I'm so sorry that took so long. School is too stressful. These past two chapters haven't been the best, I know, but they were the awkward chapters in the plot line. After this, hopefully, the writing will be better. As always, huge thank you too GarGoyl, Killerkitty15, Sora Resi, and Red-Phonix14 for your extremely appreciated reviews. Here is the next chapter, and even if it isn't the best, I hope you all enjoy!

As always, I don't own Hetalia. And the same warnings still apply.

Chapter 9

Choices

I was stuck in that white room with no way out. After Francis had suddenly broken down and sobbed himself to exhaustion for reasons I have yet to understand, his Aunt had shown up, and forced him home to rest. Even she seemed upset by the situation, keeping her eyes towards the floor, a frown on a face that was always pleasant in the few instances I interacted with her. She squeezed my shoulder before ushering him out of the room and murmured a soft apology. But why was she apologizing? Why was everyone apologizing?

The anxiety and fear I always had was slowly eating at me, taunting me. The longer I was away from him the worse it became. I didn't want these people to help me when I deserved such a fate. I imagined the monster slowly creeping out of his lair, prowling around the town, searching for his captive. Would he find Francis and attack him for stealing his prey? Would he go to the school and cause terror, demanding to see what was his and his alone? I pictured them telling him where I was, and him showing up, bursting through the door in all of his rage and fury. I could see him slapping me, maybe even attempting to smother me with my own pillow so no one could hear my pained cries. Doctor Wang had not been back to see me, perhaps they were contacting him? I didn't know anything and it was tearing me apart.

The day quickly faded away into a dark night and I wondered if they could actually keep me here. They had to tell him, right? He was my guardian after all. But with their new knowledge that they had pried out of my weak barrier, would they keep me hidden away? Nurses came in, offering me food, urging me to rest. On the few occasions when I took their advice, images of him filled my mind, his insults and violations playing out in vivid form, feeling too real. More than once I had to fight the urge to scream. I had convinced myself that he would still come, prepared to steal me back. I tried to distract myself by thinking of other problems that my life held. I was extremely behind on schoolwork, I had made Francis cry, and I had no way of knowing what would become of me in the next few days. Perhaps I would be dead by the end of the week.

I spent the night staring at the ceiling, hoping that the monsters wouldn't show themselves, trying desperately to cling to any form of security. Just for tonight I would allow myself to avoid my punishment. It began to rain at some time in the early hours of the morning. I pictured him getting up, frustrated at his lack of entertainment the night before, and pulling on three day old clothes and filthy boots. He would grumble and cruse, moving down the stairs and out the door, driving to the same place as every other day. If I was there, would I be curled up on his floor? I pictured watching him leave through blurry, tear-filled vision, aching everywhere. Just the thought of it made my existing wounds burn.

By the time the sun began shining through the window I had lost all concept of what time or even what day it was. I was so exhausted, but was terrified to sleep. My body ached and I itched for information. What could they do here anyway? They couldn't fix any of this. I continuously tried to figure out what was the correct way of thinking. I wondered if I should truly continue believing that I deserved my lifestyle, or whether I should take a chance and listen to what these people were trying to tell me. I was too much of a coward to try anything different. The only steady way of living I knew was that of a broken beer bottle and constant screaming. Did I even deserve to have a chance at a new life?

When the door opened later on that morning I had wound myself up so badly that I didn't notice the new party until the door shut rather loudly. Looking up, my heart sunk when I realized that it wasn't a doctor. Instead, it was a person that I didn't want to have to face quite yet. I had certainly lied to him enough for him to hate me.

"How are you feeling, Arthur?"

He pulled up the chair that still looked so uncomfortable and sat at a respectable distance, but close enough so he could observe my pitiful form. His accented words still hung in the room and his dark eyes stared into me as they always did.

"I'm fine, Sir…" I offered in a small attempt to ease his mind.

The English teacher frowned at me, showing how unconvinced he was, and crossed his legs to get comfortable.

"You don't have to pretend, you did collapse, you know."

Memories of the previous day came back into my mind making me cringe. Of course he had to highlight how bloody weak I was.

"Shouldn't you be teaching?" My voice sounded much colder than I had originally intended, but he never seemed fazed by it.

"Well I would certainly hope not. It is a Saturday, after all." He smirked lightly, probably in an attempt to ease the awkward tension.

