London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady
A USUK FANFIC
Note: Yees, I managed to finish this chapter before I'm heading to the airport. I'm actually going to LONDON in a few hours! (*IHHHHHH!*) I'm so excited to finally be able to see England, and hopefully I will get inspired to write more and get more ideas on this fic! ^o^
I hope you will enjoy the chapter though, the format could be kinda weird, but if so, I hope you can read either way!
Bye bye ~~
"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again..."
Chapter 8. Humpty Dumpty -In pieces- PART 2
This time, landing at Heathrow was not as hard as it had been two weeks ago, when he, his brother and France had got the news about the attacks on London and immediately rushed on the earliest flight to Britain that following night.
That day his heart had been filled with nothing but sadness and bitter thoughts of resentment. His mind a mess, his feelings turned around and his soul wounded beyond control. The pictures and sights he had witness had etched themselves in his mind, and he had been having countless of nightmares up to date ever since. The most haunting picture of all was the one of his beloved laying in that hospital bed, white as a ghost and covered in bandages all over. He had never seen his former caretaker so weak, so vulnerable and so small. Laying there he looked nothing more like a wounded child, so helpless and innocent.
His eyes had been closed the whole time he had been watching over him by his bed, and he had longed so for him to wake, and to look him in the eyes.
Because it was nothing he rather do than look into his beautiful, sparkling emerald eyes he loved so much. Just like fresh summer grass on an early morning or the velvet petals of his favorite roses.
Still, by far, his eyes were something you've never find anywhere else, and their beauty surpassing even the most beautiful diamond.
These thoughts he had was something he always had been having inside him, and every time he caught himself in them, the young nation would blush and deny they ever existed in the first place.
But then his peaceful days of supervising the nation's condition had taken an abrupt stop when a call from Washington urged him to return to the states for an important meeting ASAP, or more or less, as of this minute.
At first, he had refused, saying that his place right now was right here, with England, and that anything else was not of importance.
But only a few hours later, he was all and all but dragged out of the building by three agents, claiming his presence nonnegotiable in the matter at hand. Only after some faint promises of returning soon, and as much Mc Donald's as he wanted if he followed them allowed them to, (somewhat) board the private helicopter on time.
Canada, who had watched the whole ordeal from beginning to end, had been having a hard time understanding how England had not woken up at the loud American's childish fit of anger. Practically the whole staff at the private hospital had been alarmed and had been watching them throughout them boarding until they later took flight. Canada was more than embarrassed about his brother's behavior, and if he could he had just wanted to vanish into thin air (not so hard for him, but still!). But even so, he had promised his brother before he left to take his place and look after England until he returned.
Canada really hadn't needed to be told that, because he too had spent most of his free time by the Englishman's side since he got situated in London.
Still, he had smiled and nodded, leaving a relived America to fly off to handle his country's important business.
After that, it had taken the wounded nation four days to finally open up his eyes once again, and this time for more than 10 seconds.
So on the 16:th day since the attack, The personification of The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland; a.k.a. England; was finally awake.
Fresh air hit him immediately when he got out off the plane, and he could fell his spirit lift of the ground. Finally he would be able to meet him again! With his head hold up high and with long determinate strides, he walked passed security out to the great hall to locate a transport into the city.
His sight wandered through the hall, and it was then he spotted a rather odd sight.
In the mist of legs of travelers and bags on wheels going back and forth, he spotted a big ball of white a few feet ahead of him. He tilted his head questioningly, his brows slightly furrowed in disbelief when the white ball turned around, revealing its real identity. Two pair of black beaded eyes met his blue ones and he froze in shock.
"What…" he thought. "What in god's name does a bear even…" he said to himself before realization hit him. "Wait." he thought. "Isn't that the bear bro always carries around?" he grumbled thoughtfully. He didn't have time thinking about it further when a voice could be heard amidst all the travelers, calling his name.
"Alfred!" a person right in the middle of the mass of people called out, in what was supposed to be a loud voice, but failed to emit such a sound. Even though, he could hear him just fine. After all, he was not human; but a nation.
All his senses were far better than a normal person, and that he shared with his fellow nations. Except one thing he was alone with. That being his super, abnormal strength, that he had been having since his early days as a British colony.
He smiled as he strolled past the big crowd of people towards his awaiting brother. Beside him he could also now spot the other French-speaking nation, who had been on the other side of the hall, searching.
"Matt, really, when I texted you on the plane I didn't mean for you to pick me up or something!" he said, grinning apologizing. "You really didn't have too, bro!" he said, as he watched the polar bear climb its way up on Canada's leg, to finally take its wished position on his shoulder. Canada shook his head slowly as a response, and quickly peered to his right and catching France glance, before he decided to take up the subject at hand, without prolonging it even further.
"America." He called, taking his brothers attention from scratching Kumajirou's head, to look him earnestly in the eye.
