Okay everyone who read this story before all the editing I'm sorry for tking it down but the grammar and spelling was awful so I had my friend Sam edit it for me. Everyone give Sam a pat on the shoulder oatmeal raisin cookie for doing this for me! ^_^

Also I decided to write England as the insane one because come on guys, isn't crazy off his rocker Iggy for the win! I mean you just want to cuddle him when he's not being crazy. Also I am aware that mental illness and people who do things like this are not all killers. I just wrote it like this for dramtic effect.

I DO NOT OWN HETALIA!

Arthur rubbed his hands together and felt them. They were warm and tinged a dark red colour. Warm and sticky. Looking down, his eyes grew wide. His hands were covered in blood.

Looking around, he could only guess where he was. Maybe the top of a building of some sort? No, wait; it seemed he was inside a home. His, maybe? It was night time, he knew that because he could see millions of stars in the sky and the moon was shining down on him through a window.

"Iggy..."

Hearing his name, he spun around to see a figure lying sprawled out on the ground. The figure of a man lying in a puddle of something. Arthur squinted his eyes to better make out the figure. "Alfred, is that you?"

Arthur shot up. He was in cold sweat and his throat felt like an infant was tryihurt so much, he thought that maybe it would cave in on him.

Slowly but surely, his breathing calmed down and he looked around the room. White. The whole room was a bright white. Looking down, he could see that his covers were white as well, along with the pillow he had been sleeping on. Beside him, a small nightstand with a lamp on it and a glass of water. In front of the bed and to the left, a dresser, and beside that was a closed door.

Where was he? This wasn't his room for sure. His room was more tasteful and had more colour to it than this. But that still didn't answer his question as to where he could be. The last thing he remembered was being in his house, making lunch for when Alfred came over.

Once out of bed, Arthur could see he had been changed out of his clothes. Instead of the dress shirt and dress pants he had, he was now wearing a plain white t-shirt with matching sweat pants. England felt like groaning- he hated sweats, and he knew he didn't own a pair. So why was he in them?

"Arthur!"

England spun around on his heels to see Alfred standing there, smiling at him with arms wide open.

Arthur half screamed with warm tears in his eyes. He didn't know why, but he was overjoyed to see him. Like he hadn't seen him in days...weeks...months, even.

Arthur ran into the younger man's strong arms and buried his face into the crook of Alfred's neck and began to sob. "A-Alfred, are you alright?"

The grip America had on the shorter male became tighter. "I'm fine." He ran a hand through Arthur's unkempt hair. "They miss you, you know."

"Who misses me?"

"Francis, Matt, Peter, and me, of course."

"Al, what's going on?"

The taller nation gave no answer; he just kissed the top of the shorter man's head. "I love you."

"What?" Arthur looked up only to see that Alfred was fading away. Fading into the air itself "No! No, America, come back! Don't leave me here, you git! I need you!" England did his best to hang onto Alfred, to keep him there, but before he could get a hold on him, he was gone and Arthur was on the floor on his knees, sitting where America had just stood holding him.

A soft whimper escaped England's lips. "C-come back..."

"Are you alright?"

Looking up Arthur could see a young woman with short brown hair and bright red lips. She wore a white dress that went a little past her hips and she had on white panty hose with white shoes.

"Are you alright?" She asked again her voice uneasy and scared. Like a mother not knowing how to care for her crying child.

England looked around for a moment and then back to the nurse. "Where is he?"

"Where's who?"

He couldn't call him America in front of the humans, that's why they had human names. But he was just here...where'd he go?

The nurse let out a sad sign. "Arthur, it's late. You need to go back to sleep."

Arthur stood up. "No, where is he? He was just here!" He couldn't help it as the tears fell from his eyes. Where was he anyway? Why had America faded away? Why did he feel so cold and empty all of a sudden?

The nurse just looked at him. "Come on now," she said as she gently grabbed his arm and lead him back over to the bed. "You just need to get some rest. You had a hard day today."

A hard day? What was she talking about? He had had a peaceful day. He had slept in for once, had a nice hot cup of tea, and then Alfred came over and they had had lunch together and drove to the meeting. He had had a good day. A nice, soothing day.

"Alright, now get some sleep," the nurse said once more as she turned around to leave.

"No, don't go!" Arthur cried. "Tell me where Alfred went!"

The nurse sighed, clearly sick of dealing with the Englishman. "Do you want some medication to help you sleep?"

"No, I don't want any of your bloody medicine. I want to know where Alfred is, and I want to know now, you hear me?"

"Arthur, go to bed. It's late and you need to calm down." Tee nurse looked England over once more and again sighed in disappointment, or maybe sadness. Arthur couldn't tell. "Go to bed. We'll call Alfred in the morning, alright?"

England just nodded and watched as the young woman left. Looking around he could see the city lights from his window. Looking out them he could see tall buildings off in the distance and small houses just a little ways off. But where he was was up on a hill he could see a hug fence going around the property.

"What's going on with him?"

Arthur looked at the door. He could hear the nurse talking to someone. He couldn't make out what they were saying so he pressed his ear to the door.

"He woke up screaming again..."

Screaming? England hadn't been screaming, he had been asleep just a little while ago. This woman must have him confused with another person or wasn't talking about him.

The other woman replied. She sounded tired.

"Yeah, he was saying that that Alfred was there talking to him. He keeps asking for him."

"Still? He's still asking for Alfred?"

"Yeah, he is. I told him that we'd call him in the morning."

"You're not really going to, are you?"