I felt even more embarrassed at my lack of knowledge, hating how everyone else seemed to know what was going on. Why was I so useless?

"Why are you here?"

At this, his smirk faded and he grew serious once more. He had been like this so many times lately that I couldn't remember the last time he was his old playful self.

"Generally when a student shows signs of physical struggle I have reason for concern."

Why would he be concerned? It wasn't like I was close to him. I was one of a sea of people in his class; surely others were weak as well? Was he visiting them in hospitals?

"You are one of the most stubborn boys I have ever met, you know that?" Stubborn? "You should let us help you."

It was my turn to frown.

"What have they told you?"

"Nothing that I couldn't have guessed for myself, I assure you."

I was sure he knew. It was strange to me that a secret so carefully kept for so many years had been discovered by so many in a span of a week or two. I expected all of their reactions to be anger; they would be furious that everything happened without their knowledge. Instead, Mr. Vargas, like Francis and his aunt, looked sad. Did he really pity me? Why was everyone always like this? I didn't know what to say, which wasn't new lately, and we were forced into a rather uncomfortable silence. He checked various things on his phone, leaving me back to the thoughts that I desperately wanted to avoid.

"What happens now?" I asked after what seemed like an eternity.

He looked up, probably surprised that I had made an effort to continue the conversation, and shifted as if he were about to explain something difficult to a small child.

"Investigations will start if enough evidence is gathered to get a case. You're eighteen, or at least almost so, technically you won't be a minor in this Country. Therefore, of course it won't be this simple; you get a large amount of choice on what to do."

His statement hit me harder than it should have. I could have a choice? I never thought about that option. But even if I did choose to leave, he would find me somehow, right? How could he not? I looked at the man in front of me, and began to contemplate my options in a new perspective. He looked almost as tired as Francis had, and I wondered if he may have worried or even felt guilty over not stepping in sooner. He yawned throughout his visit, and for a moment I thought he may fall asleep in his chair, even if it looked so uncomfortable.

He spent the morning with me, making small conversation here and there, probably trying to get me to relax so I wouldn't be as jumpy when the doctors returned. He offered to get me various things like food or another blanket. No one other than the frog had offered to do such a thing. Was it normal for a person to offer such things without expected payment? I imagined myself asking him for such a request and how he would laugh in my face and perhaps give me a good slap. By the time he stood up to go, he had somehow managed to relax me before I even realized it. He gave me a warm smile and told me not to worry about whatever was to come, that he would take care of anything at school. I managed a small wave, but was sad to see him go; he let me avoid those thoughts that constantly threatened to drag me into the chasm of despair.

It wasn't until after I was given a light lunch that I heard from any form of doctor. Doctor Wang entered on his silent feet and offered a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He approached my bedside and slowly moved to check various things on my arms and torso. He murmured only soft reassurance. I let him observe my wounds without protest, too tired and confused by everything new to care what he did to me. Eventually, he pulled one of the stools on wheels that always intrigued me in the few times I saw them and sat with a clip board in his hand.

"Can you tell me everything that hurts or any other wounds I should know about? You can take as long as you want too…"

I sighed softly, folding my arms over my chest. Where did I begin? I blamed it on my subconscious fear of pain and need to submit that I spilled everything so willingly. I was so irritated with myself, going from giving up and agreeing to be his slave, to sitting here, telling of his crimes to someone who would lock him away. My voice trembled as I tried to recount the various bruises, cuts, and strains that covered me from head to toe. I started with the cuts on my cheek, moving down along my torso until… I stopped. I had made it until I was there… how would he react if he knew what that poor excuse of a man did to me? He would be disgusted, appalled that I was used to release his frustrations after a rough day, or to fulfill his sick fantasies. Silence enveloped the room for several minutes before the soft voice of the other brought me out of my momentary freeze.

"Arthur, did he do something else to you that you would like to tell me?"

I slowly moved my head to look at Doctor Wang, processing all of his expressions. He seemed slightly perplexed, eager to discover what was wrong with me, probably itching to fix it. I didn't know what would happen if I told. So many people had discovered one secret; could I afford to release another, more serious one? They would surely think me revolting. I would be even more worthless than I was already deemed, seen as trash and nothing of relevance, even to these people. I sighed for the millionth time in the past few days. The doctor seemed so patient, waiting for me to reveal anything that would give him a lead. I didn't know what to say. As my head swarmed with different possibilities the pressure of providing an answer grew until I was so desperate I followed the first thought that came to mind.

