Hi this has been eating at me so here it is.
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Pain. All England could feel was pain, as if he was burning at the stake all over again but this time… He felt as if he had lost something, something so very precious that should never have been lost.
He could taste blood, it was sweet metallic taste- he could never forget the taste of his own blood. Then, he finally opened his eyes to see the world in chaos.
Ireland was sobbing hysterically over the broken body of North, Wales was screaming and Scotland had frozen in shock. It was impossible, no way could this ever happen? North was dead, his sweet forever pure big sister Alana was dead. No way, not her, not Alana, not now. Not after everything they had all been through.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
Arthur couldn't stop replaying the moment in his head, North using herself as a shield when the bomb hit. It had been such a beautiful day… How could anything be beautiful after this?
God, help us. Please, please help us. He prayed as tears streaked down his cheeks, he was unable to move, unable to comfort Brandon, unable to stop Dylan from going insane. Arthur was useless. Useless, hopeless, broken and weak. How far had he fallen? He closed his emerald eyes and lost himself in the darkness.
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Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Arthur awoke to see a blindingly white ceiling. Where was he? A hospital of some sort?
Then, it all came back to him. He had to force back a sob, poor, poor North, she protected him and cared for him for his entire life. Now she was dead, he had lost her just like he had lost his mother. They had both died protecting him. It was all his fault for being so weak.
"E-England…Hey Iggy c-can you hear me?" asked America. "It's all my fault." He sobbed and Alfred flinched. "No it isn't! You didn't drop the bomb!" replied Alfred shocked. "It's my fault she's dead." Whispered Arthur and Alfred had no idea what he was supposed to do.
"W-what happened Arthur?" asked Alfred gently. "When the bomb was dropped North shielded us, it's all my fault…God North I'm so sorry!" Arthur burst into tears and Alfred quietly left the room, shaken by Arthur's reaction.
"What did he say?" demanded Antonio as soon as he came out of Arthur's room. "He said…It was all his fault." Replied Alfred with a sigh. "China was right; where is that bastard anyway? If he knew England was going to blame himself then he should've been here!" hissed Gilbert.
"Where's Francis?" mumbled Alfred leaning against the wall. "Getting coffee, he was the one to find Arthur after the attack and he hasn't left his side until now…" sighed Antonio. "Who did it?" asked Alfred with an unnaturally calm look upon his face. "We don't know." Replied Francis in a hollow voice.
"Dieu l'Amérique, si j'avais su que j'ai serait ont déjà chassé eux et les ont tués!" hissed Francis choking back a sob. (God America, if I knew that I would have already hunted them and killed them!)
"I can't believe North's dead…she was awesome until the very end. Swissy'l take it badly and so will Iceland. God, Antarctica will be a wreck and Brandon…" Gilbert's voice faltered. "Brandon's just going to keep trying to kill himself all over again" finished Francis.
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As predicted, Switzerland took to the drink, Iceland refused to leave his room or even eat and Brandon tried to kill himself twice a day. It was hellish, seeing everyone so broken. The worst was England.
It started off as simple self-hatred America thought he would get over. Talking about North always seemed to help as well as church.
Alfred had never met North, he discovered talking about her made Arthur go back to his old self.
Flashback to the First time he asked two days after it happened.
"So Arthur what was north like?" asked Alfred curiously- what he didn't expect was for Arthur to smile, a real smile not one of the fake ones he always used around the other nations.
"She was incredible, Northern Ireland went by Alana Kirkland and she is a natural born warrior and hunter. She was beautiful, intelligent and gentle, her only faults were her temper and her shyness… She had a stutter and she was the best at magic too… I miss her so much."
Alfred had no idea what to do now, he had found Arthur a week later cutting himself with incredible precision. He told him "its my punishment Alfred" with an empty voice and a dead look in his eyes… The ones who actually dropped the bomb are still at large but it was definitely a nation.
It took a combination of Japan, Switzerland, Wales, America, France and Iceland to convince England to come back to work or at least get a little bit better but it was still obvious he hated himself…
"God, why did this happen? What has Alana done to deserve…this? It's all my fault" were the words Arthur said while standing beside the coffin of the half burnt body. It was obvious she had been beautiful, everyone agreed she was intelligent and dangerous. But… she was gentle and affectionate…
Alfred wished he had met her.
He was sure she would know what to do; she was the one to talk to Japan after his Atomic Bomb… It was evident that all of the UK had experienced being burnt at some point…
Alfred decided to ask France and got a horrifying answer. Arthur had been tried for witchcraft and burnt at the stake, Wales tamed dragons and Alistair was attacked with pitchforks and torches… Alana had celtic symbols burnt into her flesh in the days of olde.
Why was the world so cruel to the best of people?
Why couldn't Arthur see this wasn't his fault?
Why did Arthur have to hurt himself?
Why couldn't Alfred do anything?
Why, Why, Why, Why?
Oh why is the world so cruel?
