The Britishmale bristled as the figure stalked over towards the crew and rested his arm upon Francis's unmoving shoulder. The Brit wanted to hit the male SO HARD that he felt the edges of his fingers twitch in anticipation. How dare he come back after all this time and wreak havoc upon these poor islanders lives.

He doesn't care, he did this in Britain. He clenched at himself... Quite naive of him to think his dear old brother wanted to change after all this time.

"Did you have to bring the loser's club with you? I was really hoping for this to be between big brother and younger brother," the Scottish male whistled as he placed his stroking hand underneath Francis's chin. "I have been VERY kind. Don't worry."

"Leave everybody out of this, Scott. Nobody deserves to be twisted up in your devious game except you and I." He felt himself rush forward ONLY for the male to softly slid a dagger that threatened to take Francis' life.

He would take it too. His feet halted in their tracks.

"But how you brought Francis into it!" Scott pressed as Arthur's eyebrows burrowed deeper and deeper. "Furthermore, I didn't bring any one of those misfits into this. You did."

"I did not! He wanted to find out who was the pirate stealing and thieving and YOUR MEN dragged him into this. Could've let him go but you didn't. For what? For WHAT!" he exploded in anger, his hands flung down to his side as Scott watched, unflinchingly. A giant smirk carved itself onto the male's pale complexion.

"Because he would bring me what I want. You." He felt his heart stop beating like a drum in his chest. Arthur felt the edges of his eyebrows quirk down as silence swirled all around them. His hand settled on the hilt of his blade.

Seconds felt like minutes. Insufferable minutes. Francis had shut his eyes so tightly to hide the tears that poured; however, his body began to quiver as Scott placed his other hand in the male's knotted, grime-infested hair. Nobody moved. Said anything... The silence felt like a dead weight.

Alfred coughed, breaking the silence as he straighted up afterwards. "Please continue on, I don't like the message and vibe I am getting from you," Alfred insisted as the two Kirkland brothers shot a glare at Alfred. "This atmosphere is really bumming me out."

"If your shit stain of a friend can't get his mind out of the gutters, fine. It's the gentleman way," Scott rolled up his black gloves as his eyes rolled. "He was the only way I could manipulate you to come down here. So I could kill you."

"Quite harsh, quite harsh," muttered Alfred.

"CAN YOU SHUT UP AND STAY OUT OF THIS CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWO BROTHERS FOR THREE SECONDS??" Scott roared as Alfred gave a shrug. His blue eyes were... Off in the distance.

"Arthur took me in and adopted me when my parents had abandoned me on this island," the enthusiasm in his voice died. "If Arthur is your brother, then I am your brother as well. You won't get away with ANY of this, you living piece of shit."

"Watch me." Scott hissed as he snapped his fingers, moving away from Francis. Francis jumped from his statue-still pose and rushed with his sword drawn. Arthur barely had time to react and felt the shining blade pierce through his left cheek.

He fell back, drawing his sword and heard the clink of Francis's blade colliding with his. He jumped back as a giant wave of pirates rushed through the tunnels. He heard Ludwig shout: "fighting time" and slide out a golden edged blade.

"What happened to the gun??" Alfred gasped as Ludwig only gave the American a deadpan stare.

"I only have one bullet."

"Wooooow. REAL responsible, bartender."

Francis's blade almost made contact once again, snapping the Brit back to his fight. He had never seen such unburdened determination upon Francis' cold, lifeless eyes.

Think, if I was Francis, how would he bring me back... He wouldn't but he'd try being a smug bastard. Ugh! Even my thoughts wanna embrace him. Arthur struck Francis's shoulder and let out a roar of determination, only to realize he tore through flesh.

"Oh jeez, I am sorry, you're not the enemy, you're only brainwashed to act like my enemy but you aren't," Arthur blabbered as Francis aimed his blade down towards Art's... "parts." Francis horribly missed.

Smooth, reaaaaaaaaal smooth. Arthur groaned to himself as he deflected Francis's incoming shot. He was still a shit swords fighter. Fucking jeez, could they NOT teach that male how to fight like a pirate?

"I remember," Arthur slashed at the male, only for him to glide like a ballerina to the other side. Okay, that was actually good form... He wasn't going to lie; however, he would never tell the Frenchmale. "The first words you said to me. You were much more happier enjoying your conversation with Joan, you remember her?" He asked, only to get a slash in response.

"She got engaged, Francis. She's moving away from the small town. Thought you'd like to know." Arthur kicked him down into the murky waters and held out his hand... only to deflect it from getting torn to shreds by Francis's blade.

"I saw you that first night, when you wanted to be a pirate. I thought about killing you since I thought you were one of them," Arthur gave a light chuckle and turned his blade at an angle as he struck, lightly cutting Francis' clothing... And only that. "However, I am glad I didn't slit that throat of yours cause I wouldn't of gotten to know someone as lovely as you."

Another deflect. He kicked Francis' legs from under him and watched the male tumble back down into the vile waters. He readied his blade.

"You might as well make that your new home down there." He meant it as a joke; however, his telling was so dry that Francis ended up charging him again... Which Arthur ended up throwing Francis back into the water.

