What is this, I don't even... Thanks for reviewing, following and favourite-ing this story! I wanted to have memory loss at first, but it seems to be that it would be too cliche, I wasn't expecting this either... I read too many Scotland England brotherly fics so this chappy ain't coming out too well this time. Sorry about late update by the way.

"Moshi moshi, this is Japan."

"Bonjour, this iz France."

"Guten arbend, this is Germany speaking."

"Ni hao, France. This is early, aru."

"Buenas noches, Francis!"

After Francis had told them the terrible news, and warned them to best not tell anyone else yet, their tired and cheerful voices changed into a serious one.

"What?!" They all exclaimed in Francis' ear, even Spain had actually shown concern to his enemy since his pirate days. After a long silence, they decided they would come over by tomorrow. Until then, Francis planned to stay here in case Arthur does wake up.

He didn't even dared to put his eyes off Arthur, in case Arthur does stir even the slightest bit. And there he sat for hours, and noticed the sky turning darker. He then moved his stiff legs and walked over to the switch to switch on the lights, remembering to make it dim if Arthur happens to wake up.

Which he sincerely hoped so. By now, he had missed the constant bickering and noise in the large manor. He wondered how did Arthur stand the emptiness and lack of life in the huge place, then again, that was probably why he was lying motionless on the bed now. The old door creaked and Francis snapped his head to the direction of the noise.

"Francis..." It was Alfred and Matthew, both of them seemed to have been crying for some time, but their faces was wiped dry before coming into the room. Alfred turned his head and spotted a white paper on the study table. Alfred moved away from his twin brother to pick it up. There was only a very simple sentence on the paper.

It was nobody's but my fault alone.

Why had Arthur think like that? Surely he had already gotten over the day that America declared independence. Or maybe not... Matthew took a peek at the paper and frowned, but he said nothing to his American brother.

"Igg- Arthur... what should we do?" The American refused to look at that direction anymore.

"The other nations are coming soon, though I didn't call Russia, if that iz what you were going to worry about." Francis answered softly, slightly paused in his words at times, and continued. "We'll see when they come. They'll reach by tomorrow..."

Then came the sound of blankets shuffling. Three pairs of eyes turned towards the noise and watched keenly. No one dared to move or breathe at all.

Then Arthur suddenly sucked in a huge breath, coughed then breathed in again. His pale eyelids slowly fluttered and dull green eyes slowly revealed itselves. It was not like the movies, as he had not jerked up from the bed and was lively once again. The process was painfully slow for the other three men. Then Arthur's eyes turned towards the trio, and its eyelid drooped again. Alfred was first to react to this.

"Arthur!" He shouted and hugged the blonde tightly. Canada and France then snapped back to reality. They also ran towards the blonde and smiled as they tackled him.

"Alfred...? Let go..."

"No way, dude!" America claimed at first, until he could hear the raspy breathing from the smaller man. He immediately let go and looked at Arthur carefully. His face was a sickly pale look and Alfred had a feeling that there was still something wrong even if he had woken up from a certain grave.

"Arthur?" The Canadian softly inquired, extremely happy but also sensed that there was something wrong going on. Francis frowned and tried to think back to what he had remembered from the old book. As much as he tried to, he couldn't.

Wait, he remembered something else instead. Arthur was a keen reader and he had loved to collect many old books, which indicated there might be a chance that he had the book in his library. Without further delay, Francis ran towards the direction of the library, leaving the two brothers to stare, confused.

"It iz not here. Not here. Not here..." Francis mumbled as he flicked through the section where the handwritten books were kept. Damn it, how did Arthur managed to read at such dim lit conditions? It was a wonder he hadn't worn any glasses yet.

"Found it!" A smile slowly made its way to Francis' face, as he flicked through the pages to look for the specific paragraph. As if on cue, the cold wind blew from outside through the window to turn the yellowed pages and the gentle moonlight casted itself on a section of the book, making Francis to look over.

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 have a mortal body and is as fragile as human bodies, or much more. The mortal wounds would take a longer time to heal and serious wounds would cause the personification to cease to exist.'

So his dear Arthur was as fragile as any human?! He didn't want Arthur to be like Jeanne d'Arc, as she was so fragile but brave. What if some other nations decided to end Arthur once and for all? He knew a Russian that was very glad to be doing that.

"Francis...? What are you holding there? Is that the book that you told me so?" Matthew came into view and he worked out the situation rather quickly, as he was an intelligent person.

Francis nodded and he passed the book to his ex-colony. Matthew started reading before gasping in the process. Surely this was wrong? A personification of a nation was suppose to be unlike any other mortal beings. Yet a simple hug from Alfred had left Arthur to gasp for air earlier.

Cough. Cough. Cough. A string of continuous coughs were heard across the hallway and the duo could hear Alfred trying to comfort the Englishmen, but the sound continued. It sounded like someone was dying and Matthew didn't like it at all. He sped towards the room once again, almost losing his way in the large manor.

And he found the cause of the coughing. The window in his bedroom was slightly open and the harsh freezing wind was blowing into the room. It was just a slight cold but it seems that Arthur was more sensitive to usual, his body doubling over from the loud coughing. Francis returned to the room with a hot cup of tea, which he had conveniently found the directions of making tea in the kitchen.

For once, the stubborn man did not argued or questioned Francis, only to sip the hot liquid greedily, soothing his raw throat. After a long silence, Alfred lifted his eyebrows and stared at Matthew, wanting a detailed explanation for all this. Matthew dragged him aside and whispered into his ears what he interpreted from the paragraph earlier, only to have Alfred suddenly shouted in his ears.

"What?!" The poor Canadian covered his ears miserably, it was terribly loud.

"Oh my god, we gotta keep Arthur real safe! What if that creepy Russia comes along?!" Alfred attempted to whisper but his loud voice didn't help at all. Francis looked up this time and gave the brothers a warning glare before taking away the cup to wash. Matthew looked at Arthur again, his face trying to hide sorrow.

It wasn't just Arthur having a mortal body that scared him. It was the thinking and actions of Arthur that scares him. After what he had done earlier, Matthew was afraid he might do the same again.

And this time with a mortal body, Matthew is afraid that there wasn't a revive button anymore.