Alright. So this is a rewrite of the first chapter. When I first wrote this fic it was going to be a different story so I decided to go back and change this so it fit better with the rest. I hope nobody minds too much. The first half is new but the second is pretty close to the original.
Nation (noun):
1: a large aggregate of people united by common descent, history, culture, or language, inhabiting a particular country or territory
2: a race of semi-immortal beings which serve as physical personifications of recognized countries and micronations with indeterminate life spans and characteristics representative of population and international influence
"Alfred" In the back of America's mind the young nation was somewhat aware of someone calling his name. It was like when a person was trying to sleep on an uncomfortable surface but just couldn't seem to get there. His body was in a restive state, that was for sure, but he was still mildly aware of those around him. At this point he had a choice, he could either respond to the voice that was calling him and wake up. Or he could ignore it and return to his half-sleep.
"..." In the mind of Alfred F. Jones it wasn't really a choice. The roughly nineteen year old looking nation had absolutely no desire whatsoever to return to awareness and the dull monotony that was the World Meeting. You would think that with all the nations in the world gathered in a single room of a UN building it would be the perfect breeding ground for constant shenanigans. Especially since nearly all those nations had the bodies and subsequent maturity levels of young adults. Younger even in some cases. And admittedly this was normally the case. But with organizational skills like Germany's it had become rather difficult as of late to cause mayhem.
"...red..." The sleeping American strained his ears to try and recognize just who it was trying to reach him. 'England?' Yes, there was no mistaking that accent. It was most definitely Arthur Kirkland's voice calling him. Alfred felt his former mentor's hand on his shoulder and what was likely the result of the shorter blond trying to rouse the much larger nation. Needless to say it didn't work very well and the superpower continued to slumber.
"..." Quite heavily at this point. Ah, blissful unconsciousness was so close.
"AMERICA!" A particularly large stack of papers were slammed down on the meeting table right before where the slumbering nation had formerly kept his arms crossed on the table to cradle his head. Said nation jumped to a sitting position and was jarred into reality as he took in the rest of his fellow nation gathering up their meeting supplies and dispersing to do whatever it was they wanted now that the world meeting was over.
Alfred felt a slight blush grow at the fact that he had apparently slept through the entire remainder of the meeting. He had thought it only to be five minutes or so. America turned to meet the glare of the slightly shorter blond that was standing over him with a scowl on his face. "Dude what the hell? I was sleeping you know!" The wheat blond worked up what could only be described as a pout and crossed his arms childishly. What? He was nineteen! Well technically he was well over two-hundred but still! Alfred turned his glare to the man standing directly before him. Arthur was wearing his usual scowl, his piercing green eyes seeming to bore into America's soul. It was unnerving at times. His perpetually messy hair, a richer blond than his own, hung down a little over his eyes, breaking their effect somewhat and just enough to give the American room to escape their accusing look. "You know what? Whatever. Meeting's over I'm leaving."
He didn't want to keep looking at those eyes, even if for some reason Alfred got the feeling they were not exactly looking at him. No, actually as America followed the Brit's gaze they seemed to fall somewhere over his shoulder. But as Alfred tried to throw a casual glance to where he traced England's he saw nothing. So America quickly packed up his things. Careful not to look in England's eyes he got up and turned to leave when a determined hand wrapped around his arm. Alfred froze and turned around to see England now turning his attention back to the teen. "Look I'm sorry for waking you so rudely" he apologized. "You were just sleeping so heavily I couldn't wake you any other way. I wasn't trying to upset you." Alfred glanced away a bit in shame. He was a heavy sleeper after all so it was probably true. England sighed as no verbal response was given to his apology. "These are a copy of the notes I took during the meeting. You may use them to look over what you missed as you were... you know." Alfred looked over to the stack of papers that had served as an impromptu alarm.
"Umm, thanks" he tentatively reached down and took the stack of papers with one hand as the other scratched the back of his neck. Why was it so awkward for him to just talk to England? They were kind of like brothers after all. More like ex-brothers. Maybe that was why. He just couldn't look at the elder nation the same way anymore. Sure they were allies after all, but America couldn't help but feel like if he tried to spend as much time as he used to with Arthur he would just be rebuffed. So he didn't even try. Not very heroic for the self-proclaimed 'Hero' but Superman can't be Superman all the time right?
