Chapter 3
Heavens gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm falling
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the 18th story
And all I scream for you
Hurry I'm falling,
I'm falling
I groan, every part of me in agony.
Is this what its like to die?
I struggle to breath, thrashing around, my bones feeling like they were on fire. A hand restrains me, feeling like claws raking into my skin, producing a yell from me. I open my eyes, my vision swimming as a million people swarm around me, one bent over me. He looked like he was yelling, his hand on my shoulder, shaking me. Amoung the confusion and the pain I can hear shouts, screams, cries, and a few yells in strange garbled voices. I can't understand anything, the pain driving out all thought.
Why was I in so much pain, did something happen?
I struggle to adjust my eyes, trying to focus on the person yelling at me, shaking me. My vision goes red and my eyes roll back, my world going black. I hear a yell in anguish, the voice coming through loud and clear before my world went silent.
"ALFRED!"
888
Lights being shinned in my eyes, a feeling of a mask pressed over my nose and mouth. The strong taste of prue oxygen streaming into me, making me cough slightly. I try to move, to yank it off but my vision leaves me, along with a blinding flash of pain as I moved my arm. I hear a soft voice, my hand reaching instinctively toward it. It felt comforting to me, in my state of pain and misery. I feel something clasp it tight, rough and weathered, like a hand. I cling tightly to the hand, starting to smile. I groan as a crippling pain grips my heart and then I black out, the hand being snatched away.
888
I wake up, feeling volts of electricity fllowing through me, my hands twitching. A blinding pain is keeping me in a fog, unable to focus enough to make a thought. I hiss, feeling myself being moved onto a softer place, a feeling of metal in my arms.
What happened?
Why am I hurting?
I just want the pain to go away. I feel somebody open my eyes, seeing a blurred image of a doctor, I assume. I struggle as a blinding light is shone into my eye, my eye wanting to close. I was already in pain, I didn't need the slight annoyance to plague me as well.
The light is moved, my eyes flickering open, "Sir, can you hear me..." The voice sounds like its a football field away, the words just barely reaching my damaged brain.
I moan, trying to get up in my confusion. Some people try and restrain me, not wanting me to injure myself anymore. Despite being in terrible pain, I fight them off, easily throwing the weak doctors off of me. Suddenly I feel two hands pressing againt my chest, forcing me back onto the bed. I can't move from under the force, still trying to flee, my response to the adreniline coursing through me.
"He's Amer... he...won..t...g...down." The voice says, "Tie...m...dow...no..w." The voice is shaky, as if its trying not to cry. My condition not letting me hear the words clearly, just bits and pieces of the sentences.
I feel something tugging at my wrists and legs, straps being placed over them. I stop struggling, the bonds holding me down.
What's going on?
Why is this happening?
My vision starts to improve, slowly but surely. The hands stay down on my chest, holding me down despite me no longer trying to move. The arms are shaking slightly, as if scared, or troubled. I look up, seeing dirty blonde hair, and orbs of green peeking from under them, the rest blacked out. It clears up more, allowing me to see the busy brows on his face, the orbs turning into green eyes.
And all I need is you
And all I scream for you
Hurry, I'm falling
"Art...er" I say, my voice coming out choked, my breath fogging up the breathing mask.
England jumps, looking down on me, "Don't talk Alfred...please, just rest." He says, his sea green eyes watering dangerously, his voice cracking. The sight makes my heart twist, wanting to reach out and embrace him despite my own pain. "Save your strength." He gasps out, sniffing.
The blue drops fall onto my face, and my blood soaked clothes, a breif relief from the blinding, buring pain coursing through me. Worse than hell itself. Another drop and spread of relief, as if the futile tears were trying to heal a broken body, a body too far gone to save. I close my eyes, flexing my hands as another smoldering pulse goes through me. I don't even know what's hurting the most, I'm just a bundle of pain at this point. I look up at England, seeing him start to cry.
What happened?
Why am I hurt?
I gasp as it all comes back to me and look sadly up at England, my eyes blurring up.
The fall.
The exploding pain.
Him carrying me to the hospital in his own arms.
I even spot his once white shirt covered in my crimison blood. He must've saw me jump, and then been right there as I suffered until he got me to an ambulance, where I had had a heart-attack. He had been there the whole time.
He had shook me.
He had yelled my name when I blacked out.
He had held my hand.
He was the soothing voice, the only voice that got through my pain filled haze.
England, what have I done to you?
I feel my hot tears running down my face, seeing the former empire before me crumble, broken hearted, just like in the revolution. I had made him cry once more, something I vowed I would never do again. I had hurt him, not physically, but his heart, it was broken.
