Madness described the current predicament quite accurately.

There was a sort of madness in the chaos that had erupted between the Italian, Spaniard, Englishman, and Frenchman in the corner of the room. There was madness within the idea of the countries turning their attention quietly to the sickened Brit heaving up his lunch like a dog. There was madness in the fact anyone had put two-and-two together.

And there was extreme madness in what Elizaveta was asking.

"That's crazy." Arthur managed to say after about a minute of gaping, shivering, gathering his voice, and turning an extreme shade of humiliated red. "How would that even happen? I'm...I'm just sick, alright...?!"

His face contorted to one of worry and he leaned back over the small, stench-filled trashcan, choking out the last of his breath as the weeks of medicines and chemicals, along with the withdrawals, began catching up with him.

Elizaveta said nothing as she watched, and it twisted Arthur's guts. Even if she was convinced of the fact he had somehow gained a child through that kind of conception, he would have liked it if she would back off now.

"Dude, that'd be fucking creepy!"

Shit.

Yes, Alfred had finally responded from what seemed to be utter shock of the situation and the news. His face had turned an odd shade of pink, and he was laughing in a peculiarly hesitant way to be unconvinced of what she had said. "C'mon, Art's pretty weird, but he couldn't knock himself up, could he?"

ShitshitshitshitSHIT

"Alfred, just stay silent." Francis muttered, laying his hand gently on the American's wrist. "Sit down. He just has food poisoning."

Apparently, Alfred's verdict had been loud enough, everyone else in the room had heard. And now, a hundred eyes trained on Arthur with fiery curiosity, disgust, and confusion pertaining to this. Even the ever loud Gilbert had stopped his rambling to watch for the final resolution.

Hardly able to stand this any longer, a very peeved and embarrassed Arthur broke into the scene. He forced himself from Elizaveta's grip, pushing through the wall made by chairs and standing nations trying to get a better view. He grabbed harshly on the doorknob, knuckles turning white, and forced the door into a loud slam after he had parted, drawing up a stunned silence.

"Francis, deal with him!" Ludwig demanded from the front of the room, though even he was tinted with a hint of a cautioned questioning. Nodding, the Frenchman stood, followed by his favored Spaniard friend and said man's boyfriend. As if walking down death row, they slipped from the room as silently as possible in search of Arthur.


"Oi! Tea-sucker! Get the fuck out here!" Lovino called out in an angered flurry. It was clear he was stressed out by the fact he had to search for someone he heavily disliked, while carrying a burden of a headache and a nauseated turning of his stomach.

Antonio's lips turned up drily, holding back a sigh at the tactics of his lover. "Now, Lovi, that's not a good way to draw him out-"

"I'll fucking break your neck if you don't hurry the hell up!"

"...Old habits die hard..."

"Arthur, please," Francis muttered as he continued on his way, peering down hallways, into dark closets, anywhere he could find. Poland had designed this meeting house himself, completing it with twists and turns unimaginable to the average human. It took almost 10 minutes just to talk in to the lobby of the building. "We need to get back inside. The racket we caused was quite...unsettling. Do you want people to suspect you even further?"

A rattling sounded down the hall. Though it was faint, the group picked up on it quickly. Francis's shoulders drooped, and he motioned for the pair to stay back while he went to confront his lover.

"Arthur, mon cher, are you in here?" He called gently, prying open the door he'd heard the noise in. His eyes took seconds to adjust to the darkness of the huge room laid out in front of him, and when they had, he took in the scene around him. In the middle of this area was a long table, which had to be used as another sort of meeting room. Around were stacked chairs, and a ghostly emptiness. Francis near turned away before his eyes caught hold of a movement in the corner. Indeed, a speck of blonde brushed against one of the chairs, the figure huddled in itself, tucked into a large jacket.

"Arthur..."

"Get the hell away."

"You can't just march out of there like that. They're going to be wondering."

"I don't care! Let them think what they want!"

"Don't you think it might be time to tell them...? We only have a month or two left."

"Maybe I don't want it anymore!" Arthur's voice rose to a dangerous level, signaling his anger and stress levels were rising. "Have you ever considered that? How the hell would we even raise it! There's a reason we're not supposed to be able to conceive. There's a reason I'm not supposed to be able to: Because we'd be terrible parents! We'd treat them wrong... we'd be only obsessed with ourselves, and..." He took a moment to breathe, shaking at this point. "We'd watch it die. It wouldn't be able to live forever, even if we wanted it to! Why not just end it now? Before... before..."

Arthur had hardly noticed the Frenchman slinking over to the area he was. Not until the tears had begun falling. His throat ached as if it was going to shrivel up and turn to ash, his head hurt from all the yelling he had done, and dizziness swept over him in seconds.

"We'll deal with this all later, I promise." Arthur heard Francis say, and barely felt his arms encircle him to pull him close. "Just calm down." His words only bounced off his head. Arthur's mind grew heavy, and his limbs fell to his side. "Are you alright?" He blinked a few times, attempting to keep himself awake. Though, within only a few moments, his entire body felt like iron and he slipped from consciousness.


