Hello everyone, here is the next chapter, as urgently requested. Just to say a few things before the chapter starts. I got a few reviews that made me feel quite under pressure, and I know you probably meant them as a joke, but I am quite stressed out now due to GCSE exams and so on. I know I probably sound really fussy to make a big deal out of this, but it kinda got to me, so if you can not do it again. Not naming any names, just saying…
Enjoy the chappy ^^
Francis scanned the people sitting around the conference room table. Three chairs were empty…
'That's strange…' he thought, 'Angleterre is always at the meetings…and it's no point embarrassing Amerique if he isn't here….and then there was that other guy that Francis could never remember the name of…'
Gilbert and Antonio smiled and looked over at him with slight confusion. But Francis shook his head.
'Not today…' he sighed'…but soon mon cheres…soon…'
"Alfred…come on wake up…Alfred!"
Alfred woke up on the kitchen floor, to the smell of burning pancake batter and Matthew trying to awaken him, his face pale and tear-stained.
Blinking a few times to steady his dizzy vision, Alfred asked "what happened bro?"
Matthew sighed, in his confusion Alfred wasn't sure whether it was with relief or annoyance, flashing a quick fake smile in vaguely Alfred's direction, and reminded him. "You passed out…" he explained, a pained kind of exhaustion in his tone.
"How long was I out for" Alfred asked.
"Ehh…about 10 minutes" Matthew told him.
Pushing himself up steadily, Alfred arched an eyebrow. He had never fainted before…this must have been because of something major.
Sensing the confusion, Matthew continued. "…after I mentioned the accident to you…" he said, his voice wobbling by the end of the sentence.
And suddenly, it all came flooding back to Alfred. Arthur had been in some kind of accident…but he didn't know any more because he had probably fainted after that…and along with his memory came back all the guilt and pain.
Forcing himself not to cry, he asked "w-what happened?"
Matthew winced, and, placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder, began to tell him….
Well…after you'd gone to bed, I got a phone call. It was the doctor…not your one, but another…so I knew it must be something serious.
He told me that your doctor had advised him to call, and then he told me…he said that Arthur had been heading back from the hospital, and he was hit…b-by a truck…and he's in a really deep coma…he lost a lot of blood, and the blow was pretty hard, with it being a truck and all…
Matthew couldn't say any more. Instead he burst into tears, and had to leave the room.
Alfred was mortified. What was Matthew saying?! Was he saying that Arthur was…dead?! No. NO!
He refused to believe that! Arthur was alive. He had to be!
Alfred had been in such a state, he hadn't noticed Matthew re-enter the kitchen until he hugged Alfred and pulled him close.
"Calm down Alfred, don't hyperventilate, please" he begged.
"Can we go and see him? In hospital I mean" Alfred asked his brother.
Matthew agreed, and so they set off straight away.
The receptionist said that Arthur already had the maximum amount of visitors in his room when Alfred and Matthew arrived at the hospital (maximum 3 people) and the next available slot was at 3pm.
"But…it's only 10am now!" Alfred protested.
The receptionist shrugged. "Tough luck. Family gets the first priority" she smiled almost slyly.
Alfred cast a pleading look at Matthew to help him out, agree with him, ANYTHING!
But his brother only sighed sadly and told him that there was no point in arguing with an authority figure, and that he should just sit down and wait in the waiting room.
Alfred had never felt so alone and betrayed in his life. What had he done wrong? What had he done to deserve this?