He must have been quiet for a while during his little inner monologue because when Alfred zoned back in Arthur was giving him a wary look. "If you're still upset about me waking you up I already apologized-"
"It's fine dude don't worry about it. Sorry for snapping at you" Alfred apologized before pulling his arm away and turning his back on the other to leave. England hadn't let him go so the American had had to use some of his extra strength which came from being a major world power to force it away. He only made it a few steps though before Arthur called his name again.
"Alfred!" said nation turned back around. England was looking somewhere over his shoulder again. "Do you want to walk back to the hotel together?" Alfred considered the request. He wanted to say yes. Secretly, despite his constant teasing of the older nation during world meetings, he did like hanging out with the Brit. But then again, he wasn't sure if he did want to. Japan had asked him before to play that one game with him tonight. Oh, and there was the shorter Asian too. Oh well.
"Nah sorry. I promised Kiku I would play this one game with him tonight. Maybe some other time. See ya!" Alfred flashed that thousand watt grin of his and departed with a passing wave. The young nation turned his back only to have his arm gripped again. This time, much more forcefully and with a slight hint of desperation.
"No. You're coming with me." Arthur's tone left no room for refusal, and, perhaps against his better judgement, Alfred followed as he was pulled.
England was nervous. He had been during the entire course of the World Meeting. Like something in the shadows was watching him. Well, not him. Something was watching America. Out of the corner of his eye he could see dark figures with shadowed faces. They had been everywhere and they seemed to be getting closer. At one point he had even seen one point towards the blue-eyed nation. It was certainly ominous, and that just wouldn't do.
Now admittedly, even though America and England's relations had been quite good, Arthur and Alfred had suffered a kind of divide. They were allies, they discussed things during meetings and occasionally over a lunch break. But aside from a purely professional standpoint they barely ever interacted. But Arthur still cared. Alfred was his little brother regardless of what the other said. He wouldn't let whatever these dark shadows were harm the younger man in any way.
So here he now was, tugging the American out of the UN building and out into the busy city streets and constantly casting wary glances into the shadows of the alleyways looking for signs of the figures who had most certainly been tailing them. They were getting closer. England was silently grateful that America hadn't fought when he started pulling him. Instead the bespectacled nation had slipped his hand into Arthur's and now they were practically running with hands locked. Arthur turned down another alley and saw a group of the same shadowed figures on the other side. "Damn" he cursed, sliding his free hand to where he kept his handgun.
"Alright Artie what's going on? You're kind of freaking me out dude" Alfred laughed nervously and started loosening the grip he had kept on England's hand this whole time. Couldn't he see them? They were right there!
England tightened his grip. Not letting the other slip loose. "Alfred I need you to listen to me" he stated in a carefully leveled voice.
"O-oh okay" America responded nervously. England did not look away from the shadows which were starting to encroach on them. He knew from experience that Alfred was probably looking at him with that skeptical look he always got when he caught Arthur talking to his magical friends. Who were very much real mind you!
"I am going to start firing my gun in about thirty seconds. When I do I need you to turn around and run."
"What! You can't do that! And why do you need me to ru-"
"Alfred!" Arthur cut him off. They didn't have time for this and he needed the American to listen. Using the hand that was resting over his gun England flipped off the safety. "Promise me you'll run. I will be right behind you but you can't stop unless I tell you to." Alfred audibly gulped behind him. That would have to do for assent. "On three" he dropped America's hand and drew the gun, aiming it directly at one of the shadows. "One."
"Whoa whoa whoa wait a sec"
"Two." 'Damn it Alfred try and see!'
"Artie unless you tell me what's going on I'm not going anywhere!"
"Three!" Arthur decided to hope that Alfred would listen and fired his gun at the shadow. The human-like figure collapsed while the others all drew their own guns. 'Well shit.' England managed to get another shot out and take down a second figure before hearing the others return fire. One bullet flew so close that he could feel it through his hair.
"What the HELL!" America shouted from behind him. 'Why does the idiot never listen to me?' he grumbled internally before turning and pulling the oblivious nation after him by the collar of his favorite WWII bomber jacket. Throwing America around the corner he turned and fired at the last remaining shadow.
