Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Warning: This story contains drug abuse, rape, and mental disorders. It's rated T until further notice.

The clock on the far wall to his right kept ticking; a not soft or calming sound that only made him be on-edge instead of calming down like he should. Alfred was sitting at the edge of the sofa, his eyes fixed on the forgotten coffee he'd asked Arthur to give him. It was a strange situation; his clients didn't usually come by his house. In fact, he had never given any of them his address, yet, Alfred somehow managed to find it. Arthur glanced at the clock once more. Twenty five minutes had passed in complete silence; was Alfred going to talk? Wasn't he here for that? Arthur was about to lose his patience when the other cleared his throat; almost immediately, Arthur gazed at the other, noticing how he blinked not once, but twice, more than that, like he'd been unaware of his surroundings until now.

"Oh…" The little word escaped the other's lips as he looked around, bewildered, until they landed on Arthur, whom gave the other a slight smile, hoping this will make him talk. After all, that's all that matter, for him to talk.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, and Arthur shrugged.

"No need to apologize, Alfred," he said, trying to make his voice sound as comforting as possible. The guy nodded, which made Arthur wonder if he'd been heard. Another silence fell across the room, the soft ticking of the clock growing louder and louder. Arthur sighed. The silence was sure driving him insane, which was weird, since he was used to the silence; he craved for it at times. But this silence… It suffocated him; it made him want to scream, because it was felt with something, something that made him be on high alert, something that will cause him to break down soon.

"Did you know people used to drill holes through your skull whenever they thought you had some kind of demon inside of you? At the end, it was just a mental disorder, but before… They thought that would cure them… Like an escape way for the demon that was causing them to act like that… It's really interesting, you know, to go from that to the top chemicals nowadays scientist study to determinate what will help fight such horrible disorders… And did you know that most people after the First World War thought they were deaf, but actually it was only their brain that made them think that, feel like that?" This outburst was sudden, random, unexpected. Alfred had started talking not about himself, not about his reasons of being here, but about psychology and history. Arthur stared at the guy, his eyes in disbelief as he wondered what compelled him to talk about this and how he knew this, he'd never imagine Alfred to be one to study psychology… Or history to an extent; from the files he'd received, he seemed more of a physics guy…

"Y-yes, trepanning is really interesting. the beliefs of people lead them to think of the wildest things, and even though they seem barbaric and almost inhuman now, it was the best they could come up with to explain the unexplainable," Arthur agreed with the other, a sly smile playing at the corner of his lips. It was rare; he'd never imagined having this conversation to any of his patients, yet the sunny blond started a conversation of old methods use to fight mental diseases. He truly was strange, but Arthur didn't mind, in fact, he liked his attitude, spontaneous and energetic. This conversation kept going for an hour, Alfred always throwing out facts of history he had learned, and Arthur giving more detail about it, being the one knowing most about this subject. It was almost nearing midnight and neither of them had notice, until the old clock started banging, Arthur turned to look at the hour, surprised it was this late, before he turned back to Alfred only to find him looking very pail and scare.

"Alfred?" The Briton asked, his eyes quickly trying to find his source of discomfort, but not being able to find any; he turned back to the American, his eyes widening as he saw him wrapped his arms around his knees and started rocking back and forth.

"I don't wanna go, Daddy, don't make me go… she's mean to me... Daddy, listen… please listen to me…" Alfred was lost, his eyes giving off that distant look, his voice far, far away. He was no longer in the small living room with Arthur and that did not fail to send a shiver down his back. Quickly he analyzed the situation, the clock began banging and Alfred had a memory, something repressed he did not want to think about. Somehow an old clock was involved and again that infamous lady was involved too. Alfred had regressed to a younger part of himself; he was a child, a child who needed protection, reassurance that he was not going to be hurt by this mysterious lady. Without thinking, Arthur quickly stood up and made his way to the sofa, sitting next to the American, his hands softly reaching out to him and softly drawing him closer, until the boy was leaning on him, his body shaking with fear.

"It's okay Alfred, everything is okay. You are not going to that lady's house, you are here… Remember? I'm here, Alfred, nothing and no one can harm you." He tried to sound as reassuring as he could, softly rub the guy's arm to let him know he was there. It was impossible though; Alfred seemed to be in this semi panic attack along with his regression. He had this shaking to him that made Arthur worry. Minutes later the shaking stopped and he was quiet for a while; Arthur did not let him go, he kept him there, his hand lazily rubbing his arm in a soothing motion, his eyes looking at the opposite wall, thinking of nothing but calming Alfred as best as he could. He did not expect to hear the heartbreaking sob that came from Alfred.