Fingers teased at the base of Arthur's many locks of hair. Gradually, the Brit began to get a vague awareness of the scenery around him. To his right, a few bodies stood, though it was easy to mistake who they were. In front of him, a tall, though muscled figure bounced from foot-to-foot, throwing glances back at Arthur. And to his left, a patient, though familiar, man dressed in a long white coat spoke to the group.

The person touching his hair was none other than Francis, whom teased and pulled out tangles from the strands as he listened, distracted.

"...be fine. It was just a mix from the stress and his... condition."

There was a murmured understanding from all in the room, and that was when Arthur began making out faces as the fog in his mind cleared. The doctor who had been speaking was one of the ones that had taken care of the blonde for the past couples weeks. He was one of the only ones who showed up continuously. He was mostly in charge of checking his blood levels, and often gave him anesthetic when he was feeling too anxious.

The ones on his right were Feliciano, Lovino, and Ludwig. Antonio was nowhere in sight, which was odd. Typically, he didn't let his ex-henchman anywhere out of his sight. And lastly, to his front was none other than the American country himself. Until now, Arthur had hardly noticed he had a smaller figure behind him, which turned out to be Matthew.

It was quite the family get together.

Everyone was quiet for quite a while. Arthur relished the time he had in silence for the smallest bit of the moments, but he quickly grew uncomfortable, as it seemed all were waiting for him. Now that he began noticing it, an IV was taped into his arm, and he was in clear, white sheets that had tangled around his body and formed a mesh that covered everywhere up to his chest area, which was covered by a patient's gown. That must have been why he felt a bit parky.

Arthur shifted his weight in the slightest onto his side, causing a creaking noise to echo through the room. All eyes turned to him and he froze, which obviously gave away the fact he was now awake. Once this was realized, most coughed in an embarrassed hesitance that gave him the suspicion of something he completely feared.

Everyone had to know by now.

While the others turned away from Arthur, facing the wall and pretending they hadn't noticed, Francis simply let his grip tighten to show his acknowledgment, and scooted further next to him until they were touching.

"Arthur, do you need anything?" He asked lightly, ignoring the fact the two were getting multiple stares.

"I'm fine. Get everyone out." Is what he tried to say, but when he realized his throat felt like a desert, he shook his head simply, looking down at his hands with a very clear frown. Francis got the message, at least.

"Do you want us to leave?" He tested with a softness to his voice that hid the fact he was practically kicking everyone out.

Arthur shook his head. After all, he needed to talk with Francis and at least found out what had happened while he was out. But the others, who had been watching for his reaction, simply relaxed, taking that as a message they could stay.

The Brit clenched his jaw, drawing up his arms to his side. Tension echoed through them as he attempted to force himself to sit up, though he still felt rather weak and lightheaded. Francis attempted to assist him by leveling him against his body, to which he was rejected with a glare.

Arthur took around 30 seconds, but he had finally settled into a sitting position against the fluffy pillows, and let his exhaustion out in a breath. His mind was spinning as he tried out his voice. "Why are you all here?" He demanded, his voice starting hardly above a whisper and crescendo. "I'm just a bit woozy is all. There's no need. Get on your way."

Alfred's eyes showed a dash of confused auras, a cup of irritation, and 3/4ths part bewilderment. "Artie, they told us everything."

And in that moment, Arthur's worst fears became true. He suddenly felt even more nauseous as his face heated up, turning a mix of a deep red with a green tint. He honestly couldn't tell whether he was going to throw up from his daily sickness, or the thought of them looking at him with an unsaid disgust.

The intensity of the next minutes that followed only worsened Arthur's sickness. Knowing everyone knew... knowing the kinds of comments he'd get... knowing just how weak he must have seemed in their eyes. His entire body was burning. He turned his eyes away as quickly as he could, averting them to stare at the corner of his bed. Francis touched the top of his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to rally him from any thoughts he was having.

"Is that it, then?" Alfred muttered, and folded his arms while he looked expectantly down to the quiet man. "You're not even going to explain what's happening in your own words? How the hell did you even...?"

Arthur felt his entire body tighten. His head hurt, and right now, he just wanted to lie down and rest. Not deal with a babbling idiot and the stress he brought along with him. "I don't fucking know!" He snapped, his eyes flaring in anger. "If I knew, don't you think I would have said something?!"

Alfred stepped back, his mouth snapping shut.

"Arthur... maybe you should calm down?" Matthew suggested in his quiet manner, a light frown passing over his face. "Al didn't mean to make you mad. He's just... a bit confused. We all are."

The way he spoke visibly calmed the man down, and he sat back against the head of the bed, his breath thick as he listened to Matthew.

"Listen," The Canadian continued. "We're just... worried about your safety. If you need anything, go ahead and ask us, okay? We're all here for you." He gave him a warm smile, and motioned for the others to follow him out of the room. Hesitantly, one-by-one, all left but the lovers in the center of the room. Even Feliciano decided to go, but not without throwing his arms around Arthur, wishing him luck, and scurrying off after Ludwig.

