P.O.V America

To my surprise I woke up in a hospital. Because of my sped-up healing and immortality I'd never really been to one before so it was all new to me.

The room I was in felt very sterile and the wallpaper, though blue, was still very close to white. I was lying under thin sheets which didn't do much in the way of comfort of warmth but since the radiator on the wall seemed to be turned on, this wasn't a problem. I looked to my left and saw a heart monitor beeping. The metallic noise was constant and steady so I felt relieved at knowing things were all right in that sense.

I wasn't wearing my shirt or jacket anymore, they were neatly folded over a nearby chair's back, but there was a long white bandage wrapped around my right collarbone and under my arm. I lifted an arm tentatively to my neck but found no pain when I touched it. It must have healed completely after they took the bullet out.

I'd participated in every war America had ever fought so of course I'd received plenty of injuries but I knew from experience that only the symbolic scars stayed. My nose would probably always be broken but I guessed that underneath the bandages my skin would be completely unblemished, but for the sake of disguise I couldn't reveal that fact too soon.

I glanced around for any other personnel but my small hospital room was void of anyone but me. I needed to get someone's attention so I could get out of here but, like I'd just realised, there was no-one around.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" I called in a clear voice, sounding absolutely fine to my delight. After the fourth I never liked any recovery taking too long.

Then someone walked in. The door had been closed so she must have been waiting outside it for whatever reason.

Her strawberry-blonde hair was wavy and pulled back into a high ponytail like a traditional cheerleader. In fact, that was the sort of image I got from her. Her skin was rosy and her brown eyes were fairly large and made-up. She was wearing a white blouse that had its sleeves rolled up halfway up her biceps and tucked into a knee-length pleated red skirt. Her tights and shoes were black and she had a thin leather watch around her left wrist.

She wasn't very tall or thin but she stood up in a straight and strong way that vaguely reminded me of soldier being called to attention. She was looking slightly up at me so her chin was raised as she spoke.

"You shouldn't be awake yet." her voice wasn't suspicious, thankfully it was only concerned.

I frowned at her in confusion, "Are you a nurse or a…" I asked open-endedly, hoping the woman would fill in the blanks for me.

The woman shook her head, "I don't work here. I was just waiting for you to wake up."

The confusion on my face only strengthened. I wondered aloud why on earth she'd be waiting for me when I didn't even know her but her answer still felt peculiar.

"I'm the one who brought you here when you were shot. My brother and I couldn't just abandon you so we left. But he had to go home to tell our dad what had happened." she closed her eyes but I could tell just from her face that she was scared, "We'll get in trouble but if you weren't there things could have been a lot worse."

She opened her wide eyes again and extended her hand, "I'm Amelia, Amelia Banister. You?"

I didn't shake her hand. I instead rubbed the back of my head, feigning a migraine to give me time to think.

"Alfred." I lied.

Amelia grinned, "Okay. On behalf of my brother, I thank you, Alfred." she said this all rather formally but after seeing my expression she began giggling.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Sorry." she chortled, "I was just imagining Roger hearing me say that." Amelia met my eyes, "Do you want me to call a doctor since you're feeling better?"

"Can't I just leave?"

Amelia pouted, "Do you want to get rid of me so soon?"

My eyes widened and I began denying it hurriedly but this only made her laugh harder, "Just kidding." she said in a sing-song voice, "You can't leave the hospital just like that, or there'd be a bunch of injured people escaping before they're ready. I'll call a nurse for you."

Amelia turned around and walked out of the door. The moment it slammed shut I brought both hands up to my head and began to panic.

"Crud!" I exclaimed under my breath. They'll know there's something up if I let them inspect me! I thought, Crud, what am I going to do?

I looked around and grabbed my shirt and jacket but I was only halfway through buttoning it up when a male nurse came in. He had short blonde hair that was brushed in a way so it spiked up but his sea-green eyes were dull.

"What do you think you're doing?" he questioned at the sight of me about to make a break for it.

"I think I'm better now so I want to leave." I said quickly but the nurse didn't look quite convinced.

"Your friend mentioned you'd woken up already but I'm not quite sure how. The bullet shattered your collarbone and should have left you in quite a bit of pain."

I smiled nervously, "I'm a really fast healer." I made sure to touch my head and blink a lot as I talked so my lies could be passed off as me merely having a headache.

The nurse frowned, obviously unconvinced, but then he held up a clipboard, "You were brought here by Miss Banister but she couldn't give me any of your details. I need you to answer some of my questions so I can file this properly, are you okay with this?"

I felt like I had no choice but to nod.

The nurse leant forwards so I was able to read his little name tag. He was apparently called Justin Johnston. He looked down at the sheet and uncapped his pen, "So, what is your name? he read.

"Alfred...Jones." I wondered idly whether there was actually someone called Alfred who'd get annoyed that I'd stolen his name.

Johnston wrote it down, "And how old are you?"

"Nineteen." I invented and he noted it again.

"And, I hope you don't mind if I ask this, but how did this happen to you?"

