Losing Grace

By Ryukansen

Chapter Twenty Five: Broken Spell

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Author's Notes: I lied. I'm so sorry, apparently I can't count. The second to last chapter is the next chapter - which is the main epilogue. Reviews anyone?

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It had been so very long. So very long, indeed. He almost waltzed into the room in happiness after hearing who his patient was, and took no time to get to the hospital after the sudden calling.

He had to admit, it was perfect timing after Wang had gave him his clinic- and he knew how very awkward it may have seemed to his Nurses after he had entered in with a soft smile gracing his lips. He almost seemed sane in the eyes of his co-workers.

But in truth he was very unstable inside; too caught up to his feelings as he begun to twist the golden knob that lead to Alfred.

"Who's in that room, anyways?" Toris asked as Ivan slid towards the patients room with alertness and obvious nervousness. Feliks flipped his hair in the process of explaining and informs him some "Alfred F. Jones" was currently occupying the area, and seemed to be Ivan's eye of fancy. "What happened to him?" The brunette asked the light blonde, who was staring at himself in the mirror.

"Heard he got shot; said it was an accident." He replied nonchalantly, but a soft glimmer of empathy flooded his usual uncaring gaze. "I pity him. It's obvious to everyone it wasn't an accident especially with all those nail markings engraved on his flesh." He murmured while batting his lashes and turning towards the room Alfred was in. Toris let out a sigh ; there were so many accidents today.

"Well, I suppose it's my and Taiwan's turn to take care for this patient, correct?" The brunette sighed while taking a clipboard and gathering up a few blank sheets, and a nice black fountain pen. Feliks nodded solemnly as he helped gather some equipment and called for Alfred's meal through phone.

"His dish will be up in a couple of minutes." The blonde replied while tossing his hair and looking at his nails with careful perception.

Meanwhile as Toris begun to trudge along with his grayish cart, he had managed to find Taiwan peaking through the patient's room. Her face was rather sour, and a big frown was plastered onto her pallid face as she batted her eyelashes in concern. "Taiwan…are you alright?" She head Toris' voice call out from the end of the corridor. He was slowly moving towards her, as he struggled to push the heavy cart towards the end of the hallway.

"Y-Yes, I'm fine." Her voice betrayed her sweet smile and she seemed almost as if she was going to cry.

"What's wrong?" The other Nurse asked, staring at the silver plated numbers on the patient's room and scribbling it down in his spreadsheet. Taiwan bit her lower lip as she stared back into the room and had to register who the patient was.

"The patient…I know him." She whispered staring into Toris' hazel-green orbs. At first the other nurse was surprised, but the Lithuanian's shocked expression slowly melted into one of complete understanding.

"Ah, well…it's bound to happen to some people." He replied rather pessimistically and clipped the fountain pen in the clipboard's clamp. The young girl sighed and nodded in agreement.

"It's just…he's been through so much, and now for him to be caught in a random skirmish? The only one wounded, too! It's just too much." She replied, her voice aching as she attempted to peer back into the slit of the doorway. Toris clapped his hand on her shoulder and let out a reassuring smile, his fragile strength was slowly steering her away from the door.

"At least, he knows he's in good care." His eyes were smiling, and his lips were that much more graceful than before.

She would have been smiling as well if it weren't for Ivan's sudden calling.

Ivan's voice always had a strange effect on his nurses. How much it pained them to hear his cold, soft vocals and yet how tempting it was to listen to.

Taiwan and Toris were currently outside the doorway, and they were too loud and clumsy for him not to notice their presence, and so he called for them with a quiet, demanding voice.

The two assistants entered with fragile, breaking smiles as they found their doctor sitting on a stool very close to the patient who was quiet all the time and held no smile of his own.

Apparently Ivan didn't need any of their help, but as soon as they entered, the room's atmosphere got even more thickly coated with some evil. Ivan seemed upset; disappointed, and even afraid as he clutched tightly onto the patient's golden tanned hands. "Alfred…do you remember me?" The Russian asked as he stared tenderly at the patient who refused to look up into his gaze.

A curt nod, but no other reply came from the other man.

"Very good, can you look at me please while I check you up?" Ivan asked quietly, biting his lower lip as he eyed the blonde with glimmering velvet eyes.

