PLEASE READ ENDING NOTES!

Alfred found his situation completely and utterly unwarranted.

His position, and his absence from school wasn't alarming in the slightest, it wasn't dignified either but once he gained the much needed momentum to sit up on his own. His feeding tube wasn't reluctantly pulling, and for that he was oddly thankful, whether or not an unwarranted silence was intentional by the random male nurse that just seemed to strut his way into his private room and make no attempt to at least lighten the room.

The random man wasn't trained.

He was actually.

Alfred was just in denial of his certain circumstances.

Skinny fingers were getting raw from picking at the rough bedsheets though, he was cold, and the 'natural' air was not making it any better. Papa and dad were in the hallway with the nurses. It was really embarrassing. Alfred could speak for himself.

Alas, there was a knock at the door.

"You can also call me Antonio, if you like…" His smile gleams in the horrible hospital lights, overly-happy and a bit obnoxious. Arthur decided it was something he'd have to live with for now, at least.

"I'll leave you three alone." The nurse scattered away, more than likely forcing herself to tend to another patient.

The air was stiff, but it seemed that the obnoxious social worker recognize the shifts in general reconciliation – and even though Francis didn't seem to give a second glance towards the closed hospital door, the Frenchman also failed to have some form of competence when it came to shocking atmosphere. But, judging by the way he was holding himself, even he could see that the smell of bleach and the cold floor was lacking vibrancy to consider their antagonizing long wait a pleasing one.

Maybe Arthur did need a break.

His deep thought expertise was ended when a hand was slowly trailing up his back towards his shoulder, comforting and relaxing. Francis had always been amazing at making him melt into putty somehow. He hated it, detested it. Vile piece of information was willingly leaked to the world. He inclined himself to rest against him, he needed to feel warm and comfortable and loved. The feeling of want wasn't existing. It broke him.

Whilst he was deep-seated, Francis let him go.

This forced him to be the sole-communicator for the time being. He wasn't handing those reigns to Arthur. Sad and horrific notion that maybe forcing the Brit to take ropes on something he was all too familiar with seemed like the perfect idea on paper. But executing these terms in the way of reinforcing a strong sense of enlightenment in a moment and scenario Arthur had wished to never let his own children experience for themselves was visibly taking an emotional toll.

He still held him close though. Sympathetic. Just like before.

"- as of now, I have a few questions to ask the both of you."

Antonio was smart enough to lead them somewhere private and comfortable. It was respected and kind of him, but it was also a bit troublesome because they were stranded to deal with their dwelling sense of compunction and slightly irrational Arthur had thought as he was dragged to a decent sitting area.

They were led to an area that seemed to be closed off, halfway in public perception, and the other half hidden behind a wall, it looked like a kids' area. There was toys and a little TV on the wall with some books and colouring books. It was quiet, and if Matthew ever came to visit, (which he would, more than likely) he'd live for the hushed area. Such a gentle and quiet kid Matthew is. Francis misses him.

They sat down in faux leather, not typically comfortable for obvious reasons, and the social worker had obviously sat across them. A clipboard had sat on his lap, yet, he stilled smiled. Arthur was getting irate from the buoyant personality that just seemed to flood them. Francis was happy, it was a change from the depressing atmosphere, but even he knew that his husband was very proper, and reading the air around them was mandatory. Mr. Carriedo got comfortable, left leg crossing over the right, he propped himself up to look more professional Francis would to have guessed.

"Okay, so to start off with, what happened?"

It was unfortunately a cue for Arthur who perked up. "Well, uh, I picked up Alfred and Matthew up from school, and took them home. I needed to go grocery shopping-"

"Alright," the Brit had thrown on his coat, it was cold outside – and the mid-November air was biting Arthur's skin as of late and he didn't want to freeze to death, "I'm going to the grocery, do we need anything specific?" It would be a short run, just some small items they needed, milk, bread, and maybe some jelly, they were running low.

"Dad, can you get syrup." Oh yes, Matthew, who was colouring in his animal themed book, seemed to be idly aware of the question, but answered nonetheless. He brushed a curl from his face and nice violet eyes were beautifully present in the luminescing lights of the island in the kitchen. Cold marble making the child's skin cold and like ice, but he was still comfortable.

"Not unless you come with," Arthur's voice was lively, and joyful. It wasn't a bad day. Just a cold one. Stomping some old shoes on, he made sure to wrap an old green scarf around himself. Matthew on the other hand wasn't very surprised by the response, the boy nodded and struggled to reach his feet towards the ground. He was still young and growing and also eager to run around obediently, which was something he wasn't used to. Comparing Matthew to his older brother Alfred, They were completely different people.

