Chapter 3, Suspicions Rise

Over the years Adrian spent with life, his own body was trained (not by choice) to wake up at exactly 6 o'clock in the morning. Sometimes it was helpful, he didn't have to waste money on a alarm clock; sometimes it was straight out torturous because he would sometimes barely sleep, only to wake up a few minutes later.

It was helpful this time, as it didn't take a bear to shake the tree to wake him up. Oh no, it was actually a lot more amusing.

"I need a fucking coffee," he muttered, climbing down a bit before jumping out of the tree, then he laughed, "Shit, I forgot I fucking hate the shit taste of coffee, frappuccino it is".

When he accidentally landed wrong and hit his funny bone, some sailor blush worthy curses were released. It was actually quite extensive, as he also knew curses from different languages.

He grumbled after his fill was released, standing and brushing off the leafs from his kept clean uniform. Another skill he learned, and when he came down to it, he can make one outfit last for a month with out having it even remotely smell. This is without changing a thing mind you.

Contemplating the amount of time it took to get down, plus the time he woke up, he assumed he had around 47 minutes to get his coffee, finish it, and get to school on his preferred time. He then proceeded to walk to the nearest Starbucks, which was exactly 1.2 miles away from his current position, around 10 minutes with his current pace. Mentally taking into account the 3.50 plus tax deduction from his luxury savings. Which he always kept in a secret pocket in his pants.

This was how his mind always was in the mornings, full of logic and science based thoughts. Like a machine. That is, until he get's something to boost himself up. (It actually was between the sugar boost or cursing for an hour that did this, the sugar boost is obviously less insulting as the previous.)

Walking out 11 minutes later, he was a more happier (and less machine in the thought process department) Adrian. Now he was more tolerating of the people he must obviously face in 'school' then as he would if he had stayed in his more logic based thinking, which was more snappy.

"That feels much better," he said to himself, throwing the empty Starbucks drink into the trash. If his internal minute counter was correct (And it always was, much to his relief and horror) it was now 6:57. The school was 2 minutes away, perfect.

"Down the yellow brick road I go," he said, walking toward the school. Humming a theme song he picked up, down the road. (Here's a bit of a hint, BBC Sherlock) Exactly two minutes later, he was there, waving to a already walking toward the school Arthur.

"Adrian, good morning," said Arthur, smiling, then he tilted his head, "You didn't go home like you said you would, did something happen?"

They did talk about Adrian going with Arthur to his house to keep the appearance but Adrian had said that he had something to take care off, besides. He only told the principal that they were cousins, not that he lived with him all the time.

"Yeah, got chased by some dogs," he admitted, and he was not going to tell him he was chased by his tormenters, but he wasn't exactly lying either.

Arthur nodded and walked in with Adrian as the gates opened, then an unpleasant voice called them.

"Hey! Eyebrows number 2!" said a distinctive French voice. An angry mark showed on both of the companions. Honestly, Adrian had enough of this bullshit.

"Va te faire foutre salaud!*" He called back smiling brightly, to make it look like he totally wasn't insulting him, because he knew there was no French speakers, nor teachers in this school. Not including dear Francis, he also knew that one Matthew Williams did, but only spoke a little.

Arthur looked at him curiously, and if that cheeky grin and angry Frenchman was anything to go by, it was definitely anything but a regular sentence in French. Which caused Arthur to smile a bit at the playful, mischievous, expression Adrian had.

"Arthur?" asked Adrian, "You alright?"

His expression was pulled to a slight frown, his eyebrows pulled upward, and a slight pout formed in his lips as he asked if his friend was alright. It was actually pretty adorable, well. In the thoughts of everyone who was watching.

Arthur laughed and smiled, "Nothing to worry about Adrian, just thinking about something".

"M'kay, not too much bad thoughts yeah?"

"Alright, alright, now come on," Arthur said, pulling along Adrian's wrist. As the guy had stopped walking when he was 'checking' up on Arthur.

With them walking to their first period, Francis and Antonio gathered.

"Tch, 'e is indeed clever," said Francis.

"Si, but Francis," said Antonio, a bit faltering, "how did he know that no one here speaks fluent French but you?"