Taiwan could see how lecherous his stares were at Alfred and something seemed to be unsettling in the pit of her stomach whenever her doctor gazed at the young man with an open tenderness. Ivan began to check all about Alfred's sculpture and seemed to be enjoying himself as he touched the said man's soft, plump flesh and dangled around with his golden hair.

Taiwan understood how intimate Ivan was getting with Alfred, but said nothing as she eyed the two in their morning check up.

"You are getting healthier." The Russian quipped immediately with a strange friendliness none of the nurse's would have dreamed to see. Alfred slightly nodded his head, and looked away - his blue eyes darting outside the window into the pasture.

He had been like this all day long. He was intentionally muting himself from the world as he crossed his arms in defense and buried his head against his thin shoulders. Taiwan couldn't help but see how miserable he truly was. How his blue sapphire eyes always drooped down to the lowest part of the room, and how his mouth always hung in remorse when he opened it to breathe or lick his chapped lips.

He was just like the other patients; a pure emotion of misery.

As she continued to take care of the young American, and attempt in bandaging his chest all over again, Ivan excused himself momentarily. He seemed a bit off as of late ever since tending to Alfred, and was probably off to get a hot cup of coffee or green tea to calm his nerves.

Alfred was their first patient in the area, but nonetheless, he seemed to embody the whole feeling of dread as he sat slumped in his bed staring out at the blue, endless sky.

He was absolutely, just like any other patient.

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He never expected to have reunited with Alfred in such a twisted manner of events; and yet, despite his luck, the moment he had stepped into that room he could see his Alfred had changed.

He was expecting a sun shining greeting with wide-opened arms, and a grin, but as soon as he took one peek at his interest, it proved to be something else.

Instead of that heartwarming welcome Alfred would always give him, he was greeted with silence and a totally new atmosphere swelled inside the patient's room.

It was dark and cold; it was just the same as every other patient he had had to meet, and yet, this time it was frighteningly more pessimistic.

Alfred's alluring blue eyes were washed away with a new rainy gray color, and his hair was still golden but not as lively as it should have been. Instead of the smile he was seeking for the young man was reduced to nothing but frowns, and Ivan could have sworn his heart nearly skipped a beat as soon as he saw the changed being.

It wasn't possible though! Of course it wasn't! His Alfred couldn't simply change. After all, God had given him Alfred. Alfred was his savior from the pain in having to meet those wretched beings; and now…is this Alfred's true nature? He could not simply accept that! No, he will not.

What happened to the jovial child who would always greet him despite the hardships? What happened to the strong boy who had caused him so much happiness? Why should he accept that Alfred has changed, when he can simply force the man back into what he should be?

The doctor sighed as he paced back and forth in the middle of the hallway. He was enraged. Absolutely furious.

He was growing crazy just to realize that Alfred was not the same! He grounded his teeth together, rolled his eyes, and pulled his hair as he thought hard of what to do. How to save Alfred F. Jones from his own destruction? The young doctor hyperventilated numerous times in quick intervals as he slumped on the floor and buried his silver mane in between his arms.

How could he save this wretched soul from hell? How could he make Alfred realize his feelings? He had no idea…and yet, his hands itched. His hands itched to run his whole being into the patient. He wanted to rip the man apart; just like the other patients that had caused him so much pain.

He was disgusting to look at. But…no worries, Ivan conjectured, he would soon make Alfred beautiful again.

Standing up from his slumped position, and patting his clothing he was going to purchase coffee from the local vender, but stopped halfway through the hallway upon seeing Feliks pushing a cart of meals in absolute distaste.

His hands twitched as he caught a glimpse of the silver platters in the young man's grasp, and his sour frown suddenly uplifted into a brilliant smile. "Ah, Feliks, you have been working so hard. Let me take over, da?" He asked with a hidden agenda, and took the cart away from the man.

"Ah…well, if you want, but like…give me back the cart so I can give it to the ground floor." The Nurse exclaimed after him as he disappeared through the end of the hallway.

Ivan's hands were shaking with ecstasy as soon as he uncovered the meal. In it was a perfectly planned dish consisting of vegetables, poultry, and sweet rolls. Beside the dish Feliks had managed to write down that dessert would soon come on it's way, and Ivan could not with hold any more of his freakish smile.

But, the food was not part of his plan. Of course not. Who could do anything with this food, but to choke the poor fool? No. He was not aiming at the delicious meal. He was aiming for something more appetizing. More appealing.

