"Thank you for finally going on a date with me," Alfred's bright blue eyes still had a sense of begging from the several weeks of him asking Arthur out.

"We're already boyfriends, Alfred," Arthur sighed, but still kept a smile on his face. Alfred was just so cute sometimes. "I don't see the point in going on dates."

"The term is dating," Alfred corrected him. "And in order to be dating, we need to go out on dates."

"Whatever," Arthur chuckled as they walked into the restaurant Alfred had booked for them.

"Come on," Alfred walked quickly in front of Arthur, and gave him a quick peck. "Loosen up. Please?" He gave Arthur his signature puppy dog face. He looked like such a child in his suit, it was almost cute.

Arthur laughed at the thought. "Don't worry, I'll be fine, love," Arthur had gotten dressed up in a suit, too and he wasn't just going to not have fun after he had tried so hard.

"Since when do you call me 'love?'" Alfred teased.

The two joked and taunted while they were seated at their table and practically ignored the first couple waiters that tried to help them.

"Say, I have a question," Arthur said as they got their food. "When is it that you will notice that man over there staring at us?"

"Hm? There's someone staring at us?" Alfred looked around all too obviously.

"He has been for quite a while," Arthur took a sip of his water. "I think he was here before we sat down."

"Is he bugging you?" Alfred asked. "Because I can tell him to cut it out!"

"No, it's okay," Arthur turned to poke at his food with his fork. He wasn't even quite sure what it was. He just glanced at the first thing he could see on the menu and picked that.

"You said he's been staring at us? I wonder why…" Alfred sighed. "Where is he, anyway?"

"It doesn't matter that much, Alfred," Arthur sighed.

"Yes it does," Alfred kept looking around the restaurant. "He's bothering you."

"Alfred, I appreciate you caring about me, but it doesn't matter that much."

"Fine, just tell me when he's really bothering you."

"Well, he's walking towards us," Arthur muttered. How he could see that without looking up from his food, Alfred didn't know.

"What?" Alfred whispered as a man walked up to the two. He placed two hands on the side of the table and leaned towards them.

"Hello you two," he was obviously British. "I've noticed you two talking about me."

"And how do you know it's about you?" Alfred snapped, he tried to assert his authority, like any normal guy would.

"You are very obvious," the man sighed. Arthur noticed his short, black hair was gelled back roughly and his blue eyes were almost terrifying. This was definitely the man who had been following him for the past couple weeks.

"Well, you're bothering Artie," Alfred said, but the man stopped him.

"Shut up, I'm not interested in you," he turned his head towards Arthur, the intensity in his eyes making him shiver. "You, on the other hand, are an interesting specimen."

"Excuse me?" Arthur demanded. "I refuse to be talked to in that manner!"

"Sure you do," the man chuckled, his teeth were obnoxiously white. He went over to Arthur and forcefully pulled him up to a standing position by his arms. "Now you are going to come with me." And then, in a way that only Arthur could hear it, the man whispered, "England."

"Says you!" Alfred stood up quickly. But, right after, Arthur felt something circular hit his side, Alfred's eyes widened and looked like he was about to sit back down.

"Sit down and stay," the man ordered. "Obnoxious American…"

"Hey, as-as much as I would like to agree with you," Arthur looked down quickly to see what was pointed at him, ending up finding a pistol, "I…uh…I must say I need to…step out for a moment."

As quickly as possible, England darted out of the restaurant and took a quick left once he entered the cold air. He was running so fast, he didn't notice two people right in front of him. He fell right on top of them.

"Mon dieu, Arthur!" Arthur heard the familiar voice of Francis underneath him.

"S-sorry," Arthur stuttered as he pushed himself up to a standing position and then held out a hand to help Mathew, who was with Francis. He looked around nervously behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"Alfred told me he was taking you on a date," Mathew spoke quietly.

"We wanted to make sure everything turned out alright with you two," Francis looked at Arthur skeptically. "Obviously it isn't?"

"Um, that's-that's not it," Arthur looked back again, to see Alfred rushing towards him.

"Shit, Arthur!" Alfred panted. "You okay?"

"What happened? Where is he?" Arthur turned away from Francis and Mathew.

"I dunno! I punched him in the face and ran after you. We need to go!" Alfred started to run, but Arthur stopped him.

"You don't understand! He knows!"

"Knows what?" Francis snapped. He wanted to be a part of this, too.

"He called me England," Arthur whispered and looked behind him, only to see the man step out of the restaurant. "Bugger!"

Arthur quickly grabbed onto Francis' wrist and sprinted in the opposite direction of the man. Alfred soon followed after him, dragging Mathew along. BANG! A gunshot rocketed past them. Several people on the street screamed, mainly women, but the four didn't stop.

They ran deep into the city of London, eventually getting deep enough into a crowd of people to think he probably wouldn't be able to find them.

"Who was that?" Mathew panted. He had never had to run so far in his life.

"I don't know!" Arthur looked around frantically for the man. "I can't believe he shot at us!"

"Why are you running away from that dick?" Alfred demanded. "Show him who's boss!"

"He called you England?" Francis asked. He had been thinking about it the whole time they were running.

"That's why I'm running away," Arthur snapped. "If he knows what I am and he's willing to shoot me, something's wrong here."

"And he called me a stupid American…"Alfred whined.

"I agree with him there, Alfred," Arthur chuckled slightly.

"Wait, if he knows you're England," Mathew muttered, "what else does he know?"

"I-I haven't a clue," Arthur muttered. BANG! Another gun shot sounded, clearing the area by having everyone run in opposite directions. And then Alfred saw the man coming towards them.

