"The Black Death? Wasn't that when you caught something off of the Silk Road?" Alfred cringed as Arthur inspected his arm more. "You did recover, and your population, but didn't it, well..."
"It did, and I don't want you to die because of it it either." He stood up and collected himself. That death wasn't one he wished to remember. "I haven't seen this in centuries. How could you have it now?"
"Arthur, if its the bubonic plague, it should have come from a bite." Matthew looked closer at the infected arm. "Alfred, which of your states has been getting sick lately?"
"Mainly Maine, Vermont, and New Hampshire, why? How does that matter?"
"Alfred, it matters because you're a nation." When Arthur got it so long ago, he didn't get it in a usual spot for it to begin, but the part of his body relative to the part of his country. "It starts usually in your armpit or neck, not on your arm."
"Wait, so I'll need to contain them? What if it spreads to the rest of my arm?"
"I... I don't know. Its already serious, but this plague spreads with fleas. Fleas usually travel on rats, Alfred."
"Rats... The cities. New York is..."
"Alfred, its... Its doomed. The subways will be contaminated, the streets and alleys taken." If it was in America, that would mean it would spread to Canada. Matthew would be in the same position. It would spread over North America, then South America, and maybe even Europe if the wrong person travels.
Arthur laid his hand on Alfred's unaffected arm, but shot back a moment later. His breathing speed up, his heart beating just a bit faster than before. Soon Arthur's hand was on Alfred's forehead, and the story was the same. "Alfred, you're burning up."
"Get me out of here. I can't get anyone else sick like this."
The three were at America's house, with Arthur on a call with Francis. "Please Francis, he needs his family with him now." I need you with me, he thought to himself, I need my family with me through this.
Francis could hear his voice cracking. He remembered being at Arthur's side when he finally gave up. He was in so much pain that day, and he had to live it again when he died. "Arthur, it is going to take me some time. I cannot get to America from France as fast as I need to."
"Please, just hurry."
"I will. I always do."
Francis hung up, leaving Arthur alone. Not alone in a literal sense, but it was a feeling of being helpless. We may argue, but I really am stronger with him. I hope he comes soon...
"Arthur, its spreading. I can feel it. Someone in New York has it." New York had to have been one of his favorite states. Maybe it was the lights of Manhattan, the bit of peace in Brooklyn; its been there since the original thirteen- it couldn't go down now. "Everything's going so fast, my entire arm is almost covered."
"I know, I know. Its going to get a lot worse before it gets better."
"Artie, when you had it, were you scared?"
"Well..." What was he supposed to say? Lie and try to make him believe everything would be fine? Tell the truth to comfort, or maybe worry, him? "Yes, I was. When I first got it I was expecting to heal in just a few days, but I was more wrong than ever. It only got worse- I couldn't think for most of the time because of the pains in my head, I was cold one moment and hot the next. I was dying from the outside in; my skin was deteriorating by my hands and feet. I could barely walk, I was too weak. When I died, it was almost-"
Tears were coming to his eyes. Not Alfred's, or Matthew's, but Arthur's. "I.. I'll be back in a moment." He left the room and closed the door, he could not be heard. Trying to choke back sobs, he spoke to no one in particular. "I can't do this. I just can't. I don't want to relive this." He took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and walked back in.
Hey guys! I'd just like to say that thanks for the reviews (and only after only one day of this story being up, just wow) and they always help! To be honest, this chapter did not go as I planned it. At all. I'm probably going to change the story arch now, but if you do have any ideas, please review and tell me! I'll read them all, and they do inspire me to keep writing.
