Warnings: Pirate!England, broken!Spain... attempted suicide (successful?), English cooking.

Note: This is a co-written story between myself and Akuoni

Don't like don't read.

Reviews are appreciated

Arthur returned to his cabin feeling rather accomplished. Demands had been sent for the return of Antonio. He was even willing to take a bit of a cut in the price for having goods damaged. Especially if they were not willing to submit to his demands. England smirked, Spain would buckle he had a good feeling about it.

Thinking of good feelings, since being in port the pirate had worked on restoring the state of his quarters. It had been rather interesting to watch the crew as he threw the rags of what had been his quarters out. Since then he had been careful about leaving his prisoner free to move about his cabin. The Spaniard was a handful, but he seemed to learn his lesson. It had been tempting to leave him there, pinned to the wall, covered the way he was. But Arthur liked to think of himself as a compassionate man so he let him down, allowed him to be dressed… most the time. Didn't want Spain thinking he could try to flee, people did that less often when they were not dressed.

Antonio was lying down underneath the heavy desk, curled up into a ball. He had tried to find where England kept all those knives, but he never could... And after weeks of trying to find a way to escape... he no longer jumped up when the door opened. He didn't even interact with anyone but el capitán pirata... He wasn't ever hungry anymore... And he felt dirty... He curled up tighter and shivered, hugging one of the new drapes-which he had pulled down to make a nest under the desk-round him like a blanket.

He knew that it was a stupid place to like, but he didn't care. He hadn't eaten in... how long? Three days now? He didn't care... He was tired... He just wanted to sleep. He would probably be punished cause he wasn't eating... But he wasn't hungry... So he didn't eat... and his stomach didn't growl so he knew it didn't mind being empty... He drifted into sleep. And was still asleep when the door opened...

Arthur hung up his coat and hat, careful with the garments as always. His eyes flicked to the window, his curtains were gone again. At least this time there was not a shredded pile of them waiting for him. The sword at his waist joined his coat, the gun removed as he went to his desk. The captain shook his head catching a glimpse of his drapes. Honestly, it was like Alfred hiding from ghosts, futile.

He sat and promptly dug one boot into the side, or was it back, of the huddled mass under his desk. "Get up," he ordered pointing the pistol at it, "And hang my drapery up while you are at it." Arthur had grown use to giving orders to this huddled mass. He kicked Antonio again though he should be referring to the mass as an it rather than the man he started with. "They are not your bedding," he continued watching with mild curiosity.

After this length of time it was to be expected that Anthony would be slower. And probably a bit stiff… a bit sleep deprived… but he seemed to be losing… more. Arthur glanced at the food he left, ah right, the man was making his last stand. Trying to starve himself rather than submit to England's food.

Antonio didn't wake as Arturo searched the cabin for him and the missing drapes. And the harsh treatment barely caused him to stir. He blinked slowly as he rose from the dark depths of sleep and crawled out from under the desk to stand, carrying the drapes as he did. A deep yawn escaped and he ran a hand through mussed hair as he swayed slightly. He just wanted to sleep...

"Si..." he said as his brain caught up with what Inglaterra demanded, his voice barely above a whisper. He stumbled slightly as he moved over to the windows and lethargically began to replace them. He glanced at the food, but he didn't even feel the slightest twinge of hunger... SO he simply returned his attention to the fabric. He turned to la pirata and looked at him blankly. He wondered idly what had brought him to such a good mood...

It didn't matter anymore. He realized that Inglaterra had noticed the untouched food and he shrugged."No tengo hambre..." he said, nodding his head slightly, though it was more a lazy bob. He blinked tiredly, trying to keep from falling asleep on his feet, but he ... He sank to his knees as his eyes closed. "Estoy... Tan cansado..." He murmured as he lay down on the ground and drifted off again...

Arthur's good mood left him watching Anthony. He opened his mouth to demand that Anthony eat but the man was already asleep again. It would not due if the man starved himself to death. Especially since the ransom and the continuation of the gold ships he wanted depended on this man living. Growling he stood placing the gun on the desk. Fine, he'd just force the lazy to eat. It wasn't like it was even his cooking! The crew had barred him from the galley anyway.

The pirate pulled his captive up by the hair, "I didn't say you could sleep again. How long has it been since you ate?" he asked pinning the weaker male against the wall. From his movements and Arthur's lack of him ever eating, it had to be a few days now. Antonio was bloody-minded on killing himself. First the attempts at blowing himself up, second mentioning Francis, third starving himself.

