#i did not glue my eyes from my laptop screen until 3:15

[sailforvalinor]

Hello um yes reporting live to tell you all that I read the entirety of Silver Eye in *checks watch* 4.5 hours last night

[cloversreblogs]

Brass in the grey- Chpt. 9

Previous chapters (AO3 only): 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 Links: FFN.net, AO3, Wattpad Read on Tumblr: 7 / 8 / X / 10

Francis and Arthur apologise to each other

Pairing: FrUK

Genre: Modern AU, Artists AU

Chapter rating: T

Chapter warning(s): Arthur has a bit of a nervous breakdown at one point

He decided to rest for the rest of the week.

After a couple of days of resting and thinking instead of constantly having to push himself out to busk, he actually felt… better. Not completely healed, but better. Pretending to want to busk was tiring, anyway.

Over the past couple of days, Francis had reflected. He busked so that he could feel useful. Other than that? It was mostly because of the fear of doing nothing, being nothing, even. After he realised that those thoughts were irrational, it was easier to think about the problem.

Francis sipped the mug of coffee that rested in his hands as it rained outside. It was a calming silence somehow.

It was not uncomfortable like the silence of the park. The park's silence was a void that consumed anything and everything. Maybe it was something to do with the addition of the pitter-patter of the rain, the refrigerator's low hum, or the ticking of the clock, but it was soothing.

When he finished his coffee, he placed the mug into the sink, and sat onto the couch. He soon realised that he had sat on his folder, and pulled it out from underneath him.

It was quite bulky, so much so that the pages were sticking out. He had bought it sometime during June. As he flipped through the folder, he noted that there were only three empty pockets left.

Francis leafed through all the adagios, the concertos, and the gavottes before pulling them out of their pockets.

Without a second thought, he closed his eyes and ripped them. All of the music sheets that he had printed, marked, highlighted over the course of weeks, months even, gone in a matter of minutes.

At last, he let go of the last piece of paper. Ripped paper littered the floor around him. Only two music sheets, Autumn Leaves and In a sentimental mood, remained in the folder's front, pieces that Francis had never found the heart to throw away, despite the age.

He didn't know how to feel after tearing apart the music sheets. One one hand, he was irked at how he had destroyed so many perfectly good music sheets. On the other… he was… relieved.

As he cleaned up the scattered mess of sheets, a thought crossed him that maybe he should apologise to Arthur. He had toyed with the idea of doing so, but it had only remained as an idea. Even now, Francis wasn't sure if he was ready to apologise.

On the other hand, today he had been feeling much better today. It wouldn't hurt too bad, right? He grabbed the keys and left the apartment. Now would be a good time to do so.

Since that encounter with Francis, Arthur had found that his writers' block had returned.

His head was clouded by regret, so much so that the fuse refused to light. No matter how much he turned his thoughts away, it was still there. The regret hung onto the fuse, like glue. He knew why- ever since the last time they had seen each other, Arthur couldn't help but feel guilty.

He should've stopped himself just before the actual argument happened. Was he the reason that Francis had actually been forced right up to the edge? In fact, was Francis even unwell in the first place? He was disgusting. He shouldnt've intervened at all.

Arthur shook his head, and focused back onto the computer screen. To his dismay, he found that he had wasted 15 minutes from thinking about Francis.

He growled and slammed the laptop screen shut. Writing had always been a source of comfort for him. Back when he was a kid, so why couldn't he do that-

A quiet knock pushed him out of his trance. Who was that? His mind mingled with the possibility of Francis, but he shut it down. Why would Francis want to see him at all, especially after how he treated him?

A peep through the peephole proved otherwise.

On the other side of the door was Francis.

Panic started to rise up within him. Sure, he knew that one of them had to apologise to one another sooner or later, but never in a thousand years could he have dreamt for it to happen at all! Nevertheless, he took a deep breath in, straightened his shirt, and answered the door.

Francis glanced up, and smiled at the sight of him, but forced it down.

"I know you're mad at me, but-" A raise of a hand by Francis signalled him to stop. Francis took a deep breath in.

"I'm… I'm sorry… e-excuse me." Was he going to apologise? He said it so quietly, Arthur thought that his ears were playing trick on him. "For..." He took a deep breath in and cleared his throat. After he raised his head, Francis made eye contact and said:

"I'm sorry for yelling at you the other day. I- didn't know what got into me, so… so yeah."

Arthur was stunned. Francis apologised for something he wasn't even responsible for! He glanced to the side. How should he respond? He couldn't just say "apology accepted" and leave it like that, especially when Francis had mustered up so much courage to come apologise. That would be cheap and assholish. Jesus, why couldn't he think straight in these situations?

