My Firearm is My Friend

No one really knew what America's current condition was. Not Japan, not France, not Germany, not even England- the person who was closet to Alfred- had no idea what kind of the state the personified nation was in. When Arthur had seen the attack report on the news early that September morning his blood ran ice cold in his veins. His lungs tightened so much in his chest that it hurt to take even the shallowest of breaths. The Briton's head spun and the whole world seemed to slow down in that one instant he saw the video footage of the twin towers falling prey the flames of explosions and people jumping from the dizzying heights of the buildings- choosing to fall to their deaths rather than be burned alive. Arthur's slim pale hands began to tremble causing the murky brown liquid in his tea cup to splash up over the rims of the porcelain object and fall to the floor where they would lay forgotten until they sank into the wood, causing water stains.

He brought the tea cup back onto its saucer and roughly placed it on the table. The Briton pushed his chair back with a loud screech before he unceremoniously rushed for the telephone in his state of panic. Arthur snatched the phone off the hook, dropping it once in his haste before he cursed and picked the electronic back up. His fingers quickly traced over the familiar numbers of Alfred's phone number. The Briton waited all too impatiently; tapping his foot and drumming his fingers on the granite counter tops of his kitchen.

After a few rings there was click from the other end of the line that sat all way across the Atlantic Ocean, "Hey! What's up?" Alfred's cheery voice echoed and Arthur's ear and made the Brit sigh heavily with relief.

"Oh Alfred, thank god. I was so worried about you. I just saw the attack on the telly and,"

"I'm not here right now so just leave your name and number I'll get back to soon, later!" Arthur's heart sank down into the deepest pits of his stomach as he realized it was only the answering machine and the bright ball of endless energy himself. Alfred not answering his phone only caused Arthur's fear and anxiety to sky rocket and his heart thump wildly in his chest. The Briton gave up on that line and decided to do the next best thing. Call Alfred's younger twin brother, Matthew.

Arthur's hands were trembling and he messed up a few times as he tried to remember the Canadian's phone number- he cursed to himself several times before finally he got it right. Patience was a virtue in Arthur's eyes, but it was also a horrible one to bear when you were as anxious as he was by this point in time. It took a few seconds before the other end of the line clicked and a shy nervous voice echoed into Arthur's ear. "H-hello? I'm sorry… but can we make this quick I'm very busy at the moment…"

"Matthew? It's Arthur."

"Oh, h-hi Arthur… um… I-I'm guessing you saw the stuff on the news, eh?" The Canadian's voice was heavy and grim as he inquired upon Arthur's knowledge of the situation.

"Unfortunately yes I did… um… y-you haven't spoken to Alfred at all… have you?" Arthur hung forward on his hopes even though he already knew that they were only going to be shattered.

"No… I haven't…. But it's chaos where I am right now. M-my country's airports are trying to take in as many American airplanes as we can since the New York air port is obviously out of commission…" The shy boy explained. Of course. The hope Arthur was standing on gave out from under him sending him back down into his silent despair. "You haven't heard from him, h-have you?" Matthew sounded hopeful though Arthur could tell he was also preparing himself for disappointment.

Arthur shook his head- not really remembering that Matthew couldn't see the motion. "No I haven't…. I tried calling his phone not but a minute ago and I got his voice mail…."

"Oh…" Was all that escaped the Canadian nation's lips. Both ends of the line were left heavy with silence for several moments. Not wanting to deal with the uncomfortable silence Matthew continued first, "I'm really w-worried about him…. I don't know what kind of effects the attacks took on his body, but judging the footage on TV… it can't be good…."

Arthur briefly remembered back to WWII and the London Blitz. The effects of Germany's bombs attack his country night after night had left the British nation barley hanging onto his last scraps of life. He shuddered at the phantom pains that squeezed within the depths of his chest as he recalled all the horrible memories of the ordeal. "No… no it can't…" Arthur wanted to fly, swim, run, walk, anything that would get him across the pond to New York and by Alfred's side it didn't matter how difficult it was he had to get there. Still… he couldn't just leave. For all he knew whoever it was that attacked America could be planning to attack his country as well. It was all just a dangerous waiting game filled with anxiety and paranoia.