"What is it?" he said, his blue eyes wide and filled with hope. Looking into his brothers hopeful eyes made it all so much harder, but he had to say it. For his own sake.
"England." He began, rather shakingly, before he found his confidence again and continued. "England woke up yesterday."
As soon as the information got through to America his eyes widened, and his mouth hang open in shock.
"ENGLAND IS AWAKE!?" he exclaimed loudly, scaring a few passersby in the progress. "Why didn't you tell me sooner!?" he said with trace of anger in his voice, as he stared his brother down. He then abruptly turned on his heels heading off towards the nearest exit.
Before he had managed to take even two steps away towards his goal, his shoulder was grabbed firmly by the older blonde nation, and he got turned around harshly so that he was facing him, merely a few inches away from the others face.
"Now listen to me closely, Amerique." he said firmly, his eyes hard as steel. "Even though Angalterre is awake, he is no longer the same Anglaterre as before." he proclaimed, his eyes still looking firmly into sky-blue American froze at this, his eyes staring into the others with nothing but confusion, mixed with a slight feeling of dread. He opened up his mouth to speak, but closed it almost immediately again. He clearly was at a loss of what to say, his brows furrowed and his eyes showing worry.
"W-What." He manages to get out, his voice hoarse. "What do you mean he's no longer himself?" he said, looking pleadingly first at France, then turning his eyes for a short second towards his brother, only to return to France deep blue stare eyes he stared into then turned sad, and said person deflated slightly in his stance, his glance turned instead to the side, not bearing to look into the others eyes any longer.
"Alfred." A soft voice called out, as the person in question stepped forward, standing by his right side peering with concerned purple eyes at him. America lifted his head up from looking down, to meet his brother. Brows still very much furrowed in confusion, and concern now overpowering his whole being. Still very uncomfortable with his brother in this state, he pulled himself together once more.
"When England woke up the other day…." He began softly, watching his brother's reaction on every word he said, before he decided to continue "…He couldn't speak, his voice barley being able to pronounce a single sentence." He explained, still watching his brothers every reaction. Hearing this, America suddenly seemed to lose track of reality, and it seems like he even stopped breathing for a few seconds. His eyes widened even further and he glances at his brother, trying to see if he really was telling the truth.
He was. That unwavering purple stare could not tell any lies, and he knew it.
He then felt, right there, in the middle of the airport, that all was lost. He knew how important the ability to speak was, and for a nation to not be able to do so… That was hardly a nation.
He shuddered at his thoughts, as dread filled him up once more. He then turned to the other nation, standing beside his brother. He had been observing them in silence during Canada's confession, his face a mask of no emotion. But when he caught sight of the Americans eyes, his face seemed to soften up a bit, and he titled his head a bit to the side.
"What is it?" he asked questioningly, his blue eyes a bit concerned by the Americans silence. America took a large intake of breath before he answered in a stern tone.
"I need to see him. I need to see him now." He said, his voice unwavering and eyes showing a sudden determination. France watched him, rather taken aback, but then smiled softly.
"Why of course." he said. "We have a car ready right outside the eastern exit. We can go whenever you are ready, Cher."
America only nodded in response, and turned towards his brother.
"Let's go." he said before he turned around and left the airport, followed by his brother and France not far behind.
He muscles was burning. His breathing ragged. Each and every breath coming out in small fast huffs , while his legs were trembling beyond control. Upon all that, he felt like there was a heavy weight pressing down on him, making his attempt to walk even more of a challenge than it already was.
He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he knew he was being ridiculous. The doctors had clearly said that his mobility where not in full order, as of yet, and wouldn't be for quite a while, and still, he decided to take his chances at walking. Despite the clear order to stay quietly in bed, the British nation was not very keen on doing just that. He didn't like to be pampered and he certainly didn't enjoy being told what to do and what not to. Being taken care of like that made him feel vulnerable and he hated to be so dependent on somebody else. After all, he had been all by himself for most of his long life so far, and he could therefor take care of himself just fine, Thank you very much.
A few seconds later, after taking a large breath, he closed his eyes in concentration as he lifted his foot to take another step forward, holding stiffly onto the window railing so that he wouldn't fall. He manages to walk, even though taking a lot of effort and time, over half of the distance towards his goal; a big jug of water, standing on a small round table a few feet from his bed.
He wanted to curse himself for being so slow, and his body for being so uncooperative. He suddenly felt so miserable, and he could feel tears threatening to escape from his eyes. He closed his eyes once more, shaking his head slowly from side to side as to deny the tears for even being there in the first place. As he opened up his eyes again after a few long seconds, his brows was furrowed deeply in concentration, as he lifted his foot with more vigor this time, taking a big step forward.
Before he had managed to step his foot down on the floor again, he heard fast footsteps outside the corridor, followed soon by a big bang of the door slamming wide open.
The shock of the sudden loud sound made the Brit snap his head towards the source, only to lose his footing completely. He could feel himself tipping slightly forward, only to tilt back seconds later to fall mercilessly backwards. He closed his eyes firmly shut, preparing himself for the soon very harsh and painful landing.
