Break the Silence
By: Melody Syper Carston
Kapitel Zwei: Pleading Insanity
"And though I tried to, tell you that I need you, here I am without you… I feel so lost, but what can I do? Because I know this love seems real… And I don't know how to feel… We say goodbye in the pouring rain and I break down as you walk away… Stay… Stay… 'Cause all my life I've felt this way, but I could never find the words to say… Stay… Stay…" —Stay by: Hurts
As the darkness sifted around him in swirls and waves, it seemed to also be carrying him away to somewhere other than that not so comfortable flatness he had been laying on. It carried him up and away, turning here or there, shifting his weight from one place to another but never dropping him. Only carrying, carrying, carrying. His body swayed with the movements, back and forth, back and forth as if he were in a boat rocking with the currents. His body felt light, featherlike. He nearly smiled at the feeling.
Arthur Kirkland suddenly felt something warm and soft under him, as if the darkness had become a tangible cloud underneath him and the dark side of the sun a blanket that cocooned him in the inky depths once more.
"Should we open the window? Doesn't daddy usually open a window before he sleeps?" A voice near his left whispered naturally as if the voice could reach no louder level of volume.
"Yeah! I'll do it!" A braver—but still just as quiet—voice answered. This seemed to be the leader of the group by the way the phrase was spoken. "It looks like it's going to rain… Oh well… It's kinda far off. And I'm sure Iggy'll wake up by the time it gets here. He'll have it shut by then."
There was a near silent 'pop-shhmp' as the window was pushed open. Cool air immediately started to flow through the room.
"R-right. Well… let's go, Alfie… we will get caught if England wakes up with us still here!" This voice was more hesitant and afraid, accent thick and English slightly butchered. It didn't seem to belong in the crowd.
"Yeah… Iggy wouldn't be too happy if we woke him up. He's kinda scary when he's cranky…"
There was a shuffle of multiple pairs of feet and then silence once more. It still rang clear in his half-coherent state, ringing, ringing, ringing. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his eyes fluttered open at the sudden crash of thunder over head.
The window! He flew to a sitting position and held his hand out to level himself from the immediate head rush he received as a consequence. Once he was balanced again, he hurried to the window to slam it shut. He glanced down at the desk that was now soaked. "Bollocks…" he muttered, picking at the soggy documents and notes he had spent so much time working on for the next World Conference.
He frowned, staring at the window that shouldn't have been open in the first place. "How did you get open?" He whispered, his fingers reaching up to brush against the now latched casement.
A scoff and a quick shake of the head was all the question received as an answer.
He then noticed his phone on the opposite side of the desk—miraculously untouched, as was his wallet and watch. The screen informed him that he had yet another voicemail from his American lov—ex. The nation rolled his eyes and picked up the phone, opening the voicemail and pressing the device to his ear.
In the message, three voices were obviously arguing, small snips of Korean curses and Japanese retorts drowning out the third—a voice trying to get the other two to quiet down.
Finally, a loud shout of, "Will you two please shut up or at least go into another room to argue? I'm on the phone! Thank you!" And then silence only broken by a timid laugh from the Korean and an apologetic, "Gomenasai, Alfred-kun..." from the Japanese.
Alfred's voice picked up again slightly rushed and jumbled together. "Hey, is something up? You usually pick up even if it's just to say that you're not in the mood to talk… You didn't even pick up for Francis, not that I'm surprised or anything. You aren't that pissed, are you, dude? We still need to talk about this, ya know... And the sooner the better. Well, I have to go before Yong Soo and Kiku tear each other's throats out! Call me back later. Seeya, Iggy!"
Arthur shook his head and deleted the message with a weary sigh. Stuffing the phone back into his pants pocket, the Briton made his way to the hallway into his study, preparing himself for a long rest of the day buried to his waist in paper work.
X~*~X
It was some time later, long after the sun had set and had dimmed the room exceptionally, when Arthur leaned back in his seat, popping stiff joints in the process. He had been working for hours merely trying to catch up on the work his country had piled on him. He was by no means ahead like some other nations boated about at times. Arthur never was. He was always behind, feeling as though he had twice as much work as the other nations did lately.
His head lolled back and his eyes gazed up at the arched ceiling above him. His hands came up to rub at his face, trying to rid of the oncoming headache. The attempt was futile, though.
Arthur stood stretching his hands over his head and twisting his body until he heard several more satisfying cracks. He turned, shuffled the papers back into a decent order, left the study and slipped down the halls of his home, having no idea where he was going. I just need to clear my head a bit before I get back to work is all. And since it's still raining bloody hell out, might as well travel the halls. It's better than pacing the study.
His fingers trailed the walls absent-mindedly, skipping over photos hanging here or there, memorizing every scratch, dent, nick and bump his fingers traced over. His emerald eyes swept from side to side counting doors and naming them each in his mind. There were three different directions to move in now. Continuing forward would lead him on to his bedroom… To the right and left were guest and storage rooms.
