**IF YOU ARE STILL CONFUSED AFTER READING THIS CHAPTER SEE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE FOR A CLEAR EXPLANATION**

Break the Silence
By: Melody Syper Carston

Kapitel Vier: Explained Actions

"It starts with pain, followed by hate: fueled by the endless questions the world can't explain. A stain covers your heart and tears you apart just like a sleeping cancer. Now I don't believe men are born to be killers, but I don't believe the world can be saved. How did you get here and when did it start? An innocent child with a thorn in his heart. What kind of world do we live in where love is divided by hate? Losing control of our feelings; we've almost been dreaming this life away in a world so cold." —12 Stone, World so Cold

By the next day, Alfred had completely forgotten what the two were supposed to be discussing, and Arthur felt ill if he even so much as think about the eventful week that was now past them. He didn't really want to have to deal with talking about any of it and thought that it would just be better to forgive and forget without a true explanation of the actions that had been taken.

The two sat across from each other the next morning, a coffee in Alfred's hands and tea in Arthur's. Their mouths refused to open and speak. Their eyes locked on anything but the other person in front of him. Breakfast had been a tense thing, full of awkward shuffles of feet under the table and irritating clinks of silverware scraping against dishes. Once they had finished, Arthur had stood and cleaned the table before sitting back in his seat. Neither had moved since then.

Finally Alfred's mouth decided to cooperate. "So last night… When you said, 'Don't leave me alone with them,' who, exactly, are 'They'? You never answered my question. You just shook your head and I didn't want to frighten you any more than you were, so I just let it drop…" He finished lamely. The American was trying to be careful with the way he worded his thoughts, not sure how the other would react at that moment.

Arthur's emerald eyes widened, slightly. He shook his head quickly, wanting to get off of the subject quickly before panic and hysteria set in. "No, it's nothing. It's not something you would understand."

Alfred raised a single eyebrow in a way that said 'I dare you,' muttering a quiet, "Try me." He leaned back in his seat and locked eyes with the older Brit, indicating that he wasn't going to move until he got the entirety of the explanation.

Sighing rather dramatically, Arthur ran a hand through his hair. He scoffed once and folded his arms over his chest with a short eye-roll. "Fine. I'll talk."

"Good. Start at the beginning."

So Arthur, swallowing dryly and trying to calm his fraying nerves, gulped down the rest of his tea before beginning from the very beginning. He spoke briefly about each of his colonies and how they had all been taken away from him one by one. He spoke of the time of Silence that had reigned over his house during those periods that he had no colony to look after. He, then, skipped through time and described how once getting together with Alfred, the Silence had disappeared. "It was like it never existed. It felt so strange to have some sort of distraction again." He had commented. He mentioned how grateful he had been of the American for the act. He spoke of how much the breakup had hurt him and the fact that he hadn't been able to get a hold of the American had been even more hurtful.

"They were god awful! At first it was just this veil of blankness that couldn't be broken. It then thickened into something of a wall that couldn't be perforated; I literally couldn't hear my own breathing half these days, let alone my own thoughts. And then the ringing in my ear just kept getting louder and louder until it was more of a wail than a ring.

"Then the voices: They were quiet whispers at first, only caught me when I was tired as bloody hell and let my guard down for the night. They were almost comforting at first, for I thought that they might have been my magical friends coming to finally visit me again… And each day, they grew stronger until they could take over any moment of quiet; that's when I realized that these voices were enemies and not at all friendly. They would taunt and tease and prod and poke at my mind until they had me playing in the palm of their filthy hands. They would lead me where they wanted me to go, as if they were possessing me. There were times when I would wake up and I didn't know where I was or how I had gotten there, but I always vaguely remember the voices telling me terrible secrets.

"The voices soon turned into shadows that would giggle and hide in the corners until ready to strike, but these weren't normal shadows." Arthur's hand flailed awkwardly as if trying to reach for the words to describe what he had gone through right out of the air. "They were almost corporeal. Scared the bloody hell out of me when one of the shadows came off of the wall and walked over to me like a normal human being, calling my name and dancing around me in a taunting manner before climbing back down the wall and under a door to hide once more. Such a strange sight…

"But it just kept getting worse! A child… dressed in a white gown and barefoot suddenly appeared from nowhere! He looked a lot like you, but he only spoke French… and his eyes were more of a violet shade than blue. What was his name…?"

"My brother? Mattie?" Alfred seemed caught off guard by the description.

Arthur snapped his fingers together and pointed at Alfred for a beat. "That's the one. Matthew!" He nodded before continuing on. "Anyway, the little one didn't seem to notice where he was at first. He continued to chase something up and down the halls as if it were a normal occurrence, all giggles and smiles for a while before he saw that I was watching him. Then he ran up to me and started speaking, but his voice was so quiet and his French hadn't been perfected since he was still young… I wasn't able to understand him. Though, it still seemed to give me chills. And then he was gone. Just like that." Arthur frowned, deep in thought.