"Oh, you are right mon ami, how did he?" said Francis, staring, a bit jealously, at the laughing Adrian and smiling Arthur as the speed walked toward first period. Most likely to get the best seat. There wasn't much they could do, yet.

On the other side Alfred looked curious, when Adrian replied to Francis' insult, for a split second. He thought he saw Adrian narrow his eyes, grit his teeth, and his hands had unconsciously he assumed clenched. Of course he saw a hint of insanity in them, and it was the same one Ivan had always had, but he felt that Adrian was slightly more dangerous. It was unnerving, when Adrian had shot down their attempts of getting down the tree last night. He looked almost, psychotic, and he didn't think that Adrian knew he was grinning insanely at the time.

Adrian however was in internal turmoil, he had let himself slip, again, he knew that somehow the facade he set up to suit Arthur's needs was cracking. He had felt his teeth clench when he replied to Francis, he let it slip that he knew that Francis was the only person who could speak French fluently in this school. First it was with Kiku and now it was with Francis, unfortunately he wasn't so quick to provide an explanation to his knowledge of several languages.

'46.2% chance that they would catch it, he thought to himself, his mind reverting to it's original thought process in order to calm himself down, 5 minutes and counting, with current pace to reach Room number 25. Approximately 20 feet length, 40 feet width, 10 feet high. Houses 35 students at maximum, currently houses 30 student. 3 windows, 3 feet from the teacher parking lot. Gated, access code 91770. 0.2 miles from nearest fire exit. Possible immediate and lethal weapons, swiss army knife in left shoe, pepper spray teacher keeps in third drawer to the right inside desk, and broken yard stick kept at the left corner of the room. Threat assessment: minimal. Possible exit strategies: 4 in current situation'.

"Adrian?"

Over his racing thoughts, he couldn't hear someone call him.

"Adrian?"

He snapped out of it and stared at the owner of the arms who were slightly shaking him, not enough to provoke his instincts thank goodness, but enough to gain his attention.

Arthur stared at him worriedly, he hadn't spoke for a minute since they arrived at the classroom, and his expression had gone blank. His grin falling and turned into a careful pokerface that he was certain even Alfred would have lost to, as he knew that he had played poker quite often. Of course, the bets were who pays for McDonald's and not money per say.

"Sorry, I'm fine. Just got lost in thought," said Adrian rather quickly, flashing a seemingly embarrassed smile. Somehow, Arthur knew it was fake, and it wasn't exactly a comforting thought, but he also knew that if he did voice his suspicion that the smile was fake. He wasn't going to get the answers he wished, or rather the truthful one. He didn't think Adrian was doing this to get at him. He saw the way his teeth clenched when he addressed Francis, that was definitely not fake. He saw the way his eyes had narrowed, definitely in anger. He had heard the bitter tone in his voice, yes it was sweetened with amusement and humor, but it was still bitter.

"Alright," he finally said, "but don't do that, you scared me git".

Adrian laughed, and if he didn't know better he would have thought that it was one of pure amusement. It wasn't, it was forced and it was well hidden.

"Don't worry about it".

Arthur did the complete opposite, without him knowing of course. His mind was trying to put together possibilities on what could have happened, Adrian was also starting to look suspiciously at Arthur.

"Oi, bastards!"

'Oh thank everything good and dear in this world for Lovino fucking Vargas,' thought Arthur in relief. Though he took a page from Adrian's book and changed relief to fondness as he addressed Lovino.

"Good morning Lovino," they both chimed, an easy smile making way to their respective faces.

Lovino hurriedly returned the greeting and but then addressed Adrian with urgency, "Bastard, the creepy bastard is after you".

"Braginsky?" stated Adrian, head tilted in slight surprise.

"Uh, who else can possibly be the creepy bastard?! You have to run, esequire subito!" Said Lovino in panic.

"That, won't be necessary," Adrian stated.

"HAVE YOU FUCKING LOST YOUR DAMN MARBLES?! THIS IS FUCKING IVAN BRAGINSKY, CREEPY BASTARD NUMBER ONE! I'M TRYING TO SAVE YOU DAMN LIFE!" Yelled Lovino, who was at lost on how sure and calm Adrian's tone was. As the only one crazy enough to stand against Ivan was Alfred.

