London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady

A USUK FANFIC

Chapter 2. And it has begun -Attack-

After a cup of calming earl grey, England felt much better as he sat down to continue knitting the new bedspread he had been working on for quite some time. He had many times cursed himself for starting such a huge project, but at the same time he needed a challenge, and frankly he was tired of knitting pillows and tea covers. He had enough of those already.

He clicked his tongue as he started to remove the two roads of knitting he just had done. Really now, this is the second time he did the same mistake!

"What's wrong with me today", he thought tiredly as he started anew, while studying the pattern beside him thoroughly. As the day went by, the clock turning early afternoon, England had been having a lovely, well needed quit time for himself. This was rare, though more than often a very loud American would storm in at about this time, turning his peaceful day into chaos. It really did seem that the young nation didn't have anything better to do than to annoy him, or so it seemed some days.

England sighed at this. He wouldn't admit it, and that especially to himself, that he did in fact enjoy the other nations company. Well, from time to time at least.

Actually, he might even say that he had a special place in his heart for him. I mean, he had been the one raising him as a colony, and when he was small he had loved him most dearly. But this time it was different.

After the revolution, their relation hadn't been very good, and it was only as of late that they had been on much friendlier terms. As Allies. And maybe even as Friends.

But it was not as merely a friend that Alfred held a special place in his heart. No. It was something else.

Not that he ever would tell him. No, no bloody way in hell! England was content at keeping it to himself, instead of taking his chances (really now, what chances) and get rejected.

I mean, why in the world would he love me?, England thought.

But I do. I really do love him.

When England realized in what direction his thoughts suddenly had wandered he blushed deeply and buried his face in his knitting. Really now, what was he thinking! he thought as he peeked out from the half done bedspread. Admitting it, even if only in his own thoughts, was hard, and I made his heart clenched when he thought about how it could never be true.

A lone tear then suddenly fell from his eye, and upon realizing that England quickly wiped it way with his sleeve.

"No point in crying about it" he said, as he looked down on his knitting needles to try continuing what he was currently doing before his thoughts interrupted him. "Shedding tears won't change a thing."

...

America couldn't take it anymore. He had to get out of here! he thought, as he restlessly jumped up and down in his seat. Couldn't it be lunch sooner! he whined, as he grimaced at the clock hanging on the wall. It was not even close to lunch time yet.

"Oh man",he sighed as he slumped even further in his seat, causing Canada to glare at him, and telling him to sit up straight and pay attention to the meeting. Really, Canada was acting just as England would in these kinds of situations.

A sudden sad expression was then plastered on the americans face. "I miss England...", he mumbled quietly as he hit his head on the table. Nobody heard, except a rather amused Canadian.

...

Even though the meeting had taken a rather fun spin two hours or so before lunch, when a certain ex-nation decided to crash the meeting, upsetting a very strict Germany. Germany had yelled so loud that many of the nation's now were afraid they might have lost their ability to hear.

America had just laughed in his seat at the silly Prussian, which had been chased around the room by his brother until he got kicked out by said, very enraged brother.

Even with that little stunt, the lunch was far from there, America groaned as he continued to pretend to listen and being bored.

...

As England finally had managed to calm himself down, he began to try with his knitting once more. As he was just trying to do the first stitch, he felt a loud pounding in his chest, making him flinched in surprise and shock.

Before he had the chance to think about what had happen, another loud, and much stronger beat shook his entire frame, making him drop his knitting needles to the floor with a silent thud.

And then it all went to hell.

Another pounding in his chest made him drop on his knees, gasping for air as his hands wandered to his chest, or more precisely to his heart. It was pounding all too fast, making him shiver in pain on the floor.

From nowhere, another ripping wave of pain suddenly washed through him and he screamed. He was now on all four on the floor, gasping for air as new waves of pain ran through his body without ever seeming to stop, only growing more painful by the minute.

He tried to stand up, but failed when he felt the most terrifying feeling he had ever felt in his entire life. He didn't even care to muffle out his scream of pain when he felt his chest opening, as if he was being ripped open with a knife, and blood pouring out on his living room carpet. Panting, and holding in more screams he forced himself up, taking support from the doorpost as he heaved himself up on his legs. Blood dripping and oozing from various cuts all over his slender body made long trails as he stumbled towards the kitchen.

He needed to call someone. He needed to call his boss. Or else. Or else he was going to die ,England thought, as he grimaced as a new wave of pain ran over his back and spine, opening up a new wound on his left leg. He now had troubled walking, and soon he collapsed in the hallway, just infront of the kitchen. He then began to crawl, dragging his pain stricken body over the cold floor as his breathing got weaker and weaker and is arms where screaming of exhaustion.

Something was wrong. Really wrong. Someone had attacked him, but who and why?

His thoughts as his mind started to get foggy and his eyes cloudy as he began to have trouble seeing even a few meters ahead of him.

"I'm going to die." was the last thought that went through England:s mind as his eyes dropped and all went blank.

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