"Arthur, run!"

It was dark, Arthur could barely tell where he was going. His heart was pounding as he ran away, but he could hear the tell-tale sign of someone's footsteps following him close behind. There was a gun shot just above his head.

"Bugger!" Arthur shouted in surprise and rounded a corner into an alley way. He didn't expect it to be a dead end and he slammed into the brick wall, jamming his head into it.

He turned around quickly, the footsteps that were behind him slowed to a walk and he heard a deep chuckle.

"You're mine now."

In a split decision, Arthur tried to run for it, almost making it past the man, but he gripped onto his right arm, pulling it back harshly and Arthur heard a pop and pain exploded in his shoulder.

"Shit!" Arthur dropped to the ground, the man letting go of his arm. He felt the knees of his pants tear and the skin getting cut.

"Hey!" Alfred's voice rang through the alley and Arthur heard something like a fist connecting with skin. "Don't mess with him!"

"And you would prefer I mess with you?" the man's voice stayed calm. Arthur looked up and saw crimson dribbling just beneath the man's nose. The two quickly got into a fist fight as Arthur backed out of the alley way. He scrambled to his feet and started running in some other direction.

Francis stopped him, holding onto his arm, thankfully not the hurt one. "Where did Alfred go?" he asked.

"I don't know," Arthur gasped for air, holding onto his shoulder in pain. "I wasn't quite paying attention to what went on. I-I think he got into a fight with…with…" Arthur struggled to think up a name for the man. "Him?" that's what he decided to go with.

"Well, you're gonna have to run…now!" Mathew yelled, which for him was more like a regular voice.

"Going!" Arthur started to keep on running.

"Shit! Arthur! Don't let him get to you!" Arthur could hear Alfred yelling at him before he got slammed to the ground by something heavy. His head was slammed once again into stone and he felt glass shards that were probably from a smashed bottle go into his skin all over him.

Quickly, he was pulled back up, his dislocated arm pulled behind his back. And he felt that familiar circular thing touching the small of his back, right behind his stomach.

"Just so that you won't run away again," the man whispered before…BANG! For just a short while, Arthur screamed at the pain in his stomach. But, after a while, he couldn't feel anything, not even his head hitting the ground, which was the last thing he saw before his world went black.

Arthur woke up dazed and confused. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, all he knew was that his headache had gotten far worse. It was almost like someone had hit him on the head. All of the memories stuffed inside of him made Arthur almost incoherent.

He tried to move, but something was blocking him and it took him forever to figure out it was at his wrists. He was sitting upright in some sort of chair, he didn't really care much. It was mostly black around him, only a few lights told him that he was in some sort of warehouse. There were a lot of windows, but he didn't care to look out of them and figure out his surroundings.

Dear God! His head hurt! He almost curled into himself, if whatever was binding his wrists was holding him back.

"You know, I'm still surprised you're alive," the voice of that man sounded, only causing another pang in Arthur's head. "What's the matter?" the man spoke after a while of quiet. "Too tired to talk to me?"

"Who are you?" the words came out in a slur. Arthur was barely paying attention to the matter at hand. The matter in his head a much more pressing matter.

"I figured it would be easy to kidnap a nation, but I didn't think it would be this easy," he sounded as if he was gloating, Arthur couldn't make out the words all that well. "Believe me, I had to do my research on which nation to try to abduct. I could have chosen Italy, but he was protected by Germany. I couldn't have chosen any strong countries, like Russia. I would get my ass kicked. And picking a nation that's already ignored like Canada would just be pointless. I would never choose to kidnap France, and America is just obnoxious."

"Who are you?" Arthur repeated himself.

"And then I saw you, not really protected by anyone. A great and powerful nation. You were the perfect target," the man sighed and waited a while. Arthur chose to look at the ground, that sight soothing him better than the rest of the warehouse. The man grabbed Arthur's chin forcefully and made him look into his blue eyes. "I am Marcus Tyler, soon to be the richest person in the world after I put you're pretty little head up for ransom. I'm positive the queen would spend a lot of money to get her precious country back."

"Right," Arthur mindlessly agreed. He didn't pay much attention to the name, or anything he just said. Certain things were swarming together in his head, forming little clumps of random memories. The order was mixed up, though.

"You're not as much fun as I had hoped, England," Marcus sighed and he stepped away from Arthur. It appeared as if he was sitting down in his own chair. "How about you try to be at least a little entertaining?"

"Sorry," Arthur didn't know why he was apologizing. He winced as he felt a pang in a specific area of his head and he tried to curl into himself again.

"You had more spunk the other night," the man sighed and Arthur could feel him looming over him. "You're so boring and pathetic now."

All of a sudden, Arthur felt something hard hit him square in the jaw. Pain exploded in the area, and the chair almost fell over with him, but the man kept it in place. Arthur could just feel a bruise starting to form.

"How about you fight back?" Marcus snapped.

"Bit preoccupied," Arthur could barely get the words out. He was back to looking at the ground and he saw that this man was wearing shiny dress shoes. This was the first time Arthur paid attention to what he was wearing. It looked like a business suit, why was he so well dressed?

"Get over yourself," Marcus scoffed. "You're not that great."

Arthur wanted to say something, retort, but he couldn't. Rather he just tried once more to curl into himself from the pain in his head

Okay, here's this...More than half of it is a flashback of the day Arthur and Alfred had their "car accident" in the form of a dream. And we finally get to know Arthur's stalker, who is an OC, Marcus.

Hope everyone enjoyed it!

Please review so I can feel good about myself and I don't own anything, like Hetalia or...anything...really.