It was Tuesday night. One of those days where you're glad it wasn't Monday but still dreading how early it was in the week. The promise of homework didn't help the American too much either, nor did his procrastination which lead to worry about not finishing it and then bad grades and blah blah blah. Alfred's mind had been a mess lately of not only Arthur but the rest of his life too. Why had he been chosen to have the burden of procrastination carried upon him as a child? !

He was lying on his blanket that was sprawled all over the bed when his phone rang. To be honest, the first thing that came to his mind was that his father was calling him. No one usually called him unless it was one of his parents to yell at him which, even after meeting Arthur, still scared him enough it made him think he was going to die. But he decided to do what a brave man should of, a hero to say the least.

Picking up the device with a small clink of his Captain America cell phone charm, his eyes wandered over the screen lighting up with not his father's name but Heracles instead. That...was odd. Yeah, they had texted back and forth a few times, Heracles certainly had his number, but they had never actually talked over the phone. Heracles also didn't seem like the type to like phone conversations either.

By the second ring Alfred had picked up the older phone, pressed the green button, and put it up to his ear with a mildly concerned "Hello?"

"Hey, Alfred..."

"Hey, Heracles." Kind of a weird way of starting this random conversation...

"Did you...did you hear about the kid who got hit by a car yesterday?" Heracles sounded a little more breathy than usual.

"Um, no actually." It must have been one of Heracles' friends. He felt bad for the guy.

"Well that person..."

Silence.

Alfred waited for a response, not wanting to rush him for an answer. If his friend had died it would have been a hard blow to Heracles' state of well-being. Instead he chose to sit up on his bed and wait patiently. And his patience was rewarded.

"That person was me."

"...what?"

"I said I was hit by a car. Yesterday, on the sidewalk outside the school."

"I don't..." It took Alfred a second to process this but his mind wasn't as slow as everyone seemed to think. "OH MY GOD! Are you okay? !"

"Erm, yeah. I've got...I have a broken arm," -slight gasps of air could be heard every few seconds, being amplified by the cell phone- "my leg's broken, m-my...my collarbone, and my pelvis."

Alfred almost dropped the phone. He'd only known this guy for what? Almost two months? And he gets hit by a car! Heracles of all people! Hit by a car! The idea of such a nice and quiet guy being chosen out of billions by God to be flung through a windshield and broken into tiny pieces was so insane it was almost funny. In a sickening torturous way by all means.

"I...I'm so sorry Heracles. I promise I'll visit you. What hospital and room number?"

"Oceanfront...room 558. Y-you don't have to come. And it's...not your fault." The oxygen was fighting Heracles' lungs on the other line. It was obvious he was hurt, even when just hearing his voice. Seeing him would be a whole 'nother deal.

"I will come. And I don't care if this isn't my fault. You didn't deserve this."

"Thanks..."

Alfred waited for the tears. When they didn't come, he wasn't surprised. He wasn't even sad. It just meant that one shard of his heart that had been repaired by Arthur had already broken again.

Had he honestly thought that change was in his pathetic, worthless grasp? His hand didn't even have the strength to stretch for those desires.

God chose Alfred as his sufferer, and that was his past, present, and future. His soul.

And all who met his glance felt the wrath of God as well.

He spent his week like normal. Arthur was shunned for reasons unknown to the Brit. Arthur certainly hadn't done anything, had he? He may have touched Alfred a little but...but Alfred knew why. It was obvious. Even if Alfred had resulted to listening to his iPod throughout the seven periods of the day instead of engaging in conversation, he didn't hate him. There was no way.

Alfred didn't even notice Arthur's concerns. Listening to The Midnight Beast was a better way of leaving the present than choosing to talk to the older blonde. He was in the middle of TMB's "Pizza in Ibiza" when the earphones were ripped from their small caverns in his head with a fast yank. The menacing glare couldn't be matched by anyone as Alfred swung to meet the eyes of Arthur sitting in their 3rd period class.

"What the hell do you want? !" Sorry God, sorry God, sorry God, sorry God.

Arthur ignored his malice. "Talk to me."

"Just shut up, okay? I'm over you playing me and I'm restless enough as it is with my friend in the hospital!"

Alfred's friend...was in the hospital.

"You-"

"Go talk to your stupid British-obsessed fangirls," Alfred let himself leave this ugly world and follow the eighth notes to the next song on shuffle.

He couldn't be too bad. Maybe a little roughed up but only a few scratches, right?

The doors lining the hallway all looked the same. Alfred kept moving forward towards where he hoped Heracles' room was supposed to be. He got to the end of the hall it was a dead end. When he looked to his right, he found the number he had been looking for. Room 558.

A gentle knock and then he was inside the small room smelling of medicines and that infamous hospital food left uneaten on the tray. Heartbreak coated the room in a hopeless aura. Stuffed animals, plants, flowers, and cheap toys lined the window. There was an open chair next to the bed and...the bed. Heracles, he was there.

Alfred cringed. The sight was horrendous. His friend was sleeping in an awkward angle. There was road burn on his forehead, his right arm in a twisted cast, stitches and what looked like glue on the side of his nose, his hair a mess, messier than he'd ever seen it. He was glad the blanket was covering the rest.

There was a paper taped to the side of the metal bars connected to the bed. The lines boasted of the rest of his invisible injuries.

Road burn on forehead and along right side of patient's body from waist to shoulder, stitches along left side of patient from hip to shoulder, broken leg, broken ankle, detached side of nose, closed-in head injury, broken arm, front and back of pelvis in pieces, not eating.

And then in pride the paper stated what had been done to improve his friend's well-being.

Two rods implanted in right leg and arm, nose glued back onto face, stitches on left side.

Tears.

There was no hope in that tiny room on the fifth floor that day. There was no hope in that room any day. There had been no hope for Heracles since he had been hit at 50 miles per hour and crunched into the windshield for 40 more feet. The sneakers filled with blood scattered on the street and a neighboring lawn told no happy story. His friend's twin brother screaming for him not to die had not called for a response from God. The lady who had almost killed him and answered questions from the police through her window had no sympathy for the child laying half dead in his twin brother's arms.

Alfred left the hand drawn picture, elephant stuffed animal, fuzzy socks, and "Get Well!" balloon on the chair adjacent to the bed. He ran out of the room, through the hall, skipped the elevator going for the stairs instead, and out the doors of the hospital.

There were rivulets of tears gleaming on his face. Alfred pulled out his phone from his right pocket wanting to talk to somebody, anybody, when he saw the small icon signaling he had a new text message.

New Message

Arthur Kirkland, 11:27 am

'Do you have a minute? Meet at Panera's?'

Alfred clicked the 'reply' button.

Reply

To: Arthur Kirkland, 12:34 pm

"fcking hel no. I dont give a dam"

He knew he didn't use correct spelling or grammar. He honestly didn't give a damn. Not now. He threw his phone into his jacket's pocket and kept walking. What he was walking from and what he was walking to, he didn't know.

He only wished God had chosen him instead of Heracles.

Sad chapter is sad but true. This really did happen to my friend, as you may have already guessed that all the characters mentioned in this story are based off of people I know in real life with the given exception of Arthur. I would explain more of what happened to Heracles but it didn't really fit. Sorry I haven't been posting. I'm really busy. I finished this instead of my homework. The ending just kind of happened. Anyone have any favorite America pairings except for the countries already used? (England, Prussia, Russia, Canada, France, Greece, etc.) I'll probably have to use one of the characters I've already used...stupid me for writing on a whim.