"No. But if it gets him to sleep, then whatever helps. Well, at least that's what his doctor told me to do when he asked for him."

England couldn't believe what he was hearing. She wasn't going to call Alfred at all? Then how would he know he was here? How would Alfred be able to talk to him again if she didn't call him? How would America be able to explain why he was here and then faded away?

Arthur bit his knuckle to hold back a sob. He had to be quiet because the nurses thought he was asleep already. He didn't want any of that medicine that he had been told about earlier.

"Could it really hurt to call that Alfred fellow he keeps asking for? It seems he really misses him."

Yes, yes! Someone was on his side right now. Maybe this girl could convince the other nurse to call America for him, and then he could leave this place, whatever it was. He never did figure out where he was, but he knew he didn't like it here. He wanted to be at his home in London. He wanted to be able to go to sleep and know where he was when he woke up, to not have strange women talking to you, and to be able to call his bloody ex-colony whenever he felt like it. He missed America right now. So much that he felt like he could be sick if he didn't get to talk to him.

"We've tried to call Alfred before," the nurse started up again. "But he won't talk to him anymore."

Wait, what? America wouldn't talk to him anymore? But he was just here a couple of minutes ago, hugging him and holding him and speaking to him. Why would he not talk to him now? Had he done something wrong earlier when he had been speaking with Alfred?

"Why not?"

"He just won't. He still gets upset when he speaks to Arthur."

Upset? How does he upset America?

"Why's he get upset?"

"Because it reminds him of what Arthur did when he talks to him."

"What did he do to make his own brother not talk to him while he's in here?"

"He killed his two little brothers and one of Alfred's best friends. Plus, whenever he does see Alfred, Arthur goes nuts and cries and begs him not to leave. I think he has some love obsession with him or something. Anyway, it isn't good for either of them to speak with one another."

England slid down the door as he heard the two nurses walk away. He wanted to cry and scream, and at the same time he just wanted to listen to that bloody nurse and go to bed. He kind of wished he would have now that he overheard them.

Murder? Who had he killed? England had never killed anyone, and he would never hurt anyone...alright, he'd never hurt anyone for no reason or enough to kill them. And what did she mean a love obsession? He was not obsessed with America, and Alfred loved him back. He loved America with all his heart and soul. Every little thing about Alfred, he loved it so. From his hero ego, to his blue eyes, to his love for burgers, to his strong arms that held him tight. He loved Alfred and Alfred loved him just as much.

England wasn't crazy. He didn't kill anyone, and he didn't have an obsession over someone who loved him too. He was sane. Yes, perfectly sane. There was no way anything those women said was true. They had him confused with someone who was really crazy. But no, not him. No. He was not crazy, he was sane.

.

.

.

"Arthur what h-have you done?" Alfred half screamed as he walked into the old house. There was blood everywhere and his former caretaker was covered as well.

"I got rid of them..." The words that came from Arthur's lips where cold.

"Y-you killed Japan...a-and Peter..."

"I did it so we could be together." England opened his arms and walked towards the American. "They were stopping us. They didn't want us to love each other."

Before he could think, America threw the door open behind him. He was scared half to death right now. It had been Arthur doing the killings. It was Arthur who had killed his brother. It was Arthur...the person that he cared about so much...the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with...the person he would give anything to get away from.

"Where are you going?"

America looked up to see that England had frozen where he stood arms still out, knife still in hand. He could barely get the words out. But could you blame him he just found out that his lover was a murderer, and from the looks of it, he was very sick? "I, um..."

"Y-you're not happy," England said, his voice almost breaking. "I did this so we could be together. I took care of it...l-like you wanted me to."

"I'm not upset!" Alfred lied. "I'm going for a little drive...we're, um, out of milk, and I need to get some, alright?"

"I'll go with you, then."

"No! No, that's okay...you just stay here and get yourself cleaned up, alright? Because when I get back, we're, um...gonna go for a ride in the car, alright?"

Arthur merely nodded and went upstairs. Once he was out of sight, America ran for the car. His hands shook as he did his very best to get the keys in the ignition. He had to get some help.

.

.

.

"Don't leave me!" Arthur cried as he clung to the younger nation's body for dear life. He was leaving again. He was going to leave him here again.

"Iggy...get off of me," America said as he did his best to get England's fingers off of him. But once he did this, Arthur just moved down to holding onto his legs.

"Don't leave me here again," England begged, looking at the man he loved so much with pleading eyes.

Alfred winced at the sight of Arthur like that. He was normally so strong and always wanted time to himself, but not anymore. Now he was on his hands and knees begging and crying for America to stay with him. Not to leave him here in this place. To hold him just a little longer.

"Arthur, I have to go...my boss needs me." Once again, Alfred found himself prying the other man's fingers off of him. " But I'll do my best to come back and see you, alright?"

"Please don't leave me here," Arthur said between sobs. "Please, just take me home w-with you. I miss you..."

"Iggy, you know I can't do that."

"D-don't you love me anymore, Alfred?"

America couldn't answer the question. He couldn't make himself talk. He felt something warm and wet going down his face and wiped it away before England could see it. "I...I have to go now..." With that, he left the room.

England just sat there, his gaze never leaving the spot where America once stood, or the door he just walked out of. "Don't you love me anymore?"

.

.

.

It was late now. Arthur hadn't gone to bed; he was still sitting slumped against the door, crying his eyes out. Holding back the screams he so badly wanted to let out, but was too scared of what would happen if he did so.

"Alfred...don't you love me anymore?"

A/N : Damn America didn't know about England's crazy! XD Umm...please review and tell me what you think.