"I really appreciate your concern Lovino, but I can handle it, there has been far more severe injuries I have been through," said Adrian, his expression had suddenly drop to a careful blank.

"Now if you don't mind you would come with me, da?"

Mechanically, Adrian got up and started walking toward Ivan, already determined on what the outcome of the 'chat' would be. Ready to take the hit as if he himself didn't take it, he might take out on Lovino or Arthur, and both had noticed the sudden change in vocabulary when Adrian spoke.

"Braginsky," said a cold voice.

A crowd had gathered both in and outside the classroom, observing the events that were transpiring, and that voiced made shivers run down their spine, Ivan included.

In the middle, calmly walking toward Ivan was a cool, composed, and bat shit enraged Arthur. Silently, an amused voice in Adrian's head had dubbed the attitude,
"Pirate Arthur".

As Arthur was two inches shorter than Ivan* it wouldn't have been that intimidating, if Arthur wasn't wearing that dark expression. Though, he was smiling, or smirking, or just smiling evilly. Either one works.

Arthur was itching for a cigarette right about now, as he used to smoke before he quit. It wasn't as bad as most, because he only used it to calm down. You know how some people think that the harder it is to make someone mad, the more fucked your going to be when you actually do get said person mad? Arthur was pretty much that person.

Adrian was confused, well. It wasn't Adrian per say, but the original, personality that hid behind many masks. Adrian was fun, protective, a bit dorky, and had a talent with comebacks and motivation. A mask, a facade, the kind of person Arthur needed the most when he first met him. That was the purpose of this particular mask. The original personality had long forgotten his own name, but he was indeed confused with Arthur's actions. Clearly, the Braginsky fellow was going to harm Arthur, the purpose of him not fighting the decision to be beaten was to take the hit. That was what he was taught, to take the hit for others, more important people. So why was Arthur stopping it?

"Protect them or die trying".

That was one of the rules he set for himself when he was living with his friends, was he wrong?

On the other hand, people were shifting from Arthur to Adrian, Arthur's hair had covered most of his face. Only his tight smirk showed from under his slightly ducked head. Adrian's expression was blank, but confused.

"Let him go Braginsky," Arthur said calmly.

"Oh, why so?"

"Because," he lifted his head, revealing a very, very, angry expression, "If you don't, I have no choice but to take action and discipline you in my own way".

Grabbing Adrian's arm slightly, not so as to hurt him, he pulled him behind himself, sitting him down. When Ivan moved to grab him back, that's when they witnessed a bit of what Arthur was capable of doing.

He swiftly moved to grab his collar, pulling him down. Kicking his legs, Arthur flipped Ivan and kept him on the floor with a powerful jab in between the shoulder blades right before he landed.

Adrian, once again blinked in surprise. Thoughts racing on why this happened, and considering actions that was available to take. Suddenly, someone stabbed him in the gut.

This caused an automatic reaction of his instincts, taking the hand of whoever held the knife, pulling it out of his gut and swiftly kneeing the perpetuator in the stomach. Forcing the wind out of the lungs of whoever had stabbed him. He pulled the knife from the grip of whoever stabbed him, and transferred to a defensive stance. Ignoring the pain of the stab wound. His eyes shifted rapidly, students turning into numbers and threat percentages in his mind.

Little did everyone know in this moment of panic, Adrian had slipped into one of his old memories.

He was in England, running away from his second foster parents, after he burned down the first groups house, he wasn't exactly keen on getting a new one. Which led him to the streets and the underworld. It wasn't that much of a bad job, dangerous yes. Though, not too bad. He got the occasional big break from one of the mafia bosses outside the U.K. mostly because the place was neutral ground due to the risk of being destroyed by the, "Queen's Guard Dog". Despite the fact that it was mostly rumor.

He had collected his what was asked of him, giving it to certain people who worked for those who hired him, he was able to get a large hooded sweater that covered his face, allowing him anonymity for his job. Eventually though, he was accepted into a group of kids, just doing what they could to get by. He became great friends with them, as the group never really revealed names, they called each other by nickname. The leader was Captain, a quite suiting nickname in his opinion.

One day in their hideout at an abandoned house, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow shifting in the trees. The windows crashed, causing his own instincts developed over years in the streets and fought the men with what was available to him. He was able to knock out 3 of the men, and killed 1, but they still managed to knock him out. In a cell, he was beaten and tortured for information pertaining to the information he collected, and who he worked for. He gave up none.