"No…no he-…no." I suppose old habits die hard.

He didn't look the slightest bit convinced, not that I expected him too, he never did in the span I had talked with him. He moved his hands along, applying various medications and adding more bandages. I couldn't help but flinch as he continued his actions, used to hands being large and rough rather than small and strangely smooth. When he finished, he looked at me again, writing various things down on his clipboard.

"If you ever have anything else you want to say, alert a nurse and I'll come as soon as I can…I put you on some light pain medication and will have people frequently checking up on you."

I could only nod as he left for the second time, instantly feeling an extreme range of guilt and anger. I wanted to trust him. I wanted to feel a sense of security and believe that they could all help me, that they would help me. But if I did, would I find out that it was a trick? It was now more than ever that I wished someone could tell me what to do. All this time I had gotten only gentle nudges, that I could make a choice that everything was alright. No one offered their advice. No one gave an option that I felt safe going with. They promised to help, but how could they when I had no idea what I was doing?

I wallowed in my own self-pity and irritations, listening to nurses lecture me on what I was and was not eating, still up in the air over what I would do in the future. I didn't notice, or care to notice, when the door opened again until I heard the sound of glass on the side table. Preparing to deny any offer of water or food and show just how finished I was with the day, my head snapped up, only to be met with various bright flowers, their pleasant aroma slowly filling the room. A modest glass vase held at least a dozen and I turned to see who had provided a splash of color into the painfully dull dwelling that I was stuck in.

He still looked tired but not as much as before, he had definitely cleaned up. He stood at a careful distance away, waiting for my approval for him to approach. He kept his eyes downcast, but a slight smile played on his lips, probably happy that I wasn't screaming at him.

"What's all this?"

He took a careful breath. "I saw how irritated you looked with everything, Cher, and this room is lifeless, so I decided to buy the bouquet with the widest variety of color the shop down the street had in stock. I hope you aren't allergic."

I couldn't help but be a little amused. How would I know if I was allergic when no one had ever bought me something like flowers? Francis seemed to pick up on my response and relaxed only enough to set his coat down on a chair. Granted, I was still unbelievably confused and upset over the fact that they knew because of the incentive he dropped in my weakness, but his few acts of kindness always had me reeling over what to believe. I watched him sit, his feet shuffling uncomfortably.

"What's wrong, frog, have you lost your charm?" It probably wasn't the best thing to say, but seeing Francis so out of character was concerning to me. Then I remembered the medication in his bathroom and wondered what his true character even was. Which was real?

He let a small smile fly across his face before shrugging,

"So sorry, I've been so tired having to worry over your wellbeing."

I gave him a small smirk, a little pleased that he had his sarcasm back, at least for the moment. However, as soon as it was there, it was gone again and he looked at me seriously.

"I feel the need to apologize again, it wasn't my place. I know you trusted me with the secret but when you fell I thought something would be serious and-"

"Enough." The finality of my tone surprised me as I watched him sink back into a form of submission. To have him apologize so seriously to me again was surprising. I knew I should be fuming, that's how I was expected to react. But for some odd reason I could see why he did it. "I'm not as angry as you think. Just stop apologizing…"

He seemed to reluctantly accept my order, trying to relax. He seemed to have something he wanted to say, shifting here and there, looking from me, to the clock, and back to the flowers. I sighed, leaning against the pillows, watching his appearance.

"How is your Aunt?"

"She worries for you, of course. She wanted to come…I didn't want to overwhelm you."

"And your other friends, don't they wonder where you are?" I was being cold, I knew it, but I was genuinely curious, the thought that this was a trick still in the back of my mind.

"If they did then they'd call, I'm not overly concerned with them at the moment."

I nodded, accepting the answer, and moved a hand to finger through the flowers gently, mystified by their sharp shades of blues, reds, yellows, and other vibrant shades. He seemed somewhat pleased with the idea that I was so entranced by them. I wondered how long he had spent at the shop, trying to decide what to get or if he had simply picked something up at random. As I looked back over to him I was still so unnerved to see him so uncertain in his actions. Was this how he acted when he wasn't turned on to please the social atmosphere of high school? Did he always take slow steps in everything he did, fearing harsh rejection, keeping a soft tone whenever he spoke? When he was at home, was he always in the constant need of gentle love and affection? I suddenly felt the need to assure him that his actions weren't for nothing.