When he reached the door, Arthur helped Matthew into a warm jacket, there really wasn't any reason for a thick coat (which Arthur had laid out a week ago because he knew the cold weather was coming). The youngest had put on his light up Ninja Turtle shoes, Velcro because Matthew was having some trouble learning how to tie his shoes, but that's okay.

The two boys were promptly leading towards the door, bur prior to leaving, he popped his head into the kitchen, where Alfred was, doing his homework more than likely it seemed. Messy sandy hair was unkempt from the freezing winds, cowlick pinned down by a hairpin as to not draw attention.

"Alfred, you're not going?"

He shakes his head no.

"Okay, we'll be back in an hour at most, if you need anything text or call."

"Yeah," he says hushed. Pencil more aware of itself hitting the paper than Alfred would ever be of his family's presence.

"Okay then love you." Him and Matthew head out the door.

"What happened when you found him?"

Harshly breathing in, Arthur shook his head, "To be honest, I don't remember that much.." He replied genuinely. Fingers clutched the edge of the pleather seat in what, anticipation?

"Then tell me what you do remember."

He nods and shifts slightly.

"We got home about 45 minutes later, and when I put things away in the kitchen Alfred wasn't there, which is normal. Matthew went to his room-" He stretched himself out and looked into the space between the two other chairs in front of him.
"I went upstairs to the master bedroom to put shampoo in the shower, walked out and realized the hallway bathroom light was on with the door closed, went to tell Alfred we were home, got no response, and I guess it escalates from there."

"So, in short, you're the one who opened the door?"

Arthur nods. Toni writes that down.

"Do you possibly think this was intentional, and do you think this could happen again?"

It was a considerable and reasonable thought. As likely as it was, Alfred wasn't the type of person to just try something like this again. He also didn't seemed like the type to 'participate' in self-harming activities.

He finally came up with the best answer, "…I don't know."

The Spanish man decided to hum, whether sympathetically or in confidence seemed to throw the other men off slightly. It was hard though, keeping an undeviating expression as well as emotion. It was obvious that Arthur was a very 'high-strung' person per say but he also had issues keeping certain emotions thwarted.

Pleather under him seemed to exhale.

"-When do you think this started?"

"Maybe around six months, a year?"

"How do you think?"

Arthur was about to respond before he noticed something, more like… Remembered something.

The pocket knife.

"…I lost my pocket knife."

Instead of the Spanish social worker reacting to the sudden confession, it was Francis who had shot his head over to Arthur.

"…what?"

"A couple months ago when I was doing laundry I realized it was missing but forgot about it. Could he-?" He stops himself as tears layered the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall out like before. Francis held him even closer though, unable to remain inattentive to the thought that…

Antonio was happy to step in for the couple. Predominately to give comfort. What he was trained for. What he was there to do. "Quite possibly, si." He replied solemnly and with sincerity.

The couple sat there in what Arthur could only describe as shock, it was a wrong description though because, if he really had to pick a word. It would be 'disturbance', it certainly sounded better and more relaxing in a way, a bitter one at most, but it worked better than the before mentioned one. Mr. Carriedo was kind enough to let them sit for a moment before continuing.

"Do you have any idea to what could have led to this? Any kind of triggers? Has he complained or told you anything alarming?"

"No, and come to think of it, he never really tells us anything."

"Never?"

"No, never."

This disturbed Antonio.

Wood knocking on flesh seemed to twinge the air unpleasantly.

Then a figure walked in obnoxiously with a smile on his face.

"Good afternoon, my name is Mr. Carriedo, you can call me Antonio or Toni if you like-"

He held out his hand, and Alfred didn't take it. Toni didn't seem to be phased.

Alfred was unfortunate and lacked to notice the fact that Antonio was making himself comfortable, and the previous nurse saw that as an indication to walk out and let them have some privacy.

"So it seems you don't want to talk." Toni seemed to accept the response, for it wasn't anything new to his field of work. He's worked with clients and parents that refused to talk or even do as little as give eye contact. So this behavior wasn't alarming especially someone who is in their mid-teens.

"I will be your social worker, I help with outpatient therapy, as well as being your basic psychologist until you leave the hospital."

He still doesn't respond, instead forced his eyes to glare at the blanket covering his legs.