"I know how you're feeling…" Matthew's voice interrupted the Briton's unending reel of darkened thoughts. "You want to see him, right?" Arthur pressed his lips together and took a shallow breath. "Believe me if I could be right next to him I would… he's my brother, Arthur. He means the world to me…. But right now I'm needed here, and even though it's against what I want I have to listen to my boss." The pain that lined the shy Canadian's voice was obvious enough. He was feeling just as awful as Arthur was.

Arthur licked his dry lips and took in another shaky breath before slowly replying, "Yes… I suppose you're right…. Please… if you hear anything, call me immediately… promise me."

"… I promise."

Brief words of farewell were exchanged the British and Canadian nations before the lines went dead and left empty and silent. Arthur quietly placed the telephone back on the receiver. He shuffled ever so slowly back into the living room where his trembling legs barely managed to hold him up long enough until he collapsed back down into his chair where his afternoon tea was now left abandoned to go cold. The Briton leaned forwards, placing his elbows on his knees and burying his face deep into his pale skinned hands. He drew in shaky breath before slowly exhaling through pursed lips as he struggled to fight of the tears. He only prayed that where ever Alfred lay at the moment that he was safe and well taken care of since crossing the Atlantic Ocean was not an option.

The next day Arthur was left hot and itchy in his traditional guard uniform of thick red and black cloth. The enormous bear fur hat on his head made the Briton's scalp sweat and his bangs stick to his forehead- the gold locks blocking his green eyed gaze. The British nation dared not brush the hair from his eyes as he was meant to look sharp and stay in perfect time as he marched at the head of the Royal Guards fleet- rapier held stiffly in one arm. Arthur and the fleet of uniform synchronized guards marched together into the front Garden of Buckingham palace where hundreds upon hundreds of British citizens were pressed up against the gates with stoic and tear streaked faces.

Arthur came to a halt, snapping his free arm to his side and standing still as a stone statue. As captain he drew in deep breath and shouted his command, "Full company present arms!" The regiment obeyed his command, snapping to present their rifles in perfect time together. Within a few moments and after a couple more commands the Royal Marching Band began to play a tune that Arthur knew all too well.

The Star Spangled banner rung proud and true in the heart of the country that America had broke away from nearly two and a half centuries ago. It was a good thing years of being a part of the Guard had conditioned Arthur to remain stoic and expressionless even though on the inside his heart was collapsing into a black hole of nothingness and despair. There was still no information on Alfred's current condition and it was tearing the Briton up inside. He had no idea whether his best friend was alive and well or hanging over the edge of death. Not knowing was what scared Arthur the most.

Still here he was standing with the guard as they paid tribute to Britain's former colony and honored America in what must've been his darkest hour.

"If nations are people and national anthems are their lullabies then here was mother England singing to her grieving American child."

Arthur's queen gave a small laugh as she brought her favorite porcelain teacup to her lips, "Whoever said that line truly has no idea how right they are." She daintily sipped her tea with the utmost poise and grace. Arthur sat on the chair across from her; a table of thinly sliced cucumber sandwiches, freshly baked scones still warm from the oven, and cakes and cookies of all assortments, all surrounded by small sliver cups filled with cool clotted cream and sweet fruit preserves. Usually the Queen had her afternoon tea with her friends and family, but after the ceremony in front of the palace she had requested that only Arthur accompany for the traditional British ritual.

Arthur enjoyed his tea time just as much as the next person, but today all he could do was stare blankly into the cup and back at his reflection on the rippling surface of the steaming liquid. He felt no urge to sip his tea with her and enjoy a scone- he only wanted to sit there and just stare into his cup.