"I'm..." I cough, red splotching the plastic mask, "Sorr..y...bro...so s...orr..y." I manage out, England struggling to stop from crying. I take a deep breath, hoping my words could come through, feeling something holding me down, trying to silence me. "I...I..." I almost black out, managing to stick around. I wasn't giving up, I wanted to tell him how I felt, about my dad... "I...lov..."
I groan as I fall, my eyes becoming vacant, dim. I'm still there, though, but barely.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to yell.
To call for the one person I cared about more than anything in this world.
I wanted to yell to the ends of the world.
I love you!
England goes frantic, yelling at the doctors and shaking me slightly. His cries of Alfred falling on deaf ears. My vision fades, my eyes staying focused on his tear stained face. He was yelling my name, as if that alone would save me, bring me back to him. To give him back his little America.
Why did this have to happen?
WHY?
Show me what its like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can do
And say it for me,
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if its worth saving me
Hurry, I'm falling
I wake up, the feeling of being rushed down a hall, slamming into the doors, the doctors frantic around me. The lights above me are passing by so fast, its making me dizzy. I close my eyes, tears still flowing.
Where was England?
Amoung the sea of people around me I didn't spot his warm eyes, the sea green orbs that brought me back. The rough weathered hands that had held me when I was little and had carried me when I was hurt was nowhere to be felt. Only the rubber covered hands of the doctors. No kind voice to carry me through the darkness, kept me there. Only hurried voices of the doctors and the sound of banging doors. I wanted Arthur, my dad, I needed him. I wanted all the pain to go away. I hiss and clench my fists, the molten pain in my legs and everywhere a constant reminder that I was still alive. But the coals were dying, slowly calming down, the pain fading. I could see a bright light, brighter than anything I've ever seen.
A white light.
I groan, I didn't want to die, I wanted to live. I felt like I was floating away, the pain slowly subsiding. I sigh, the will to fight gone. A single tear hits the white tile floor as I close my eyes for good.
I didn't even get to say good bye.
And say it for me,
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if its worth saving me
"AAHHHHHH!" I yell sitting up in the bed.
My heart races in my chest, my hands shaking terribly, my eyes wide in the dark of my room. My skin was slick with the cold sweat, my life flashing before my eyes. I was in shock, not understanding what was going on, still halfway in the dream state. I jump, fully awake as the door to my room opens up wide, England standing in the frame.
"Alfred?" He says, looking at my terrified state. "Are you ok?" he rushes to my side, only in his blue boxers, seeing the tears streaming down my cheeks.
Tears that had been flowing as I slept.
I hold my hand over my heart, balling up my fists as more tears streamed down my face. I shake my head, closing my eyes as England clings to me, hugging me tightly. Trying to comfort me from the demons haunting me. This was the second day that I had had that dream, since the day I had been saved by England. The day I tried to get rid of America for good. Since that dreadful day I had been kept under a careful eye, not even being allowed to watch the news or talk to my boss. And for good reason. England shushes me, rubbing my back as I sobbed into his shoulder. I was shaken, I admit, having a break down and jumping off a building will do that to a man. England was doing his best to calm my fears, my pain, my hurt, but it was futile. I was scared, scared of myself and my dream. And what had made the dream so scary was how close it was to being the truth.
"Its ok, Iggy's here." England says, trying to calm me down.
I hug him tightly, not wanting to lose him, not wanting him to leave like he did in the dream. I didn't want to be alone, I didn't want to say good bye. My body trembles in the adrenline rush my dream had given me. I was breathing rapidly, my arm still paining from England catching me. His back was wrapped up, tiger balm constantly being slathered onto it. My weight wrentching it pretty badly. But, he walked as if he was brand new, not showing the pain I knew he was feeling. Both my arms were still messed up, throbbing even now.
I shiver as I think about how badly I could've been hurt, or the possibilty of me not feeling any pain any more.
I was still fearful and unsure about myself, feeling the mixed emotions pulse through me, fighting each other for dominance. No nations besides my family and my best friend Japan was allowed to see me. Russia had tried, but France had almost declared war on him along with England, the two standing united for the first time in a long time. England sits me up, looking into my trembling blue eyes as I calmed down.
England looks right into my eyes, his eyes searching for answers, "Alfred..." He pauses, seeing my eyes tear up again, "Are you going to tell me what the dream is about?" I close my eyes and shake my head. He sighs, hugging me close to his bare chest, "Its ok, you can when you're ready. ok?"
I nod, burying my face into his shoulder. I hear somebody pause at the door. I timidly lift my head up, spying Canada looking in, his blue eyes looking around woeriedly. Kumajirou pads along beside him, surprisingly qiuet for a full grown polar bear.