"No no, it's not your fault. I… we were probably both at faults, but honestly it's not your fault that you, e-exploded and whatnot. Erhm, it's natural? Jesus Christ, I'm sorry, I…" He took a deep breath in as he rubbed his temples. All the things that he had felt over the past couple of days were building up, and his nerves were starting to get the better of him. If he wasn't careful, his emotions would build up like water in a dam and overflow. "I shouldnt've stuck my nose out of your business and shit. I'm sorry for being a such bloody arse and judging you and seriously, I-I was so scared that I fucked you up permanently, ugh, I'm so sorry, Jesus, ugh fuck!"

A wave of panic crashed onto him as the dam walls burst.

And once it burst, it just wouldn't stop flowing. LHe could feel his breathing become more and more shaky as he took deep breaths in. His head started to throb, his heart was hammering against his chest, and his hands were clenched so much that they shook violently, his whole body shook, in fact. But those were all overshadowed by the sensation of tears pricking at his eyes.

He hung his head down. He was crying. He was actually crying! The disgust of it just made him cry harder.

At this point, everything around him started to close onto him, and his surroundings started to spin as nausea overcame him.

Suddenly, he felt himself being lead away from the hallway back into his apartment. He felt the couch's edge at his knees, and collapsed down onto the couch. The couch shifted as he felt someone else sit next to him- Francis.

"Try taking in deep breaths, OK?" Francis instructed as Arthur sat down. He drew in a deep, shaky breath before exhaling, and breath by breath, he felt more and more in grips with himself.

Breathe in, breathe out.

"That's it. It'll be over soon, I promise, I'm here for you."

He repeated it like a mantras until slowly, but surely, Arthur's crying slowed down.

By the time he was done, he was absolutely exhausted, and his cheeks were probably red hot. He must've looked like a mess right now.

"Here." Francis passed him a handkerchief which he took.

"Thanks," he muttered as he wiped away his tears and mucus with it.

Francis stood up, and grabbed a folded blanket that sat on the other end of the couch before unfolding it.

"Lie down," he calmly instructed. Arthur lied down, and Francis laid the blanket onto him.

"Sorry, I tend to get terribly emotional."

"It's OK, it happens to all of us. Rest for as long as you need to, OK? Do you want a drink or…"

"Sure," he muttered. "The tea's in the first cabinet at the right." At this point, he was too tired to care about his pride and whatnot. He heard Francis walk into the kitchen, and rummage through the cabinets.

"Which kind?"

"Chai."

As he lied down, he could hear Francis busy in the kitchen.

He sighed. It had been awhile since he had been taken care of like this.

A thought crossed into his mind. Was it fair? Francis had came to apologise, and now he was making tea for him. Christ, that wasn't right at all.

Furthermore, why did Arthur cry when the situation wasn't even about him? Who even did that?

Maybe he shouldnt've just let his emotions loose like that, and make everything about himself. He should've controlled them more, and then they could've left the apology cleanly.

When Francis came from the kitchen carrying a mug of tea, he sat up, and took it.

"Thanks."

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah. Thank you." He was about to take a sip when he stopped. When Francis cried a couple of days ago, he just left him without another word. This time, when he himself cried, Francis not only lended him a handkerchief but led him inside and took care of him, even after all the shit he put him through.

He snapped out of those thoughts. But what if those thoughts were wrong? What if it was just his habit of overestimating situations? Arthur's head started to spin. Drinking the tea would be ignorant. Rejecting the tea would be rude-

"Are you alright?"

Arthur glanced to his side at Francis, who looked at him, concerned. By then, he realised that he had been staring at the tea for awhile.

He placed the tea onto the table, and sat up straight. After taking a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and thought of what to say.

Arthur took a deep breath in, and fiddled with his hands. "It's… it's just not right for me to make you cry last week, and now you're here apologising for something that's not even in your control. And... now you're making me tea and lending me your handkerchief and overall just being much more kinder than you needed to be and just treating me decently even after all the shit I put you through last week." Frustration started to pent up inside of him as Arthur held his hands tighter.

He felt a pat on his shoulder, and glanced up towards him. Francis smiled at him reassuringly, with no hint of disgust whatsoever, and he felt a bit relieved.

"Arthur, look. Oh one hand, I did all this, because honestly, nobody wants to be left alone and uncared for, everybody needs a shoulder to cry on and…" he stopped his words when he remembered about Arthur's earlier words.

"Alright, you made a mistake the other day, but I understand. To be honest, I-I don't think that I would had accepted an apology from you after I broke down and such, anyway."

"Ah." Arthur nodded at his words. "Makes sense. But it doesn't dismiss the fact that I've been practically verbally harassing you and whatnot."

"Harassing?" Francis gave out a small chuckle. "Bit extreme, don't you think?"

"Hm. I, I suppose. Excuse me, I'm sort of at this shitty level of asshole and care-too-much, so… yeah. I just overjudge things too much." There was a brief pause from Francis after he said that.

"Arthur, look, I… forgive you. It was a mistake that you made the other day and so on and so forth. Erhm, maybe I was at faults as well since I should've been more… more clear about what I was feeling. Point is, it's past us now, alright?"

