London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady

A USUK FANFIC

Note: I am not very sure about this chapter, and I think it is kind of boring, but it had to be done.

More funnier things await in the next one~~

Enjoy!~~

Chapter 9. When two become one? – OUR Special relationship-

PART. 2

He watched, like he had done before, his cherished mentor break down in tears.

He saw it flow, uncontrollably, just like last time that rainy day. He saw those fat tears roll down puffy red cheeks, saw them travel further down to land silently on the bed, their sound muffled by the heavy fabric.

He did not know if he knew he was there, sat there, while the other he let himself show his most vulnerable state, his most vulnerable side that he never allowed anyone to see.

His fragile mind, concealed by harsh words, frowns and pointless bickering. Now showing and revealing everything, every emotion and every dark secret he had always hidden so well.

This wasn't the first time this had happened, and Canada would probably never know if it would be the last. He had thought the last time he saw a similar scene would have been the last, the final time he would see his mentor like this.

But no.

Here he was again, and for the same reason.

His brother.

Canada watched with sad eyes as the man in the bed's sobs began to slow down, and how his posture became even more hunched as he bent down in exhaustion. Silent tears still rolled down pale cheeks, but the sound of sobbing were now replaced by harsh and heavy breathing.

The strained intake of breath spoke tons, and you could clearly hear how so very tired the other was.

It was only after a few minutes that the nation's breathing began to still, and it was only then that the man turned to catch the others worried gaze with his own.

"C-C…Canad-a…" the other voice out, his voice damaged and raspy like a dry leaf.

"Canada, I-I'm sorry…" he said, as his eyes traveled down to stare down on his still fisted hands. The downcast nation gulped, as he felt his throat being uncomfortable dry, making every word he spoke hurt.

"Again… A-Again I show you this ugly… this ugly side of m-mine…" he stuttered out, as more tears began to flow down his cheeks as he tried to smile at the other.

Matthew watched the others strained smile with a slight frown, his brows knitted in concern, as he put his hand over the others.

"England, It is alright." He said softly, as he gave him a gentle smile. He could feel the others piercing gaze on him, but the mellow nation was content with watching the others hand under his on the bed. It wasn't before he could feel the other shift and before he knew it, the smaller and much colder hand was now on top of his, instead of the opposite. He looked up and met the other, and he was rewarded with a small smile, and a genuine one this time.

"Thank you." The island nation said, almost in a whisper, as his eyes began to wander to set its sight on the door, his gaze muddled.

Sensing the others thoughts, the Canadian shifted awkwardly in his chair, before he chose to speak.

"You know, he meant it." He said. "Honestly." he added, his voice gentle but firm as he watched the other. "Every word."

He said slowly, as he pulled his hand away from the other, and put it on his lap.

On the gesture and the words, the other slowly turned to face him, eyes still distant.

A shallow strangled breath escaped the others lips, as his figure hunched down again once more.

"Is that so…" England murmured, as he trailed his fingers down the ups and downs of the blanket in his lap.

On the very much blank answer, Canada knew he wasn't getting through to the other.

As much as he wanted to shake some sense into the other, it wasn't his way of doing things, and it would do more damage than good anyway, surely.

"I mean." he thought. "Just look what happened to Francis…" he hummed to himself, as he watched the other attentively, drawing invisible circles, over and over again with his fingers.

After sitting in silence for minutes, the Canadian too began to slump in his seat, feeling defeated.

"You don't believe me, do you England?" he said, his voice flat and laced with traces of bitterness. He chuckled then, a force one, which sounded much darker than what it was meant to be. "But really England." He said, now gaining the others attention, as he looked into confused green eyes. "How can you be so dense." He said, his posture now straight and his voice a mask of steel and seriousness.

The former superpower began to feel uncomfortable under the piercing purple gaze of his former colony, and that face of indifference the other had on made the tense moment even more so.

"Why won't you see it for what it is Arthur…" the Canadian said, a bit gentler this time, but he was still masking quite fearful expression of indifference. "See it for what it really is!" he said, his voice going up in volume. "For what it is, instead of something unreachable, like you think it is…" he said, his brow furrowed once more, and a sad expression masked his face soon after.