Antonio clears his throat and sighs, shifting slightly to lean forward and force himself eye level with Alfred who again moved his own line of sight elsewhere. The Spaniard decided that he was going to be a fairly hard one. But it was challenge that he was going to take.

"Anything you tell me I cannot share with anyone outside this room unless I feel that it could hurt someone or yourself, so to begin, I need your side of the story. What happened?"

Rather than taking one for the team, Alfred reluctantly stayed quiet, casting little to no attention to the man he was feverously avoiding through this whole thing, he decided staying quiet was his best bet. Nails raking across the thick blankets' fabric to cope with the sudden privacy violations of a man he didn't even though was frightening as well as insufferable. He already had to deal with this from his family at home, but judging by the way the guy seemed to idle and calm about it – almost relaxed made him angry and even as his father put it, 'cross'. A psychologist was a stupid concept, he was fine, and he knew he was fine, why the hell wouldn't anyone believe him.

"Alfred, I can't help if you don't talk."

He didn't need any help, he was fine the way he was. He was doing fine in school, he wasn't bothersome at home, so why the hell would he need help? Pulling his legs even harder towards his chest, he remained silent as he closed his eyes, trying to block out the white noise that permeated the air. He could hear Antonio sigh.

"…Al, I want to help."

"Don't call me that." He snarled. His fingers twisted into the bedsheets angrily.

"I'm sorry, but I need you to talk to me so I can help."

"I've got nothing to say-" Voice almost mute, but thanks to the lack of other noise in the room, Antonio was able to decipher the words quite clearly.

"You do realize if you don't talk to me, it's a guarantee visit to the psych-ward where you will more than likely have to talk to me anyways." The brown haired Spanish man was frank and stern with the comment was a complete contrast to his attitude just minutes or even seconds before, he leaned forward even more to try and catch the blue eyes within their line of sight, but it was nearly impossible the way Alfred had placed his head completely away from the man.

"…and if I don't there?"

"It'll just be harder for you to go back home."

The American didn't oppose, but he still remained silent. Forcing his fingers to move in a rhythm to leave his hidden anxiety at bay. They seemed to be completely hidden to Alfred's delight.

In actuality this was wholeheartedly noted.

Antonio still sat there though, waiting. It takes time to talk to someone you're unfamiliar with and trust was meant to be a big thing here.

"…here…" Standing up and scooting his chair closer to the bed, "Let's start off smaller, was coming into the hospital like this intentional?"

Alfred clearly shakes his head. "No."

"So this wasn't an attempt on your life?"

He shakes his head again, "No."

The brunet adamantly wrote that down.

"Now I need to ask you a few questions about you and your family. What are some things you enjoy doing together?"

The blond was hesitant, but spoke quietly, "Sometimes they watch movies together or go to the park."

"Are you implying that you don't usually join them?"

"Not usually anymore…"

Breathing in, Antonio of course wrote this information down, not typically vital, but a little was enough for now.

"Do you take these opportunities alone to cut yourself?"

He nods. "Yeah usually."

"Do you get along with your family decently?"

"Yes…"

Both men firmly stayed their ground, calm, and Alfred found this alluring and unperturbed. Allowing Antonio to get this information on a decent note was worth an applause to his client, and a pat on the back for himself. He was glad his nice and bubble atmosphere made him so charming to get his job done so nicely.

"Back to my first question though, I need your end of the story Alfred." He got his pen ready as he waited for his response. It came slow but it was still there.

"Dad and Matt went to the store, I finished my homework and…" He hesitated and let his eyes close tightly, still looked away from the man, "I went to my room and got my knife-"

"Was it a pocket knife?"

Alfred bowed his head in shame.

"Yes." He sniffled.

Giving the boy a moment to recuperate his emotions from uncontrollable sniffles to actual tears, he let him continue slow-paced.

"…T-then it's pretty self-exclamatory from there."

Putting down his pen, then laying the clipboard on the table next to him, he let out a breath before letting his arms stretch for a moment, Alfred wasn't doing too well though, he could tell he was doing everything he could to keep his tears at bay, and he felt the need to point it out.

"It's okay to cry," He smiles with a chuckle. "No one's going to make fun of you."

"And how can I know that?" Slumping his form and finally opening his blue eyes, he adjusted his head to face green ones that were annoyingly bright and happy and seemed to be excited to see his blue ones

"It's just you and me, I can't tell anyone anything, so it's okay right now, but I have more questions to ask you…"

"Ask away," Alfred replied bitterly.

