Paint it Another Colour

Chapter 19

Francis had been trapped in the same room for a while now. No one had come to see him, no one had come to feed him, although plates of food had randomly appeared at odd times without any human intervention it seemed. The thing in the darkness had been frequently moving. He'd never seen what it was, who it was. It had never spoken, never made a sound. It was almost as though it was trying to pretend it wasn't there.

He'd figured the room he was in wasn't as big as he'd originally thought, and was split up by bars into various cells that, almost like magic, weren't seen in certain lights. In fact, he only knew they were there because someone had come in to collect the thing and had fallen against them at one point, making them all shine up in blue. The person had looked like James,  but it had been dark so he wasn't entirely sure, and anyway, he could've sworn James was tall. The person was more around his own height, instead of Matthew and Alfred's.

To begin with, the quiet and the dark hadn't bothered Francis, but now he'd been in the quiet, dark area for a while, it was starting to get to him. The quiet mainly.

"Parlez-vouz Francais?" he asked the thing in the dark.

"Oui" it responded. "Mais je pense que mon Anglais est mieux. Parlez-vous Anglais?"

Francis nodded before realising it was too dark for it to see him. "Yes, English is a well known language for me."

The person, for it was surely a human being, let out a small laugh which dissolved into a violent cough which sounded as though they were trying to dislodge a lung or something like that. There was a splattering noise like some sort of liquid falling to the floor and the person grimaced.

"Are you alright?" Francis as far forwards as his chains let him.

"I'm fine. It's just a little blood. A little blood never did anyone any harm really."

"It sounded a little bit more than a little" Francis said, but didn't press any more. The person was intriguing him. Their voice was definitely recognisable to him, but not quite. It was hoarser than anyone he knew. It sounded as though it had been through a lot, as though it was on the verge of giving up and it didn't quite finish some of it's words properly. It was controlled by an accent, but because of the hoarseness of it, Francis didn't recognise it. Then again, it wasn't as though they would recognise his voice either if it was someone he knew. His voice had definitely changed. It cracked at almost every word and most of the time, his tongue was too dry to form the words properly so they came out in a string like a stuck record. His voice was hoarse too; lack of water does that to people, but it wasn't as if it was anything he wasn't used to by now after centuries of living.

"Yeah?" they grumbled. "Well just trust me. I've been through worse."

"Okay" Francis shrugged and lay back on the floor, staring upwards through the darkness at where he assumed the ceiling was. The person doubled over into another coughing fit, making Francis frown. "You haven't been coughing before now."

There was a rustling noise that he assumed was them shaking their head. "No" they stuttered between coughs. "It's the talking that's doing it."

"Oh, sorry" Francis immediately felt guilty. "I'll stop."

"No, no" they said as they finished coughing. "It's been a while since I've heard another voice which isn't any of them flipping counterparts. It's nice, and it's not as though talking is going to kill me right? Or if it does, I'd probably welcome it. Get me out of this god forsaken place."

Francis laughed a little. "Then what about me? I'd be left with no one again."

"You were doing fine staying silently by yourself before" they said.

"Yeah, but there's a certain point where you start to go insane after so long without noise or light" Francis said. "I was reaching that point. There was no way I was going to continue normally."

"Fair enough" they said letting loose a single, shaky cough. "I guess that's a reason. But if I'm gone, they'd make sure they had someone else to kick, and I'm afraid that'd be you. You wouldn't be alone all the time see."

"That sounds good" Francis muttered, his voice literally dripping with sarcasm. "Good kick every now and that'll keep me sane."

"Okay, maybe when you put it like that, it won't be, but you know" they laughed again before hacking up coughs again. The sound of blood hitting the floor was repeated and Francis winced.

"Do you mind me asking you who you are?" Francis asked, pulling his chain to see if he could go any further forwards and reached out to find the bars. They flashed blue as he touched them and he pushed his hand in between them. "I'm Francis."

"Francis?" there was a silence before they started laughing again, coughing again, but continuing laughing even through the coughs.

"What?" Francis withdrew his hand again. "What's so funny about it?"

"No, no, no, it's not your name it's just" they drew a huge shaky breath, still laughing a little, but the coughing had subsided finally. "Just that you don't sound yourself. You don't sound like you. I didn't recognise you."

"Hm?" Francis frowned. "I knew I recognised your voice. Who are you?"

They laughed a little again and stretched their hand through the bars as well, grasping Francis' and shaking it in a familiar way. "N'avaiz-vous pas reconnu votre posséder fils? Salut papa. C'est moi, Matthew!"

Yay, filler chapters! Hope this was alright. Who got the picture hint at the top?
Translations:
Parlez-vous Francais? - do you speak French?
Oui, mais je pense que mon Anglais est mieux. Parlez-vous Anglais? - yes, but I think that my English is better. Do you speak English?
N'avaiz-vous pas reconnu votre posséder fils? Salut papa. C'est moi, Matthew! - Didn't you recognise your own son? Hi papa. It's me, Matthew! 
See you next week ^-^
MiddleEarth4eva