The Canadian's confession echoed in England's mind for several minutes, or so it seemed as the silence was again very prominent in the small room.

A sigh then broke the silence, and the bedridden nation tensed up, as a reflex on the sound.

"You know…" A much softer voice began, as he watched the others tense up before him. "He watched over you, every day since we all got here."

This made the somewhat uncomfortable silence ven more so, and England's eyes widen when he registered what the other had said. He turned his face slowly to meet the other, and he was just about to protest when he got shushed before he even had the chance to fully open his mouth to voice them.

"He was forced to leave by his boss." He said as a matter of fact. "He made quite a fuss about it honestly, and caught a big stir when they went here to get him." He smiled then, fondly, as he met green again. "He only went when they promised for him to return when he had cleared up what he had to do."

Watching the other take in what he had said, he added in a lower voice.

"He never wanted to leave you, England."

As Canada allowed the other his time to get the information in, he could only watch the others face, that flashed in different emotions. All from the never ending doubt, to confusion and to shock. But then his face all went blank, which made the other frown in confusion.

Before he had any time to react or question the other, the smaller male suddenly covered his hand over his mouth, the action followed by a loud gasp.

Alarmed he stood up abruptly, nearly tipping his chair in his haste to get to the others side.

But his reaction of alarm had all been in vain, because when he got closer, he noticed how the smaller man's cheeks were a dark red, and his eyes wide and glazed over, making them shine even more. Shocked, he stood there, frozen in place, but soon a smile spread on his face getting bigger and bigger as the realization struck him.

"It finally got through."

The thud of a door closing followed by a heavy sigh was all that could be heard as America bid Good-bye to his Boss, that was to return to the States later that night.

Just as he began his trip back to the hospital room, he witnessed an odd sight ahead. A few meters before him in the long corridors that seemed to never end, was the personification of France, walking and half supporting a very shocked British Prime minister. He quirked his head to the side, questioning, as he approached them.

"Hey France." He began as he watched them dumbfounded. "What are you doing out here? And what is the matter with.. Uhh… Mr. Cameron here?" he asked, as he pointed at the older man on his right side, confusion written all over his face. He had never seen the usually collected Englishman so shattered, and so out of character.

"Ah, Amerique." A strained France said, as he tried to push an away some strands of his bangs that covered his vision with his only available hand. "You finally finished your little chat, non?" he asked, as he tried a small smile to the American.

America made a face at that, as he sensed something was not like it should be. Letting his eyes travel between the two men, he stopped as he glanced as the Frenchman with a slightly worried expression.

"Is everything alright?" he asked quietly. "And where is Matt?" he then asked, as he looked around. Suddenly something flashed before his eyes and his eyes widened. "Did something happen with England? Did he get worse? Why did you leave his side, he could be in trouble!" he chanted hurriedly, as the panic in his voice seemed to grow by the second. Just as the young adult was about to pounce of the corridor towards his intended, he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder, avoiding him from moving from his current place.

The Frenchman eyes the other with a bit of humor in his eyes, but when he saw the very much stern stare from the other, he only shook his head fondly in response to his question.

"Anglaterre is just fine, and Canada is currently by his side." He said softly. "Well," he added, as his gaze wandered to the side and to the very silent prime minister. "As fine as he could be, on this circumstances, and when it comes to his physical health…" he said, trailing of at the last word. "His mental state, however…" he thought bitterly, as he sighed loudly, making the American frown at his word.

"I… I don't understand." He stated. "You say he's fine, but everything else about you says he's not. So, what is it, really?" he asked, his eyes glowing darkly behind his whirled frames.

France slumped then at the others words, and as he eyed the young nation before him, he smiled weakly.

"Amerique, Your little Anglaterre kicked us out." He stated firmly, as he tried to get the wobbling man by his side to stand by himself. "He seemed to have taken your words, back then, in not the way you would have wanted him to do." He added, his smile turning bitter once again.

"Really, Alfred." He said. "What were you thinking?"

The American tensed up then, the question burning like fire on his skin.