I hesitated but as I did so I got a suspicious look off Johnston so I relented, "I was in the city and doing my shopping but then the riots started. There was this one person...irritating the police officers so they were about to fire in retaliation. I wanted to save him so I...um...jumped in the way."

I wasn't sure whether the expression on his face was him thinking I was lying or not believing I was such an idiot. But it was the truth so I didn't really have much to say after that point.

Johnston finished writing so he put the lid back on his pen and pocketed it. He rested the clipboard on a small polypocket attached to the foot of the hospital bed then looked up at me.

"Can you please take off your shirt again? If you are as fixed up as you say you are I 'll still need to inspect your injury." Johnston said.

I raised my arm defensively so it blocked my collar from his view, "You don't have to. I'm not in pain anymore so it's all good, right?"

Johnston frowned, "I need to see how much you've healed. The fact you are moving as you are pretty remarkable as it is, especially since your injury was quite serious, but before you leave I must be able to judge your state." he insisted.

How do I get out of this? I thought in a panic. Johnston' gaze was insistent and boring into me persistently. I held out for as long as I could but eventually I had no choice but to submit.

Johnston huffily unwrapped the clean bandages around my collarbone after I'd grudging been forced to take off my shirt. I saw him looking confused at the fact I hadn't bled at all while I was stiff in anticipation, waiting for the inevitable moment when I'd have to explain myself. Then the dressings were gone. I saw Johnston gasp and I forced myself to stay still.

"Wha-what?!" he exclaimed in a surprisingly quiet voice, "But I saw...how...?" his eyes darted up to my eyes and I saw the colours in his eyes swirled, like moss floating atop a stormy ocean. I edged away from him on the bed cautiously, "I saw you were injured. You were shot!"

"U-um..." I stuttered but I couldn't come up with a single lie that would explain it plausibly, "Sorry!" I yell before grabbing my shirt and jacket with one hand then shoving the poor nurse out of the way. I wasn't particularly good at knowing my own strength but thankfully we were in a hospital so if he accidently got too hurt he could get the aid he needed.

I threw on my shirt haphazardly then quickly buttoned up my jacket to hide it. I dashed out of the room but skidded to a halt the moment I got out of the room. If people spotted me sprinting then they'd think something was up.

I looked down the corridor and my eyes danced around in my sockets as I tried to find my way out by following the signs, hoping I didn't look too lost or suspicious.

"Hey, Al."

I wheeled around, very much looking like a rabbit in the headlights of an oncoming car but then found it was just Amelia.

She caught my expression and her face fell but her face still looked somewhat cheerful, "Do you mind if I call you Al?"

I shook my head and forced a smile, "Nah, it's fine, Amelia. They said I'm fit for release."

Amelia grinned back, "Then you can just call me Amy. I don't live too far from where you live, I can give you a lift if you need it."

"Wait, how do you know where I live?"

Amy looked away sheepishly. Her face became even rosier, "We searched your jacket to try and find out who on earth you were but all we found was a note in your pocket. What kind of person walks around without even a license or anything?"

I slowly reached inside the inner pocket of my jacket and took out a carefully folded, then hastily refolded, piece of paper.

I yelped in recognition of the small, purple writing. If lost, please return to...then my address. I could practically hear England's snarky voice. My mind began to feel like it was being pumped full of air until it was to the brim with questions.

When did he write this? How did he know I was in trouble? How the hell did he get my jacket?!

"Al? Are you okay?" Amy asked, clearly concerned.

I composed my face again, "N-nothing. I just didn't know he'd put this in my pocket, that's all."

"'He'? Do you have a brother or something?"

"Yeah." I said sullenly. I didn't want to think of England as my brother again but the thing that really made me sad was thinking about Canada. He'd been fighting against the Axis Powers will the Allies all this time.

Thankfully, Amy didn't press any further. Instead, she grinned and began walking. She indicated for me to follow so I followed her through the hospital. I avoided the gaze of any of the employees in case Johnston had somehow already sent out a warrant for me or something.

We got outside and Amy stopped near the car park. She began tapping her foot almost straight away, "My brother's gonna be picking us up." she explained.

I glanced nervously back at the hospital entrance doors but then turned back to Amy, "So what were you doing in the middle of that riot?" I queried.

Amy began looking nervous, "My brother. He's been getting awfully fussed about the British so he wanted to go along. I came with him to try convincing him not to but then...well, you know."

"So what do you think? About the war, I mean." that waiter's comments and my own actions had been making me confused so I was keen to get some citizens' opinions.

"I don't feel like they should be forcing it on us." she said immediately. Amy didn't say much more than that.

We waited for a few more minutes while we made occasional small talk but she didn't say much more after that. The evening was very cloudy in a stark contrast to the sunny weather we'd had earlier that day but it felt apt to my mood.

Finally, she spotted her brother's car and dragged me over to it. A stocky man poked his head out of the window and beamed at me. He had much darker hair than his sister but they shared the same wide brown eyes.

"Hey! It's great to see you're better!" he began to open his car door but Amy held her hand against the metal.