The Queen brought her cup back down to its saucer- placing it on the plate with a barely audible clink. She sensed Arthur's distress and decided to act upon it, "You're very worried, Arthur. You would give anything to be over there, I can see it in your eyes."

Arthur slowly looked up at her and blinked once or twice before he responded, "No of course not your majesty. I am honored to be enjoying afternoon tea with you, and I'm sorry I haven't been very lively even though you so graciously offered me your invitation." If it was one thing Arthur knew how to do it was to hide his emotion and talk his way out of discussing them. "Please forgive me. Now what was it we were discussing earlier?" Arthur put his own worries and problems in the way back of his mind to the place where he usually kept them when they weren't need. The Briton reached for his tea cup and took a sip only to find that somehow his usual beverage of choice did not fancy his tastes.

"I'm not going to become annoyed with you because you have feelings, Arthur. Human, animal, or Nation, all living things have thoughts and feelings." She took another small sip of her tea. "So tell me Arthur, what exactly are you feeling right now; and don't you try to hide something from me."

Arthur was reluctant, more than reluctant. He never shared his feelings with anyone, but himself and occasionally with random strangers when he became drunk. "Well I…" He trailed of and hesitated once more.

"Please dear, do not be afraid of me. I am your friend first and your Queen second." She smiled gently as if she were a mother having a heart to heart with her child. To her, Arthur was just as much her child as she was his, as a nation that was.

"Well I… I'm very… a-afraid. I'm afraid because… well… I don't know…"

"You don't know what?"

"No, I literally don't know. I'm not sure if Alfred is alright and taken care of or if he's lying face down on his apartment floor…. Not knowing if he's alright… that's what terrifies me…."

The Queen took Arthur's thoughts into consideration and processed them before giving her well educated response. "I understand the idea of not knowing is very scary. I too wish I knew if Mr. Jones is well. I've only crossed paths with him on a few occasions, but he seems to be a very dear sweet boy." Arthur merely nodded his head in agreement; not really want to exaggerate on his feelings of Alfred.

"Despite what may have happened in our pasts… Alfred is still a dear friend to me. He may be stubborn, and insufferable, and incompetent and-." The Queen cut him off.

"I understand; he's difficult to handle." She laughed a little as she stopped Alfred from continuing to use every other word in the dictionary to describe the American nation.

"Oh, r-right… well… even though Alfred does have his faults and short comings he… he is very dear to me… and… I can't imagine life without that goofy looking grin of his."

"Sounds like you're in love," The Queen smiled coyly.

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur could feel the embarrassed blush spreading over his cheeks.

"Oh nothing, just thinking to myself out loud. But the bottom line in this situation is that you must get over to America and find Alfred and make sure he is alright." Arthur nodded his head in agreement. "Then it's settled. I hereby excuse you from any duties you may have and I shall have you flown off to America tomorrow morning."

Arthur nearly spilt his tea all over his lap. "E-excuse me? I'm sorry your Majesty, but I simply cannot do that. There is much that I have to handle here. I- I have a meeting with the prime minister and one with parliament a-as well as guard duties. I also have a cat at home that I can't just leave to go on some sort of adventure a-and-!"

"Well alright, then I order you. Now don't worry about a thing, love. I will handle everything, you just get yourself all packed up and be ready tomorrow, I'll have a driver come and pick you up at your home." And with that statement it was said and done. Once the Queen had made her decision Arthur knew that the woman would not give up until Arthur himself gave up and gave in. So persistent she was.

Arthur only smiled the smallest of smiles and thanked his gracious queen.

I'm coming for you, Alfred.

So yeah, second chapter is pretty Arthur centric, but whatever. You'll see what happened to Alfred next chapter. So in any case please, please, please, pleeeaaase review. Hearing feedback from my readers means the world to me and help inspires me to write more. It's very greatly appreciated. Thank you lovies! 3