broken friendship? Why do you care so much about...?" 

"...About you?” Francis quipped up when Arthur’s voice trailed off, unable to finish the last word. Francis knew he couldn’t outright say what he wanted to say, so he decided to leave that part out. “Even though you were a snot," Francis's hands gripped the back of Arthur and pressed his body to his in a tight hug. "Nobody had given me the chance. Nobody knew me and the more I talked to you…" Francis trailed off, fidgeting with his damp clothing. His heart screamed a melody that it wished it could sing; however, it was denied its request. 

Arthur didn't respond right away, his eyes burning right through Francis' heart and then it happened. Arthur got off of the male and offered his hand towards the frenchmale. He didn’t have a smile nor a frown on his face as he didn’t say anything. Francis took the hand that the gentleman offered him and heaved himself up. Arthur was hunched over as he knotted his hands with Francis’, this time Francis allowed himself to follow the shorter male. 

"Follow."

Arthur led Francis down back towards the sandy beach and found a spot that seemed isolated from the city. Arthur sat down on a rock as Francis sat down on the sand, preferring something a bit more comfier than a rock to sit on.

"I don't know why I am going to tell you this…" Arthur mumbled as he sighed, glancing off. Something was clearly on his mind and Francis leaned forward in the sand, his voice soft and in a flirt,

"Because you love me —?"

"You think I would ever belittle myself to someone like you —?" The tone of his voice was harsh and angry. The male was in no mood for jokes to be made; furthermore, Francis bit his lip as he decided to get on the male’s nerves anyways. Like old times. Francis stood up and motioned his hands down and up his body , his flirty voice turning into a bit of a mock. "Angry because you can't have alllllllllllllll this —~?"

Arthur didn't say anything and only rolled his eyes, clearly not surprised that Francis would stoop that low and make a joke like that. "Ha ha, I'm shaking in my boots." Arthur muttered and then grabbed a stick and began to draw something on the beach. "I steal from those boats because they've stolen stuff from suffering people in England trying to make a living. I lived in the poor section where these goons would steal from my people.” 

Francis didn’t say anything as Arthur picked up again. “I send them back every month and getting a date would help by alibi, even though I had no romantic attraction towards Brittney.” 

“So all that fashion stuff was for nothing…?” Francis whispered as Arthur shot him a glance. 

“I liked the suit we picked out for me,” he murmured quietly as he jumped back onto the topic. “I almost missed the ship that was going back to England and that is why I faked my death. If you could've waited more hours, I would've stopped by your home." 

The thought of waiting and him showing up brought a small hue to his face. Why would he do this? He had so many unanswered questions as they finally fell out. "Why did you fake your death? Why didn't you tell me —?" A hurt expression had moved itself onto Francis' face as Arthur only scoffed, noticing.

"Don't get butthurt frog. I don't trust a lot of people. Especially since you were working for Hunter and Hooke."

"How do you know their names ..?" It was stupid of a question for Francis to ask, but he was willing to take Arthur making fun of him. Even more questions had emerged in his mind and Arthur finally spoke after what felt like years of waiting,

"I have tabs and inside sources. I was planning on striking down on the leader of this whole thing but this incident happened."

"I'm so sorry —" Francis felt like a jerk and that his stomach had been pierced by the sharpest sword.

"It's not your fault." Arthur simply stated through gritted teeth. The tone of the male had made Francis feel even more guilty as his purple eyes turned away. This is close to an apology that I will get.

"I can help you Arthur."

"Yeah, by staying out of my way." Arthur stood up and then dusted off the dirt he had collected. His uniform was still sogging with water, which made Arthur's movements feel clumsy and a bit cute.

"Why — I can be useful ...! I'm not some screw up that you think I am !" Francis moved in Arthur's way and wouldn't allow the male to move forward.

"I never called you that —!" Arthur hissed and then watched as Francis would mimic any movement he would do to make sure this argument would continue to grow and grow.

"What are you so worried about —? I can take care of myself!" Francis let out a small pout that seemed to push Arthur over the edge in anger.

"I'm not worried about some frog like you — !" Arthur hissed, his voice snake like as he stood face to face with the taller male.

"You're making me sound like a child, you pansy — !" Francis responded, crossing his arms in a matter of fact way.