He could therefore barley react to the somewhat soft landing he felt as he hit the ground with a loud thud, followed by several gasps in fear. He then flinched remarkable when he could hear a loud, slightly painful moan very close to him, and a pair of strong arms seconds later snaking themselves around his torso.
Upon that, he flickered up his eyes in shock, trying desperately to turn and face the person he was now, more or less, on top off. This seemed to be an impossible task, as the muscular arms around him was holding on to him so close, he couldn't move an inch.
But, his efforts seemed to pay off when the arms lessened their grasp on his waist, and he then was able to turn his head up to look his savior in the eyes.
England was more than a bit surprised to find two large clear blue eyes stare into his, their face only inches apart. His eyes widened at the realization and his head turned down towards the ground in a flash. He felt his face heating up and he started to squirm slightly in his very embarrassing position.
"Ah… Ahhh…" he manages to pronounce in his shock filled state, his eyes darting back and forth, not knowing where to look.
In a quick and swift moment, he could feel himself suddenly being lift up from the ground, only to be cradled gently in the Americans arms. His cheeks got even redder at this, and he was just about to open his mouth to complain when he got shushed by the other.
"Really now, what were you thinking England?" The voice said, annoyance clearly slipping through. The grip around his body then suddenly got a bit tighter, and the Brit felt himself tense up even more.
"You are sick, and should therefore be in bed, understood?" the American said sternly, not willing to show his worries through his manner of speech. With only three long strides, he was standing before the bed, another revealing on how very short the distance really had been.
Arthur felt himself being lowered very softly onto the bed again, his eyes still wide in embarrassment, not able to took the other nation in the eye. He then got, rather clumsily, tucked in, blue eyes never looking up from the pearly sheets while he performed his task. The British man's eyes then glanced towards the two people who were now standing on either side of the bed, looking worriedly at him.
"Petit lapin, are you alright?"
"England, How are you feeling? Are you hurt?"
Questions of concern were flooding him at the same time, and all he manages to do was to nod and shake his head.
Yes, he was fine.
No, he was not hurt.
When hearing that, the other two seemed to relax remarkably, as they both went to grab some chairs to sit on.
The only one who was still hunched by his side was the sunny blonde American.
Still not facing him properly, England felt even more nervous than before. He fisted the sheets in his hands, building up his courage. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't happy to see his former colony. He had actually been rather sad when he realized that Matthew was present without his brother. He had taken it as a sign that the superpower really didn't care for him, and that at all. He would have been crushed, if it wasn't for all the other things he had to worry about. Like how he was bandaged up all across his body, looking ridiculously like a mummy. His disability to talk and move around was clearly his most severe problem, but all the other little things made him even more ticked off by his whole situation.
But here he was, right by his side. He gulped, his throat feeling dry.
"A..A-America?" he stammered out, his voice soft.
He felt himself snap his head up at the sound of his name. His blue eyes, that had been avoiding facing the small man before him, were now staring into slightly shaken green ones. America felt his heart leap in his chest by the sight before him, and he couldn't help but smile fondly at the man, whose face showed a faint innocent that was very rare to witness.
He noticed that the others cheek turned a lovely pink color, which made the sight even more endearing.
"I'm glad you're finally awake, so that I can see your eyes again." He said, his smile widening remarkably. England's eyes widened at that, his cheeks now a deep shade of scarlet.
"W..W-Wha..at?" he stuttered out, his voice breaking with every letter.
A chuckle interrupted the two unknowing lovebirds. Both going white in horror when they realized they had forgotten that they were, indeed not alone in the room.
"Finally back from your own world, Ma cherie?" the Frenchman manages to get out through his forced contained laughter. On the other side of the bed, Canada was chuckling behind his gave an angry look towards the Frenchman, a blush spreading on his face.
"Not funny, Francis." He mumbles out, looking down, but sneaking a small peek at the silent Briton. The Brit was hunched in the bed, his face buried in his hands. That made him react, as he leant closer.
"England, are you alright? What's the matter? Are you in pain?" he asked worriedly, his eyes showing slight panic.
England looked up from his hands, emerald eyes shimmering and mouth slightly ajar. America was there before him, closer than before and in his comfort zone, leaning half and half on him.
His large body pressing down on him, the weight both uncomfortable and strangely relaxing, on his much leaner body.
"I-I'm f..ine, A..A-l." he said, uncomfortably. His gaze shifted to the side. "Yo-u a-are t..too c-close, g..g-git." he then stammered out, blushing.
America got the picture quickly and got back on his seat by the bed, coughing awkwardly.
Before the French duo could tease them any further, A knock on the door made then tense up.
"Come in…" An attentive France said slowly.
On granting the permission, the door knob turned and the door opened, revealing a person they least expected to be there at that moment...
Note: Yeah, Who could that be, hm? ;3 Please take a guess~~