In the midst of the captors rage, he shot him in the chest and left him in the streets to die. The bullet had gone straight through. He was sure he was going to die.

Then he saw a boy, a blond scruffy blond boy with odd eyebrows and green eyes the same as his own, but lighter, less aware of the horrors of the world.

"Hey, wait. Stay still, it could get worse," he said as himself had tried to get up and away from the boy.

"What's your name?" the boy asked.

"I. I don't know really, I forgot," he admitted, years of being called his nickname made it nearly impossible to remember his own. He used it quite often.

"I suppose I'll call you Adrian then, my name's Arthur".

In that span of time, every after school, Arthur came to check on him. He said that he was in America now, he told of his friends named Francis, Gilbert, Antonio, Alfred, and so many more. He said that he would take him to meet they played pirate, one of Arthur's favorite games, and it soon grew to be his own too.

All of a sudden his friends found him again.

He went back to Britain, as a informant now. He discovered in order for his friends to find out where he was, they needed to accept the terms the British government gave them. Which led to all of them working for said government for information pertaining mafia around the world, in exchange they were left alone with a steady paycheck and training courtesy of the british government, in all kinds of things, some he didn't want to remember. As he discovered, they used him as an asset more then any of his other friends, even gave him a nickname, "The Lion's Snake". A snake inservice to the lion of which is England, and in all, the Untied Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

Then something went terribly wrong.

They were at the holding place of where they were supposed to give information on the new line the British government gave, back then he was 14. Some of the mafia from Italy had discovered that there was a massive leak in information pertaining to all the mafia collectively, that amount could cripple the freedom of the underworld. So they staged a massacre, killing all those who were in the holding place. He himself was able to hide under the car of the hired assassins, but he still saw his friends get killed, still saw their bodies dropping, and still heard the loud thumps of their bodies as some of the more insane assassins laughed.

He snuck out from under the car, growling as he knocked out all of them, fueled by hatred and a strong dose of adrenaline. In abandoned building he was sure no one would miss now, as it was their old hide out, he burned the house down. Making sure the assassins were awake at the time. Afterwords he snuck into the hospitals of those who survived and finished them off. Going back he got all the bodies and buried them using the money they gained and saved over the years. He took the dog tags they all created after they and himself got back from America, on the idea that they would put their nickname and their real name should they go back to the bright side of society. He himself had one, but he never read his real name, as he had put it in a language he does recognize, but seemed familiar. Years after, he developed what seemed to be PTSD on what happened, and trust issues. He started creating excuses and identities to bury his own self, after all, he still remembered that the assassins he killed may have had family. He forgot everything, forgot how to think like a human. He developed a calculating thought process to avoid getting close to anyone, to prevent the possibility of hurting them and his own self. He faked every single emotion, every feeling to give an illusion, until now.

He gasped from the floor, his heart beating a million times per second as he breathed rapidly, all the memories came flooding back. The spirit breaking training, the tortures, the people he had grown close to dying and haunting him in his sleep. Then he remembered the boy who had saved him on the streets.

He looked to see those pair of eyes again and whispered smiling a true smile he hadn't worn since he saw his friends die, "Captain Kirkland".

He blacked out.

A/n: Hi, yeah no. Nuh, uh, your not done yet. Keep reading.

Lovino: Good, I thought you fucking killed Adrian

Aki: It's not his real name remember?

Lovino: Yeah, but I don't fucking care. If he dies, Arthur will be sad again, and stop talking to us again

Aki: Oh please, like I'll kill off my own character. You realize that's like taking a knife and stabbing myself in the gut right? Plus, the readers will be mad...i've had stalkers before I have you know.

Lovino:...

Aki: Oh, right. Uh well. -points to the car- To the hospital!

Lovino: You better fucking drive fast idiota bella

Aki: Fuck you too good sir, now lets go shall we?

Ludwig: Finally...

Feliciano: Vee~

Adrian woke up, blinking at the lights above. Well, he wasn't exactly 'Adrian' now was he? Oh he remembered his name now, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to get close to anyone at the moment.

