Chapter 9: the hero, the monster, the idiot, the awesome, and the old man
America just wanted to die the agony of waiting and the horrible possibility this man would get hands on his brother was overwhelming. Then came the gut retching realization he's had his hands on Mathew for years and years, suddenly everything made sense, it was sick and wrong, but it all made sense.
"Oh god what have I done," Alfred said to himself doing his best to ignore the thing that was leering at him as it menacingly sharpened its knife. But if he thought that would scare America…or that America would show it at the very least, he wasn't given the satisfaction as the American simply glared back at him in reply.
"are you ready to die~" it hissed holding up the knife, pointedly the American looked away and heard a knock on the door.
"DAM!" he yelled struggling more than he ever had as the British man grinned and rose from his place making his way upstairs.
"YOU IDIOT MATHEW RUN RUN RUN RUN!" he screamed as loud as he could, kicking back his feet connecting with the glass with an almighty crash water spilling everywhere and shards of glass scattering across the room. Because of this action America fell on his back still tied to the chair.
He thought of the movies where the bad ass villains told the hero the plan and then the hero would escape, by doing something epic like using something to cut the rope…something sharp…like glass. He could do it! After all if he wasn't a hero by golly he didn't know what he was; still yelling himself hoarse trying desperately to warn his extremely stupid brother he twisted his hands painfully trying to find a shard a glass.
He inhaled sharply as a piece lodged itself in the palm of his hand and ceased his screaming listening for a fight or struggle from upstairs. Hearing nothing he used his one hand to yank the glass from his other hand feeling hot blood ooze from the gash as he bent his wrist in an even more unnatural state and started desperately sawing on the rope.
"please don't be dead please be ok," he chanted as he sawed, eyes half closed willing with all his might that the no sounds were good and not bad, it was as he chanted he was then reminded of the chants his father used to do.
Not many kids could say their father really kept monsters away, Britain could and would however, his palms lighting up and making streamers of light fly across the room changing into whatever shapes the boys willed as along with France, Britain tucked them in.
Alfred also remembered sneaking into his father's room to practice some magic like the epic hero was. In his excitement he was careless and by making too much noise had been caught. That was the first time his father had yelled at him, like really yelled at him, and it was only later after Francis calmed both the fuming father and bawling child down that Britain explained just how dangerous it was for an untrained child to practice magic.
"You could have been hurt or worse brought something here something evil," the Alfred back then didn't dare ask questions but his father had added once this happened the only way to get rid of it was a strong enchantment or to make it think you'd would kill it. Alfred hadn't understood a word but now an invisible light bulb formed, although Alfred thought a visible light bulb would have been totally epic not to mention useful as it was dark. But anyways finally the American understood what he had to do.
. . .
Meanwhile:
It had been a complete accident one that had resulted in saving the Canadian's life. They had dropped him off Francis realizing immediately where they were.
"mon cheri! This is Arthur's house non?" Francis asked forgetting to act like a wounded animal.
"You still live with him!?" he exclaimed as Mathew nodded seemingly at a loss for words. Now Gilbert was a lot more perceptive than people gave him credit for and he noticed, not like he had been staring or anything, but he noticed the Canadian tense up, his relaxed hands turning into tightly clenched fists and his shoulders tensing considerably, the French man seemed unaware and rambled on how Mathew was a grown boy and should have a place of his own.
"papa it's fine it's more convenient this way," Mathew stammered practically turning white as he fiddled with the door handle opening it quickly with a quick "thanks for the ride" and slamming it even quicker.
Prussia watched stunned his red eyes narrowed his chest clenching with a bad feeling, he didn't know why but he felt as if birdie entered that house he'd never see him again.
However the Canadian turned back so Gilbert had no choice but to drive forward waving good-bye as casually as he could then slamming on the brakes hard as soon as he turned the corner.
"mon dieu!" Francis gasped as Gilbert got out of the car.
"France honestly open your eyes something's wrong….don't you find this really fucking suspicious, granted you're not nearly as awesome as me but wake up!" Gilbert said angrily as France got out of the car.
"Mathew is an adult he can deal with things himself," Francis pouted to which Gilbert lost it and grabbed the old man's shirt hoisting him in the air and against his in every way possible awesome car.
"I KNOW I MAY BE FUCKING AWESOME ENOUGH TO PASS AS AN ADULT BUT IM NOT A SAGGING OLD MAN LIKE YOU AND BIRDIE IS THE SAME AGE AS ME HE STILL NEEDS YOU!" the Prussian yelled at Francis whose eyes widened.
"you can do what you want but I suggest you grow a pair and find out what the hell is going on with birdie you know, your son!" Gilbert added as he stormed down the sidewalk refusing to lose his pretty Canadian friend again.
. . .
Mathew had made sure they were gone before he knocked on the door it took a minute but finally Britain opened up the door smiling warmly.
"Mathew my lad where have you been I have been worried about you," the British man said ushering him in. Mathew expected company as he entered but there was no one, no reason to fake a caring attitude, and no Alfred.
In the distance Mathew thought he heard shouting but it must have been the radio which was blasting rock music. Not sure what to think Mathew sat down in a chair Britain pulled for him and watched in awe as Britain busily flitted around making tea.
"uh….w…..w…..where's Al?" Mathew asked hesitantly half expecting for his father to whip around and beat the shit out if him.
"hm~?" came a reply as Britain set two steaming cups of tea down sitting across from Mathew who stared at the cup suspiciously. In all the years he'd been here after Alfred left Britain hadn't once made anything for him.
"ahhh yes Alfred well there was a bit of a…misunderstanding….it's all sorted now," he stated matter of fact as he sipped his tea gesturing for Mathew to do the same. But Mathew didn't so much as touch the cup ignoring the guilty feeling he had from his bad manners but deciding courtesy was far out of the hockey rink at this point.
"Where is he?" Mathew asked a bit more urgently staring into his father's cold eyes and his bright smile that didn't reach his eyes or comfort the Canadian at all.
Britain reached across gently touching the Canadian's hand and the result was immediate, Mathew leaped up as if burned eyes wide with fright his chair falling back with a smash as he scrambled back against the counter.
Britain looked like he was about to say something as real sadness flashed across his face.
"…..m…..Mathew?" realization and horror filled the British man's face and then it was replaced by a cruel laugh.
"Well if you want to be that way, and here I was going to give you an easy quick death." The word death caused Mathew to jolt.
"What?" he asked reaching back searching for a knife a toaster anything. However suddenly his arm twisted up more and he was blasted to his knees Britain holding up his hands glaring at Mathew,
"I wouldn't do that if I were you lad in the short time you were gone did it escape your stupid head I own you! plus you wouldn't want to hurt your precious dad would you?" Mathew fell to the floor screaming out in pain.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH," he yelled as he thought he heard something snap in his arm. Britain pushed his face to the floor and stepped on his other hand making the Canadian scream again as the door burst open revealing Gilbert and France eyes widening with horror at the scene unfolding open their eyes.