He grunted absently as he felt the pain of being hauled up by his hair, and again when he was slammed against the wall. ~How long?~ He blinked once slowly. He honestly had no idea... He looked up and furrowed his brows trying to remember, but the fact he had started sleeping all the time had thrown his internal clock off. He shrugged as well as he could, pinned as he was.

"No soy... tres dias?" he guessed, picking a random number. Three was a good number, though he couldn't quite recall why right now. He was so sleepy... Why was Arturo making him stay awake? He let his head come down to rest on one of the arms holding him up, blinking up at la pirata dazedly. He tried to stay awake, but each blink took longer and longer to open...

Arthur scowled, three days? He slapped Anthony trying to keep him awake. "You will eat, I do not care if you are hungry or not," he said dropping the man onto the floor. He took a glance at the food; feeding a captive like this was below him. It seemed to be the only way to get him to eat though. Something simple first… Arthur grabbed the water.

"Open," he commanded tilting Spain's head back, "Sorry it's not steel this time." This was like taking care of an invalid. Since the ransom had been sent already he couldn't just dump the body and say he was killed. The thought of the gold ships went though England's mind. That gold was the future prosperity of his country, and making this guy well so just kick his ass again was part of that future. Arthur sighed as he made sure Anthony was propped up properly, he'd first see if the man could even chew for himself.

Antonio didn't even flinch, though the slap was not gentle. Nor did he react to being dumped on the floor. However, he did manage to keep his eye open a little longer... He watched Arturo through the haze of exhaustion that constantly enveloped him nowadays. He supposed that going along with what he was told would let him get more sleep later, so he stood up weakly and leaned rather drunkenly on the wall with his back. He didn't stay vertical long, and soon slid to the ground and turning to his side. He leaned tiredly on the cabin wall, curled up with his hands on his knees. He felt a hand tilt his head back and the rim of a glass at his lips.

At the command, he parted his lips, letting the cool liquid soothe his dry throat. He had drank some during his impromptu fast, but not nearly enough... He reached up rather shakily and tried to drink faster, some spilling over the sides and onto himself in his sudden thirst for the liquid. He licked his lips, and brought the damp parts of the shirt up to capture some of the water that had soaked into the fabric. He sucked on the fabric greedily like a vampire draining his victim dry and only snapped out of it when there was no more moisture to be had. He wasn't nearly as hydrated as his body demanded, but his stomach felt uncomfortable. If he drank anymore he would be unable to eat from the fact his stomach had begun to shrink from disuse. "mas... por favor..."

He watched not surprised when Anthony grabbed the cup trying to drink more. He almost enjoyed the man scrambling trying to get more of the water he wasted in his urgency. Seemed his time of rebelling had ended. Arthur moved the up away running a hand though Anthony's now matted hair, "Only if you eat something," he put the cup down and picked up the bread. Simple enough. And he could tear it into smaller pieces if Anthony refused to chew. England refused to feed Spain any other way…

Arthur held the roll in front of his captive, "Eat this and you will receive more water," he said waiting for the nation to follow his orders again. The pirate's eyes darted to the tray to see what else he had left. Many of the food left would be to hard seeing what state his captive had descended to. Well, mouth to mouth looked like the only option. Like a mother hen feeding her chicks, Arthur smirked. Look at what the price of pride had reduced Spain to.

Antonio's eyes lost focus slightly as he felt exhaustion weigh heavily on himself. The hand in his hair was soothing and he hummed slightly, nodding at the request. He watches as England took the bread. Real bread too, not the blackened monstrosities that poisoned anyone who attempted to eat them... He felt kind of bad for wasting the food, but he still didn't want to eat.

He took the roll in both hands, watching them tremble from the effort to stay up. He looked at England and then back at the roll. He sighed dejectedly and bit into it. He chewed without hunger or urgency, treating it as if it were a chore that regrettably had to be done. Once he finished, he brushed all the crumbs that had fallen into his into one of many scraps of cloth he had squirreled away and folded it up. He looked at England blankly, silently speaking. He had done what he was told. "May I go to sleep now..?" he asked, already drifting off.

Spain had lost so much strength… England watched in slight amazement at the effort it took to eat. No wonder he was so tired, it took all his energy to do something so simple. If the ransom was here now Arthur would glad toss the starving man back and let them work on the nurturing. Unfortunately that was not the case… Arthur hated having to show so much compassion to an enemy nation. It made him seem weak. He took the folded rag from Anthony sighing.

