Schizophrenic

...

Arthur Kirkland lay on the couch in his own living room. His stomach was cramping due to unknown reasons. His head was resting in Francis Bonnefoy's lap. Francis was running his fingers softly through Arthur's short, choppy, blonde hair that stuck up in different directions. A heating pad covered his lower abdomen.
"Maybe I simply have food poisoning?" Arthur gave the Frenchman a tentative smile. In response, Francis pursed his lips slightly and huffed at the smaller man.

" If you say so... Has it stopped hurting yet?" Francis tilted his head quizically and stared down at the Brit whose head was placed in his lap.

Arthur shook his head. "It feels a little better, though.."

Francis leaned down and kissed his forehead gently. "Good. I'm glad you're at least starting to feel better, mon amour..~"

Arthur whined softly, his face flushed. "It's too hot.." He complained.

"Hmm.." Francis blinked and leaned over the younger man to turn down the dial on the remote attached to the cord of the pad. "Why don't we turn the heat down a bit, oui?"

Arthur sighed contently, curled up, and closed his eyes, dozing while Francis continued to run his hand through Arthur's hair and smiled, gazing down at the Briton fondly.

Arthur remained sleeping for some time. His back rose and fell with his breathing, he was sweating due to fever. Every so often, a whimper would escape his lips.

Francis lowered his brows and slowly stood, trying to jostle Arthur as little as possible in the process, setting his head back on the couch carefully and removed the heating pad from his stomach. "Dieu... I need to take you to a hospital."

Arthur opened his eyes slightly at the movement. His face was bright red and he babbled incoherent nonsense. He was delirious. "You silly.. I need that thing.. I'll die if I can't eat that.. Stop killing me.."

Francis shook his head and scooped up the Brit, walking towards the door quickly. He then struggled slightly to open it without dropping Arthur. He pulled it closed behind him and carried him out to the car. "Oi.."Arthur groaned, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His lips were tinged blue with lack of oxygen. Francis flinched. "E-England? Stop that! You're scaring me!" He set the Englishman on his feet, holding him up as best he could with one hand, using the other to fumble with the keys, attempting to unlock the door.

Arthur swayed on his feet, not quite aware of what was happening, before he fell over, moaning in pain. His lips turned bluer as his panting continued. Francis flinched again and lifted him back up.

"Crap! Desole!" He opened the passenger door and guided him inside. "Here, can you strap yourself in?" The other man was quite delirious and was not even aware of the fact he had been placed in a car.

The blue color spead over his face.

Francis quickly buckled him in and dashed to the other side of the car to jump in the drivers seat. He shoved the key in and started the engine. He didn't hesitate a second as he put the car into reverse and backed down the driveway. "Don't you dare die on me..."

Arthur's breathing stopped momentarily before he reverted back to his shallow, forced breathing. He whimpered softly and sobs shook his body. Francis gripped the steering wheel tightly and ran through several stop signs and red lights to precipitate their arrival at the hospital. He soon skid to a stop in the hospital parking lot, not bothering to attempt to properly park his car.

Arthur ceased to breathe. Tears slid down his cheeks and he clawed at his own throat in desperation, terrified. Francis grabbed the frail shoulders of the small blonde. He pressed his lips to his and forced them open. He pushed his breath into the Brit's mouth, unbuckling him in the process. Arthur resumed his labored panting, although the gasps were much further apart than they were previously. He dragged the limp body over the seats and out the driver's side door, hefting him up into his arms and instantly started a mad dash to the hospital doors, uncaringly leaving the keys in the car and the doors open. He kicked the doors open, panting, out of breath. "O-Oi..! Help..!"

Nurses instantly swarmed the two, taking Arthur from the Frenchman and setting him on a bed to wheel him to the emergency room. Arthur wasn't aware of the events taking place around him, and he ceased to breathe again. The nurses quickly put an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, making the young man breathe - the blue leaving is skin slowly. The hospital staff placed him in a room and attached him to machines to check his vitals.

He lost conciousness.

Nearly an hour later, Francis was allowed into the room. Arthur had multiple IVs in his arms for various reasons. His wrists had been bound to the rails of the hospital bed to prevent him from tearing out the tubes. He had been changed into a hospital gown that reached his knees.