"You're making yourself sound like a child, don't blame this on me —" Arthur growled and Francis decided to push Arthur backwards, which caused the Brit to dive right towards the sand, his body hit a rock and he laid there for some seconds, grabbing his wound. 

"I'm sorry—"

That statement caused the Brit to snap. "What point of I'm trying to protect you that you don't understand —? I don't want you getting hurt and that's why I didn't kill you last night and decided to choke you instead. The time I cut your cheek, I wanted you to stop searching and stop caring, but no. You had to ruin everything and get in the aim of fire —! I should’ve killed you on the first night when I met you!"

Francis felt the scar on both his cheeks and glanced at the British male who was telling him about the insecurities he had.

"I wasn't strong enough to strike you in any sensitive areas, but if you get in my way again—" Arthur pointed his finger at Francis and began to shake. "I don't know what I'll do." 

"Arthur ... I —"

"Just shut up Francis —!!" Arthur yelled and glanced down at his feet. Francis thought he saw a few tears drop from the darkness of the moon. Arthur clutched his wound and stood up, slamming his fists into Francis’s shoulder hard at first and then began to grow softer. 

“Is it so much to ask…?!?” Arthur began to quiver intensely as Francis didn’t say anything at first, his stubbornness refusing to let Arthur do it alone. 

“I can’t let you do this alone Arthur. That would be suicide!” Francis responded back. “I refuse to allow you to do this alone. I care about you all too much for you to do that. Why do you think I didn’t believe you were dead? Why do you think I came out of a brothel and tried to find you?” 

“You were at a brothel?” Arthur asked him. The emotion in his voice was clear as Francis only shrugged. 

“I didn’t insert my-” 

“Okay okay. Enough of that,” Arthur quipped up, interrupting the male as he didn’t want to hear about any sexual tale. Silence surrounded the two of them as Francis began a conversation up again. 

“Why I asked the pirate on the boat where you had gone and if you were dead was because I care about you. You’re my best friend Arthur. You gave me a chance to do some good and I… I blew it, didn’t I?” Francis pondered at the end as Arthur didn’t say anything in return. Francis began to continue as he felt his feelings spilling out of his heart. “I wanted to be close to you. To know you. To be around you and I guess I turned out to seem like a clingy asshole huh?”

Arthur began to mutter something quietly to himself and kept his eyes fixated on Francis. Arthur’s hands flexed upwards into a fist and relaxed every few seconds as Francis knew that something was about to spill.  

“Pardon?” Francis quietly whispered as Arthur eyed him, closing his eyes shut and then repeated what he said. 

“I refuse to allow you to come with me. I’d rather die than-” 

“I should come, someone has to have your back! We are partners!” Francis whined as that was the last straw for the Englishman. Arthur exploded as he shoved Francis into the sand and stared down at him. 

"I don't want to lose you Francis, okay? Is that so much to ask?? I've never had anyone care about me, not even myself, but..." Arthur fell to his knees, placing his hands out in front of him and keeping his head towards the sand as tears dripped down into the yellowish, soft sand. 

"Arthur I...'' Francis glanced down and crouched down next to the crying Brit who didn't want to lock eyes with the frenchmale. His head kept snapping to the side, which caused Francis' heart compressed as he had acted so.. so irresponsibly and how he didn't want to listen to Arthur's real motives and kept pressing him over the edge.

Francis shagged Arthur's hair in a soft, caring way and without thinking, planted a kiss on Arthur's forehead. Francis sat down beside the male and gave him a soft push into his side. Arthur buried his head into the Frenchman's side, whispering; "I don't wanna lose you." 

When the light finally reached the sandy beach, Arthur's gurgles to keep his tears down slowly faded as the male gained a bit more confidence to stand up and kept a steady gaze with Francis. 

"Please stay out of this…" 

"I can't promise you that Arthur—"

Arthur cut him off with a mixture of sadness and anger in his voice. "Just promise me this one simple thing! Just say… you’ll stay out of this.” 

“Arthur, I… what about you?” 

“What about me?” he responded darkly as he turned away from Francis and back towards the woods and the town in the distance. 

“I don't want you getting hurt since I don't know where I will be without you,” Francis hurdled outwards towards the Brit who stopped in his tracks. “You’re my best friend. You may be sick of me; however, I’ll never be sick of you.” 

“I guess we’re in the same boat then, huh?” Arthur muttered outwards as those words caused Francis' heart to beat a hundred miles an hour.