"Alfred?" He says, Kumajirou peeking in under Canada's arm.
England looks back, sighing as he saw the concern on Canada's face, "He's alright, a nightmare is all." He says, managing a slight smile.
Canada's worried face relaxes, sighing out in relief, "Ok. Good night, eh." He says, closing the door behind him.
I see England move to get up when I cringe, grabbing his wrist, stopping him. He looks down on me, seeing me shaking, clutching onto his wrist for dear life.
"Eng...England? Please...sleep in here with me?" I plead, "I don't want to be by myself." I say, my blue eyes looking up, pleading, begging him to stay, "I don't want you to leave me."
England looks down at me, staring into my desperate eyes, his green eyes melting in response. He couldn't say no to this face. He sighs, "Ok, scoot over." He pulls the covers up, slipping into the bed as I moved.
I make room for him, England pulling the covers over him, his back to me. I put my back up against his, feeling more comfortable as I felt his presence right beside me. I take a deep breath and smile, feeling his heartbeat against mine. It felt soothing, calming, comforting. It was like all my troubles melted away, leaving me feeling like I was little America again, a colony under England. I missed this, him being there for me. I missed England more than ever now, wishing I had stayed a colony like Australia did. Maybe I would have been better off than I was. I close my eyes, feeling the weariness of sleep overcome me, the dream causing havoc on my exhausted brain. Soon, our deep breaths are the only thing heard in the room, sleep claiming me in a black curtain, no dreams plague me now.
888
England sits up, hearing America's deep breaths sounding throughout the the room. America's old room when he had been under England's care, just like he was now. England sits up, looking back at America, looking sadly down on the sleeping nation. His heart cringed, thinking back two days ago. He had almost lost America forever, and it had an effect on all the nations close to America. Not just his family, but his friends, including Italy, Prussia, even Germany and Russia seemed changed from the news of America trying to disappear. He didn't have a lot of friends, but the ones he did have, the family members, the best friends, the enemies, were changed forever. England looks down on the nation, the dim moonlight pouring in from the window, covering America in a silvery light. America looked so peaceful, so happy.
How England wished he was happy.
England gets up from the bed, careful not to disturn America from his slumber. England's feet touches the cold floor, the chill traveling up his spine. He dashes quickly from the bedroom, sighing as his barefeet touched the carpet in the hall. He breathes out, stopping as he saw a light from the living room.
He looks curiously down the hall, "Who would be up at this hour?" He says to himself, heading to investigate who would be up at 4 am.
He walks towards the living room, spotting a figure in the middle of the floor, looking through his photo album. England rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the bright living room light. He spots the guy, long eligant blonde hair atop his head, slightly strewn around. Probably from stress or lack of sleep, in nothing but red boxers, sitting indian style on the ground. The wavy blonde hair could only belong to one of two people, France or Canada. And since England couldn't spot a curl stick straight up like Alfred's, it was only one person.
"Francis." England says, France jumping at the voice.
He looks back at England, whipping the tears from his eyes, "Oh Arthur. I didn't realise you were still up." He says, trying to look normal, "I take it Alfred had a nightmare?"
England walks up to him, nodding, "Yeah." He sits down beside France, surprising the nation as he joined him in looking at the photo album, "What are you looking at?" He asks, France still staring at him strangely, expecting him to treat him like normal, like he did before America tried to end his life.
He moves the book, to let England get a better look at the picture, a few tear drops on the plastic protecting. It was taken years ago, back during the 17 hundreds, when England and France had been younger. It showed the two, fighting and yelling in the background, America and Canada smiling brightly for the cameras. Their first family photo. They were little, almost children at this point. The sight of the picture, brought tears to England's eyes. He was looking at America, seeing the big goofy smile on his face, so carefree and innocent.
What had happened to those simple times, when America was cute and easy to please?
England may have only had America for 20 years, but he still yearned for those days back.
The best days of his life.
A voice interrupts his thoughts, seeing France looking at him, "What ever happened to Alfred, Arthur?" He questions, "What caused him to do this to himself?" France pauses, closing his eyes and looking down, "To us?" He starts to tremble, barely keeping himself together.
England sighs, patting the trembling nation's back, "I don't even think Alfred could answer that..." He breathes out, his own spirit low.
France takes a deep breath, a loud groan coming out. England sniffs, looking at the happy picture, two little kids being kids. All smiles. Him and France fighting in the background made England feel like he hadn't been a good brother to America. Him and France fought over him, like he was a prize to be won, instead of letting America choose for himself. In the end, they had tried to bribe him with food, not letting America be himself. France, seeing the turmoil in England's eyes, hugs him, surprising the former empire.