So as soon as he skipped practically towards the American's room, he had commanded for both Taiwan and Toris to leave the room immediately. They did as they were told much to his pleasure and now it was just him and the poor, disgraceful man.

"You don't look so well, da?" The doctor asked a little bit quickly, his voice was desperate and was cracking as he begun to push the cart into the area. Alfred said nothing, and clutched onto his white sheets without a care. "Do you know what I liked about you, Alfred?" Ivan asked, leaning closely to the American's face as he licked his lips in satisfaction.

"…I liked how you always came and smiled at me whenever you came to visit." He whispered and started biting the other man's lower lips in abuse. Alfred did nothing, and remained still; however, he seemed panicked at what the doctor was going to do next.

After all, Ivan was always unpredictable.

"But you know…you are pretty ugly these days. Did you know that?" The doctor asked, his violet eyes scanning him for any emotions; and he leaned closely towards the American and let out a chuckle. "You have become an ugly swan." He murmured, hissing. "I liked the duckling better."

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"Arthur, everything's going to be alright, ok?" Francis and Matthew both were reassuring him as they patted his back with comfort and bit their own lips with fear of the injured. "The doctor came and said everything was fine, and it'll be just a couple of more seconds till you see him." Francis added, making Arthur nod in fright as he gazed terrifyingly at the entrance to the patients corridor.

It had been well over an hour since Alfred's admittance to the hospital, and he had heard nothing but the doctor's happy reassurance that Alfred would be perfectly fine if he was in the appropriate care. Well, they should hurry up - because everyone knew Arthur was the best of care Alfred could ever receive, and just the plain silence of the whole hospital was making him jitter in annoyance.

Matthew was biting his sleeve, staring at the clock, counting the seconds that had passed by while fumbling with his phone in the other hand. He had just been texting to Kiku, much to Arthur's demands since the British man couldn't even text the poor manager himself, and was fidgeting inappropriately in his stool. Francis all the meanwhile was trying to calm him down.

"Remember, the doctor said he was fine. Just extreme blood loss, but everything else should be fine." The Frenchman murmured softly while rubbing the American's hands gently against his own.

They squeezed their hands tightly as they awaited for their messenger, and yet as the clock ticked by nothing seemed to be going on.

A couple of nurses would walk here and there, but none would come back to talk to them. They were all in their own minds, chattering about gossip or something stupid. Arthur just wanted to know Alfred's current condition! That's all he wanted to know.

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Ivan was hovering slightly on top of Alfred who seemed to be pressing himself hard against his uncomfortable mattress. The two locked eyes on one another; one incredibly insane while the other had simply given up everything in the world. "You disappoint me." The Russian whispered in his thick accent as he clutched softly onto a strand of golden hair. He inhaled the scent of lavender, and he smiled bitterly as he reached his hands out to the cart and pulled out a gleam of a silver object, quickly.

"But don't worry….I'll make you happy and beautiful again." He replied and touched their foreheads together.

Alfred was rendered speechless at the man's behavior, but nonetheless, gave no reaction whatsoever. He just blinked nonchalantly, challenging the poor doctor to do his worse.

And to Ivan, the worse would come immediately.

"What is making you so sad, my poor flower?" He whispered in the patient's ear as he gazed at the man's body with a pained expression. Alfred batted his eyelashes with no words escaping his sweet mouth. "Is it your leg that pains you? During check up examinations, I found you limping." He whispered softly, and yet Alfred gave no response.

What pains me? What pains me is how horribly, disgusting I am. What pains me is how selfish I am, how I thought I could have everything I wanted.

"I will fix it for you." He muttered darkly, and then a quick jolt ran through Alfred's body and suddenly pain reaped through his left leg. He could smell blood dripping, and as he stared at Ivan with wonder, the young man revealed a serrated-edged knife promptly stuck into his leg. "You're even more beautiful with the color red." He replied in amazement, and took the knife out slowly, tormenting the poor man.

Please, let the red keep flowing…I don't deserve anyone. How could I be so stupid? How could I toss Liechtenstein away like that? How could I have ignored Vash's feelings? How could I have made my brother cry so many times? How could I have made Arthur cry so many times? How many times did I drag these people to me? How selfish am I?

"And yet, you still seem so sad, you won't talk to me." The Russian replied and whipped his head around to face the American who was anticipating what he would do next. "What hurts you so much, Alfred?" The doctor asked slowly, but without any signs began to thrust the knife back and forth into so many other spots of Alfred's legs, thighs and even his arms.

