A few weeks passed and America and England hadn't spoken or had any contact so it was kind of awkward at the next meeting, in New York given what had taken place between them. Arthur couldn't look him in the eye and didn't want to talk to him or anyone for that matter. He spent all the time he could at Francis' side. However, America wanted a chance to talk to him and caught him at a rare moment, looking out over New York harbour, whilst Francis was getting some food and drink for them.
"England…Artie…" He mumbled awkwardly. Arthur shied away from him, afraid to even look at him.
"I'm not interested in anything you have to say." He replied "You messed up everything we ever had."
Alfred sighed and stood beside him and a little in front of him. "Look… I just want to apologise, that was… wrong of me to come on to you like that. I should have respected your choices. You love Francis, I get that." He said "Is there any way we could maybe be friends again? We have so much history…"
Francis was standing nearby and saw America talking to England. He was going to intervene but he stopped and listened behind some trees instead. He could hear them talking.
"Please Artie, I just want to make it up to you… don't you care about me at all?" America asked, looking upset.
"Of course I care about you." England said finally turning to him. "But you have to understand the way I feel about you…."
"I know." Alfred reached out and shook the Brit's hand and smiled. "It's complicated…"
"I suppose I love you both in different ways." Arthur said "Francis and I what we have is… " England said, sort of stammering. "That is… I'll never love him in the way I love you…" He said. "You're like a son to me Alfred, not a lover, and he's like… the most wonderful man…" He said emotionally. "But.. I can forgive you okay, just don't do it again…"
All Francis heard was "I'll never love him the way I love you." And that was enough, he didn't stay to hear the rest, he just walked off, stunned at what he thought England had just said, and he kept walking.
"I won't." Alfred said with a smile. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Seems like you really love the guy."
"With my very soul." Arthur replied. "You couldn't ask for a better love than him… that's why I married him you see… I love him so much."
"I'm happy for ya Artie." Alfred said and gave him a hug. "But you'll always be my sorta…Dad.. ok?"
"Yes.. " replied Arthur hugging him. "Now you go and do what you have to do… " He said with a smile. "I'm waiting for my husband."
"Alright.. see ya in the meeting." Alfred said as he walked off.
Arthur waited and waited but Francis didn't show up. That worried him, because everything was going well … and yet he was missing. He waited all afternoon, and in the conference he didn't saw a word, he just sat there worried. Francis was gone, and Arthur felt vulnerable without him.
Things were getting really desperate and he couldn't wait till the end of the conference, he just walked out and went back to the apartment in New York with a sense of dread, and feeling somehow very very weak, so weak in fact that he could hardly walk, and there was an ache in his chest that would not go away. Upon entering the apartment he realised that Francis was gone, really gone. His clothes were gone, his possessions, everything, and he hadn't even left a note to say he was leaving.
It was too much for Arthur, he collapsed to his knees, unable to breathe properly, his muscles drained of energy, his heart hurting so much. Blood spewed from his mouth and on to the carpet. He knelt there, on his hands and knees trying to wipe it away from his chin. It took all his strength to try to call Francis on the phone but there was no answer. He texted him a few words. "I love you."
Francis didn't pay any attention. He heard his phone beeping and instead threw it out of the window. He didn't want to talk to Arthur, he was upset and angry and just a bit numb actually from what he heard. The last person he wanted to talk to in those moments was Arthur.
Meanwhile, Arthur felt his life ebbing away from him. In all the time he'd been with Francis something had been making him weaker and weaker but he couldn't fathom out what it was, and it hit him as he lay there in the apartment in New York, that he needed Francis so much… even just to stay alive.
Weeks passed and no one had seen or heard from Arthur, but by now this wasn't unusual because Francis handled all his affairs for him and did everything for him. Three weeks… and Francis was all over the place. He hadn't done anything right, he hadn't even cooked anything, and was lost without his Angleterre. He was so distant when people talked to him, and hardly spoke to anyone anyway. It was some time later that America rang him wanting to speak to Arthur.
"Francis, so glad I got your new number, what happened to your old phone?"
"I threw it out… it is a long story. 'Ow can I 'elp you Alfred?" He wasn't happy about speaking to him but he continued. "What do you want?" He asked sounding defeated.
"Ok.. can I speak to England? Is he there?"
"Isn't 'e with you?" sighed Francis. "Didn't you and 'e end up together?"
"Together? What are you talking about?" Alfred asked. "He told me he loved me like a son…" America stopped talking for a moment. "Francis…where is Arthur?"
The realisation hit Francis hard. Arthur hadn't meant he loved Alfred more than him at all, he meant that he loved him in a different way. He went completely pale, and started shaking.
"I don't know… " He uttered. "I left him in New York…"
"Christ!" Gasped Alfred. "I hope to God he's still there!"
Alfred slammed the phone down, and immediately Francis hired a private Jet to take him to New York. He felt so bad about this. England hadn't been in touch with anybody for weeks, and nobody knew where he was. He started to try to ring him but there was no answer, so he texted and texted but there was nothing.
