Francis watched from the doorway as the red haired man hugged the one with the eyebrows... Arthur was it? Then again, the red haired man had bigger eyebrows. They were talking and then the red haired man picked up Arthur and carried him off, still talking.

He sighed. He'd love to have someone to look after him like that. Anyone... well... within reason. But he was alone on this one and would be forever he felt.

Carefully and quietly, he started to pick his way towards the gardens. He'd come in this way, through a gate at the back, and then it was only a twenty-minute walk to the airport. His hair swayed slightly in the breeze as he started to pad across the open grass.

It felt good, relaxing, almost making him forget that he was alone, that everyone else had someone else to help them along, someone to stop them from screwing up. And he was by himself, on the edge of a cliff with no one there to help pull him away from the treacherous drop. Even eyebrows had the red haired man, who clearly had something to do with his past, the one that everyone was saying they'd all forgotten. As if he'd forget something as important as his past.

But then again, how had France been governing itself as a country without a nation for so long? It just didn't make sense.

Francis walked to the back wall of the garden and opened the gate, closing it silently behind him. He was out on the main street now, pedestrians walking past, a few staring. What? Was he wearing something weird? Did he look weird? He glanced down at himself. He didn't think he looked weird. He was just in a pair of brown trousers and a white shirt, nothing fancy, nothing too casual.

"Are you lost love?"

He turned round to see a woman with a pram bending down to his eye level. He blinked a couple of times before realising it was him being addressed.

"I'm fine" he said, smiling. "I know where I'm going."

"Where're your parents?" the woman asked looking only slightly worried.

"Don't have any" he said with the same smile.

She stared at him, shocked and then muttered an "oh... I'm sorry."

Francis frowned, confused. "D... don't be." He turned away, eager to get away from the awkward conversation. Great, yet another person knowing he was alone. What was worse, this person he didn't know. This person had lots of people to help her and lots of people to help. This person was a mortal who felt sorry for him. They didn't understand, they were only mortals.

'Francis' he snapped at himself in his mind. 'You can't say things like that, it's not nice. Just because they don't live forever doesn't mean that their lives are less in value to yours.'

He nodded, angry at himself and continued walking, alone.

*

Alfred carefully dropped Mathew into the passenger seat in his car and slid in next to him. "So Mattie, what d'you want to see?"

Mathew thought for a moment and then spread his arms wide. "Everything."

Alfred laughed. The meeting was in America and he'd promised Mathew that after he'd show them the sights. "So you don't remember anything at all?"

Mathew shook his head. "Nothing at all, not even you."

"Okay" Alfred froze the smile on his face, keeping it there and hoping it didn't look forced. It hurt. It hurt a lot that his own brother didn't remember him. Neither did Arthur, but Mathew hurt more. But then again, it must have been what Mathew felt when everyone forgot about him. He glanced down at his hands that clutched the steering wheel and forced his foot down on the pedal, lurching the car into a move. "Everything it is."

As they drove, Mathew talked. After a while, Alfred zoned out a little, not really paying attention to much other than the road ahead of him and his plan of where to take Mathew. Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, Central Park, Metropolitan Art Museum...

"Alfred" he startled out of his thoughts and glanced across a Mathew. "Were you listening?"

"Err... yeah" Alfred grinned sheepishly. "Um... just repeat it I kind of zoned out a little at the end there. Sorry."

Mathew huffed but stayed smiling. "I was asking about the other countries. Are... have they forgotten everything as well?"

"Yeah" Alfred sighed. "Almost everyone died and then... well... they all came back with no memories."

"Will they remember?"

Alfred shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe not, maybe yes."

"Will I remember?"

He turned to Mathew, his eyes deadly serious. "Yeah. You'll remember." He didn't know. Would he? Would he not? Would he ever actually know who he was? Maybe, maybe not. There was no knowing anything at this stage. Alfred held in a sigh and his thoughts fled back to the most painful thing. This was his fault. He'd let Mattie get killed.

This was what he deserved.