He stood there, trying to pull him back.

He stood there, trying to break away.

Ready to keep.

Ready to run.

Was it a mistake to spare him? To let him prosper and move on to great achievements? To let him surpass him?

Was it a mistake to leave him? To cause him unimaginable pain for hundreds of years? To leave him alone, not caring that he was slowly dying inside?

Past events always lead to something.

Something painful.

Something marvelous.

In the end, it always leads to something. Does it not?

Alfred, Ludwig, Francis, Veneciano, Ivan, Kiku, and Matthew waited patiently in the G8 conference room, all of them sitting in silence at the table. The only missing one was Arthur, who was about 20 minutes late. "Strange, Arthur is usually the first one here. You all know how he is about being earlier," Francis remarked with a sigh. Ludwig nodded in agreement. "We should just start without him."

Alfred, who was supposed to start the meeting, nodded in agreement. Now, he had to admit, agreeing to starting without Arthur was a matter of revenge. The American thought this was the perfect way for getting back at the Englishman, taunting him about his tardiness and how he missed out on a lot of information. It sounded like a good plan to Alfred. "Well then, I would like to announce that m--"

"S-Sorry for being late! *huff* *huff*! The entire day has been a mess, and I....sorry..." Arthur burst through the door, interrupting Alfred. The brit was panting and huffing, obviously showing that he had ran to the meeting as fast as he could. "Ah, it doesn't bother us," Kiku said with a slight bow of his head. 'In fact, Arthur-san, we only just started. Please, do not worry." Arthur smiled his thanks and sat down beside Francis and Ivan (not the best seat in the room). "Wow, you look like hell," Alfred scoffed with his usual smile.

"Oh shut up, bastard," Arthur snapped.

"Whatever. I bet you were late because you were still too pissed about our conversation over the phone, right?" Alfred chuckled. Arthur turned red as the other nations eyed him. "Conversation? What juicy and desirable words did you two exchange?" Francis said with his usual smirk. Matthew frowned at Alfred, slightly irritated that the phone call was brought into this. "It was just a simple little quarrel," Matthew interrupted with a timid little smile. "N-Nothing like that..F-Francis."

"Wait, who?" Arthur asked.

"Matthew......Canada...."

"Oh! Wait...you were there!?"

Arthur had stood up out of his chair, his face bright red. Matthew blushed a little at his own outburst. "Well...yes.... Alfred told me about it and I....sorry." Arthur turned to Alfred, glaring daggers at him. "Alfred! How dare you? I can't believe you blabbed about a private conversation to the nearest person!"

"Oh relax. You're always so worked up about things, you know? Maybe its a result of being lonely," Alfred replied with his usual cocky smile. "No, actually you've always been worked up and stressed. After that French Indian war, you know, Arty? You were so stressed about money! No wonder you taxed the life out of America, which led to me kicking your butt! " This kind of statement was usual for Alfred to say. In fact, Arthur and Alfred bickered about the taxes and the Revolution constantly. However, today was different. How much anger can one person hold secretly? Not much. Like a bottle, it will soon overflow.

Burst.

Pop.

Explode.

SMACK

The single sound of palm hitting cheek echoed throughout the room, silencing everyone. Feliciano was, in fact, so scared by the sudden action that he hid behind Ludwig. "Mama mia..." the Italian whimpered.

Arthur had slapped Alfred.

Across the face.

Hard.

"Damn it, why can't you shut your bloody mouth for at least a minute about that fucking rebellion of yours!" Arthur shouted angrily. Alfred stood there, dumbstruck, his hand placed over his stinging red cheek. "Arty...you know I was just joking...." he muttered.

"Joking!? You call that joking!? Making fun of my failures, my life, me, is not funny! Do you have any fucking idea about how it hurts!?" Arthur's voice grew even louder as he clenched his fists in raise, making it seem like he was ready to hit Alfred again. "For hundreds of years, all I could think about was how stupid I was to drive you away. I was so lonely.....and fucking damn it, I lost everything trying to get you back. Everything! Colonies, power, money..... And you know what, I should have just forgotten you! You've caused me hundreds of years of pain, unbearable pain. Do you fucking now how much I missed you? I wanted you back so damn much, I spent so much time moping and crying about it! You, Alfred, are royal ass. Damn you....damn you and your country! I wish....I wish that I never raised you....that I....that I never even met you! Go to hell, you fucking yankee! I'm tired of your cruel jokes, of your taunts, and of YOU! I HATE YOU, ALFRED F. JONES!"

Arthur turned and ran, leaving them all in complete awe and silence.

"A-Arthur-san," Kiku whispered, feeling pity and sadness tug at his heart. Francis was frozen in place, his hand still over his mouth in surprise. Matthew was chewing his lip, trembling as he tried to keep the tears from flowing. Ivan just sat there, a perplexed look on his face. Feliciano was hugging Ludwig, whimpering. Alfred was a completely enveloped by shock.