Just as Arthur was deciding to turn back, he caught movement in the corner of his eye. From the left. Where he stood, it was only what seemed to be a shadow of something rocking back and forth, back and forth… back and forth. The Briton turned, searching for the movement again but found nothing but an empty hallway of even emptier bedrooms.
He knew this hallway.
This is where he had found himself standing two days ago without any collection of how he had gotten there. He remembered the little voices that had been whispering in the back bedroom, Alfred's old bedroom when the American had been his colony.
Suddenly, he remembered seeing dull brown eyes staring up at him, begging for the Briton not to hate them or the iris' owner. Hong Kong— Kaoru's eyes. 'I'm sorry, Daddy, please don't hate me…' He remembered the sinister flash that had followed that desperate look as the world around him had collapsed.
The air around him seemed to stick in his lungs, it thickened and blocked out the noise of a nearby grandfather clock ticking rhythmically. It muffled the sound of his breathing like cotton. It slowly drowned out the tap of the rain on the roof, sheltering him. It sucked all noise out of the area. As the air was too thick to penetrate. Once again Arthur could feel the blinding white of the silence creeping up on him again.
A shadow loomed over him. It brushed over his shoulder and curled around his wrist, locking around the joint tightly. Before Arthur could move to slap the strange, tangible shadow away from him, it had vanished and appeared half way down the hall. It taunted him, teetering back and forth, back and forth, swishing back up to Arthur and brushing his face in almost a faux-caring manner. It danced passed him once more, sliding up the wall and down a door, disappearing under the gap as if it hadn't just attacked Arthur and was merely following its master. A giggle rang through the halls as the shadow left, clear and childish.
The laugh started strong and then faded as if the person laughing were traveling, rather quickly, down the hall. The voice was shrill and bubbly as if bounced off the walls and formed words. "Angleterre! Comment allezvous?" a small giggle split the two sentences in half. The voice stopped in front of the Briton and a small child dressed in a white nightgown appeared, blue violet eyes twinkling innocently. "Où est Papa?" The child disappeared before Arthur could question where he came from.
A sharp chirp echoed in the halls, making Arthur yelp and jump a foot in the air. He grasped desperately at his chest, trying to keep his heart from leaping out. The blonde let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding when he realized it was merely his phone announcing that Alfred was once again trying to call him. He quickly fished the device from his pocket and pressed 'talk' holding the device to his ear.
"This is Arthur Kirkland, how may I help you?" he answered as calmly as he possibly could. He was surprised to hear his voice come out much smoother than he had expected.
Alfred breathed sighed loudly on the other side, creating a field of static between them. "Dude! What took you so long to answer? I thought you had gone and keeled over already! Dammit, Iggy! Ya had the Hero all worried! And Hero's never worry!"
Arthur scowled, snapping a quick, "My name is not Iggy! It's England. Or it's Arthur. It's not Iggy nor is it Artie. And I'm a nation. Great Britain to be exact. You'd know if I'd died." He stuffed one hand in his pocket made to move but found it felt like lead weights had attached to his ankles. He frowned slightly, staring at his feet as he struggled to move down the hall to a quieter place, for the giggling was still ringing around the area he was standing in. He slipped into the closest guest bedroom, shutting the door as quickly as his sluggish movements permitted him.
Once greetings had been said, the two quieted, Arthur still struggling to keep the Silence in his house away, and Alfred waiting for the other to speak. The pause was full of tension and too much thought. It was uncomfortable for the two, but neither knew what, exactly, could be said to break it.
Alfred finally let out a breath and spoke uncharacteristically soft. "We need to talk… I mean, we can't keep running away from this, Arthur, and I'd rather not hold back until the World Meeting next month 'cos that'd just be too awkward."
Arthur nodded before realizing the other couldn't see him. He quickly answered with a small, "I agree."
"So… where ya wanna meet up? I can't discuss this over the phone. It doesn't feel right."
"It's want to, you incompetent git. Don't butcher my language." The Briton moved to sit on the edge of the bed in the guest room; his head was much clearer now, but he could still hear the giggling voice slightly. They were losing volume, thankfully, fading quietly but still just as hysterical sounding as they had been before he had gotten the call. "Why don't you come here? You're so dead-set on leaving your home; that should be no problem."
A pause, this one shorter than the other. "Yeah. I can work with that." And then the soft, rhythmic taps of fingers ghosting over laptop keys. The 'tmp, tmp tmp…' sound drowned out the rest of the hysterical laughter and Arthur breathed an audible sigh of relief. "What's up? You seem nervous about somethin'. What's botherin' ya? Let the Hero handle it!" This was followed by a small chuckle as if the American were laughing at some inside joke of his.
The Englishman froze before spitting out violently, "N-nothing…! You must be hearing things… I assure you, not a thing is bothering me." Lies.
Alfred sounded unconvinced. "If you say so, dude. But ya know you can tell me anything, right?"
Arthur scoffed at the cliché line.
The American snorted. "Okay, so I have a ticket booked for tomorrow. Sound good?"
"S'fine."
"Alright. Well, my phone's dying, so I'll talk to ya later! Bye, Iggy!"