"Follow me!" he waved the American forward as he quickly looked around. There were more shadows converging on them. Alfred had clearly heard the return fire on him, but could he still not see?
The two ducked into an alley and England pushed America against the wall with one hand while he peeked over the corner and fired a few more times before pulling the trigger to find the gun empty. "God dammit!" he cursed before pulling back beside Alfred.
"Dude I have no clue what's going on but here" Alfred threw England his gun and the Brit nodded in thanks before firing again. More shadows fell but Arthur could see their numbers multiplying. They needed to get out of here and fast.
"Alright let's go" pulling the American behind him the two continued on their way and started sprinting down the alley. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit" England started muttering as more figures appeared in their escape route. They were trapped.
Acting on instinct Arthur shoved the younger towards the wall and away from a volley of bullets that flew towards them.
"OH FOR GOD'S SAKE!" one of the bullets made contact with Arthur's thigh and the Brit collapsed to the ground, enough swears and colorful language to make a sailor blush spilling from his mouth.
"Where is that coming from!" America shrieked. England heaved himself out of the center of the alley and against the wall. Their attackers were slowly encroaching on them.
"Alfred get down!" he shouted as he saw one of the men raise a gun towards the American. Lunging forward Arthur pulled one of Alfred's legs out from under him and sprawled himself over the collapsed American as a bullet flew by overhead. Bracing himself up by his arms and uninjured leg.
Arthur raised his arm but the gun was shot from his hand. "England!" America shouted in concern.
"Shit. This isn't good." The men neared and one came to stand directly above the two nations on the ground. Arthur glared up at the figure. The man raised a gun and directed it towards the Brit.
In a last ditch effort to try and protect Alfred, Arthur lunged towards the figure.
"Arthur!" A gunshot rang out.
Alfred felt consciousness come slowly, very slowly. Shaking his head, the young man blinked several times to try and rid himself of the black spots clouding his vision. Only when his sight became clear again did he realize something was wrong. He was met with cinder-block walls in a dark room and ache in nearly every muscle of his body. Alfred heard the sound of dripping water and tried to turn to find the source of the noise in the otherwise silent space. Keyword here being tried. He could turn his head just fine but when it came time to twist his shoulders and upper body he felt restraints. Quickly looking down he saw that his chest was wrapped in heavy chains around the back of the chair he sat on and felt that his wrists were similarly bound and connected to a chain looped into the floor. Not understanding what the hell was going on Alfred began to struggle, believing his inhuman strength granted from his superpower status would liberate him. But he was wrong. His bindings were too tight and the chain on his wrists too taut to give him room to gain the momentum needed to break free. Flailing and grunting a few more times the young country finally gave up and slumped into his seat, a layer of sweat streaming down his face and stinging his eyes beneath his glasses. Alfred tried to fight panic but couldn't. He didn't know what was going on. How did he get there? Who had done this to him? Why? He slumped a little farther and sniffled as frightened tears started to make their way down his cheeks. He let his head fall back and felt it strike what distinctly felt like the back of another person's skull.
Too shocked at having only just realized he was not alone he made no sound as his apparent companion groaned and began to shift behind him. From the sound of twisting ropes and creaking wood it seemed whoever this was had similar if lesser restraints to the the American. The mystery person groaned again and then began to jerk at this restraints. "What the bloody hell?" came a familiar, bleary voice.
"England?" America couldn't believe it. 'England's here? But why? Does he know what happened?'
"A-America?" England asked back, still a bit unsteadily and sounding like he was speaking past gritted teeth. His head probably still hurt. He sounded altogether calm though, which was probably good since America certainly was not. "Do you know what happened? Why we are here and tied up?"
"I-I don't know" America shook his head ineffectively. If England didn't know either then they would be completely in the dark. Alfred felt his breathing start to pick up and his heart beat wildly against his chest. "We were walking back to the hotel from the summit meeting... and then... That's right we were attacked!" Arthur was trying to piece together what he could recall from the events of several hours ago. Was it hours ago? Days? America didn't know. Alfred started to tremble and his breathing became louder and more unsteady. Oh God, he felt like he was choking! What was going on! Was he going to die-. "America! America calm down you're having a panic attack!" 'A panic attack?' That was right, he used to get them a lot after 9/11. But it had been years since his last episode. "America I want you to take deep breaths as I count alright?" America swallowed but grunted in assent. As England counted down from ten Alfred took big. even breaths and felt himself calm down. When the young superpower felt in control of his body again he noticed that Arthur had twisted to try and get a glimpse of his friend. "Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.
