Chapter Two

Uhh... America began to stir. I-I can't see anything... Even as he opened his eyes, everything was still dark. Not that it mattered; his head was still immobile. There was one thing missing in the situation, however, and it was that terrible smell. America still couldn't figure out what it could have been, but he was happy that it no longer lingered in the air.

Alfred tried to turn on his side, but something still had him strapped into what ever he was lying on. He attempted to move his feet, but nothing had changed there, either. America sighed out of defeat and laid there, still groggy from the anesthetic.

America listened to a slight buzzing that sounded throughout the unknown area. He didn't understand where it could be coming from, because the only thing he could tie it to was fluorescent lights and it was dark. He couldn't see anything.

Alfred pondered the oddity as he moved his hand up to scratch an itch on his face. Wait... Alfred thought. My hands are free? He moved his arms put to his side to confirm what he hadn't known before. Am I really that stupid to not notice this?

Alfred inched his fingers up his face, and as he inched closer to his eyes, he felt something that felt like cloth. Oh? And what is this? He tore the cloth from his face and instantly shielded his eyes again. The light from the fluorescent blinded his unadjusted eyes, and as the became adjusted, he slowly moved his hands from his eyes.

So, I'm in a room of some sort... And it seems to be small. Alfred wasn't sure how large the room had been to this point, but it was obvious now as he saw how far the lights stretched.

I don't remember having a blindfold on before... Maybe it really was dark at first and they had just placed it on me after they knocked me out. America's free hand wandered to the leather strap that restricted his head from movement. He felt around until he found a buckle. He undid the strap and moved his head side to side, relieving the stress that had been put into his neck.

Ah... That's better. And now I can get a better look around. America looked to his left and felt instant deja vu. Hey... This looks a lot like a doctors office! And it did. There was a counter with jars of tongue compressors and cotton balls, a stethoscope and other medical tools sitting upon it. Above the counter was a series of cabinets that probably held more medical supplies, as well. A few feet in front of him was a metal tray that had syringes and vials placed about it. And inside the trash can beside the tray was bloody gauze that Alfred assumed was from his hand. He now looked at his hand and noted that they must have replaced the soiled gauze.

Alfred let his hands wander to the strap around his waist and he unbuckled that, as well. He sat up and twisted his back until he heard his joints popped. As he twisted it the other way, he noticed a clipboard that sat beside the right side of his bed on a small wooden table.

Curious, he picked it up and analysed the paper clipped to it. Most of it were terms he didn't understand, but assumed to be medicinal prescriptions, but at the bottom was a note jotted down in a neat hand writing that he recognised to be Matty's.

Notes:

I really am surprised to see Alfred here. I would have expected him to be smart enough to escape the tortuous hands of.. Nevermind. That isn't important. This is going to be really hard for me, but I can't go against his wishes... Unless I want to end up like the rest. I know he is going to take a lot of work, but I'm sure we here at the Russo Chinese Mental Hospital will be able to get the desired effect out of him... But I know before we make him insane, we must make him believe he is already insane...

"... R-Russo Chinese Mental Hospital?" So that's where he was. Did that mean he was insane? But that last bit in the note must have meant he wasn't, right? America barely had the time to piece everything together before he heard footsteps coming in the direction of his room.

America didn't even bother to make himself the way he was. Surely if they had unstrapped his arms, they wanted him to do something. He just sat the clipboard back in its place on the small table and waited for the footsteps to reach his door.

As he expected, they stopped before his room and the door began to open. "Listen, I know what he said, but I just have to drag this one out a bit far- Oh! You're awake. Very good." Canada ended his conversation with another person dressed in white as soon as he noticed America's upright form.

"Yeah... I'm awake... Matty, what's-"

"Hush, Alfred. Tell me, how're you feeling."

America looked at him quizically and answered, "Uhm... I feel fine. Except I'm hungry."

"Aha~ Yes, he feels fine," said Canada to the small female. "America, could you unstrap your feet and turn towards the metal tray for me? I need to give you a dose of ginkgo biloba. It's a vitamin that promotes energy and mental focus, which is always nice to have after being injected with an Anesthetic."needle

America did as he told, somewhat trustworthy of his brother. He saw what the note said, but he doesn't think he wants to hurt him.

"Very good. I'm glad you trust me, Alfred," Canada smiled. He moved to the tray and picked up a syringe, filling it with a clear liquid from a small vial. "I was afraid you would fight me. I just want to help~"

Canada moved towards America with the syringe and motioned for him to give him his arm. America placed the back of his hand into Canada's and watched as the needle disappeared into his vein.

"There you go. You should be feeling more energized here soon." Canada patted his wrist as he placed a band aid on the area the needle had pierced.

"Yeah... Okay," America moved his hand around and watched the band aid flex and contract. "Thanks. But really, Matty, what's going on? I don't remember much of anything except being carried in here by two brutes."

"Aha~ I'm sorry about that, but you really put up a fight," Canada laughed. "I'm sorry, Alfred, but you're sick... And I'm here to make you feel better." The sweet smile America knew so well lit up Canada's face, and he slowly lost any weariness he had left. At least for now, he would trust him.

"Well, I really feel fine-"

"Oh, silly Alfred. Not physically sick. You're mentally sick. You went a little crazy a couple days ago, and were sent here."

"I... Went crazy? I'm sorry, I don't remember-"

"That's because you took a pretty nasty fall and hit your head pretty hard. I'm surprised all that did was make you forget the days before yesterday. It really could have hurt you badly, Alfred, and I'm glad the only injury you really have is your hand!" Canada laughed as he held the bandaged hand in his own.

"Hey, yeah! What did happen to my hand?"

"Oh, that's not important, Alfred. I would really like to give you a tour of the building. This is your personal doctor's office. I would like to show you the cafeteria, since you are hungry. And then you can go to your room and rest. Would you like that?"

America thought it was odd how confident Canada seemed, but was equally glad that he finally found that side of himself. He smiled. "Of course, Matty. If I'm gunna have to stay here, I should know where I'm staying, right?"

"Exactly. Come on~" Canada took America's uninjured hand and made him stand up. "Melissa, lead the way out the door~" The woman who Canada had come here with left and Canada looked up at America.

"Let's go eat, eh? You like pancakes, right?" They left the room as America nodded his head in reply.