Alfred arrived at the apartment and had to break the door down. What he saw sent him into a kind of panic. Arthur lay on the floor where he'd fallen when Francis left him, blood around his head, and there was no movement. Was he dead? What had happened to him? He felt for a pulse in his wrist and there was one, but he was unconscious there, and maybe had been for some time. Alfred shook him a little. "Artie… are you ok? Artie…?"
Arthur opened his eyes a little. "Francis…" was all he could say. Of course it wasn't Francis, it was Alfred.
"No.. no… he's on his way Artie… you hang on in there… he'll be here… you just hold on." He said as he called an ambulance.
Later he called Francis to tell him what had happened.
"He's in the hospital…" He said "They are saying he isn't going to make it…" Alfred said. "They don't know why, there's just something wrong…and they can't find what it is."
"I have to see him…" Francis replied, obviously crying. "Stay with him… tell him I want to see him… tell him I love him…" He said "Please don't let him die…"
As soon as he landed, Francis got in a cab and made his way to the hospital even though the streets were clogged up with traffic. It took him a while to get there, and he rushed into the hospital, eventually found the private room where Arthur was being looked after.
He was lying unconscious on the bed and Alfred was there, the life support machine was on and he looked in such a pitiful state.
"Francis thank God you're here!" Alfred said. "He's done nothing but whisper your name over and over… and he's fading away…" He said "The doctor says he won't last the night."
Distraught Francis knelt by the bed, and took Arthurs hand in his, kissing his cold fingers. "Je t'aime…" He wept. "I am so sorry mon amour…." He said "I thought you and Alfred were…" He tried to say, but his voice cracked and he wept deeply. "How was I to know it would kill you?"
Alfred couldn't watch. He ran out of there, tears streaming down his face. He felt like he'd caused this to happen, after all, England was his guardian, he should have understood that. He should never have tried to love him in a different way... Arthur loved Francis... not him.. not like that.
"I thought that when you said you'd die if I left you… that you didn't mean it literally…." Francis uttered, realising how ill England had been these months. How he'd been coughing up blood, how he'd just grown weaker and more dependent on Francis. "What is killing you? Is it love?" He gazed at the pitiful figure before him. He hadn't eaten, he looked so thin... so small...
The monitors of England's heart started to beat a little faster as Francis spoke and slowly England opened his eyes and took in a deep breath.
"Francis…" he sighed. "Francis… je…t'aime…" he said "Please don't leave me… I can't live without you…"
"Promise me that you will live…" Francis said "I can't live without my life… and you are my life…" He continued "I really thought that Alfred… and you…."
"Never…" England uttered "It was always you Francis… don't ever think otherwise…" he wheezed. "I was just telling him that you are the one I wanted to be with, but I would always love him as my adopted son… you see?"
"I do now…" Francis wept. "I love you Angleterre… I love you… ."
"Je t'aime…" Arthur replied through his delirium. "I love you."
Later that night the doctor told them that some miracle had happened and he might live after all, but it wasn't going to be something he'd just recover from. He needed Francis there, or he would die, and Francis really didn't want to be anywhere else. He would stay by Arthur's bedside till he was strong enough, and he promised himself he would never ever leave him alone again.
Even later that night, as Arthur slept, a doctor entered the room, he introduced himself as Dr House and shook Francis' hand. "Excuse me sir, are you his next of kin?" He asked.
Francis nodded. "He is my husband." He said. "What is happening to him?"
"We don't know for sure." Dr House replied. "There seems to have been some sort of energy drain. His physiology is all wierd... he's not like a normal human being... but I wouldn't have said alien or anything like that. I think you know what he is..."
"We are...nations." Francis confessed immediately, he didn't see any point in keeping it a secret. "Me... him... that garcon in the hallway drinking all the coffee and swearing a lot..."
Dr House blinked a few times, not sure what to believe. "Oh... okay so you are...?"
"France." Francis replied.
"That asshole in the hallway drinking all the coffee and swearing a lot?"
"America." Francis said "Sorry."
"Oh no need." Dr House replied. "So...which one is he?"
"United Kingdom..." Francis whispered.
"Oh... that explains a lot." Dr House said. "Britain was known as the sick man of Europe in the seventies... or didn't you know that?"
"Excuse me?"
"Read your history books if you don't believe me... then of course being France you probably know that already... just teasing me right?" Dr House said with a strange look on his face."Maybe he's got the same problem he had back then. Of course I wasn't his physician..." He said wondering about that. This was the first time he'd ever come in contact with actual nations, it was kind of a strange experience for him.
"No. I don't think so." Francis said. "I think its something I..."
"What?" Dr House asked looking at him suspiciously. "Something you did?"
"Dr House...?" Francis asked "Have you ever come across an organism or ... a creature that might absorb the energy of another?"
"Only people in general." Dr House replied as he prepared an injection for Arthur. "It has been proven scientifically that we feed off each others energy... like energy vampires." He said. "I think it can only happen if... one person is in need of energy and another produces a lot of it..." His eyes widened as he spoke. Surely France wasn't draining Englands energy ...was he? "Oh wait... you don't think you ...did this?"
"I think I did. I think I might have almost killed him." Francis replied, as tears came to him. "I couldn't help it... I didn't know..." He said. "What have I done?"