The Frenchman sat in a chair placed next to the Brit's bed. The elder blonde tied his chin-length wavy hair back quickly and smoothly before running his fingers through Arthur's choppy hair that was dampened with sweat. "Oh, amour..."

Arthur whined and trembled, unable to speak with the oxygen mask covering his mouth. His eyes were wide and fearful, brimming with tears. He pulled at the straps that held his wrists.

"Shh.." Francis hushed him and leaned over to kiss his nose softly, pulling the mask off to allow him to speak. "What is it, amour?"

"I-I don't like it..! I want to move.. P-Please.." Arthur practically sobbed, the tears spilling down his cheeks. "Wh-What's happening..? What's happening to me, Francis..?" He trembled, panting again without the oxygen mask. His lips turned a light blue. Francis quickly replaced the mask. This action caused Arthur to cry harder.

"I'm not sure, amour... They believe you've had an asthma attack... and you've been hallucinating and complaining of stomach pains, so they believe you have some sort of food poisoning... I had to rush you here... you were turning blue."

His breathing returned to normal. He shook his head in protest at being restricted without his consent.

"Desole.." A few locks of Francis's silky blonde hair fell into his face as he placed his palm on Arthur's wet, tear-stained cheek. "Please, calm down... They might take them off if you calm down..." He murmured soothingly.

Arthur's lips moved soundlessly beneath the mask in reply. He stared up at the other with wide, lachrymose eyes.

Francis rubbed his thumb under Arthur's eye in an attempt to calm him. He murmered words in a guilty tone. "Desole... Desole..." The French word was repeated over and over rather redundantly.

Arthur trembled and fidgeted. His eyes focusing to intently watch something located behind Francis that was invisible to everyone except him - a hallucination.

Francis blinked and turned to look over his shoulder. The nurses and doctors stared at him questioningly. Francis turned back to Arthur. "What are you looking at, England?"

Arthur's mouth moved, his wrists twitched. He looked at the empty air fondly. Francis continued to brush his fingers over his face gently.

"I do hope you'll get better soon.."

Arthur whined and pulls at the staps holding his wrists still rather roughly. He wanted to be free!

Francis hushed him again and shook his head. "Shh.. Calm down, s'il vous plait!"

Arthur paid no notice to the words and pulled his legs under him, using them to push his lower body upwards, arching his back. Francis pressed a hand to the boney chest lightly in an attempt at soothing the younger male. "Amour, don't!"

The nurses shoo'd Francis away coldly. "You're upsetting him. Let him sleep for a while longer."

But Arthur didn't want to sleep. He thrashed about in the hosital bed, the straps biting into his skin as he yanked on his wrists. He would have screamed, had he been able to. There was a simple thought dominating his mind.

Get free.

"Arthur! Stop it! Just calm down! Please!" Francis cried out desperately.

Arthur was held down by several nurses and another IV was pushed into his inner-elbow. This one had a sedative in it.

Arthur flinched an trembled before his eyes lost focus and he went limp, losing conciousness again. Francis was removed from the room for a few hours.

When Francis was finally allowed back to visit the Briton, the oxygen mask had been removed as Arthur's breathing had improved enough to take in air independantly.

Francis walked carefully back to the chair beside the younger man's bed, careful not to wake him. Arthur mumbled in his sleep, breathing through his mouth. His face was still flushed, but less so than earlier. Francis sighed quietly and brushed some short hair out of the sick man's face. He whispered to him, "At least you're breathing normally.."

"Nn..." Arthur squirmed a bit, sleeping restlessly. Francis sighed again and placed his hand over the other's softly.

Arthur finally awoke, blinking his eyes. The grogginess from the medication mixed with his already delirious state. He grinned widely - as was odd for his normally stoic character - at the same patch of empty air from earlier. He didn't even notice Francis.

Francis stared at him blankly, taking hold of his hand. "... Amour?"

Arthur only continued to stare past him. His mouth moved inertly. "H.. Hello.. I haven't.. seen you... in some.. time.." Evidently, he was speaking to the intangible person before him. He saw a man where there was nothing.

"Arthur..? Can you see me?" Francis's brows lowered in worry, gripping his hand tightly.