Arthur was still hesitant. Here Francis was trying his best to give him advice and such, but it wasn't working as effectively as the other had hoped.

He heard Francis sigh, and he looked towards him. Francis looked down, dejected.

"To be honest, I probably needed to face what I was going through, anyway."

"What?"

"You were right the other day, I couldn't just bottle up my emotions and problems and expect them to go away. I… bottled them because I thought that I'd hurt people if I was open about them. And now…"

"Wait, no no, it's not your fault either. It was something you couldn't control at the time…" Arthur remembered about how he was upset over his mental breakdown. It was something that he couldn't control either, and somehow, he felt… better about it. "Sort of like how I broke down today." Francis nodded, and he stroked his chin as he thought.

"You exploding and me exploding as well were out of our abilities, so maybe we could apologise over the things we do have control over. Hang on." Francis cleared his throat, and waited a bit before starting. "I'm sorry that I wasn't clear about how I was feeling. I was scared that talking about the bad things I've been feeling would, well, scare people away if you know what I mean. And… maybe I could've told you that I didn't want to talk about it." Arthur nodded.

"I'm… sorry for judging every single thing you did and pressuring you. I did it since it worried me alot to see you clearly bottling up your emotions, since…" he paused. He glanced over to Francis who listened on. Good god, this was going to be embarrassing. "You're… a… well, erhm, friend of mine, and I… hate to see you like that. I… sort of have a fear of being ignorant, so... that sort of adds to it." Friend. Huh. He had never thought that he would use that word.

"Well, maybe if you're worrying too much over me next time, you could ask "are you alright?" or something like that."

"Yeah, and you could reply with "I don't exactly want to talk about it" if you have to, cause honestly, we only just met two weeks ago and such and such." Francis snickered a bit.

"Feeling better now?"

"... A lot!" Talking about how he felt actually made alot of progress. "Though… there's still the thing about your job, and me about constantly overjudging everything. I… couldn't help with that, I apologise."

"Arthur, look, I think that it's OK not to be always be informative since, well, we are people, and there are things that we don't know. Besides, you tried to help all you could over the last week, even if it doesn't always turn out well. Well… I could go see a therapist if I have to."

Arthur thought. "Hm, I know this one therapist near here. Here," he grabbed a loose leaf of paper and a pen before scribbling down an address and passing it to Francis. "She's quite nice to talk to, and her office's really close from here. Actually, I think that I'm overdue for an appointment, anyway."

Francis looked at the address, and smiled. "Alright, I'll think about it!" The whole room seemed to lit up as Francis smiled, and Arthur actually felt… happy.

Francis and Arthur bit farewell. As Francis walked up the stairs, he let out a content sigh. The conversation with Francis today had cleared, dissolved the solid weight that had built up over the last couple of days, until it was lighter than air. The freedom from it was as if he had taken flight, as if he was free.

Too long had it been since he had felt this way.

When he headed back for the tea, it was lukewarm. Arthur didn't like cold tea, but he could let that pass for now.

Dinner was tense.

Over the past few days, he had been more clear of what he had been feeling. As a result, Gilbert and Antonio, usually loud people, became more and more quiet.

What was usually a time of hearty conversations and recounts had turned dead silent. Francis knew that it was because though he tried to hide what he had been feeling, it radiated a poignant air that you'd have to be blind to miss.

He put down the fork, to which they looked up towards him. It was so quiet, even the tap of a fork was enough to catch Gilbert and Antonio's attention.

"Francis? W-we've been, erhm, noticing that you were…"

"I know." Toni had never been the type of subtle comfort. At those two words, Gilbert and Antonio perked up. He sucked in some air, which helped ease tension. It was now or never.

"I've been feeling a bit depressed-"

"What?!"

"Look, I've been… been, ugh." He started to feel tears prick up in his eyes. Antonio handed him a box of tissues, which he gladly accepted.

"Thanks." After taking a moment, Francis said: "I've just been feeling a bit, well, erhm, u-useless?" It was much harder to say the word, especially since Gilbert and Antonio were the literal reasons he felt that way. "It's just the way that I get to hear how your days are going, while I don't have a job and such. I-I'm much better now, but… yeah. I've been feeling this way for awhile now."

"Fran... " Antonio was about to say something, but all words were lost. "W-we're so sorry."

"To be honest, I should've told you this earlier." They nodded, though there was uncertainty in their eyes.

"Is there anything, anything at all that we could do to help?" Gilbert asked.

"Well… maybe… you could try not to talk as much about your jobs…" he started to realise a flaw. In turn of him having to not feel as bad, he was asking Gilbert and Antonio to hide their emotions- the very thing that made him depressed. "But it's more regarding to me as it is regarding to you all, so, erhm, try not to take it too personally. Hm, maybe… maybe I could try out therapy for awhile."

"Ah. Sure. We'll think about it."

It's important to talk about your emotions with close friends/family in terms of mental health, since bottling them up just causes bigger problems later on.