Arthur shook his head grabbing the little cheese he left on the plate, "This as well. Then you may sleep until I return," he said knowing Anthony would need more to eat. He was surprised that he hadn't noticed sooner the forgotten food. Oh well, he'd have to hold off on any fun he wished to have until his captive could put up a fight again. The pirate broke off a piece of the cheese. It was hard, that wasn't his fault to bad for Spain.

"You will eat every meal I give you, if you are hungry or not," Arthur informed the tired nation. He didn't say anything else knowing his captive understood he'd be forced the food if he didn't eat it on his own. Whatever salvageable pride he had left would probably prevent that, so he'd eat, and give another victory to the pirate.

Antonio gave him a blank look, and then glanced at the chunk of cheese Arturo held out to him. His lips twisted slightly, and the mostly healed cut leaked blood from that movement. He picked up the cheese and looked at him, itching to throw it in his face. He wanted to sleep, not eat. And his stomach felt weird having food in it after all this time. He frowned and looked at the innocent piece of dairy. He frowned some more and began breaking it apart.

"Not hungry," he repeated in English, the first time he had used it since he had seen la pirata diablo. But despite his words, he put the smaller pieces in his mouth and ate. He didn't say anything else when the pirate told him to eat. He simply hummed and finished the cheese. He licked his fingers absently and wiped them off on another scrap of fabric. It had been one of the drapes he had torn apart on that first day, just as the other had been. He sat up straight and lay back down, curling up with his back to the Englishman. He closed his eyes and spoke softly.

"I ate. Now let me sleep..."

Arthur grabbed the other man's chin forcing him to look back at him. "Do not presume to start giving me orders Anthony," he snarled seeing how tired the other was. It was truly amazing that the other managed to stay awake at all. He let go and stood. "Rest well because I will be back in an hour, and you will be awake then," Arthur said resisting the urge to kick the fallen man. The only reason to go after Spain was because he was strong. To bring him down was a testament to his own strength, to kick him while down…

He glared at the probably already asleep nation. England promised himself he would never let himself become like that. A push over. Depending on another so desperately to live. Annoyed again the pirate turned on his heel and left the cabin. They would be casting off soon; he needed something else to do. Something, anything besides nurse one of his enemies back to health.

Antonio was already half asleep by the time Arturo grabbed his chin, but he was aware enough to hear what was said. He blinked once, slow as molasses, and grunted. An hour wasn't enough time, but he was glad to have any time at all... He let himself drift off. Dreaming of soft Mediterranean breezes and warm sunlight and delicious tomatoes... And a beloved subordinate who acted so silly. While he slept, his body curled up. Defensive. His arms were wrapped around himself and his knees were at his chest, his head tilted down to touch them...

It hadn't been an hour, Arthur didn't care. The ship would be ready to make sail soon and he had to take care of this inconvenience first. He set down the food he brought and water on his desk. Well, the good thing about this state was he didn't have to worry about his stuff being torn up. Just now Arthur realized he left the loaded gun on his desk.

A heel of a boot collided with Anthony's back, "wake up," Arthur said his voice gruff. This was not out of the kindness of his heart that he was doing this. And his captive better bloody well know that. The same boot nudged again attempting to said captive back. He couldn't help but feel a bit proud knowing that this nation cringed even in his sleep, there was no escape. "You have to eat again, if you eat it all I might let you sleep for longer," Arthur said knowing that would get compliance if nothing else. In the back of his mind though a thought floated, what sounds would Anthony make in this state? Would he still scream when hurt, or would he just fall asleep?

Antonio made a soft sound of pain, waking slowly and with much more effort than he really wanted to put forth. He opened his eye and glared balefully at him before closing it and sitting up slowly. He yawned and stretched, the joints in his back and shoulders popping loudly. Once they stopped popping, he slumped down, barely sitting upright. More food...

"..." He opened his mouth to say something, but instead sighed. He stood up, still shaky, and made his way to the desk where the food sat. He grimaced at the amount on the plate, and winced as the action tore his cut again... He lifted up a piece of bread and looked at la pirata... He suddenly swayed violently and fell against the desk, his fingers latching to the sides to steady himself while the bread fell to the floor. He had lost color from being in the cabin rather than on desk, but he paled further in fear. He wasn't sure what el diablo would do, but he would be angry at the accidental waste of food...

Arthur stood back watching. He didn't lift a finger to help or to stop. Instead his view turned back to where the captive had slept, making sure there was nothing wrong with the spot, such as blood or attempts at tearing up his curtains again. He raised an unconcerned brow hearing a thud. "Do not waste the food," he said his voice dead calm picking up the discarded bread. Still with the same eerie calm as before a storm he placed the bread back on the plate.

