England sat in the window seat, looking at the coffee that had become cold hours ago. After his breakdown, France and Matthew insisted on staying with him. The small British man smiles slightly at the thought that such simple words would get them to leave.
"We're not leaving until we're sure you're fine eh?" Canada set yet another plate of pancakes on the table in front of him. "Angleterre, nous restons avec vous.{England, we're with you}" Arthur sighed, staring glumly at the plate in front of him. "I don't want to take up your time..." France smiled slightly. "You are not. We 'ad our schedules cleared for today. We came to spend zhe the day with you."Arthur sighed, poking the lumpy mess in front of him weakly, his eyes downcast. "Why don't we all go visit 'im-" They both jumped as a pan clattered loudly to the floor, swerving around to see Canada standing next to the sink, his hands clutching the edge tightly, his knuckles white as his shoulders tensed. Francis stood up quickly, gently setting a hand on his shoulder. "Mon petit Mat-" They both moved quickly as their little brother collapsed, gathering him into their arms as he was overtaken with sobs, his glasses slipping from his face and falling to the fall almost soundlessly. "A-Al... W-Why h-him?!" England felt himself slipping away, watching from a third person view as they stood, still holding each other close. He continued to watch as France decided to take Matthew home. Watched as they walked out. He knew rather than felt himself walk out to the balcony and watch them leave in the navy blue car that had belonged to Alfred. Alfred...
England glanced at the road below and listened to the honking and screeching. It all seemed so far away... He hardly spared the land-line a glance as it rang, his mood matching the normal overcast weather. He stiffened, waiting for the recording. "'Sup! This is grumpy brows home phone. If he didn't answer it's most likely cause he's avoiding ya-" "Alfred! What the bloody hell are you doing?!" "Nothin'! You need somethin' to tell people you're antisocial!" "Why you-" The recording ended with Alfred's bright and happy laughter. "England? Shit, Ich don't know if this is the right number... I got it from Feli... Anyways! I called to ask if you vere coming to the ceremony today? Ich offered to give you a ride... Uh yeah, if you hear this, get back to me..." A deep sigh could be heard on the other end. "Look, Ich know you're probably there and I vant to tell you something. It's not your fault. I'll admit, Al could... get reckless sometimes..." The Prussian stopped for a moment, his breathing heavy. "No one blames you. I'll bet Al doesn't either... Don't let him see you like this. I'll bet he's up there making fun of you right now. Are you going to let him do that? I-" He cut himself off, a sob coming from the other side. "Ich... Just call me back.. I'm sorry..." The recording ended, the room once again falling silent. Empty.
He turned to the window again, his own face reflected back at him. His once emerald green eyes had lost their radiance, a now faded forest green. His skin looked pale and washed out, his mouth set in a grim line. He pressed his shaking fingers against the foggy glass, watching himself be obscured by a smokey haze.
He knew what the other nations thought. They looked at him as fragile. Weak. Broken. The last word made his eye twitch. Broken. Perfect term he thought sarcastically, swiping a hand across the window, pressing his forehead to it and closing his eyes. Why had so many people been taken from him? Why did he have to endure all this pain? Why was he so alone? I'll always be alone. It seems to be my fate... He let a tear escape, his hand curling into a fist against the now white window, his breath blocking out the rest of the world.