"W…What do you mean with 'What I was thinking…' " he said, as he looked at the other with a deflated expression. "I.. I finally told him my feelings!" he said, a bit more confidence shining thought his voice, as he fisted his hand. "I.. I know it probably wasn't so romantic and... and kind off out of the blue but… but, I told him! I told him and that is what counts and-" he said, but got interrupted before he could say anything more.

"Alfred, My boy, You didn't tell him." A voice said, laced with sadness.

America flinched then, shocked as by electricity by the Frenchman's words.

Just as he was about to question him, France started to speak.

"You didn't tell him, not directly." He said, his eyes locked to the other.

"We others knew very well what you meant by your words, but he…" he said, and he couldn't hold in a strained sigh from escaping his lips again.

"He… as per usual, misunderstood." He said, blue eyes shining with something akin to regret.

"He semmed to have taken it as some cruel joke… some joke while he was weak and more vulnerable for it." He said softly, eyes still on the other nation.

America stood still then, frozen in place. He couldn't think or speak, as dread started to fill his whole being. "No… No It cannot be he… he didn't get it... he… he thought I..I-…" he thought, as his mind whirled with all kinds of emotions, creating a never-ending chaos in his head.

"When I tried to explain to him that he was wrong, he got so angry his magic started to go amok… And then he all but ordered us to leave him alone." The Frenchman said, as he finished explain the situation to the other nation.

As France eyed the world's current superpower warily, he couldn't help but to feel pity for the boy. Pity on the fact that he had failed at his attempt on showing his feeling for the one he had love since his most earliest days up til' now, and to get seemingly nothing for the strained effort.

He noticed then that the American seemed to be lost in his thoughts, and in deep agony.

He took the other shoulder again and shook his slightly.

"Hey, Alfred." He said, as he smiled. "No need to get so depressed." He said, nodding assuredly. "Canada is by his side, and he knows how to handle him when he gets like that." He added as a reminder, before he removed his hand from the others shoulder to further support the other man by his side.

"I should probably attend le Ministre to someone more capable to get him going." He said, as he began to walk away from the other.

He turned his head after walking for a bit, only to tell the other one last thing.

"Listen to me thought, Mon Cher." He said. "Don't go to him right away, you should probably give him some time…" he said as he trailed of and resumed his walk down the hall.

"By tomorrow, I'm sure, he will be fit to confront you, and you him." He added, before he turned right and disappeared with the Minister down another hall.

There, in the same place, stood the personification of the United States, frozen as he brooded on what to say to his beloved English nation the following morning.

After getting pampered and fussed over by his former charge, England was finally alone in his room, and in his bed. And alone with his thoughts and loudly pounding heart in his chest.

He swallowed hard before he hid his head under the warm blanket. He wouldn't get much sleep tonight, that's was for sure.

"Hmm..." A shadowed creature hummed in the darkness of the chilly London night. Cold and harsh winds slashed through the streets and the figures clothes, chilling an ordinary man to the bone by its unmerciful touch. But not this one. For this person was not human.

"I see you made it, after all My dear England." The figure mused, as he juggled an apple in his left hand, throwing it high up in the air, only to catch it, over and over again.

"But I am not surprised, after all, you were once soo great." The person said, almost in a purr, as he grabbed the blood red apple firmly in his palm, squeezing it hard.

"But…" he said, his voice velvety smooth. "This was but the beginning of something so, soo much bigger," he said darkly, as he shot down, only to take a large, hash bite on the apple.

A big grin then plastered itself on the dark man's face, as he gave an evil chuckle, golden juices trailing down his chin.

"Till next time, Sugar." He whispered, before he disappeared, only a half-eaten apple glistering in the light from the nearest streetlight acknowledging his existent as he disappears into the dark streets of London.

Note: And I give you... The culprit and the one responsible for hurting our England! (heh heh heh...)

I thought I should atleast give you all a little sneak peak on this mystery person, and now you know he is spying on him! And watching him from the shadows...

Again, sorry for the borning chapter, fun is about to start, I promise!~~

Till next time sweeties~~