France, England, and FrUk Oneshots

La vie va avoir de la pluie

((A/N HHAHHAHAHA, PREPARE FOR A SAD FrUk, HAHAHAHAHA!!! Based off of an "imagine your OTP" post I saw on Instagram; by the way, possible trigger warning!))

*France's POV*

  France slammed the door to his house, shaking. "Why would zhey call me a rapist? I'm not a rapist. I.. I didn't.. I wouldn't!.. Why would I put somebody through zhe same pain I went through?" He let out a sob. "Why would everybody zhink zhat?...", he whispered. "I can't do zhis anymore- Non, don't zhink like zhat... Don't do somezhing stupid." France swallowed loudly and grabbed his house phone, quickly dialing a number.

  After a couple of rings, the phone was answered. "What do you want, frog?", a grouchy voice said on the other end of the phone. "Angleterre, I-" "Don't call me that, you git! I've told you a thousand times!", England snarled. France blinked tears away, not in the mood to argue with him. "Je suis désolé. England, I need to ask you something." The Brit was quiet for a moment. "What?" France took a deep breath. "Can you please come over? I just really need-", France broke off suddenly, giving a small sob.

  "Listen, frog. I don't have time to deal with your drama. I have important things to do, and listening to you whine about love or food or some other bloody thing isn't exactly on the top of my to-do list. Bugger off, will you?" France was silent for about 10 seconds, tears streaming down his face. "Frog? You there?", England finally said. France opened his mouth to speak, but he only managed to choke out a squeak. "Francis?" France sniffled and wiped at his face. "I'm sorry for bozhering you. It won't happen ever again," he whispered in a shaky voice.

"Huh? Wait, France, hold on-" France slammed the phone down with a shout of anger. "Why doesn't anybody CARE?!", he screamed, turning around and punching the wall. He moaned loudly and dropped to his knees, sobbing. "N-not even Angleterre cares... I.. I can't..." As he sobbed into his hands, the phone began ringing. He didn't even bother standing up and answering. Whoever it wasn't didn't care about him.

"Hey, frog? I know you're still there, please answer the bloody phone," England's voice said on the voicemail. "C'mon lad. I'm sorry, I... I was just in a really pissy mood, I didn't mean it. You were just at the phone, you couldn't have gone far... pick up?.... Please?...." He was answered with silence. "Ok then. Call me back when you're ready to talk." The phone clicked, and England was gone. France screamed several times, slamming his fist down on the floor. He just wanted the anger and pain out. It was still there from Jeanne's death; it was still there from when he was a small child and he had been... Had been...

  He screamed again, slamming his hands down. He sobbed loudly, rocking back and forth. It still hurt - not his hands, but his heart. After what had to be 10 minutes or more of crying, the phone began to ring again, and it once again went to voicemail. "France? Come on now, answer the bloody phone. I'm worried about you." France glanced at the phone, but didn't move. "He's just trying to clear a guilty conscience." "Fine. Be a git and ignore me... Please just call back and let me know that you're alright."

  France lay on the floor for many more hours. He didn't move much, he just lay there wallowing in self pity and pain. Eventually, the phone rang again. At the voicemail, England began speaking frantically. "Francis, damnit, answer me! I'm worried. This isn't bloody like you! If you don't call back in 10 minutes, I'm telling Canada to call you too." After about 15 more minutes, the phone rang again. "H-hey, big brother France?... England says you were crying, and now you won't answer. And usually you always answer me especially, so now I'm even more worried. Call me back... Okay?.. Bye.."

France sat up slightly, and was instantly hit with a wave of guilt. He had been laying there for hours, pitying himself, not caring if he hurt or worried others. "You're so damn selfish!", he screamed, punching the wall again. He screamed over and over, hitting the wall harder each time. "Selfish! Selfish! Égoïste! Égoïste! Égoïste!" He let out scream after scream, sometimes not even saying words, just simply letting out pure, raw anger.

"YOU! DESERVE! TO DIE!!", he sobbed as he kicked out at the wall. He screamed for what felt like forever until he felt somebody grabbing him. He screamed louder, not wanting his punishment to end. "Non! Non! Laisse moi partir! LAISSE MOI PARTIR!" The grip tightened, and he got pulled away from the wall, kicking and screaming. "Shh, shhh. Lad, it's okay, it's okay. Calm down. You've got to speak English." France stopped throwing elbows at his captor, but continued to squirm. "Let me go!", he sobbed, his throat feeling raw and painful.

England pulled him back further and sat down on the ground, with France falling into his lap. He began rocking slightly, rubbing a hand up and down France's side. "Francis, calm down. Everything's alright." France shook his head, still crying. "It's not alright," he said in a whispery voice. At that, he tore himself away from England and began flinging out at things again. "I don't deserve to have you caring for me!", he screamed. "You deserve so much more zhan me! I'm SELFISH! And WORTHLESS!" He struck out at a mirror on a nearby wall, and glass shattered, showering all over France.

"France, stop it!", England cried out. "NON! I deserve zhis, I deserve WORSE!" England grabbed out at France, but he stumbled away and began beating his fist against the wall again. "I should die! I should DIE! Je mérite de mourir! Je mérite de mourir!" He let out scream after scream, no longer saying words. The next thing the knew, he was back in England's lap, having glass pulled out of his hands. He continued to scream for a couple more minutes, until eventually, he could barely get out a sound.

Soon his voice was reduced to almost a whimper, and he shook violently. England was once again rocking him back and forth, holding him tightly. France suddenly turned around and began sobbing into England's chest, holding onto him desperately. The British nation wrapped his arms around him. "It's okay now, you're alright," he whispered soothingly.

((A/N and that's all I'm putting! P.S., that may or may not have been a sneak peak of my next book.... (Hint hint it was) 😂 Remember to vote, comment, and leave suggestions))