HIs body trembled, the shivers rolling through him like waves weaker then stronger then back again, as he clutched at the table desperate to stay upright. He made a strange sound, almost a whimper as he felt his legs trying to buckle. His head hung down, the effort to hold it up too much. He Hated to feel so weak, but he couldn't even stay awake without help... his eyes closed, and his fingers tightened again as he nearly fell over.

"How does it feel being so weak in the face of your enemy? That you depend on me to even live? You are no longer a challenge to me," England whispered pulling Spain back from the desk. Quickly he spun the man around and forced him to sit. He picked up the plate looking down at Anthony sure the man was going to fall asleep on him again. The pirate knew he'd just continue to wake him, becoming annoyed in the process. Moving with care he placed the bread back into his captive's hands, "Drop it again and I will be feeding it to you."

He jumped at a touch, but sagged against it as the other spoke. He sat down heavily on the chair, leaning against the back and letting his head loll. He managed to keep his eyes open, watching Inglaterra move and carry the plate. He shifted to sit up properly and took the roll. He bit into it and suddenly he was starved. He ate it rapidly, catching the crumbs as they fell and sweeping them into his mouth between bites. He was so hungry he'd even be willing to eat Arturo's cooking! The bread was gone far too soon and he eyed the plate, licking his lips like a hungry dog eyes a bone.

"I see we are hungry now," Arthur said handing him the next item on the plate. He remembered the incident with the water and he was not willing to waste food. It was only more bread and cheese anyway. The fruit and dried meat was saved for his crew, again he wasn't willing to waste food. Cheese spoiled far too quickly so it was feed it to the Spaniard or let it go to the sea.

England set the plate down picking up the water his mind going back to the times with his young colony. Alfred ate with the same enthusiasm, even said his cooking was delicious. Arthur pushed the thought aside reminding himself that the child wasn't here. Anthony did not deserve the same compassion, he did this. He weakened himself to this state. "Don't waste the water," Arthur said his voice less harsh than he wished. He needed to get out of this room, before he forgot what Spain was capable of.

Antonio grunted as he finished off the rest of what he was handed. He eyed the plate, wishing there was more. He didn't understand it... He had been losing his appetite gradually for weeks. And now he was suddenly hungry. He sighed. He hadn't even thought of home... Only dreamt... and even those were starting to blur. It had only been a short while... a couple months at the most... But it felt like an eternity...

"..." He held out his hands for the water, carefully taking it. He didn't want to drop it like he had dropped the bread. He closed his eyes for a moment before lifting the cup to his lips. He drank as quickly as he could without spilling- which was actually pretty fast. And soon had the cup drained dry. He smiled absently, the feeling of fullness comfortable this time. Now if only his captor was actually someone he liked... Like Prusia or Francia... Or little Romano... The smile faded into a look of worry. Romano had expected him back by now... What if Ottoman Empire tried to capture him again? His worried look turned pained. Romano would never forgive him if he got captured by that guy while waiting for Spain's return... He needed to get out of here.

"Finish the plate," Arthur said handing the plate over to the captured man. Being so kind to the man was killing him. And Anthony wasn't helping not resisting every step of the way. He refilled the cup with a pitcher sitting nearby and set the cup within Spain's reach. "After that you may sleep again. We are setting sail again, there is suppose to be a good shipment headed back to Europe," he said smiling and picking up the pistol. "You will be locked in the brig before we find them. Don't worry I plan to keep you safe from harm," the pirate chuckled. He hoped to as well during this time find the ship carrying the ransom for Anthony. Leave no survivors, and see receive the ransom. He wouldn't go back on his word to return the Spaniard; it would just be on good grace from England. The country of Spain would just owe them for that safe return.

Antonio didn't need any prodding, grabbing the plate and wolfing down the food as fast as he could. He paused though, eyes widening in shock. The next shipment hadn't been scheduled... not for six months after he was supposed to have gotten home... His hands trembled and the food fell back onto the plate. He was glad he had put the plate on his lap rather than held it.

"¿Ya? Pero ... ¿cómo? El envío ... No iba a ser enviada por otros cinco meses!" He wailed. He couldn't have been there that long... could he? He began to fret, worried about what would come. Oh his leader would be so angry with him... Things were not going well at home and the gold was needed to make things well again. But if Inglaterra continued to take it... Things would stay bad...