England growls, "Off me... win...wi.." He sighs, not even able to call him a wino bastard. He clings tightly to France, wishing he could go back in time and take back all the mistakes, raised America better, not being so stern on him. Letting him be himself. England blamed himself for America doing what he did, even though it had nothing to do with him.
France pats his back, "There, there mon cheri..." He says, England bursting into tears for the first time since they rescued America, "Its ok." He rubs England's back, careful not to hurt his injured back.
"No its not ok!" England sobs out, "What if he does it again? We can't be there to catch him as he falls past the window, or jump in front of the bullet." He takes a deep breath, trying to keep quiet. "What if...what if he succeeds..." He looks up at France, his sea green eyes hurting, "What if I'm not there to stop him, to help him? To save him from himself?"
France takes in the words, trying to figure out his answer, seeing England waiting for an answer, tears streaming down. But for the first time in France's life, he didn't have the answers, he didn't know what to say.
England holds his breath, waiting for France to share some of his wisdom with him.
France turns away, very embrassed that he couldn't think of one thing to say to England.
England looks down, the one time he wanted to hear France's endless advice, and he had none to give.
Well, it was to be expected, no nation had ever been through this before. No nation had tried to kill themselves. Sure, a few had been murdered by other nations, but never one taking its own life/ England sighs, rubbing the back of his neck in the aquward silence, heavy in the air. The two nations sigh at the smae time, heads down. America was unstable, and they knew it. They both realise the only solution at the smae time, neither liked it.
"Mental institution." England breathes out. "Its..." He balls up his fists, "The only way..."
France looks back at England, "Surely we can find another solution, oui?" He says, knowing England's heart was breaking at just the thought of sending America away.
England shakes his head, "Francis...we almost lost Alfred. If we hadn't had seen him jump from his apartment window... he would've d-...d-...d-died..." He sighs, deeply, his heart breaking in two. "We have to...tommorrow we'll call them." He says.
France sees the trumoil rsuhing through England, tearing the nation in two. He wanted Amrica happy, but he didn't want to let America go ethier. The two nations sit there, unable to speak to each other. England grabs up the album, starting back at the beggining, just looking through his memories, to escape from the present. It was a breif escape, the nation lost in the past and what he couldn't have back. The times of innocence and glory, how he wished for the days of knights in shining armor and fire breathing serpeants and pirating on the high seas. France looks at the album with him, the nations looking at their pasts even as the room slowly became brighter from the rising day. The promise of a new day didn't make England feel any better, knowing what the day would bring.
Losing America.
Hello Keiko here... I was going to make this only a two shot...but.. I couldn;'t help it. ^^; A awesome person by the name of Kalikuvaz actually gave me the idea to conntinue through their comment. THANK YOU! This chapter is for you. XD Then bad ending has been turned into a dream. Oh, just warning you of those who don't have me under alert, I'm changing the name of this, its called Losing America. Its makes more since. And the song is called Save me By Nickleback. And about the photo album, I know they didn't have cameras back then but... I wanted something to sort of bring France and England closer durning this time and be sort of bittersweet. If America can have alaptop in WW2, they can have cameras back during the time of the Roman Empire and the time of dragons and pirates. XD Yes, America is going to the nut house... How will Canada and the rest react to England's plan? Or the rest of the boonefroy and Kikrland family for that matter? I myself had a freind who went to a mental institution for something similar and so this story will be very personal for me. Canada and England kinda embody my feelings I had at this time, but mostly Canada from now one, since I acted just like him when I was young.
On a lighter note, I need your help. I'm starting an ask Italy collum up here where you ask Italy questions and he answers. See, I'm on a panel for Animazement next year and I will be North Italy up there, and the panel will ask be asking the nations questions so this Ask Story is to sort of prepare for that, so I can get in character (Even though I already act like him, a lot...check out some of my other story author notes for the story) Just send the questions in a PM or to the email Italyaussie gmail. com (Without spaces) I also have one for those of you who want to know more about me, my stories and my cahacters which appearin my authors notes (Kieko and Mixalis) If you want to know anything about some of my stories that you didin't understand or just want to chat, email me at KeikoMixalis Gmail. com or PM me. You can ask anything on that story to ethier me, or my Nobody Mixalis. (you get two different personalities so be warned) I'll even answer as Australia on the Italy stroy as well, so any for him, just ask. XD Have a great day and hope you enjoy this story.
Oh ps. The word in Chaoter 2 that France yells right before America yanks England out the window means I'M TRYING! Just letting you know... susca.. sorry..