"That's when you called and we discussed when you would be coming over and whatnot."

Alfred waited for him to continue to speak. When he received only a steady gaze, the American finally spoke. "There's obviously more. Come on, Iggy. I may not be a super computer genius, but I am a Hero. And Hero's tend to know when people aren't telling the entire story." He watched as the English nation started to fidget uncomfortably, twisting his fingers in his hands, biting his lip, letting his eyes wander around the room, rocking back and forth while tilting his head in the opposite direction. Anything to keep himself from thinking about the matter at hand. "Arthur, you know I'm not just going to give up. Have I ever given up on any of my ideas at the meetings? Have I ever given up in fights? Have I ever given up on you?" His voice softened here. "No, I haven't. And I'm not about to start."

Arthur breathed slowly for a moment, trying to regain his thoughts. "Not long after our conversation on the phone, I had deemed it time for bed. I was awoken after midnight, though, by what seemed to be more whispers. But when I woke up, I wasn't in my room. I found that I was in your childhood room. I knew I wasn't alone because there was that infuriating Silence again. I couldn't find anything at first, the room was almost too dark to see… but I could feel something creeping up on me. And then there was suddenly a shadow crawling across the floor. It stopped right in front of me as if it were waiting for something specific. And then it transformed, just like the one that turned into...er… your brother. This one turned into Kaoru. He was quiet under my care, though Yao always said otherwise…" His eyes seemed to glaze over in nostalgia, his voice trailing off.

"Arthur!" Alfred snapped his fingers in front of the Brit's face rapidly. "Finish the story and quit reminiscing."

Arthur shook his head to clear his thoughts. "S-sorry. The first shadow turned into Kaoru. He didn't do anything at first, merely watching, observing as he did when I took care of him. And then, two more showed up—"

Alfred interrupted, leaning forward slightly in his seat. He was obviously interested in where this story was going. "Who did those turn out to be?"

A glare. "Would you let me finish?" Another pause. "These two turned into Matthew and you." A nod. "They were no longer just whispers and no longer just shadows and no longer just hallucinations either. They were made out of the whispers, like the whispers could actually take the shape of something and they chose their speaker." Arthur narrowed his eyes in confusion as he continued to explain. "The three practically were practically on top of me they were so close. And their eyes closed, and their mouths opened as if they were going to speak, but they didn't. Instead the whispers grew louder until they were practically screaming all at once in a slur of emotions and fears and withheld anger. I couldn't move. It was like they had glued me to the spot! I have no idea how long I was there… I just remember trying to block out their voices to keep the guilt from eating away at my sanity.

"And then you showed up, the bloody hero you are…" Arthur could feel his face heating up as the words fell from his mouth. "And like every other time, the Silence was gone and the Whispers and Shadows were as well." He laid his palms flat against the table, pushing up to a standing position and picking his empty tea cup up. Carrying it to the sink, Arthur added over his shoulder, "That's my explanation, and it's absolutely, one hundred percent true."

Alfred was quiet for a long time, seemingly processing what all had been said in the last half hour. He then spoke, eyes glazed over and directed at the place where Arthur's tea cup had been moments before. "So you're afraid of being alone?" He finally asked.

Arthur shook his head. "I'm fine with being alone. I've lived through loneliness multiple times. That's not the problem. It's the silence that comes with it that I'm afraid of." His voice was soft, as if he didn't want to admit it.

Alfred nodded as if finally understanding, eyes widening. "Sedatephobia." He muttered more to himself than to the Brit.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his nasty, greasy hair. "I need a shower…" he mumbled. The Brit turned to the blonde American, opening his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by said blonde.

"How about I clean the kitchen while you shower? You don't have to talk about this anymore than you want to." He added as an afterthought. Alfred stood, making his way to the sink, coffee cup in hand.

Arthur nodded slowly, moving away from the counter and closer to the hall that lead him towards his bedroom. "Sounds fair. I shouldn't be too long. Try not to burn the house down while I'm gone." He was being completely serious on the last note. As he left, he heard Alfred mutter something that sounded close to, "How the hell am I suppose to burn the house down with a little water?" Arthur called over his shoulder without missing a beat. "Oh, trust me. Knowing you, you would find away." And with that, he was gone.

Alfred watched the Brit leave before focusing back on the task at hand. He felt a mix of emotions swell inside of him as he worked. Confusion on what was going on with Arthur and how he was supposed to react to what had been explained to him was one of the main feelings. It was accompanied by guilt, frustration, longing and was that a small hint of hope? Alfred wasn't sure what it was, honestly. And he wasn't sure what to do with it all.