"The flowers are…lovely, you know. Thank you…"

He seemed to lighten up, at least enough to show his excitement in my acceptance. He gave the largest smile of the day and stretched slightly. I closed my eyes briefly, trying to decide if he was silently judging me for being so weak. Would he go to Gilbert and Antonio, telling them of how small I looked in this hospital bed? I opened my eyes again when he got up suddenly and watched him go over to the only window and look out at the sky.

"So…are you alright?" He asked, playing with the curtains so he could pull them open more.

"Oh, yes, quite. Everything is perfect." I had been asked that question so many times today that my answer was almost automatic.

"Alright, that was probably a stupid question. Apologies, lapin."

"What did you call me?" Normally, I let his French pet names go, but I didn't have anything else to talk about without delving into over discussed subjects. I wanted something else to fuss over for now.

He smirked and turned to look at me, seeming suddenly mischievous.

"Rabbit. You always remind me of a rabbit."

A rabbit? He chuckled as he saw what was probably a look of irritation and I couldn't help but huff. Of course that was the name he chose.

He seemed all too restless as he walked throughout the room, going through various different things in drawers, or playing the flowers, perfecting them so not a single one was out of place. I continued to watch him, trying to figure out what was on his mind to make him continue to walk around.

"Spit it out."

He stopped suddenly, turning to look at me with a curious gaze.

"What do you mean?"

I sighed at how reluctant he was to show what was bothering him. I hated being kept in the dark. What was possibly so important that he grew nervous to say it?

"You've been restless the entire time you've been here. Are you still upset? I'm not overly angry at you…"

He slowly made his way over to my bed and sat on the wheeled chair that Doctor Wang had occupied hours before. He looked at me squarely before his fingers played with the sheets on my bed.

"Well…have you figured out what you're going to do? After this…"

In truth, he asked the question I had been pondering over myself, only out loud. What would I do after I was discharged? I couldn't go back there after this. Would I stay in a hotel? But of course I had no money to speak of. I looked back at him, meeting his concerned gaze, and decided to answer him honestly.

"I have yet to figure that out… You know as much as I do that I can't go back now…"

He seemed to be expecting my answer and shifted for the millionth time, seeming to prepare a long speech that would somehow provide a devastating impact on my future.

"My Aunt was talking, you know…she said that if you needed too, we could clean out the guest bedroom and you could stay…with us."

I could do nothing but stare at him as he said this, trying to process the words he had just said. I barely knew him, and he barely knew me. Now he wanted me to live with him? Was he even thinking clearly? I thought about what that would be like, seeing how the inner workings of his family were so much different than mine, and perhaps receiving some of the warmth that I so desperately wanted. Would it be so bad? But would I be allowed? Everything was so official now, but I was old enough.

"You're sure?" I said slowly, believing for a moment that perhaps this was an option I could agree with. It was certainly the first one directly laid out for me.

"More than sure, she insists," He paused before adding, "I insist."

Was it out of guilt? Or did he actually want to help? I looked back at the flowers he brought and took a deep breath. Everything else was changing, why not take a chance? At least the monster didn't know where Francis lived, at least I hoped. I looked back at him, meeting his slightly wavering gaze, his insecurities starting to resurface, probably fearing my rejection. How odd.

"…Yes. Alright. If it's my best option…But only for a little while, nothing major."

He didn't seem to believe what I said and I waited for the words to sink in. He stared at me for a moment taking everything in, before smiling.

"That makes me happy. We'll be able to keep you safe, you know."

I could only hope he was right as we continued to sit. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe, for once, I would go with a chance and it wouldn't turn out for the worst. But there was still so much to do. How would I pay medical bills? What would they want in return? These questions burned in my mind, but I didn't want to deal with them quite yet. For the moment, I continued to sit in my broken, swirling thoughts, slowly piecing together what was right and what was wrong, preparing to make my own choices and straighten out what I knew was right. The only problem was whether or not these choices would be good ones.

There's chapter nine. The next one will be posted soon. I wish I could say when, but It shouldn't be more than a month. Thank you all for your support and I'll see you next time!