"Yeah… Don't call me that!"
'Click'
X~*~X
"Why…? Why did you leave us? What did we do to deserve this? Daddy, what did we do?"
Arthur shot up in bed that night only to find he was in some unfamiliar room. His emerald eyes adjusted to the very dim lighting; the nation realized that he knew his surroundings quite well. He was once again in Alfred's room. How he got there the Briton was still unsure, but something about the place sent shivers up and down his spine.
A shadow crawled across the floor with a tiny whine, hovering in front of his face for a long while before it finally took the shape of a person.
It molded itself into a boy; soft, chin length dark brown hair, spiked randomly and hanging neatly on either side of his face, framing it. His brown eyes were full of unspoken questions, but his mouth was set in an unemotionally straight line. The boy was Kaoru. The one that stole his consciousness the last time he was in this room. The one that had always called him 'daddy'. The only one, at that. And although his mouth wasn't moving in the slightest, and he didn't seem to be speaking, something around the child whispered. The hushed voices held short conversations, quiet and quick but to the point.
Another two were suddenly next to him. These two were blonde. One with golden blonde hair and the other was more of a wheat blonde. The older of the two sat slightly behind his brother, his blue violet eyes swimming with fear and hurt. The braver of the two watched the Briton with curious sapphire eyes. They both wore white night gowns that went to their knees. Alfred and Matthieu. The two had carried Arthur to his room while he had been unconscious. 'Iggy' and 'Angleterre' he was called by these two boys. The twins, too, seemed to be whispering without speaking.
That's when Arthur came to a conclusion about the unsettling hallucinations he had been seeing for the past week.
They were made out of corporeal whispers.
The three boys surrounding him, staring at him with wide emotion filled eyes, had always been his favorites. The way they watched him unblinking, though, unnerved him to no end.
Their eyes closed suddenly and their mouths opened slightly, enough to speak. But they did not speak themselves.
Instead, the whispers the three were made of grew louder and stronger until they were screaming in Arthur's ears.
"Why did you leave me daddy?"
"Just acknowledge me! I'm here too! It's me Angleterre!"
"I just want my independence, Iggy! I just want my freedom!"
"Daddy! Why are you ignoring me? You resent me don't you? I'm not good enough. I'll never be 'Little Alfie'."
"What about Papa? Where is he? Why did he leave me? Why don't I have a say in this?"
"Pay attention to me, Daddy!"
"I never liked you, Iggy. I've always wanted to break away from you. I could never stand you. Living with you was merely a pity call."
"Arthur! What about me? I know I'm not as great as my brother… But… you shouldn't leave me behind. I really don't like being forgotten."
"Don't leave me alone!"
The screaming was too much for him! He trembled with fear and tears pricked his eyes. "Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!" he whispered bringing his hands up to close over his ears, clawing at them violently. He shook his head over and over again, the bodies pressing close to him, pulling at his wrists, trying to get him to listen to them.
He curled in on himself, nails clawing at his hair and ears. He screamed at the voices until his throat was raw. He let his fear-filled tears slide down his face until they no longer came. He pressed his back as close to the wall as he possibly could as the three boys—Whisper Children he called them—grappled with his arms, tugging them with all of their might. He ket his eyes shut, too afraid to look at their emotionless faces as they screamed with as much emotion as they could find.
Arthur wasn't sure how long he stayed in that position. He wasn't sure how long he continued to hear the voices, older and younger and of all of his former colonies and all of his older brothers. He wasn't sure how long he spent fighting back the compelling need to deny the things they said. He wasn't sure how long he took the insults. He couldn't tell.
Time seemed to blur together, but moved much too slowly.
He just remembered the new voice. The voice full of worry and panic. The one not of the past.
He remembered suddenly feeling a strong, comforting vice grip around his shoulders. He also remembered the feeling of the bed dipping beneath a body's weight. A real, completely corporeal weight.
"Arthur? What's the matter?" The voice had first only seemed concerned. But it soon escalated into panic. And pure unadulterated fear. "C'mon, ya gotta answer me so I know what to do! Are you hurt? What happened, Arthur?" There was a movement on the bed and then the weight was gone. "Maybe Mattie'll know what to do..."
Arthur panicked. His eyes shot open and one arm unwrapped itself from around his legs. "No!" He wanted to cry out, but his voice was no more than a whisper after screaming for so long.
Alfred heard him though, and he turned back with wide blue eyes, filled with concern.
"Don't leave me alone with them…"
X~*~X
A/N: Planned to have this out sooner. Failed epically in backing the document up properly. Computer crashed. Lost the document and had to retype it all. Boo.
Is my French correct? I'm not the best at it… and it was my friend who helped me with the translation, but I'm still not sure if it's right…
"I don't see why people add disclaimers to their stories. I mean obviously they don't own it, or they would be multimillionaires that actually did something with their lives instead of writing things for fanfiction. If they actually owned all of this shit, then it would have actually happened, and they wouldn't even bother to think about this dumbass website." -One of my friends on disclaimers
~Melody Syper Carston