Sarcasm was one of the things that had past down since he buried his past, he was always sarcastic with the guys. That he remembered, so he wasn't to surprised when the first words out of his mouth were:

"Who the fuck thought it was a damn good idea to stab me in the fucking gut?!" he groaned, because his stomach hurt, and he was entitled to complain about it. Then he added, "Because I am sure as hell not going to do that again".

"I see your better now," said Arthur, lifting his eyes from his book.

"Fracking fabulous Captain, ready to set sail any moment sir," he stated, then he looked at his I.V.

"Well frack, that's why. They put morphine in my shit excuse for a blood stream, tell me Cap, who was the fucker who stabbed me?"

Deciding to comply, Arthur supplied the information he was looking for, "It was Natalia Arlovskaya, Ivan's little overly obsessed sister".

"Brother complex?"

"Pretty much sums it up".

Arthur was pretty happy, despite the situation. He had found his old friend from childhood who everyone thought was just his imaginary friend. Plus, said friend from the past wasn't faking his smiles anymore.

The nurse came in asked how Adrian was doing.

"Just fine, hurts like hell (please excuse my language) but fine all the same. Food though, that's more important, can we talk about food Miss?"

The nurse laughed and waved it off, "Call me Trick, i'll see to it that you don't get the, ah, 'crappy as shit' hospital food. I think the doctor wouldn't mind you eating a burger".

That's when the doctor walked it, female, glasses, and all around. Seemed pretty chill, the same as the nurse.

"Sup bros, call me Aki, Trick, it's your break girl. Chill, I got this. Oh, and three plain cheese burgers with fries. Coke, coke, and root beer for me. Here's a 20 and a 5, ta ta!" she said waving off the laughing nurse.

"Um, how did you know what we wanted?" asked Arthur. The doctor, Aki, winked checked off somethings on a digital pad,

"The magix bro, and who doesn't love a cheese burger from In-in-out*?"

"True that, true that," said Arthur.

"I.G, G. Y," chimed Adrian.

The doctor clicked her tongue in distaste, "I told those idiots not to give the poor boy morphine. Assholes, I strictly said to give him a 300mg, of Ibuprofen, but do they give a shit? Noooo, they think that they get every little damn thing right. Arrogant little frickle frackles".

She shook her head and turned fully on to the two boys, "Your friends are outside, and I took the liberty to sort out the naughty and the nice. Boys named Ludwig, Gilbert, and Vash are up first. Later~".

She skipped out, humming and writing somethings on that strange tablet of hers. Right as the mentioned names above walked in, all bearing some sort of get well gift. Flowers, cards, the works.

"Hey, Adrian. You alright?" asked Gilbert.

"That was quite a wound you took," commented Ludwig.

"I've gotten worse," he said shrugging, "and I am not at liberty to discuss exactly where, when, and how I sustained those said injuries".

That had raised a bit of suspicion on how the vocabulary went from teenager level to adult. Though, as he had already said, they weren't about to push it when he sent the no argument stare. It wasn't a glare, but it was pretty close to it, and it was an expression well practiced.

'A silent glare,' Arthur mused. As it even prevented Vash and Ludwig from asking any questions. He knew personally that it was hard to dodge their questions, he is still the student president after all.

"So, does anyone know why the crazy lady got away with bringing a knife?" he asked. Then thought over it and decided it would be much easier to to have them call him by real name, or at least the nickname that remembered very fondly.

"Call me..." He faltered and shook his head, "Forest, it was-is, my nickname".

He remembered that name rather fondly, it's what the captain and the boys called him back in the good old days. Mostly because he was really good at blending in with any forest area when scouting, then after his eyes. Good for the missions that involved hiding in front of the mafia hideout, and good at scarring the crap out of anyone when in a camping trip. He's done his fair share.

"Forest huh, pretty odd for a nickname," said Gilbert, who had decided to take a seat. Ludwig was the one carrying the said gifts, with the exception of Vash. Who had home made swiss chocolate, which Adrian, or not Adrian, homed in immediately.

"Vash right? Choco!" Adrian, rather childishly made grabby hands at the chocolate Vash was holding, "Gimme".

"Erm," said Vash giving the chocolate rather awkwardly, as the image itself was odd on it's own. Arthur chuckled,

"Well the doctor did say that they weren't supposed to give him morphine, blame the looniness on them".