Arthur hid a smile behind his hand. Five months? Well that was useful information to keep an eye out for. Usually it was down to the wire predicting when Spain sent out his gold. Well, now that he knew saved him a lot of trouble, though it was best Anthony didn't know. Else when he returned home… no it would be too late by then. "Stop flattering yourself, it is French. Not as great of find as your gold, but useful to calm an anxious crew," he said before motioning to the food. It wouldn't do either of them well if his captive started starving himself again.

The pirate dressed himself to face his crew. It was time they set sail. "Though time does fly when you are having fun, does it not Anthony?" he asked smirking over at the panicked nation. He set his hat atop his head still amused. "Oh and you never answered my earlier question, I'll give you a bit more time to think about it. But how does it feel knowing your life rests so heavily on my decisions?"

Antonio breathed a sigh of relief. ¡Gracias a Dios! At least his ships had a reprieve and some of the lesser shipments might be able to slip by... And the colony Arturo had would rebel against him... There was no way La Pirata would miss his gold... He growled half-heartedly as he returned to his meal. He had another plan... But he had to be careful...

Antonio watched as he dressed, green eyes glittering as he made his plans... He scowled at the appropriate places, hating the way the other acted. There was nothing FUN about being raped, held hostage, or psychologically attacked... And as for having his life in the other's hands... He eyed the almost empty plate. If he broke it he could use the jagged edges... He shrugged and decided to finish everything before he put his plan in motion...

Arthur chuckled; it was funny how a little food changed someone. Letting Anthony have free movement right now he headed out. Of course he had men to watch the door, but honestly how much damage was his captive willing to do right now? He rebelled in any way he would give the pirate a reason to hurt him again. Not that Arthur would mind in the least bit. He shouted out orders as the ship slowly left the harbor.

"The captive should be moved below, fetch him in a few minutes to do so," he ordered taking the helm. That would give more than enough time for Spain to try to save himself any farther humiliation.

Antonio grinned. This was even better. Once he was sure the Pirate was gone, he smashed the empty plate against the desk, shattering it like the heavy clay it was. The grin turned devious as he searched the shards for ... Ah~...

Right there was the perfect one. Now... What to do with it was the question... It was only useful as a weapon for stabbing... The jagged edge was more like a file... He paced for a moment before the thought came to him. He snuggled into his spot under the desk... Inhaled deeply. He was steeling himself for this... If he failed... he would be punished. But if he completed what he had planned... He would be committing a sin... Murder of the self... Suicide...

It wasn't long before the pirate Arthur had ordered to fetch their captive headed to his captain's room. The crew had wondered why the man had been left in this room for so long. Obviously he was the enemy; abet an important one, but the enemy none the less. Dangling the chains in one hand the pirate looked about the room wondering where the captive was. It wasn't like the room was that huge…

That was when he spotted the blood near the desk. He took another step forward before he realized it was fresh… oh no… his captain was going to kill him. The pirate dropped the chains and ran out to inform Captain Arthur. Their captive was dying.

Needless to say Arthur was not pleased to hear this. And was even less pleased to hear the pirate had just left letting the man to try to finish the job. Growling he headed down his quarters, of course not after admitting the appropriate punishment for such a cowardly act. Once inside he didn't bother to put up his things properly, sadly he had to save Spain- again.

Rather angry at this point of Anthony's stupidity Arthur reached under the desk grabbing whatever his hand came in contact first. Sadly for the suicidal man, and the one grabbing him that meant his bleeding arm. Arthur pulled him out and ungracefully deposited him in the middle of the floor. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

Antonio gasped in pain as his bloody arm was gripped harshly. But that wasn't the worst of the pain he realized as he was dragged out, a shrill cry of pain escaping his lips. He was still conscious, though only barely, which was good for the pirate. But that was bad for him... He had expected to be passed out by now. He had wanted to be found too late. Not at the border of life and death...

He sank to the ground as he was released, though his focus never left Arturo's face. His dull green eyes were half-lidded. The look he gave the man could be considered coquettish... had he not been dying. He grinned softly, a shadow of his usual one. Mocking him with the answer. His eyes flickered to the jacket he was still wearing, and wavered, confusion colouring it...

"'Stoy m'riendo..." he said quietly, "no más de oro para el pirata a tomar..." He closed his eyes tiredly, though they opened again. Letting his head loll to a more comfortable position, he simply gazed at the place his head had chosen blankly. He smiled oddly as he saw the holes where the chains had been stuck to the wall. Of course he would have to look there. The first sin committed in this room... and he was going to commit the second...

...Suicide...

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