I literally wrote all of this before I'd fall asleep the past couple weeks so please forgive me if anything is wrong, yada yada. I'm not revising this. I die like a man.
Rhoux_

"And what shall we do when we grow older?" John questioned, lazily watching as his hand skimmed over the tall grass.

Francis pondered that question for a second. They were only children. But perhaps that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Suppose there was no 'older'? The world loved to play cruel tricks... Especially on the innocent- wasn't that right?

"Francis?"

"I thought you said you wanted to join the military- the revolution?"

They stopped their walking, now pausing on their path. It was nothing special- beaten into use from long walks in the late afternoon. No one else walked it but them, but they made good use of its existence anyway.

John frowned and pulled away, now moving off their path in a direction away from Francis. He did not rush, he was not running from him, just wandered out amongst the trees carelessly- an open invitation to join him.

Taking the opportunity, the younger boy caught up to his friend. "Did I upset you?"

"No,"

"Then why did you leave?"

John let out a puff of air, seeking refuge under a red maple tree for the time being. He sat down by its lean trunk, scooping up a fallen leaf and holding it out for Francis to take. "I have been thinking."

"Interesting choice." Francis laughed as he took the leaf, sitting down beside his friend.

"Hush,"

"What do you think about?"

"About the revolution- joining it and all, I'm not sure I want to."

This struck Francis a little off guard, he did not think John would say such a thing. He was always one to imagine himself with great glory- jokingly, mainly. Usually after battling him with a stick he found on their walks. After all the enthusiasm, what happened?

"You wanted to join last week."

"I was lying last week."

"Well, why is that?"

"I do not think I am ready for the... aggression of war. To fight so courageously like all the others do."

Francis only nodded, taking a moment to pull his friend down some more so John's head rested in his lap. It made him feel better to do that- he did not know why. It was just true.

Resting his hand on John's chest, he waited for him to continue.

"I heard father say once that everybody has their own spark, their own flame, but that they should stick to it. And I do not feel like being a soldier is something I would be good at!" 

"Perhaps you don't know cause you haven't actually experienced it yet. Maybe you still have to find out what you would like to do."

John sighed and reached up a little bit to put his hand on Francis' arm. "Truly, do you think I would do well? I could not imagine so. Do you think I would do well in a place where to categorize how the day went- it would be based on how much blood you saw?"

The younger of the two opened his mouth to speak, but John cut him off again with a softer tone.

"Look around us, we wander and walk and carelessly enjoy all the days here that nature will provide us, so how could anyone expect of us to join such a thing? A bloody debate on who belongs to who, or how much money someone owes the other. We are nothing but children, who have admired the world around us. I could not see myself surrounded by the color red, not in blood or colored coats. The only red I will enjoy will be the brightly colored leaves that this red maple tree drops."

"You have it all figured out, don't you?" He laughed softly, taking a moment to randomly hand John a leaf he was just talking about. "But perhaps the red you will enjoy are the glowing embers at the bottom of the now-dead campfire?"

John was now looking at him, a small smile on his lips as he pushed himself upward to kneel beside Francis instead of laying down beside him. "No, I have figured out the only other red I will enjoy."

He was confused. "And what would that be?"

"You." He reached out in a fond way to stroke his hair, to fiddle with it some. And maybe Francis stared off into the distance as his fire-red hair was played with- unsure of what to think about it. But perhaps that was not the only thing red, for it was obvious that the younger of the two had a face that was quick to heat up at the simple word.

"You would keep me around?" He inquired.

"I would." He answered, pressing the leaf he was handed earlier to Francis's chest. "I think you are my spark. That thing."

"And what do I encourage?"

"Anything."

"Anything?"

"Yes."

Francis shifted, pulling John and him back down on the forest floor so they were no longer sitting up, and instead staring up through the branches of trees aplenty- seeing if the sky was really so easy to see after all that thick foliage. "Would it cause you to hurt someone if necessary?"

John knew what he was playing on. The war- the crazy bloody war that his father kept switching his mind about on his presence within it. Would poke his chest (Right where a sad bandage covered an unwanted but forced tattoo, mind you) and say that that might be all he was good for. On the other hand, sometimes Henry León would squish him tight and tell him he'd be the best lawyer and even more well educated than he was now. John did not know what was wrong with him, he just hoped that one day Henry would be proud of anything he had done. But maybe he would only get that in death.

"I suppose I would, Francis. Only because of you, though. Or for you."