"Y-yeah, thanks Arthur" England sighed in relief. "So, you don't know what's going on?"
"I remember us being attacked but after that nothing. They must have had guns though. You're not hurt are you?" the level of concern in Arthur's voice jumped at his question.
"No just sore. I think I got hit in the back of the head though" he could feel a giant lump there and it wasn't from bumping into England earlier. "Why do you think they had guns?" It wasn't that big of a stretch but still.
"Oh, well" England shifted and grunted in pain. "I'm pretty sure I was shot a couple of times. Once in the leg and another in the gut. Nothing vital hit but it hurts like hell." That explained why everything he said sounded strained.
"What! You were shot!?" America jerked in his seat again, about to renew his efforts for freedom to help his friend. "We've got to get you out of here!" America jerked and England hissed.
"Calm down and stop your flailing. Its obvious its not going to work. We're trapped." The way he spoke left no room for argument. America settled once again and turned slowly to try and get a look at England's condition. They were back-to-back, both bound to uncomfortable wooden chairs nailed to the floor. As he had expected Arthur was bound the same way as Alfred with the exception of his restraints being thick rope instead of iron chains. America could just make out England's blond hair which was matted and bloody. He figured he must look just as bad. England was also very still, likely to avoid aggravating his injuries. Unable to see anything more Alfred shifted slowly into his first position, staring idly at the walls. "Can you see anything?" England asked after a moment or two,
"No, just walls on this side, you?"
"I must be facing the front. There's a door directly ahead of me by about three meters. It looks pretty sturdy. Besides that nothing."
"Well shit" America murmured.
"Indeed."
They were quiet again for at least a couple of minutes before America decided to speak. "Hey England?" said nation hummed to his counterpart. "Are... are you scared?" America's voice was small. "I-I mean, we don't know what's going on or who did this so-" he trailed off.
For a moment England said nothing, then he sighed and without wavering, answered "Yes."
America gulped but tried to sound cheerful, "Well don't be, I'm the hero so I'll save us in no time, and-"
"America." Alfred shut up. "America it's okay to be scared." Alfred lowered his head in shame, glad that their positions made it impossible for England to see him.
"No its not" he whispered.
England sighed, "And why is that?"
"Because you're never scared" Alfred found himself answering with surprising sincerity. He felt like a child again. He wasn't even really sure why he was telling England about his insecurities. Normally it was Arthur himself he tried to hide them from.
"America you bloody idiot don't be daft. I just admitted to you that I'm scared right now" he sounded exasperated, but definitely not scared to America's ears. So he said so.
"You don't seem scared."
"Just because I'm scared doesn't mean I have to let it show. I've been scared plenty of times." Alfred felt England tilt his head back as the ends of their hair met. America leaned back as well so that now they were resting their heads against one another and their shoulders brushed. The contact brought more comfort to America than he would ever happily admit. He felt the vibrations through Arthur's body as he spoke. "When I was a child and Rome came to take me from my family, when I was invaded by the Nordics" he was silent for a moment. "The Blitz." America nodded his head, knowing England could feel him do so. "And let's not forget the time I saw you wrestling with that buffalo as a child" America chuckled a little at the memory.
"Oh yeah."
"I nearly had a heart attack." Again they lapsed into silence. America felt Arthur's breathing slow and he wondered if the man was possibly falling asleep.
"Arthur?"
England jumped a bit. "My point is America" he said quickly, "is that everyone feels fear. Even world powers and empires." America thought on what England had said but still could not shake the terror welling inside him at not knowing what was going to happen. At acknowledging the fact that both he and England were at the complete mercy of some unknown entity.
"Wh-what do you think's going to happen to us?" he inquired. Not really sure if he wanted to hear the answer.
"I honestly don't know, but I won't lie, it probably isn't going to be anything pleasant" England's voice was steady but tired. America found it hard to tell what exactly the Englishman was thinking.
"You mean... torture?" America gulped and broke into a cold sweat.
"Possibly, it depends on what they want I suppose." Arthur tilted his head a bit, he must be looking at the ceiling. Not like there was much to look at, just cement.
