With every destroyed building they passed Allister felt his heart break a little more. There was so much rubble covering the ground that it wasn't long before Allister was forced to travel the rest of the way on foot.

The people of London were understandably solemn as they picked through their destroyed homes to retrieve possessions and lost loved ones.

This was his little brother's heart, and it had been shattered like glass.

A small sliver of hope made its way into Allister's heart when he found Kirkland Manor almost untouched by all the chaos. He almost didn't want to knock on the door. He wanted to run home so he wouldn't need to see the state his youngest brother was in after a night of bombings.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the door being flung open and a pair of strong arms grabbing him in a bone crushing hug.

"Al, thank god you're here" Dylan sobbed into his brother's shoulder.

Allister was a little taken back by how the usually calm and collected Welsh nation acted.

He pulled away from the second oldest Kirkland and took in his appearance.

His usually immaculate suit was crumpled and blood stained, his brown hair was a complete mess like he had spent all night running his fingers through it, judging from the dark circles under his eyes it was a high possibility.

"Of course I came, ye think if I get a panicked letter from me brother I'm not going to drop everything and come running."

Dylan smiled tiredly

"Come on, I'll make you a cup of tea… or better yet pour ye a shot of whiskey." Allister patted his brother on the shoulder as he past him into the house "You look like ye about to keel over. What time did ye get ta sleep last night anyway?"

"I-I didn't… last night I spent every second just trying to keep Arty alive" There was so much anger and hate in his usually calm man's voice.

Allister hesitated a moment before handing him a cup of earl grey tea. "Why don't ye get some sleep, I'll keep an eye on him while you rest"

Dylan looked like he wanted to argue but he was barley staying awake as it was. The war was taking its toll on all of them. "Fine…but call me if anything happens."

Allister pushed him towards the guest room "yeah, yeah boyo I will. Now get some sleep before I change me mind."

Dylan laughed, he knew that despite that the eldest Kirkland said right now not God nor devil could keep him away from his brother.

The room was a mess; bandages hastily made from ripped sheets littered the floor, many of them soaked through with blood.

Allister's gaze came to settle on the bed where his youngest brother lay.

His chest was heavily bandaged with bloody cloth and a cool damp towel lay on his pale furrowed brow.

"Oh Arty" Allister breathed as he stroked his brothers soft blond hair. He almost recoiled at how hot he was. Arthur had a raging fever and seemed to be breathing in uneven gasps like every breath was agonisingly painful.

It broke Allister's heart to see him like this "I'm so sorry bunny, I should have been there when the bombs fell. I should have been looking after you" he gently continued stroking his feverish hair

"I…it…wasn't you're...fa…ult big…brother"

Allister's hand stopped its comforting movement

"Hey Arty ye awake?" Allister asked softly

"How...bad is it?"

The question caught him off guard. How could he tell him what had happened to London, his capital, his heart.

"D-don't worry about that now. Just concentrate on getting better, Dylan stopped the bleeding but… ye have a high fever"

"I'm fine…I have work… To do." Arthur tried to sit up but just didn't have the strength. He fell back into his pillow panting and pain clear on his face.

Allister hated seeing his little brother like this. To see someone usually so strong and independent, unable to even get up from his bed…it made him feel sick. "Shh, ye not going anywhere"

Allister began stroking his hair again, and despite his mind clouded by fever and the obvious pain he was in, a small smile made its way onto Arthur's sickly pale face.

He was soon fast asleep leaving Allister alone with his thoughts.

'How dare Germany hurt his little brother, war or not. By bombing the capital he was trying to destroy England's heart. He was trying to kill Arthur'

Allister swore then and there that he would do everything in his power to protect his little brother, his little bunny.

He would make that bastard Germany pay.

Over the coming weeks Allister would come to realise just how powerless he was to stop his brothers suffering, all he could do was hold his hand and try to help Dylan stop the unending bleeding as bombs rained down on England