"For me?"

"Of course."

He grinned in response and rolled over, setting his head on his friend's chest and laughing lightly. Perhaps war would not be so bad. Not if he had a friend who didn't worry too much about any of it. He would not go if John did not go, he was tied to his friend in such a way that it would not feel right to do any differently. I would follow him to the end of the earth, he had thought. And even over the edge.

"Do you hear me?"

That had stirred him from his thoughts. "What? No, I did not. Could you say again?"

"What is your spark? What will keep you going, no matter your profession or future situation?"

"I suppose, that would be you, John."

"Me?" John asked, looking generally surprised.

Francis did not understand his shock. Had he not made it obvious enough that he would do anything for his friend? Perhaps he was not old enough to properly explain his thoughts on the matter aloud. Or maybe, he did not know why himself. There was no way to word it, it was just as it is.

"Yes, you."

"Interesting."

The silence that passed over as they laid could not be labeled as content nor uncomfortable. It was only a time for them to think. Would what they said actually hold true? Or were they still over-imaginative kids, making decisions now that might impact them negatively in the future? If they could not hold up to their promises? If they couldn't hold onto their spark?

John put a hand on his shoulder, offering Francis a small smile. "Should we do something else before the sun sets?"

"I suppose so."

"I propose an idea."

"What is it?"

"Catch me." And sure enough, John gave him a slight shove off of him, rolled to the side and onto his feet, and was rushing off into the open field.

Francis had only laughed and jumped up as well. He was fast, he'd be able to catch up. John could go faster than him, sure, but John was taller and had longer legs to work with. Besides, John never ran at full speed. Always left a chance for Francis to catch up, to get some more fun and adrenaline going for them. Even if John got tackled down, and 'lost' their little game, wasn't the tackling and wrestling just as fun as the chase? It would not be so fun to have them both run on and on forever.

It had not taken long for Francis to catch up, to jump on his friend and wrestle on the ground like they always did. Minutes of this had gone by, filled with quiet struggling and laughter until John gave up, and Francis could actually pin him down.

They spent another minute catching their breaths before Francis spoke with a grin. "I beat you. Again."

"I let you win," John answered.

"Liar."

"Honest!" 

Francis sat back a little and let John move his arms, and with his newfound freedom, John only stretched and wrapped them around Francis's waist. Looking down at his friend still, Francis raised an eyebrow. No new attack? No shove off of him to declare himself as the winner? Nothing else?

He supposed he didn't mind all that much, even though he was still holding himself up above him. He got to admire his friend some- and revel in his little victory of the day. Even if it was just that he won a wrestling match.

"Enjoying the view?" John had joked after noticing Francis's gaze on him, to which the other had no problem replying to.

"Suppose I am?"

And in the pause that they were both still thinking of what was happening, Francis leaned down and pressed his lips onto his friend's, quickly pulling back up.

They looked at each other, almost confused. How were they feeling about this? They did not plan on this. This was new. This was definitely new, and with it rose a completely new uncomfortable atmosphere too.

In an instant, John kicked him off, hovered over him for a minute. Francis could not read his eyes. He could not tell what would become of his mistake. Why had he done that? What went through his head that decided that would be okay?

"Jack,"

"I think-"

"Jack,"

"We should go home now."

It was quiet. His voice was so oddly soft, despite what Francis felt like it should have been. He wished he could just tell right then and there what his feelings were. He wished John would yell at him, or tell him it's fine. God, he just wanted an answer. Not to push it off and wait for some other time to talk about it.

"I'll see you tomorrow." John answered, and sure enough, he was moving away. Not at a run, not at a walk, but at just a speed in between that hurt Francis's heart in a way he did not know before.

He had called out for him once again, but he did not turn around. He kept making his way home, and Francis knew John expected him to do the same.

Why had he done that? What had made him think that that would be okay? He continued to berate himself as he got up and moved slowly back home. 

I'll see you tomorrow, he had said.

Tomorrow. That wasn't that bad, that wasn't that bad at all. Perhaps in the end, no matter what, they would always have tomorrow. Put it off for now, let them think about it, and they would reconvene the next day. 

It wasn't something new, they had always done this. With many things, from settling small arguments, to creating plans. Think about it, and decide the next day.

It was just the same today, no big deal. No problem about it at all! It gave Francis some sort of peace. It eased his anxiousness, not all of it. But some of it. And that would do. Everything would be fine with them. Forever and always.