Arthur rubbed at his chest to soothe the dull ache, which had been assaulted by none other than the Italian. Now that he noticed, a lot of him hurt.

"The rest of the meeting has been postponed until tomorrow." Francis assured the other, and stretched out along the comfortable mattress Arthur laid upon. "So, you have quite a long time to rest."

Arthur gave a rather patronizing looks to Francis, which resembled much that of a child. "I don't even know how you could think I'm going back to all that bullocks. The meeting was pointless, poorly run, and..."

Francis nodded, quite understand what the other was thinking. Hell, Francis always knew what Arthur was thinking. It bloody annoyed him to no ends!

"Tomorrow's the day we're discussing things." Francis informed him, holding up a finger to silence Arthur as soon as his protests had begun. "Even if you think it's something you're dealing with on your own, mon lapin, it's quite a big deal that includes everyone. We've only had issues with children being born a handful of times, and those, as you know, have not turned out well in the end. It's clear they all fear the future of our child, oui?" He gave a warm smile to Arthur, adding in a brisk kiss to his forehead as a way to prove his point. "You already know the dangers... so let's not place it all on you."

"Idiot..." Arthur simply added, before, once more, he felt exhaust wash over him.

"Sleep well, mon petit chouchou~" Francis bid with a sing-song tone as he picked himself from out of the mess of covers. "Bonne nuit~"


Walking down that final hallway felt the same as walking down death row. No one was around, which made sense. Arthur was still forced to be escorted to the doors by the doctor- to which he now knew to be under the name Eric Phills- though the man couldn't come inside to such a restricted area. The twisting path had passed by much quicker than Arthur expected, and suddenly he was at the entrance, and the gent Phills was nodding his goodbyes, heading down to the area he was designated to wait for the meeting to be over in. Arthur felt Francis lightly tug on his shirt, and looked over to see a supporting smirk on his face. Oh, how much Arthur wanted to brush that right off...

And, suddenly, the very wide, double doors opened, creaking open from the ages they'd been left closed. Arthur sucked in his breath, suddenly realizing 100 eyes were focused on him, and there was dead silence. The Englishman felt a scowl form on his face from the attention, and pushed past Francis, marching proudly to his chair placed at the back end of the table. However, Ludwig caught his arm half-way there, his eyes stern as he drug him back with him to the front of the room.

"Let me the hell go!" He demanded and pushed the German's heavy hand off of his arm. "I can walk myself, thank you!"

"Sit down." He ordered without hesitation, pulling out a chair next to Feliciano and motioning towards it. Without much more protest, he set himself down, wrapping his arms around himself as to hide any fact he had any misshapen parts from... all of this.

"The world meeting of 1994 has been put off until today for many reasons," Ludwig began, and this cued the chatter amongst everyone as they began bickering, laughing, crying, or kicking once more. "Though the main one was to discuss the fate of the child you've all heard so much about."

Peter quickly raised his hand. This caused any nations who noticed him to grown. Ludwig almost overlooked him, but decided he should have a say in this as well.

"I think we should take it from Jerkland!" He shouted so his voice would carry, though still small. "He's treat it just like he did with me!"

Arthur hardly paid attention to what was being said, faking the fact he was taking notes on a piece of paper in front of him. Instead, he was quite focused on the headache all the noise was giving him.

Over the course of the next 30 minutes, shouts and suggestions that were incredibly stupid were given to him.

"Put it up for adoption...!"

"Teach it to grow into a nation...!"

"Give it independence from him...!"

"Abortion?"

Arthur felt his hands clench at the last suggestion. It'd been three months. Three fucking months. There was no way someone was taking away something he'd been having to deal with for this long in sickness that easily. "How about," He began in a loud voice, standing up to face all the people calling out ideas. "You let me decide, instead of leaving it to a room full of... imbeciles! Just because you all think it's completely fine to sacrifice something, I'm not going to do that to my child!" His face was red with anger as he spoke, the past few days of pain, traveling, and stress overwhelming him. "I know I haven't been... accepting of the situation but... I'm not laying the future of this kid in your bloody hands."

With that, he brushed off himself as to hide the fact he just had another outburst, and slipped back down into his chair, not giving his eye to anyone else in the room.

"Arthur," Elizaveta said gently as he stood, waving a hand to catch his view from across the room. "There could also be a lot of damage caused by raising a child in such an environment, including the threat of other countries." She shot him a look before he could speak, challenging him to interrupt her while she was on her role. "So, I think the best thing for you to do was to raise the child with Francis as normal." She smiled gently as she continued. "But away from all of this. You should act as normal parents. Give it a normal life. When it reaches 18, you could tell them about this. And they could either choose to continue on as a human and move on, or stay in this life. Like... with Bence..."

Arthur hardly caught Alfred's worried eyes as he trailed around the room. He shot his glance back, noticing, indeed, Alfred seemed troubled by this. Almost as if he was already predicting Arthur was going to say yes. That he was going to break off and leave for who knows how many years.

"Well?" Ludwig muttered, turning to Arthur with a raised brow. "What's your choice going to be? Give it away... or leave?"