"Have you been-"
"Yes."
"Oh."
"You haven't-"
"No, never."
"I thought not. Is that what scares you so much?" America nodded his head in affirmation as he bit his quivering lip. England sighed through his nose. "I wish there was something I could tell you but, your fears are not irrational."
America swallowed a few times before daring to ask, "How many times?"
"Three. Rome, Spain, and Germany respectively." America's heart clenched. He could not imagine what it must have felt like, what methods they must have used. How could he still keep calm knowing exactly what might be coming? He voiced his inquiry and Arthur responded. "Its the knowing actually" he said simply. "Understanding pain and those who inflict it." His voice grew solemn. "I've lived a long time America, even by our standards. I've felt every kind of pain and torment someone who's lived three-thousand or so years can imagine. Physical, mental, emotional. I know pain. And more importantly, I know that I can endure." England moved so that he and America's eyes just met. "We fear pain because we fear the limits of what we can endure. That we will reach a point that will break us so much that we can never recover. It is faith in ourselves, our strength, our ability to pick ourselves up and carry on that makes it possible for us to face that fear with heads held high." England turned forward again and America did the same. "That and faith in the knowledge that all things, even pain, must end."
America thought on that but shook his head. "But we're nations. We can't die, or at least not easily. If we won't die then how will it stop?" England was silent for a long time.
"That's why it's called faith Alfred." America supposed that was true when another topic came to mind.
"I didn't think you were religious."
"Why, because of the whole Catholic or Protestant thing?" America shrugged. "I've decided that it's not a matter of the correct interpretation or denomination. God is God regardless of the name you call your creed. In all honesty, I had hoped that after the Crusades humans would have outgrown the need to fight over the way they worship and what name they call the same deity." He took a weary breath. "But I guess not." Alfred thought on everything England had told him during this conversation. It turned out that the old man actually had some pretty insightful thoughts. Alfred supposed that if- no when, they got out of this he should make an effort to go have more intellectual conversations with his old mentor instead of always trying to grate on his nerves. "You're being awfully introspective" England remarked out of the blue. It caught Alfred off guard.
"Just trying to distract myself I guess."
"Well then, ask away" England joked. "Its not like we have anything better to do."
Alfred laughed a little. Nothing like being tied up in a room together to get some good brotherly bonding in. "What's the meaning of life?"
"42. Now are we actually going to talk about something or not?" Alfred still chuckled a little to himself, but then got serious.
"Fine, fine. But in all seriousness England, what do you think happens to nations when we die? Like, really die?"
"You mean do nations go to Heaven?" England asked back.
"Yeah I guess so." England again, did not answer for a moment.
"Technically, not even humans can be completely sure about what happens when they die." Silence. "But if you really want my opinion, then yes. I do think there is a place for us somewhere in the heavens. Are you worried about your immortal soul United States? You do have Hollywood and Las Vegas." Alfred snorted a little.
"Maybe, but sometimes I wonder. Like you said, we live a long time. We've all been monsters at some point. Killed countless people with our own hands, not to mention the sum total that our people have. It makes me wonder if we even deserve a place in Paradise."
"If you can feel that remorse and even think of that question then you answer it yourself. England leaned back further to increase their contact. "You're not going to die Alfred. You are going to be alright. I swear. I will get you out of here." Alfred smiled at the determination in Arthur's voice. "And besides, if anyone here should fear for their soul it's me not you. Dark magic and piracy remember?"
"That's not true" Alfred said seriously. "You are one of the kindest people I know, or at least now anyway. It wouldn't be Heaven without you" Alfred blushed at his own words, and if the spluttering he heard behind him was any indication England was definitely blushing too. He normally didn't mean to say these kind of things to his ex-brother. But instead of being brushed off and called insincere as he feared, Arthur instead accepted the gesture.
"Thanks" England muttered.
"No problem."
The two fell quiet again, this time with neither of them willing to break it. Alfred personally was too caught up in his own thoughts. He didn't know why England was being so quiet. 'Maybe he really is scared?' After about five minutes Arthur's head slumped forward and Alfred's head and shoulders felt cold at the loss. "England?" he asked. He got no response. "Arthur?" he tried again, a little louder and tried looking back. "Maybe he fell asleep?' When he still got no answer he began to get worried. That was when he heard it again. That dripping sound, except that it sounded more like water dropping into a puddle than onto concrete like the floor was made of. Alfred shifted a little and his foot landed in something soft and wet. He looked down only to feel his face grow pale at the sight of pooling blood. But, he wasn't bleeding. 'England!' he realized.
