A/N: Oops, hope you guys didn't forget about me. Sorry for getting this out so late, but things have been busy around here. Fun fact: Newt Gingrich came to my school today. How about that? Anyways, I was so amazed by the number of reviews for the last chapter! We've hit over 50, folks! :D Thank you to everyone who's read this, favorited, alerted, reviewed- you're all amazing! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Just a heads up, it may be a litttle bothersome to some people, and I'm sorry if I didn't portray this exactly as it would be in real life. Just try to imagine what Arthur and Alfred are going through at the moment, okay? Enjoy!

"Oh my god," Arthur whispered, eyes widening. He paled and clutched the steering wheel with one hand, his phone in the other. "Oh, my fucking god."

A car honked behind him, but Arthur hardly heard it. Not even bothering to check if it was safe, he turned into another street and quickly sped up. Only one thing mattered: he needed to get to Alfred as quickly as possible.

Dialing his friend's number into his phone, he pressed it to his ear, waiting as it went straight to voicemail.

"God damn it, Alfred!" He threw the phone on the seat and stepped harder on the gas pedal. He wasn't far from Alfred's house, but he wasn't sure how much time he had left, if any. "This must be a joke," he tried to laugh, but it came out as a whimper instead.

Maybe he was just overreacting.

But something had been wrong with Alfred lately, and now he was pretty sure what it was.

At long last, the house came into view, and once he parked, Arthur wasted no time in jumping out the car and running to the front door.

Locked.

He cursed, and thought for a moment, then ran to their garage. He punched in the code and the door started to open, emitting a loud groaning noise. Luckily, he still remembered the code Alfred's mother had given him a few years ago, and luckily, they hadn't changed it.

Arthur dashed up the stairs, noticing all the lights were off. He didn't pause to turn them on, but instead burst into Alfred's room.

What he saw almost made him faint.

Blood streamed from Alfred's arms onto the floor, where pills of various sizes and colors were scattered around. Alfred looked up, face full of surprise, and tears running down his face.

"Arthur-"
"Alfred, what the hell have you done?" Arthur nearly shrieked. "What- what the hell is this? Oh my god! Did you-"
"Arthur, it's too late. I've already taken the pills," Alfred said quietly.

"No! Alfred, what? No, it's not too late! Throw them up, you can still do it!"
Alfred shook his head sadly, and it took all his self-restraint to keep Arthur from crying.

"There's no point," Alfred said sadly, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "No one would care whether or not I lived." Arthur let out a shaky sob and ran over to his friend, pulling him into a big hug and squeezing him so tightly he heard Alfred gasp.

"That's not true and you know it!" Arthur protested.

"Don't lie, Arthur. You and I both know it. No one cares about me anymore. I'm not important. I'm just a burden. I make everyone's life miserable."

"Alfred-"

"I'm annoying. I was too conceited. I thought I was better than everyone. I was wrong."

"Alfred," he said, taking his friend's face between his hands. "Listen to me, listen to me right now. That's not true at all. So many people would care if you died right now, believe me. Please, Alfred, just… Come on, we need to go to the bathroom."

"It's all an act," Alfred whispered, wiping the tears from his eyes. "A big act that's been going on forever. It's a game. And they've won."

"The game's not over yet," Arthur whispered, looking at Alfred straight in the eye. "They haven't won yet. There's still time to show them you're better than what they want you to be."

Alfred let out a shaky sob and pulled Arthur to him again, clutching his shirt as he shook violently.

"Arthur," Alfred, whispered, "I don't feel good." And he ran out of the bedroom.

Arthur sunk down on Alfred's bed, burying his face in his hands. His shirt and arms were spotted with blood, and he felt the tears really start to flow.

Shaking his head, he got up and forced himself to walk to the bathroom, bracing himself for whatever he might find.

What he did see surprised him.

Alfred was on the floor, holding his knees tightly to his body, shaking and sobbing.

Arthur sank down next to him, and pulled the other boy into a hug, wrapping his arms firmly around Alfred. He rubbed his friend's hair as Alfred sobbed and grasped the fabric of Arthur's shirt in his hands once more.

"I'm sorry," Alfred whispered between sobs. "I'm so sorry."
"Shh," Arthur said, rubbing his friend's back. He wasn't sure what to say; he was still in shock.

"I-I'm sorry I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for being so worthless and annoying and bothering you all the time, but I just wanted you to n-notice me," he hiccupped. "You've always been my best friend, and I was s-scared you'd leave me, t-too."

Arthur's eyes widened and he froze. That explained everything.

"Alfred, you've always been my best friend, and always will be. Nothing's going to change that," he whispered.

"Hey, Arthur?" Alfred said, looking at Arthur with misty eyes.

"What is it?"

"I'm feeling kind of… sleepy," he said, before he fainted.

"Oh shit, oh, fuck," Arthur breathed, searching for his phone in his pocket. Mentally kicking himself for leaving it in the car, he dashed to Alfred's parents' room, and picked up the phone on the nightstand, immediately dialing 911.

"I need an ambulance down here," he said quickly. "My friend just swallowed a bunch of pills- what? No, I think he threw them up, but he just passed out… Yes, please just hurry, okay?" He hung up the phone, hurrying back to Alfred. He noticed that both of their shirts were stained red, and swore. Going into Matthew's room (he didn't want to go back in to Alfred's room), he pulled out two clean shirts from the closet. Disposing of his own dirty one and changing, he brought the second shirt to Alfred, who was still out cold. Carefully, he removed Alfred's blood-soaked shirt and gingerly tugged the new one on, being careful of his still bleeding arms.

Moments later, he heard the sound of a siren, getting louder and louder, until it was right outside the house. Arthur ran downstairs to let them in, and several men ran into the house carrying a stretcher. Arthur led the way upstairs, showing them where his friend was. They were quick and pulled him on the stretcher, carrying him downstairs carefully.

One man stayed behind, and Arthur knew he would have questions.

"Boy, what happened here?"

"Please, sir, he's in trouble- it's bad, he needs to get to the hospital now, and I have to go with him. I'll answer all your questions, I promise, but please, can we go to the hospital first?"

The man's face softened.

"Alright," he said, and Arthur sighed in relief. "I don't know exactly what happened here, but I'm sure it's been hard on you. Hurry up and get downstairs so they don't leave without you."

'Thank you, sir, thank you so much," Arthur said, dashing down the stairs to make it to the ambulance before it left.

As Arthur hopped in, one of the men in the vehicle shut the door behind him, and they ambulance started to pick up speed.

Arthur could only let out a shaky breath as he finally took in the scene in front of him: Alfred could die any minute, and there was nothing he could do. All along, he hadn't realized that he had all been a part of this big game.