Okay, so this is my first Hetalia fanfic. Hope you like it! ^J^
"Well, what's wrong with him then?"
The doctor sighed, not particularly enjoying the presence of the man in front of him. The pair stood in a long white tiled hallway that smelled strongly of cleaning materials. The doctor lifted up his clipboard bearing his most recent patient's charts and adjusted his thick glasses on his sharp nose.
"As you know, Mr. Jones, we haven't had much time to observe him since he was brought in, but from what we can tell, he's a very disturbed individual."
"Plenty of people are disturbed, but that doesn't mean they belong in here!" Alfred replied loudly.
The doctor winced at the man's volume.
"No, but when you're a paranoid schizophrenic with a-"
"I don't speak quack," Alfred interrupted rudely. "I got the paranoid bit."
God, he hated politicans. The man was apparently some sort of representative for America, but how he had gotten such a high status was beyond the doctor. He was arrogant and as dumb as a box of nails.
"It means, Mr. Jones, that isn't only paranoid, but he hears voices in his head and... well, to be frank, he sees things that aren't there. He believes that fairies, unicorns and other fictional creatures are real and that he, himself can perform magic."
The doctor lifted his self important gaze from the charts to gauge the American's reaction to the news. There wasn't much of one. The blond young man's already narrowed eyes narrowed even further and his expression became hard as he looked towards the door to their side. It was behind there that the object of their discussion was being held. Other than that there was nothing. No denial, no accusations, nor concern for his coworker.
"I'm surprised you didn't notice earlier, quite honestly," the doctor replied superciliously.
Alfred F. Jones snorted. "Oh, most of us knew he was a bit off, it didn't really worry us. But Arthur Kirkland was a good man, craziness and all. At least before he snapped anyway," his tone suddenly changed from half amused to angry.
"Hm," was the doctor's curt reply. There was a brief pause and then Alfred gave a loud sigh.
"Well! Since you can't tell me anything useful, I'll leave him to you. Make sure he gets what he deserves." he said looking angry and defeated.
The doctor blinked. There had been something sinister in the way had said that. "Excuse me?"
Alfred remained silent while the doctor just continued to gawk at the younger man. What was he insinuating? And this person was supposed to be a political representative! It was more than a little worrisome. Jones noted the disapproving look and gave a little chuckle as he turned away on his heel.
"Keep me posted."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
England groaned long and low. He was exhausted. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so lethargic. And stiff. He felt like he was in the middle of the worst hangover in history. But he hadn't been drinking. Had he? The country groaned again as he realized he was having trouble concentrating. A look at his surroundings would clear things up.
England opened his heavy eyelids to a blinding white glare and he shut them immediately with a hiss of pain. Why wouldn't the light just shut up? Momentarily, he tried again, more slowly this time and peeking only through his fingers until his eyes were better adjusted, but what he saw was less than encouraging. The United Kingdom of Great Britian and Northen Ireland lay on his stomach in a small white padded room.
"What?" he questioned as he took in the small unfurnished room with growing unease. The whole room was no more than four meters by three and was completely padded in white semi-cushiony material, except for one wall where a small glass window was visible and where, he realized, the door must be. England felt his heart thumping hard in his chest and he quickly –nervously- got to his feet. He edged to the door, confusion growing with every ragged breath. He peeked through the window but couldn't see much of anything. "Great," he muttered. "How the hell did I end up here?"
"How do you think you got here Arthur?"
Because England was sure he'd been alone when he'd woken, the sound of another voice startled him greatly. He whirled around, hands flying up to protect him from whatever threat was forthcoming and stumbled back into the padded door. It had been quite an overreaction, more like something Italy was likely to do, England knew even as his back hit the cushiony barrier, but he was feeling unusually jumpy.
'I really am out of it…' England thought. Not far from where he'd woken sat a man England had never seen before. From the white coat he wore and the clipboard in his hands, England could guess the stranger was a doctor. 'How did I not see him when I woke up? Didn't I look behind me?"
"I'm sorry," the white coated man said softly. "I didn't mean to surprise you."
"Who are you?" England questioned. He had to admit, he had no idea what to make of the situation.
"You don't recognize me?" the stranger asked. Again his tone was filled with an excessive amount of gentleness that had England frowning in annoyance.
"No. I don't. Now can you please tell me what the bloody hell is going on?" England exclaimed.
The white coated man blinked at England judgingly then proceeded to scribble down some note on his clipboard. The country felt his eye twitch. He was more than a little frustrated that this guy was taking his jolly time to explain himself and was more than just a little frightened that he couldn't remember through the fog in his mind to explain how he'd ended up in this situation. After a long moment, the white coated man looked up, setting down his board over his crossed legs.
"Please remain calm, Mr. Kirkland."
"Look," England said assertively. "I would really like to know what's going on."
"Arthur," the white coated man said with a sigh. "You're in a mental institution."
"Well, I guessed that much," England muttered.
"My name is Dr. Morgan. I've been treating you for the last couple days."
"Days?" England exclaimed.
"You were brought in the night before last, to be more precise," the Doctor elaborated in that condescending tone of his. "It's still morning on your second day with us."
England strained his mind, trying to recall anything that would confirm this. He shook his head. "I don't remember any of that. I don't remember getting here at all!" The idea came to him then. "What have you been giving me?"
The doctor was not put off by England's raised voice. "Are you feeling any pain?"
"I am stiff and groggy and it is very hard to think straight," England snapped. "You can't just drug me and keep me in the dark, doctor. I have rights. What did you give me? Sedatives? Something to keep me from concentrating? Why? How did I get here?"
The doctor watched him carefully as he slowly go to his feet, clipboard at the ready.
"It was necessary to medicate you, considering your unstable condition when you came in. You really don't remember what you've done?"
England scoffed. "I haven't done anything."
That's when the realization finally hit him and he gave a relieved little laugh. "Oh, I get it. Amer-Alfred Jones put you up to this, didn't he?"
The man was obviously only aware of their human alias names and England winced as he nearly let slip the name "America", but clearly this guy was only being paid or bullied into helping America pull this silly little prank. It was the only explanation really.
"Yeah, very funny. I'm crazy. Ha. Ha," England said, sarcasm dripping from his tone while he took a few paces in the doctor's direction while the doctor began to circle around towards the door. "You're probably not even a real doctor, right? And what's this then?"
England tapped on the padded wall then squeezed the material experimentally. "Is this some sort of quilt or something you stuck to the wall or did he manage to get an actual nut-house for his joke, or…"
England found himself fading off as he looked back to Morgan. The supposedly fake doctor's features were stern. Either America had found a very good actor or…
"You're not serious, right?" the country questioned, his new found humor now shriveling away to leave a despair more intense than before. "Tell me you are not serious."
The doctor stuck his pen into the breast pocket of his white coat with a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid this is very serious, Arthur."
England stood mutely as Morgan gave a rap on the glass and suddenly a section wall swung outward to a semi-lit hallway where an orderly stood in nondescript attire. Morgan gave another long sigh as he stepped out to the hall.
"We've pulled back on your meds to see how you handle it. The stiffness will fade. As for your mind, well," Morgan paused, almost as if for purely dramatic effect. "That's what we're here to study, isn't it?"
With hardly a creak, the padded door swung shut leaving a disbelieving England to stand in silent bewilderment.
So yeah... review! :D