"C'mon Roger. We gotta take him home now. Y'know the small road that branches off into the forest near the Lyons' place. His house's up that road." Amy explained.

Roger kept smiling but rolled his eyes at his sister. He leant over the passenger seat of his car and unlocked the door on that sight. He invited me in and I sat down awkwardly.

Amy deflected a lot of his questions for me but I could feel the two siblings' eyes flicking towards me all throughout the journey. I didn't mind the questions so much since I was very much enjoyed the company but it was the lying that I hated. Not only was I pretty bad at coming up with things like that on the spot but I also didn't like having to lie to such cool-seeming people so my mind was a mix of relief and sadness when the car finally stopped.

"Thank you for the lift, guys. It means a lot." I said but the Banisters looked too surprised by the house.

"Wow! You live in a mansion?!" Roger exclaimed.

My face reddened, "It's...my brother's. I'm just staying here while he's working."

Roger unlocked his side and exited the car with me. His mouth was ajar as he stared at the large house. There wasn't much of a garden but it was surrounded by woods so it still got the pretty view despite being isolated.

I quickly unlocked the door but I stopped at the threshold. I looked back and smiled at Roger, "Seriously, thanks for doing this."

But Roger waved me off, "This is nothing." he put his hand on my shoulder and stared into my eyes with the utmost gratitude, "You saved my life. I'm not going to not help you. I only wish I could've..." he paused and quickly fished a pen out of his trousers. He held my wrist still as he hastily scribbled something on my arm.

It was a phone number. I looked back to Roger and his grin grew somehow larger, "Think of that as your nine-nine-nine. If it's legal and nearby I'll come to help you, got it?"

I nodded but then my eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly hugged me. He then stepped back and walked backwards into the car door.

I nodded at him and walked inside the house as he watched me go in. I closed the doors slowly and then heard them drive off.

I looked back grudgingly at the Englishman's house but then I realised something was wrong. The cards and bowl weren't on the table anymore.

I stepped further into my house very much like a person who'd come home to find their door unlocked. It had been locked but the insides of the house felt very different. I peeked through the living room door and found everything spick-and-span.

I immediately ran. I sprinted up the staircase and kicked open England's bedroom door. I didn't know whether I'd really expected him to be there but in the end it didn't matter. The evidence was there.

I'd left his room a complete mess. I'd knocked over his bookshelves and torn off his bedsheets but the room I walked into could have been a display for a furniture catalogue. Everything was so neat and tidy but there was at least one thing out of place.

I trod lightly across the light blue carpet and made my way over to his bed as if I was walking atop a minefield. Unlike my room, England had a window. The white curtains moved gently and fluidly from the breeze coming through the now-open window. The evening light shone in a diluted way onto the floor because of the thin curtains but I didn't turn on the lights. Instead, I reached out and grabbed the envelope lying on the blankets as if it was waiting patiently for me to pick it up.

I ripped it open with no regard for neatness and took out the letter, letting the paper cover fall to the carpet.

The ink was purple so I knew this was a message from England, he loved looking all mystical, but the handwriting was completely different. It was absolutely tiny and was written shakily but was still clear enough. I held the paper close to my face and began to read.

Relayed from England via Poppy,

I feel as if you would ignore this message if I'd called you so I simply asked Poppy to write this down since she was the one who'd answered the phone.

These sentiments will almost definitely go unheeded and I understand you are angry at me but this is uncalled for. I do not have the time to deal with protests when I'm in the middle of fighting Germany. With France the way he is this is especially important.

I was worriedly you would accidently run into the riots and get hurt and it appeared these concerns were not unfounded. Poppy called me earlier today about you getting shot. If you are reading this then I assume you have healed and are home safely. Poppy, Sparkles and a few of the others have tidied up since you appeared to have left it in quite a state (I thought I'd taught you how to tidy up after yourself).

But the real reason I'm writing to you is as a warning. I will keep the measures on Britam at this state until the situations for me improve but I implore you not to go starting up any more of these riots. All you're hurting is yourself.

I gripped the paper tighter. It was as if he thought I was behind them. I glared at the letter. I couldn't believe how patronising England could sound even when he wasn't actually talking.

I got shot in the riot but I was fine now. I was a nation, humans couldn't hurt me for long, so I had no idea why England would be worrying about me.

But then, almost as if the other nation had predicted it, I lurched forwards. Pain blossomed in my chest but my mind held no confusion. I knew exactly what was happening but it didn't stop me from being terrified.

Something was happening in my capital, I knew it as clearly as I knew I was America. It wasn't the physical condition but it felt like I was having a heart attack. It was as if my heart was imploding and a hammer had slammed into me.

'What has he done?' was my last thought before I sank to the floor.

It's almost as America is my puppet and I'm performing the Draco Malfoy song from HPPP - 'America like fire' e.t.c - People should not be given this power *insert evil laugh here*

It's sad, this won't be lasting for much longer, two chapters max. I want to publish the final chapter on the 4th July so if there's a long wait or whatever it's probably because I'm just biding my time.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did, or didn't, I'd appreciate if you review so I can improve for you! :D