I'm back and this is posted bit earlier since I'm kinda busy this weekend... Yes, I'm a weekly updater :D I need reviews! I eat them for a living :DD Review please -bows-

EverlastingMemories: I hope so too...

American50Amber: Indeed! I think this chapter is rather depressing for the moment, but rest assure. I would actually start crying if he died...

The sun finally reached its peak as the hands of the clock touched the number 12. It was very quiet, something Alfred could never get used to. He liked the noise that came from the arguments between Arthur and him. Yet now he was just holding gently onto Arthur's cold hands.

Lifeless. He was dead. Arthur Kirkland was dead.

Trembling, he reached the phone to call Francis again. Almost dropping the phone, his hands hit the speed dial. He prayed every minute that the monotone sound would stop and be replaced by Francis' voice. Oh right, he had to call his Canadian brother too, he was sure Matthew would pick up his phone no matter what time.

Funny, he didn't feel a bit excited about his birthday party anymore. His thoughts only focusing on the cold body that didn't have a heartbeat laid on the bed in front of him.

"Alfred!" The french nation's voice rang into his ears and interrupted his train of thoughts.

"D-Dude?" There was no reply from Arthur, he just continued to close his eyes and not breath. Alfred's blue eyes widened as he frantically tried to pump air into the smaller man's lungs by performing CPR. Arthur had made him learn it when he was younger, a year before he declared independance.

He had to stop thinking back and focus on his current task now. After god knows how long, he finally realised that it was hopeless to use that life saving skill anymore. He fell back onto the floor, as realisation hit him hard. If only he could have arrived earlier, he could have saved him.

His phone rang. He hadn't notice at first but after it a few moments, his ears finally registered the American national anthem. He slid his phone out from his pocket and answered.

"Bonjour, Amerique! Are you free now? We need to talk a bit. It's about Arthur." Francis' voice sounded through the speaker of his iPhone. After minutes without a reply, Francis pulled away from his phone to check if Alfred had answered at all. It wasn't like the American to be quiet.

"Amerique? ...Alfred? Is there something wrong?" Francis asked, slightly worried that something had happened to the younger nation.

"F-Francis. A-Arthur ain't breathing." Alfred cursed his trembling voice, it was the wrong time to panic now. Arthur will surely sneer at him now. No stop, Arthur is not here. No! He meant, Arthur isn't mentally here. No, wait...

Alfred was confused. Confused and panicking. His head was swarming with truth that he wanted to push out and deny everything. Arthur was just there, and he wasn't breathing. God...

"Arthur is not- What?! What happened?!" Francis demanded with a stern voice.

"I-I came to his house. I mean, I was gonna convince him to join my party this year. Yea. I'm here to convince him." Alfred took a deep breath, and his mind blanked out. "Then he was just lying there. I thought he was sleeping but when I went over, he wasn't breathing at all. I tried CPR, it just didn't work! Oh god... Francis, please, just come?"

Francis stopped in his tracks. That sarcastic, ex-delinquent, self-proclaimed gentleman England was... gone? At the very last minute, Francis had actually found himself unable to say that Arthur Kirkland was dead. Suddenly, he remembered that they were nations and he didn't know what... suicide of a nation could do to a country.

Grabbing the nearby remote control, he turned on his TV. There wasn't any broadcast that told them the end of England or in this case, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. In fact, the world seemed to be the same as ever.

Remembering that he had a distressed nation on the phone, he quickly replied back.

"Alfred, hang on. I'm coming over right now. I'll be there as soon as possible... I think it's best to tell your brother." He advised and Alfred unconsciously nodded his head as if the man was here. Then he dropped his phone after Francis ended the call, and he just sat there, staring at Arthur.

All Alfred wanted for Arthur to do was for him to just open his forest green eyes once more. He could vaguely remember the smile Arthur had shown him when he gave him his present yesterday. For once, Alfred could actually see the pain and sadness hidden behind the smile. He would say that he preferred the smile Arthur used to show when Alfred was younger. It was happy and cheerful.

"Arthur... Ahaha... I think I'm out of my mind, dude. I actually called you by your full name. I saw you smiling yesterday, you know. I like your smile that you have when I was younger. I don't like this one. I don't want it to be your... last one." Alfred mumbled, hoping sincerely that he would just jerk up from the bed, and everything would be just fine.

But it wasn'tfine.

Alfred buried his face in his gloved hands and tried to calm himself. He had failed in his role of being a hero because he couldn't even save his brother. The brother that he had secretly still respected even after his independence.

'What's the use of a hero if he can't even save someone he loved...' Alfred could feel something wet trailing down his face. It took him quite a while before noticing that it was his salty tears trailing down.

Did Arthur felt like that too?

Knock knock knock. The impatient sounds of hand contacting the wooden door could be heard downstairs. The strong knockings swung the door opened immediately. Cursing that the careless American had actually left the door unlocked, he ran up the old stairs.

And saw the Alfred on the ground.

He ran over and checked Alfred's breathing too, for he feared the worst. To his relief, Alfred had only just fell asleep from the shock and exhaustion. There were tears that still ran from his eyes even when he was asleep. The french nation sighed and gently patted his head before going over to the cold body of Arthur Kirkland.

It was weird, to see the nation so still. It was curious, that the country England was still fine but its personification was already cold. Perhaps... he would stay dead for just a little while? There were still many healthy Britons and they were still moving like they should be.

'The personification of a nation doesn't die unless they were no longer recognised by its own citizens. If the personification suffers from great wounds and appear dead, they would come back to life after a while, but it seems that the the personification would...'

Francis suddenly remembered a paragraph from an old book when he was younger. Yet it seems that he could not remember what the last few words were supposed to be. He wished that his memory was right and Arthur would wake up soon, but he dared not put his hopes too high.

Knock knock. New knocking sounds came from downstairs again since Francis had actually remembered to lock the door. He was in no interest to be facing anyone that could be a threat to Arthur. Yes, they were enemies, but he still respected the english nation to some degree.

"France?" A muffled and quiet sound came behind the door. Francis immediately recognised the owner of the voice, it was Matthew. Unlike all other countries, he can differentiate the Canadian from his twin brother. He rushed downstairs and opened the door, leading the quiet nation upstairs.

Matthew gasped quietly when he saw Arthur. He frantically looked at Francis, wanting a sign that his older brother that had partly raised him was not lying there and it was someone else. France sadly shook his head. He then leaned forward Matthew's ear.

"Mathieu, there's something I remembered but it's for the best that you don't tell Amerique." He then told him the phrase from an old book he had recalled earlier. He had also told him he couldn't remember the last few words and it is best to not get their hopes too high.

"Okay... I'll... I'll bring Alfred to the guest room first." The gentle Canadian replied softly before carrying Alfred with his ridiculous strength. It seems that the twins had shared the same power of strength. Francis nodded, understanding the scene is rather harsh for both of them. It was harsh on him too, after all, he had spent centuries with him.

"Guess I will just sit here until he wakes up... I wonder if I should tell the other nations?" Francis pondered for quite a while, as he had managed to keep himself serious for the two younger nations.

"I think I should at least tell the more serious nations about Arthur." Francis spoke to himself as he pulled out his phone.