Arthur didn't reply. Instead, he gave a loud laugh to the hallucination. "Very good.."

Francis grasped Arthur's chin in his hand, forcing him to look him fully in the face. "Arthur. Look at me."

Arthur blinked and frowned in confusion. He took a moment before his eyes lit up in recognition. "You've been hiding from me.."

Now, it was Francis's turn to frown in confusion, his brows raising. "Hiding...? What do you mean?"

"I was looking .. for you.. and you.. weren't around. S-Someone said you were.. hiding from me.." Arthur was referring to a medicated dream. He pulled his face from the Frenchman and began to speak an incoherent language to his hallucination.

The older man lowered his brows again and took his chin again in his hand, pulling him back to look at him. "Amour...you're in the hospital, you know this, oui? Please don't tell me you've gone crazy... Not that you weren't crazy before..." Oddly enough, the two were rather compatible, despite their animosity if there was a war doing on. The two were rather patriotic, if you would, and France and England hadn't had a good history together.

Arthur tilted his head and frowned deeply. "I'm in a hospital...? When? Why?" He feebly tried to pull his chin away a second time. Francis slowly released his face.

"You stopped breathing.. And you had stomach pains. How are you feeling now? Are you feeling any better, my love?"

Arthur didn't respond. His attention had instantly rivited back to his 'friend'. The language was spilling over his lips. He blinked in surprise at something he believed to have heard. "E-Eh..? More of them?" His chest heaved in dry sobs. "I-I can't fight them anymore... I can't...!" Tears ran down his face as he shook his head frantically.

Again, his gaze was pulled back to Francis. "... More of what, Arthur? What can't you fight?"

"M-More of them..!" He responded as if it were obvious, trembling excessively. "They're trying to kill me.. I can't. I can't.. I can't fight anymore.."

"Who? I won't allow anyone to kill you, my love. Who are you talking about? I'll fight them for you.."

"Th-The goblins.. They-They're angry.. They want to kill me... Please save me.." He pulled on his wrists and screamed as he realizes he couldn't move.

Francis almost instantly clamped his hand over Arthur's mouth. "Sh! Calm down! I won't let them get you, England! Please just stop screaming! I can't save you if you keep screaming." He gripped onto his hand tightly.

Arthur nodded and bit his bottom lip. He became quiet after a few minutes. "D-Did they trap me..? Why can't I move?" He looked down at himself and gave a strangled shriek when he sees he IV tubes puncturing his arms. "Wh-What have they done to me..?" He whimpered, his eyes brimming with tears.

Francis shook his head. " Non, amour... It was to keep you from taking out your IVs... The doctors are trying to make you better..." He ran his fingers through Arthur's hair slowly.

Arthur shook his head as well, trembling excessively. "Y-You're lying.. You're with them, aren't you?" He screamed as loud as he could, thrashing about in vain to get away from the older blonde. "Help me!"

Francis shook his head and covered Arthur's mouth again. "No! Amour, no! I'm not with them! Please, stop! We're trying to make you better!"

Arthur tried to bite his hand. His words were muffled behind the flesh. "Ge afay!"

The doctors entered his room again due to the screams. "What is going on here?" They demanded.

Francis pulled his hand away and lowered his brows as he stood. "A-Arthur.." He looked heart broken.

The doctors shook their heads and took notes on their clipboards. "We'll have to send him to a correctional home.." They whispered among themselves. It would have made no difference had they screamed it. Arthur wasn't paying attention - he was speaking in his own fictional language to his hallucination again.

Francis whimpered as the staff held down Arthur again to sedate him. Tears stung his eyes. "W-Why...?" He muttered. The nurses slowly pushed the needle into his skin. Arthur screamed, brought back to reality.

He writhed to attempt to get away from the staff; if not the people, then at least the needle. He failed on both accounts. "Y-You promised you wouldn't let them get me!" In Arthur's delusional mind, the doctors were the goblins. He took Francis standing there and watching as he was sedated as a betrayal. "I-I knew you were with.. them.." His head lolled to the side as he lost conciousness for the third time that day.

Francis bit his knuckles as he watched. A single tear slid down his cheek.

Once again, Arthur slept peacefully.