At that moment as if sensing that she was being talked about the doctor popped her head at the door and said, "E's right, from his blood sample Mr. Forest here, he's highly sensitive to morphine".

She pulled the rest of her body in and pushed up her glasses, the messy hair tie she pulled still remaining as it is, messy. The tablet she had was tucked in a satchel.

"I don't think that's within regulation Doctor," stated Ludwig as he saw the bag.

The doctor snorted, "It's my hospital, and I do what ever the hell I want. But, to explain it to a medium normal people can understand-"

"I get very drunk with morphine," stated Adrian, eating the swiss chocolate, and the box was ripped to shreds, "I ain't got time to not know this kind of shit".

"Stole the words right from my mouth dude, whatever. Yeah, his type is extremely sensitive to morphine. Although if he does decide to beat a seasoned drinker, his liver will be a thing to be proud off. Alcohol cannot affect him, in turn morphine does enough shit that can seem to be as affective as vodka".

She stated muttering to herself again, "Remind me to develop a morphine that does not do this embarrassing bullshit".

"You realize that isn't that appropriate for this kind of atmosphere," said Ludwig.

Arthur laughed in response, " I have been here far longer than you have Ludwig, Dr. Aki has more...odd ways to deal with this kind of things. As her reputation states, but she does have a good casualty rate. So far, only 1 death has been recorded in this hospital".

"If she keeps the atmosphere light, I don't give a shit," stated Adrian, then looked at Arthur, "Been here longer than you? I don't give two shits about who they are, fucking tell me why, and who did it".

"Don't worry about it, it wasn't me on the hospital bed," said Arthur, "And your in no shape to beat anyone".

"No shape be damned, I once beat the shiz nit out of three guys with a broken hand and a bloody broken femur. Hell, I broke the laws of physics by jumping of the 11th floor of a 23rd story building and landing on my damn fucking feet with no other broken bones. I do what the fucking hell I want," he stated, a dangerous, yet challenging spark in his eyes. Something Vash recognized, from a homeless man who was defending his territory from those who was not that honorable as to leave the poor man alone.

"Yeah, he's drunk," stated the Doctor dryly, "Though my detective skills say they're true. He doesn't look like the type to flaunt his achievements".

"He isn't," agreed Arthur.

"Fucking sweet, this is the best chocolate i've ever had, ain't none of that cheap shit," mumbled Adrian, who had an very rough gangster accent going on.

"Well, holy fucking shit, the kid has a bendy accent," the doctor mumbled.

"Bendy accent?" asked Arthur.

"It's my little term for people who are able to change their accent to whatever the hell they fell like. Normally you would see signs of these in undercover veterans- oh look, he's asleep".

"Vait, undercover?! He's too young isn't he?" asked Ludwig.

"It's certainly not beneath the government, or even any government for that matter. Sometimes too much patriotism will blind even the humblest of men to do terrible things. When blinded by something like that, it consumes them to the point where they won't even realize that they were doing such things. They'll just stick to the fact that they were doing this for a greater and seemingly, morally correct purpose," she shrugged as she said this, "Some people just loose their way, it's just that ridiculously simple rule of reality".

"You sound like you speak from experience".

She shrugged again, "Not really, I just know that life isn't always a fairy tail".

Arthur snorted in agreement, "Isn't that true".

The three guests were starting feel awkward in the said conversation, as they had decided to stay quiet during the conversation. Also the tone Arthur used was, awkward for them at most. Then a groan rang through the room.

"Those complete assholes," Adrian groaned, he put a hand on his head seemingly to aid a headache, "Fucking shit, I feel as if I got a damn hangover. I thought it was underlined on my medical file, 'extremely sensitive to all forms of morphine, causes affects similar to being affected by alcoholic beverages. As well as similar after affects'. Bloody fucking hell, do they read? I could have sworn I wrote the damn note".

"Well yeah, some of my employes are sort of idiots," she admitted, "More importantly, how exactly are you awake?"

"Liquids like that usually don't stay in my system for very long, no idea why. However, I do need to go to the bathroom".