He never thought about it that way.

Because of Alfred....because of Alfred, Arthur lost so much. Arthur lost his reputation, most of his money, land, and power. Alfred didn't speak, let alone see him, until 1812, when Arthur was desperately attacking him as his revenge. Arthur wasn't very, shall we say, open and fun like Alfred was. He wasn't very good at warming up to people and becoming social... He must have been alone for so long. All that pain, loneliness, and suffering....

.....was Alfred's fault.

Alfred could just picture it, in high detail. Arthur, sitting alone, crying. Sobbing. Screaming. Alone. Arthur was always alone, wasn't he? Before Alfred, he was alone. Even when he was a child, he was alone.

Alone.

The very word defined Arthur's entire life.

Why? Why didn't Arthur just tell him before? That all this time...Alfred was hurting him in almost unbearable ways? He couldn't keep the tears from falling.

America, the almighty America, was crying.

And nobody seemed to blame him.

"And that's what happened," Feliciano finished.

After the G8 meeting earlier, Feliciano rushed over to visit Romano. Antonio was visiting that day, so the North Italian had the pleasure of telling the story to an audience of two. Antonio was bawling, tears flowing like a baby's would. "T-That is so....so sad..." he sobbed.

"They're both losers, so who cares?" Romano scoffed, his lips trembling. You could obviously tell that the Southern Italian was trying to hold back a small cry or sob. "Brother, aren't you a bit sad? Ve?" Feliciano sighed, pouting slightly. Ludwig was upset about it, so why wasn't Romano? "Ve.....poor Arthur."

"See how lucky we are, Romano? We don't have those kind of relationship problems! You and I have an everlasting lo--"

"Shut it, Antonio. Or else I'll shove three tomatoes down your goddamned throat."

Arthur slammed the door behind him as he entered his house. His eyes were brimming with tears, and his cheeks were deeply flushed from crying. "S-Stupid Alfred...." he sobbed with a shaky breath. The Brit rubbed his watery eyes, continuously sobbing and crying.

"Arthur?"

"Arthur? What happened!?"

"A-Arthur....what happened to you!? You're crying!"

Multiple mystical creatures rushed over to him, worried and afraid. "I-Its....t-t-that bl-bloody git...." Arthur managed to choke out.

Something was wrong.

His head was throbbing.

His lungs didn't seem to function as he tried sucking in more air.

The room was spinning....

....so...

....fast.....

....like....

......a.....

.....merry-go-round...

His knees buckled.

Everything was darkening...but his eyes were open still.

He hit the ground, unconscious, barely breathing, and his eyes were still open.

One last fresh trail of tears flowed down his cheek.

Alfred.....

"ARTHUR!!!!!" The mystical creatures screamed.

The car ride home was filled with silence.

Matthew had to drive this time. Normally, Alfred would have laughed at the idea of Matthew driving his car, then he would push Matthew into the passenger seat as he took the wheel. But this time, Alfred was in no mood to drive. The American's eyes were still a light red color from crying, his cheeks stung from the tears he cried. His right cheek especially, from Arthur's slap.

"W-Want to g-g-grab some McDonald's?" Matthew piped up uneasily.

".....not hungry...."

That was probably the first time Matthew ever heard Alfred say that after a meeting. He was ALWAYS whining about stopping to get a hamburger after meetings. "Y-Yeah...lets just go to y-your place."

Silence.

"Will he ever forgive me?" Alfred muttered.

"What?"

"Will Arthur ever forgive me? For everything I've done to him?"

".....I really don't know, Alfred."

They arrived at Alfred's house, and got out of the car. As soon as they did, that, Matthew hugged his brother. "M-Matt....why didn't he tell me!? Did you know about it?" Alfred whimpered. Matthew, who was not used to playing the role of the steady and supportive brother, sighed. "A-Alfred. He n-never told anyone. A-Arthur just...just kept it locked away for all these years."

"I want to go see him."

"Not now."

"When!?"

"Just not now."

Now would have been a good time for Alfred, no, anyone to stop by.

Arthur was still unconscious.

And barely breathing.

....What have I done? *looks down at hands* I've created a huge mess!

Arthur: You got that right! Why the hell am i unconscious!?

Me: This happens a lot to people! Stress, built-up-rage, suppressed emotions, and a whole lot of crying, can actually lead to this!

Alfred: IGGY! FORGIVE ME! *glomps Arthur*

Me: FORGIVE ME TOO!!!! *glomps Arthur*

Arthur: *blushing* G-GET OFF OF ME!!!

Review or else Alfred and I will never let go of Arthur. P.S: We won't share him with you. *sticks out tongue*