"What hurts is this painful existence…What hurts is how much hurt I have done to my friends and family…I'm not worthy to be with anyone."

The American gasped in pain, and moaned in agony, and Ivan seemed to be displeased with the pessimistic noise. "You're really disgusting, did you know that?" He asked and gripped the young man's blonde hair in a fist. "But no worries, I will make you how you once were." He replied nonchalantly, and pointed the knife at Alfred's mouth - ready to slit it open to try and make it appear as if it were a smile.

"You will be my Alfred after this is over." The Russian whispered and brushed his lips against the American's lobe, but suddenly the door flung open with a distressed Toris and Taiwan.

"Code Stork! Didn't you hear it, Mr. Braginsky?!" Toris asked in panic, but stopped finding blood seep through the floor in a huge amount. Taiwan went screaming, and Toris just gazed in horror. Never in his life, had he seen so much blood.

"What's going on here?" Feliks asked, and stopped in his position as he found Ivan hovering over a pained Alfred. The poor American was breathing in a hoarse voice, and seething in pain as he attempted to close up his own wounds by covering the slits with the blanket in order to stop the profuse bleeding.

"I-Ivan, what did you do?" Toris was attempting to retrieve the knife from Ivan's hand but nearly got cut in the throat by the doctor's sudden movements. Feliks thrust himself upon the ogre, and took the knife with relative ease before dumping it in the trash can and dialing emergency numbers in the electronics patch against the wall.

Alfred was still moaning in agony as extra help came and pulled away the crazed doctor who seemed to be chanting on how ugly the patient was without his smile. Alfred crunched in his place, and let out heavy breaths.

It was not until Arthur and the others arrived with sheer impatience that they found the poor man suffering from numerous wounds.

"W-What the hell happened?" The Briton called out, and rushed towards his lover's side as he clutched onto Alfred's hand trying to calm the poor man down. "Alfred, Alfred, calm down. We're here." Arthur cooed, and yet the American would not listen. The poor man kept on crying in agony.

"D-Don't worry, we have called a backup doctor to take up Mr. Braginsky's place." Toris sputtered while fumbling with the bandages and aiding the poor patient with as much help as he could give. Feliks ran off to find any more comforts and pillows to make Alfred feel a little more comfortable while Taiwan stood in the same shock she had shown earlier.

"What happened?" A stern voice replied, and both nurses turned around to find Alfred's angry twin: flushed face and all with tears spouting from the corner of his violet eyes.

Francis was pulling the poor man away from doing anything rash to the Nurses, but Matthew's mind was growing crazy from all the past interaction Alfred dealt with and couldn't seem to think straight.

The poor American wanted his brother to be healthy and happy, and now the man was given this? Another couple of stabs in his body? Why? Why was it always him? Tears rushed down his face as he demanded an explanation and yet the nurses had no other excuse to give him.

How could they hire such a demented man for such a high and respectable position? How? He was crying, and so he could not muster out the words with his failing strength. Alfred had just fallen asleep; or one could say Alfred had just slightly begun to rest albeit his ragged breathing.

The three men were now sitting down next to the patient while the nurses begun to go with their daily business and try to handle the media going from downstairs.

"I don't understand, why it's always him." Matthew suddenly piped up as he used a Kleenex to wipe his tears away. Francis put an arm around the poor American who looked as if he were going to sob again, but he proved the man wrong as he sniffed a couple of times and gazed intently at his brother's figure.

Arthur was the problem though. The Briton was all over the room, staring at every angle at Alfred with all his might as if the American would wake up if he did it. "Come on Alfred, please, wake up?" The young man pleaded, and yet the American took his time in sleeping.

"It's best for him to sleep after all the tensions he had gone through, aru." The voice was familiar and all heads whipped around to find the replacement doctor. "I had a sudden call from my sister." He whispered quietly and sat down on an empty stool gazing at Alfred with pure sympathy. "I'd never expected to see him in this state." The oriental doctor whispered solemnly and gently glided his fingers on Alfred's knuckles. Arthur could tell how serious and gentle Wang was with Alfred, and allowed the man to touch him despite his irritation.

"So…how did he get a bullet in his chest?" Wang asked immediately after eying Alfred's body with a pained face. His brows furrowed in distaste as Matthew begun to spin lies much to his own chagrin, but Alfred explicitly stated that he wanted none of his friends and family to be put in harm (meaning in other terms: jail).