"I messed up. I went on a date with someone I didn't even fucking like because I didn't want to be honest. I didn't want you to have to worry or get involved but you fucking did anyways!" Tears began to stream out of his eyes as he took his ripped sleeves and began to wipe his eyes.

Clank.
Clank.
Cla—
A sharp pain filled his left shoulder as he dropped his sword upon the pavement he was standing on and pressed his right hand where the blood began to leak from. He scurried for his sword, only for Francis to step on his blade and gently move it from him.

"Well played," Arthur muttered as he glanced up at the blurry figure. He tried to hold out his glare; however, it couldn't prevail. "On that day you threw me overboard, I shouted I hated you. I never did hate you. I just couldn't handle these feelings bubbling inside me.."

He glanced down at his palms as he felt something soft hit his knees.

"Pick it up."

His green eyes moved over towards his sword that shined brightly in the artificial lights. He gripped the handle hard, rising to his feet as the dirty male before him began to swing.

Swing with life.
Swing with energy.
Swing with someone he had never seen inside of the Frenchmale before.

"Francis, I never meant to make you feel like you were useless. That I didn't like you. It was.... Farther than the truth. I... Tolerate you." He thought he heard Alfred face palm very loud in the background. Pirates dropped one by one around them as Arthur kept his eyes upon the Frenchmale.

It was... Working. It was working!

The Brit knocked Francis' sword down to the earth and held it up to the Francis's throat. "Just because you show your enemy mercy doesn't mean you have won. Pick it up."

Arthur took a step back as he watched the Frenchmale pick up his pearly blade. Francis's eyes snapped up; however, they felt like they were glued to an object that was off in the distance.

"Duck," the Frenchmale whispered and he instantly felt himself follow Francis's instructions. The male sliced through the air at a pirate that was trying to get the Brit from behind.

"... Wow, you didn't have to do... That.." He felt his cheeks light up with a soft hue as Francis glanced down, a soft, mischievous energy filled his blue eyes.

"I had to tho. I had to prove that I wasn't such a shit sword fighter like you say I am."

"Oh no, you definitely still are," interjected Arthur. The only response he got back was a light shove from Francis. "However, your form has improved."

A small group of pirates gathered themselves around the two of them and he felt Francis press his back against Arthur.

"I'm surprised you came for me," Francis remarked as Arthur began to slash at the pirates in front of them, their cries being drowned out by how loud the clanking of the steel blades were. Blood splattered itself onto the dry pavement above the water as Arthur gave a short snort.

"Why in bloody hell would you say something so utterly nutty, frog?" Arthur snickered as he craned his neck to get a good look at Francis, only for darkness to cloud the Frenchmale's eyes.

"You saved me, it would feel wrong if I left you down here to rot, especially because you ran because of me," admitted Arthur after the silence had finished its feast upon the two. Francis squeaked as he bumped into Arthur, who had cleanly cut through his crowd of pirates. He jumped to Francis's side and heard the familiar clanks of steel.

"Guess that makes sense.." Francis trailed on as a giant sigh escaped Arthur's pressed lips.

"I am surprised that a simple conversation broke you out of being mind controlled. I am quite flabbergasted."

"I was never brainwashed," Francis blinked as Arthur remained quiet. "I was just tortured."

"Outrageous and audacious. However, Scott never had any morals growing up. I am just glad you're safe," Arthur murmured as he went to (ironically) give Francis a hug, only to retreat when Francis shifted to pop his hip out.

"... Sure you are..."

"God... How oblivious are you?" It meant to come off as a soft tease; however, judging by Francis's flinch, it was anything but. "I didn't mean to upset you, I swear. I don't know what horrors and torture methods you went through but you're strong. You always have been. You survived all that and I am glad you're safe now. I mean it." 

"Fake it until you make it," a coarse whisper left Francis' mouth as he slit the throat of the last pirate that stood in their way. A shiver snaked down Arthur's spine as his eyes flung themselves to the whole scene: Alfred and Kiku were fighting in silence while Ludwig was brute forcing his way through the crowd towards the two of them.

"Francis, I wanna finish what I was going to say on that fateful, rainy day. I promise, nothing bad." 

"If you're going to say a rejection, spare me the tears."

"Nono, that's not what I wanted to say!" Arthur argued as he tried to grab Francis's hand, to show ANY small amount of affection he could but atlas, the Frenchman dipped into the crowd and disappeared like a ghost. Arthur felt his hands clench into fists so hard that he couldn't help but stalk after the blondmale. "... Goddammit, that son of a..."

No. Francis wasn't a son of a ... God. He didn't even wanna finish what he was thinking about.
If Francis didn't want to hear what he desired to say, then he would wait. Wait until Francis was ready.
Wait until Francis wasn't caught upon rejection and realize what the Brit longed to say.

"We finally can have some private time, Arthur," Scott's voice rung in his head as his thoughts instantly shattered like glass laid upon the floor like trash. He cranked his neck to the right and watched his older brother fade into existence.

"Alfred is right, when you put your syntax like that, you do make it sound weird."

"Ahhh, enough of your dirty minds!" Roared Scott as he drew his blade. "I should've stoned you when you were a young kid."

"And I should've killed you when I had the chance in Fishguard." A demonic smirk latched itself to the edges of his older brother's face and in that moment Arthur knew.

He wanted to wipe that ugly smirk off his brother's face.