Swiftly, he proceeded to maneuver himself off the bed, managing to drag himself to the bathroom. Arthur patiently waiting behind him, because he wasn't going to be able to convince him otherwise, and he needed to make sure the stubborn ass didn't tear the stitches of his wound. Also so he can laugh if the guy falls and doesn't sustain any serious damage, unless you counted the ego.

However, outside the doctor mumbled to herself, "Now I wonder why he said medical files...he doesn't have any...". She shook her head and started walking out, once again mumbling to herself, "Now where have I seen the kid- OOF WHAT THE SHIT?!"

Adrian was just walking out from using the bathroom (and no, he did not slip and fall on his ass) just as the doc yelped and raised a questioning eyebrow at the sudden yell, and what followed it.

"You bunch of assholes, has anyone ever taught you to damn knock?! Crazy ass mother fuckers, what the actual fuck," she grumbled angrily, dusting off her coat and glaring at the people who fell down the door. 'It appears they were listening in', Adrian thought as he looked at the people the doctor was sending a venomous glare. It was three people, one with brown hair, one with fiery red hair, and finally one with with a more orange looking hair. He tilted his head to the right and asked,

"Who the hell are you?"

"Bloody hell, Sean? Allistor? Dylan?"

"Eh?"

Adrian looked between the Arthur, and the brothers (now that they were actually looking up so he could see their faces) it seems they were on fairly good terms than before, cause no punches, or curses were being passed around. Till Adrian looked at Allistor much closely,

"Hey! It's the drunk Scotsman from before!"

"The fuck?"

"Uh, never mind," he said, his memory was almost always accurate (there are those very rare times) and he didn't want the man to know anymore then he does now.

"Well fucking shit, now that we're all find and dandy let's get the stabbed patient back to bed yes?" said the Doctor, huffing and guiding said patient back to the bed. Which wasn't pleasant because the ibuprofen didn't work until a few minutes after he drank it, and he wasn't until he was in bed. Needless to say Adrian was cussing more then the brothers do on a weekly basis, and I don't need to tell just how much that is.

When the talk began Adrian went to sleep and the doctor turned and spoke with authority that even Natalia would even obey, and that was when the order was not to follow her brother around,

"Alright everyone get the fuck out, Mr. Arthur Kirkland here is the only one allowed here, the guy carried him here in the first place, so i'm gonna say this once more. Get the fuck out, the rest of you, get the fuck out of my damn hospital and come back tomorrow, or i'll kick your asses out of here myself".

Needless to say they were chased with a scalpel until they listened; especially when she threatened to castrate anyone who was hanging within a 7 mile radius of the building, and the promise of the scalpel not being clean when it happened. All with an evil glint in her eye. Which led to the laughter of Nurse Trick, and the rest of the staff.

What a bat shit crazy hospital.

A/n: Hey, spitted out the third chapter, right before we're going on the trip. Sorry (not) if I scared you with the stabbing. So yeah, gonna work on the fourth next, as I am on the trip. I also based the brothers description on a picture I had saved...sorry, I forgot to save the link but it's the one with the chibi british isles. So yeah, have a good day/night!

-whispers- Also Hetalia and most of the characters here are not owned by me, Only Adrian, my self Dr. Aki, belong to me. Nurse Trick belongs to herself, and I also own the fanfiction. Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, don't count. (Cause honestly I can't possibly own those handsome men can I?)

*I got this when I typed French insults on google, yahoo answers came up and I got together: Kiss my ass bastard!

*England/Arthur is 5,9 and Russia/Ivan is 5,11 (5,11.6 to be accurate) I got this from the Hetalia wiki.

*In-in-out is a fast food burger joint, mostly like a traditional burger stand. As far as I know, it's mostly only in California (where I live) and there's one in Nevada, Las Vegas. In my personal opinion, it's better and a bit cheaper then McDonald's. I've seen them cook their stuff, and I can say for a fact the french fries are fresh, because they cut it right there. Just a little fun fact, so if you don't live in California, I highly recommend you try this place out, if you visit. Well, if you like burgers and fries for that matter.

Also! There was a reviewer named "Guest" dated July 6 who asked on the translation on the first chapter when Arthur switches accents. Just to say, that was a norfolk accent, I used it on my first story too, and it says "Will you all sit your asses down quietly?!" Or something like that, it's been a rather long time since that one. But yeah, hope it helps!.