'England said he got shot!' America started panicking again. "England!" he shouted jerking around and wrestling in his chains trying to get a response out of the unconscious Brit who was apparently bleeding out! "ENGLAND!" he called again. This time, the shorter blond jerked back to awareness and quickly grunted in pain at the sudden movements.
"Wh-what? Oh, sorry... must have... fallen asleep." England sounded so tired.
"Arthur you're bleeding!" Alfred shouted at him.
"Oh, oh yeah. Sorry. Didn't... mean for you to notice."
"Why wouldn't you tell me you were hurt this bad?" he demanded.
"Didn't want you to worry. And besides, what would you do about it?" 'Good, he's sounding a lot more awake now.'
"I would-" Alfred stumbled on his words, unable to actually think of anything he could do.
"Exactly. Besides, its not like I'll actually die. I'd just revive in a few hours." He said that, but Alfred found it no comfort.
"D-don't" he said quietly.
"What?"
"Don't die" he said in the same small voice.
"I'm bleeding out Alfred" he sounded resigned. "My eyelids feel like lead, I don't think I can last."
"Please. Please don't." Alfred had only seen Arthur dead once before. Of course the older nation had died and revived countless times, but Alfred had only witnessed it once. It had frightened him. Arthur just gone. The thought made his blood run cold. He didn't want to be left alone in this room tied up next to the body of his best friend for who knew how long. Wondering, doubting whether he would wake up at all. "Don't leave me alone here."
"I'll be back in a few hours" England reasoned. He was starting to sound tired again.
"PLEASE!" Alfred begged. England sighed heavily.
"...fine. I'll stay." England leaned his head back so they were in the same position as before. Head and shoulders brushing as much as possible in their confined positions. But when England said nothing after a few seconds Alfred grew worried again.
"Arthur?"
"I'm still here love, I promise." They stayed that way for awhile. England conserving his strength while America, every few minutes, made sure he was still awake. Alfred was beginning to wonder how long they had been there. What his captors were up to. Were they planning something? Waiting for England to bleed out and die? Were they just going to leave the two of them in there to rot? He didn't know.
"Hey England" he decided to ask.
"Hmm?" the elder hummed sluggishly.
"What are they waiting for?" assuming Arthur knew who he meant by 'they'.
"I... I don't want to frighten you but" he fell quiet.
"But?" America prompted him on.
"They might be waiting for me to die America" he eventually finished.
"What! Wh-why?"
"If they have been observing any of this they might have assumed that you would be emotionally compromised if I was dead." Alfred felt himself getting scared again.
"You won't right? You said you wouldn't."
"That's right, and a gentleman always keeps his word. And besides, I think the bleeding has finally stopped." Alfred didn't say anything for a moment, listening. To his relief Arthur was right. He couldn't hear the dripping sound of Arthur's blood anymore. "I think your stubbornness might have saved my life America." England's tone was thankful and lighthearted.
"Promise you won't go anywhere" Alfred demanded. England chuckled a little bit though his voice was still strained.
"I promise. I promise I will do everything in my power to stay alive and by your side." Alfred felt Arthur stretching behind him and was surprised to feel their fingers touch. "I'm here" he said. Alfred knew he would be alright then. As long as he was with England he knew he would be able to make it through anything his captors did to him.
It seemed fate was listening and decided to test his new conviction because that was when they heard the sound of movement outside their shared cell. Both he and England jumped and immediately became alert. Alfred heard the sound of shifting metal and turning locks from behind him and figured it must be the door. Arthur stiffened and so did he. At the sound of creaking hinges Alfred accidentally let out a tiny whimper of fear and felt Arthur stretch again. He gasped a little when he actually felt Arthur's fingers intertwine with his own. Alfred immediately stretched back, strengthening the tentative hold they had on one another.
He couldn't tell who it was when their captor-captors there were several sets of footsteps, entered their cell, but it would be alright. They would get through this together.
"Well hello gentlemen. Or should I say England and America?"
