Okay, I forgot to mention last time, but the characters are REALLY OOC. Just warning you.
.o0O0o.
A.P.O.V.
"Alfred." I felt someone tug at my arm. I ignored them. "Alfred," the person repeated, louder this time. I ignored him again. "Alfred!" His equivalent of a shout was heard. I ignored him. "Alfred, stop!"
I finally registered his words. I did stop, and then I collapsed onto Russia's chest. I felt something wet something wet running down my cheeks and soaking Russia's shirt. Tears? I was crying? The realization only made me cry harder.
"I'm sorry," I whispered into his chest. "I'm so sorry." I sobbed into his shirt as he just lay there without reaction.
I could hear Mattie speaking in soft tones to the still unconscious Prussia. Eventually Prussia regained consciousness, but I just kept crying into Russia's shirt. He was still unresponsive. After some time, I was too tired for any more tears. I lay there, collapsed on Russia's chest, until I passed out from exhaustion.
R.P.O.V.
My shirt was wet. There was weight on my chest. America? Were those tears that had soaked my shirt?
My mind was slowly regaining its previous responsiveness. I raised a hand and put it on the blonde head lying on my chest. He balled my shirt in his hands.
"Amerika?" I felt his chest widen and shrink as he took in a deep breath before letting it out as a sigh. "Are you alright?" I heard him mumble something. "What?"
I leaned in as he repeated himself again and again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I am so sorry, Russia."
"Amerika?" I was confused. He shook his head, just repeating himself again and again. I was genuinely puzzled. "What are you apologizing for, Amerika?" He sighed again, but just continued to repeat himself. He sighed once more and stopped talking. Eventually, I felt him take a deep breath as if he were about to speak, but another voice beat him to it.
"Russia. Birdie and I are going to the clinic. If you or America are coming, get up and hurry up."
I looked up to see Prussia holding a scarlet-soaked towel to his face. His nose was badly broken, twisted off to the side, and there was a large gash above his eye, as well as his multiply split lips.
"You look like shit, da?" He frowned for a moment, but loosened his muscles as he discovered that the pose hurt.
"Thanks to you. You look pretty horrible yourself."
I shrugged, feeling America's head shift on my chest. "I will be ready in a moment, da?"
He nodded and walked towards the kitchen.
I sighed and looked down at the blonde on my chest. "Amerika?"
He sighed and slowly pushed himself up. "I'll ready in a sec."
I noticed that the frames of his glasses were bent out of shape and had no left lense, and the right one was badly cracked. There were small, red cuts all around his eyes, and a few had glass sticking out of them. The lense? And then I remembered punching the man who had tried to hold me back, seeing his glasses shatter, seeing his blue eyes fly shut in an attempt to protect them. That had been America. I felt a sudden surge of guilt, but quickly pushed it away. Guilt would make me suffer.
A few minutes later, our small group of four set out to the clinic.
I was silent, walking straight and undeterred.
Prussia was quietly hissing curse words under his breath as he cradled the red towel to his wounded face.
Canada was walking quietly, clutching the white animal that I had seen earlier to his chest. I saw a few ugly yellow bruises forming to match his already black eye. Holding struggling people means a few elbows to the face sometimes.
America walked completely silently, not saying anything. His shoulders slumped, as if he wished he could just melt into himself and disappear.
I wanted to talk to him, but not with Prussia and Canada right there. He didn't speak to me, either, so we both walked in silence.
A.P.O.V.
When we got to the clinic, the nurse completely flipped. Soon we had a team of over-reacting women treating us.
They insisted on Prussia going to the hospital for stitches and his badly broken nose, and they nearly sent Russia as well. His nose was slightly fractured, and he had a small wound on his forehead as well as a fist imprint on his cheek and a black eye, which was apparently enough to go to the hospital. He silenced them with a glare.
They fussed over me, worried that glass from the broken lense had gotten into my eye. None had, thought there was a small piece stuck in my eyelid.
They insisted on plucking each piece of glass out of each cut with a sharp pair of tweezers. I winced at the first one but managed to keep a poker face for all the others.
Oh well. I deserved the pain, after all.
.o0O0o.
Yay, chapter two is done! Sorry it took me so long, but my writing app was acting up quite a bit. Not to mention Spring Break. So, yeah. Sorry. But here it is! I hope you enjoyed it. Anyways, the last question was:
Who is America's brother?
The answer is... drumroll please... Canada! Sadly, the only person who answered was Stylexo. Please, more people answer this time! So, the question now is:
Who is Canada's "papa?"
Please answer! You get a one-shot if you do!
Thank you for reading. This is another chapter from sadhetalian.