"Looking at your records, it seems you're nearly 30lbs underweight, is there a reason for this?"

Shrugging his shoulders he lets out a dramatic sigh, "Depends."

"Do you purge your system of food often?"

He of course nods and tries to hide his face slightly, pale and inhuman because his red eyes seemed to circle his eyes. Alfred himself didn't realize that had appeared. Eyes glossy, hopefully they weren't technically noticeable unlike his glasses, which was either taken by the nurse or his parents had them, because apparently being informed that you're on suicide watch by and 'underling' was the best move to make to someone who was filled with apprehension. Guess they were considered a 'suicide risk'. This was fucking petty of them.

"Why?" the question seemed to linger above Alfred's head like bait.

He weaved his fingers to get lost in the fabric, "…because I can." He replied feebly.

Antonio didn't consistently sit with a patient and think like that, but he had to draw some conclusions himself. If he was basing a prognosis on what he was looking at or what he heard, as well as what Alfred was admitting, he'd conclude an eating disorder. Now, whether or not it was intentional was up for debate, he could be doing it because he was just feeling sick, leaving him to vomit and purge his system intentionally, but also unintentionally hurting himself. Now, of course maybe intentionally, countless reasons were possible, just like obvious ones staring him in his face. His parents said he was a smart kid, teachers have told him he was a smart kid, so if he as aware of what he was doing, who was to say he didn't know the consequences of his actions.

"How did you figure out to make yourself purge."

The blond cracked his knuckles in hesitation, "I found it online."

"Where...?"

"…I searched it obviously."

So the purging was intentional.

"You do know the consequences of doing this to your system, correct?"

A groan was heard and Alfred closed his eyes in frustration. He was irritated, and was suddenly hit with a wave of drowsiness, the medication flowing into his system was making him feel heavy. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, but responded nevertheless, the quicker he answered, the quicker the bastard would leave.

"S'ppose." He laid himself back down, trying not to seem so tired but failed when Antonio smirked.

White teeth somehow glowing under the lights as he smiles, Antonio was finishing it off for now.

"How much sleep do you get at home?"

Yawning again, he was closing his eyes as he tried warming himself under the blanket, he was almost dying from the cold. "A little bit."

"Why a little bit?"

"Because it's for the weak."

He hummed in response, and as Toni made himself ready to leave, he walked to the door and flicked a switch off, making the room more bearable to the eyes, and walking out, Alfred was gone like a light switch.

"Good news." The brown haired male perched himself, "No psych-ward."

Both parents let out a sigh of relieve, but this was halted when the social worker spoke again.

"But we may have a case of either bulimia or anorexia nervosa on top of the other forms of self-harm, the best I can do is wait until he wakes up again to talk to him more, but getting a personal psychologist is probably better for the moment."

Tightly grabbing Arthur's hand, he could feel his awareness and sudden tension, Francis was scared.

No, he was terrified.

Did I make any mistakes? I know some things and questions were a bit short. I was just going by my slight personal experience. But still, grammar mistakes? Lining mistakes or character and wording mistakes? Let me know! And I'll fix or change it!

Okay, so now, I'm in a heated debate.
Should I add PruCan, or should I just make Prussia an adult and leave Canada to be a cutie, because I have big plans for this boi! Please let me know.

Also, Russia and Romano and other character will be added, either next chapter or the next couple of them.

/((This fic isn't to offend anyone! I am going by personal experience, and this give me the opportunity to research psychology for my OWN career, I'm sorry if any information or interpretations are wrong, and if they are, please tell me so I can fix and change it!))/

/EDIT\\\
**RECORD SCREECH**
Me: *pops up in front of a camera*

Hello! So when I posted this, I didn't realize what file I was uploading! So there is unexplained misinformation in here that I wanted to address right here. Okay, so In the actual final version I do address the topic that bulimia and anorexia are pretty different. I state that Alfred is 30lbs underweight, whilst accidentally giving the option that he was bulimic. THIS IS FALSE! Bulimia in short: Means someone who purges their system and/or participate in weight losing activities BUT STAY WITHIN WHAT IS CONSIDERED A 'NORMAL' WEIGHT, or just weight that's sort of normal for you and/or height ETC.

I'm sorry for this misinformation and the reason I just don't reupload this chapter is because I had saved this slightly edited doc in the place of the finished one, so I am SO sorry for misinforming you! I will make sure to be more responsible with what I place as information and I am upset with myself for being so irresponsible with this topic!