Arthur froze, quickly looking down and seeing the tears flowing down his face like an endless river. Arthur tried to move, to see what was wrong, but was stopped as Alfred wrapped his arms around him and clanged onto him, almost as if he was afraid of letting him go. Arthur did not say a word. He was too shocked to say anything, although he was not at the same time, this was probably another phase of Alfred's regression. Oh, how wrong had he been…

"I don't want to deal with this anymore Arthur," the soft, cracked voice of Alfred Jones whispered, seemingly afraid of saying it, like if he said it too loud he was going to suffer through that again.

"I am tired of this… Almost every day is the same… I don't know who I am anymore." Arthur listened, he listened, clang on to every word, somehow feeling heart broken. Alfred, poor nice Alfred. All his life he'd been living in this nightmare filled world, his mind always trying to protect him from what hurt him the most. For the first time in five years Arthur felt helpless. He knew these things took time, he knew it was not easy to help people with problems as deep as this, but he still wouldn't give up.

"Alfred…" Arthur found himself whispering, his eyes closing as he hold on to the American tighter, like his embrace would make his pain go away. He sighed, his own breath shuddering at the pack feeling at his chest.

He remembered the last time he felt like this, it was a sunny afternoon and he was at Francis' house, Michelle was still in school and Francis was out getting a few groceries, so Arthur had been left alone with sweet Jeanne, Francis' wife, she was a beautiful young woman, with gentle yet strong hands and the courage of a thousand soldiers. She was Francis' whole world and she was the nicest woman Arthur had known apart from their mother. She had been sick lately, worrying Francis a whole lot, but Jeanne, always sweet and caring Jeanne, hid her emotions around her husband and child. Arthur remembered how she watched Francis go, how her smile immediately dropped and how a heavy sigh came from her lips. Arthur was a bit astonished at how tired she looked, how sad, how… not herself. He remember asking what was wrong, remembered the look on her bright greenish blue eyes. Arthur had never imagined what he heard next and how heartbroken and powerless he was at the news, he knew he wouldn't be able to help her, no one could; he remembered looking back at the way Francis had gone and the words Jeanne had told him.

"I know he's strong, but he'll still need you with him… This is all I ask from you Arthur, stay with him, for me, for Michelle… Stay with him."

Arthur blinked a few times before realizing where he was again, how he was holding Alfred, how Alfred was holding on to him, how his emotions seemed to be a wreck at the moment, and he knew he would not be able to leave Alfred. An ethic of psychologist was to never get attach to any of their patients, each and every one of them came to them to be able to talk, rant, express themselves without the pestering knowledge that they were talking to a friend or family member. That's why they were here for, to help, to give a third opinion, and to guide them to the right path of recovery. Arthur broke this law, had grown attached to this young lad. He should have noticed the first time he took the file papers of him to his house and studied them all night. He'd spend too much time looking into Alfred's history, his few progresses with other psychologist, and his brother's own tales about their younger life.

Unfortunately, Arthur could not say he regretted his attachment to him, not when Alfred was like this, desperate, scared, and asking, begging for help, for his help. Steady hands reached for the Alfred's hand, softly and firmly taking those in his own, making him look up at who they belonged to. Arthur smiled down at him; his eyes shining with a resolution and a goal that made Alfred feel the flicker of hope once again rise in him.

"I promise you, I will do all that I can to help you Alfred. I will," The Briton promised, his bright, emerald eyes staring back at blue safire ones, blue eyes of a child who was stuck in a young man's body, blue eyes of a young man stuck in a child's mind.

*Notes*
Treppaning was actually used a lot before, people thought that what caused mental diseases and headaches were demons who possessed the person and their logic was that if you make a whole in the skull, the demon will go away and the person would be cure! Don't worry, most of them survived this kind of "surgery" and is also consider one of the most ancient surgeries ever practiced in the world (whether it worked or not)

Also if you noticed, Arthur said Alfred had regressed into a child like state. Which practically means that, the mind regresses into an early stage of development to be able to deal with situations that affect the individual mentally.

Just some little fun facts, so I, again, apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I did try my best to get it done as soon as possible, but between studying, dying in homework, and packing, I couldn't find time to do it until now! Also big news, I'll soon be moving to Canada (yes Canada) and this means I will have time to write stuff again! So be expecting chapters soon for both "The Seven Personalities" and "I Promised To Come Back Alive"

And again, thank to my lovely beta sassy-gay-karkat whom edited this for me = u =

Reviews are always welcome!