"You think I'd believe that lie, aru?" The doctor grumbled and plopped a pill down his own mouth from avoiding the impending headache was going to get from all the talking going downstairs with the media. "I have known you for years with Kiku and Taiwan. Don't take my friendship so lightly." He snapped and glared at all three men who looked ashamed.

"Vash shot him." Arthur piped up seconds after and looked at the marble floor with shame. "He shot him out of his love for his sister." He corrected while shuffling his fingers together against Alfred's arms.

Wang stared at the interaction between the two and frowned while gazing back at his patient with a calm demeanor.

"And I suppose all these wounds came from Ivan Braginsky, himself?" The doctor pointed out at all the bandaged up areas with horror thread into his voice. All three nodded. "My god." He replied with a heightened interest.

There was something about Wang that made everyone calm down. He was a perfect doctor for these stressed men, and was an essential factor in keeping everyone sane. Arthur was feeling relieved as Alfred's heart monitor started showing signs of improvement, and seemed to be taking things quite easily after a couple of minutes with Wang. Francis was already comfortable with the doctor, and Matthew was alright.

There was one thing that bothered Matthew about Wang. It wasn't that he didn't trust him, but there was a sadness that lingered in the man's chestnut eyes whenever he spoke - and Matthew knew it had nothing to do about Alfred…

He was about to ask Wang a question about the whereabouts of Hong Kong, after finally remembering the lad's name, but Alfred had awoken up; fluttering his eyes open with a sense of confusion.

"Alfred, can you hear me?" Wang replied craning over the American; his face inches close. Alfred nodded slowly, and gazed at everyone in his room. The light in his eyes seemed to have faded after landing his eyes on Arthur. "Good. I want you to sit up, and remove your mask carefully, alright?" The doctor replied slowly and sweetly as he gazed at the patient with patience. The other three did as well.

"…Wang…I-I need to talk to…" Alfred's voice cracked as he stared at Arthur with remorse. "I-I…"

"Calm down." The Chinese muttered with boredom. "I understand, Jones." He sighed and walked out of the room to leave everyone in their moment.

Arthur quickly dashed towards America's side and clasped his hands on Alfred's while showing expressions of relief. "I'm so glad that you're ok! I was so worried -"

"…Arthur…" Alfred whispered darkly, glaring at the said man intentionally with intimidation. " After getting shot by Vash. I was reminded something." He whispered pulling his eyes away from the man. It was too painful to glare at Arthur. He loved him so much…and yet, there was dread marked up all over his heart and mind. "I was reminded something that I should have been holding onto long ago." He whispered.

Arthur gazed in confusion, his tears seemed to have halted, and he got up to look at Alfred straight in the eye. His mouth quivering as he tries to cup Alfred's cheeks within his own grasp. Matthew stands up, in understanding and is about to protest but Francis immediately stops the younger twin by clamping his hand over the man's mouth.

"I was reminded of how much I should be blessed to be with you…." He begun positively while gazing away from Arthur's forest-green eyes. "And yet I was also reminded that…" He had a battle of coughs. " I can not be with you." He whispered, regretfully while closing his eyes.

Arthur was silent. What?

"I can never be happy, Arthur." Alfred continued. "It's not just you…it's everyone." The man whispered while bowing his head down. "I can't be happy at all, with anyone." He whispered, staring away from the crowd out into the blue.

Arthur wanted to cry, yell, protest, anything but his mouth was clamped shut.

"Because if I'm happy, someone else is sad." He admitted, and closed his eyes - his voice croaked in fear and pain as he clutched onto his chest with shaking hands. "It's not fair." He reasoned. "It's not fair. With my selfishness I have caused both you and Liechtenstein along with Vash the most pain." The American cried while forcing himself to look up at the Briton who was unknowingly shedding tears himself.

"What are you saying?" Arthur asked strongly. His own hands were quivering in fear.

"I love you Arthur, and yet…" Alfred cups Arthur's cheeks with a soft smile gracing his lips. He kisses the bridge of his nose, and showers more kisses to the tip of his lips. "And yet, I am so selfish, I do not deserve any of you." He conjectured and removed his hands away from Arthur's cheeks.

This was the last time Arthur felt the warmth of Alfred's fingertips.