By the time the entire kitchen was cleaned and he realized Arthur had still yet to come out of the shower, Alfred had figured out his plan. He would leave Arthur a simple note stating that since they had discussed what needed to be discussed and Alfred still didn't feel right about what was left of their relationship, that the American nation would be leaving once more for his home land. And he would be on his way.

The note had been easy enough, describing briefly the points needed to be made, throwing in his new cell phone number and his current work schedule in as a second thought. As he grabbed his bags though, he knew something was off.

"What are you doing?" A voice, very quiet and very scared asked from behind Alfred, startling the American and in turn making him whip his head around so quickly that he gave himself a crick. While rubbing at his sore neck, Alfred took in Arthur's appearance. Clad in only green boxers with a fluffy white towel hanging from his shoulders, hair still dripping wet, a puddle of water at his bare feet.

Alfred swallowed, keeping a calm and steady voice as if trying not to spook a timid wild animal. "Well, I figured that, ya know, since we talked… and we're obviously not together, that I had overstayed my welcome and was headed home. I decided that there was no point in staying in England if I'm still not on the right terms with the nation himself so—"

Arthur's shoulders began to tremble with the force of his frantic head shakes. "No! You can't leave me here with them! Please don't leave." His voice though soft held a slightly desperate whine to it as though Arthur were having a panic attack over the thought of being alone with Silence once more.

'And he very well might be having a panic attack.' Alfred thought to himself, dropping the bag that he had left by the door in the first place once more to rush over to where Arthur was standing. "Hey, Artie calm down." He whispered, wrapping his arms around the English nation reassuringly.

"I don't want you to leave. You break the silence. It doesn't come back when you're around." Arthur buried his face in the American's shoulder, breathing erratically from the panic closing around his throat.

"Shh… calm down Artie. I promise nothing with hurt you. It's just a lack of noise. There's nothing that could possibly harm you in any way. Honest." Alfred moved a hand to massage at the skin between Arthur's shoulder blades, whispering comfortingly sweet nothings into his ear over and over until the Brit had calmed down enough to speak coherently again.

"I'm sorry." He whispered finally, moving so that his chin rested on Alfred's shoulder, his eyes trained on the wall behind the American.

"It's nothing, really. I mean, you used to do this for me all the time when I was—"

"Not that, idiot! Just-Just listen. I'm sorry about losing my temper that night when you came home a bit drunk. And I'm sorry I pushed you over the edge enough to make you want to break up with me. And I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls throughout the past week. And I'm sorry for everything I've ever done that lead up to this." Arthur muttered, letting his hands trail absent-mindedly over the sleeves of Alfred's bomber jacket.

Alfred tightened his hold on the Brit's waist, taking his turn to speak. "And I'm sorry for being a complete douche and taking my stress out on you. And for leaving you when you needed someone the most. And for being the idiot I was to take all of this to realize that I truly do love you. And want to protect you from any monster that may ever try to get to you." He whispered back.

Arthur's face turned slightly pink as he said the next statement. "I miss you, you git."

Alfred laughed, kissing the Brit on the temple. "Missed you too."

X~*~X

A/N: **IF YOU ARE STILL CONFUSED AFTER READING THIS CHAPTER SEE THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE FOR A VERY DETAILED AND VERY CLEAR EXPLANATION**

To those of you still confused about Little America, Little Canada, and Little Hong Kong: yes, *nods slowly* they are hallucinations. Made out of degrading whispers albeit but hallucinations nonetheless. That's the point of a psychotic breakdown. So, honestly, I wasn't going to explain. I was just going to let this chapter speak for itself in all of this but here's the general idea of what's going on:

Diagnosis: Brief Reactive Psychosis.

Explanation: Because Arthur has been left alone with only Silence for so long, his mind has begun to unconsciously think about his worst-case-scenarios that he has come up with in his head about what each of the colonies could have hated him for and why each of them wanted their freedom from him. With so much time to itself, Arthur's mind has started to run rampant and play out these scenarios as many times as it possibly can. The repeated blows to his mental status has cause a lapse of Brief Reactive Psychosis: in other words, because of these constant thoughts, he has stressed himself into an illness that causes very sudden, very rapid psychotic symptoms that usually only last about a month. After which the person recovers completely.

Theories suggest that this illness can develop from poor coping skills as a defense against or escape from a particularly frightening or stressful situation. These factors may create a vulnerability to develop brief psychotic disorder. In most cases, the disorder is then triggered by a major stress or traumatic event.

Symptoms include:

Disorientation or confusion, changing in eating patterns or sleeping patterns or energy level or weight, unusual dress or behavior, problems with memory, speech that doesn't make sense, disorganized thinking, the inability to make decisions, and so on.

Long Author's note is long. I apologize.

X~*~X

So... I apologize, also, if you suddenly get about... thirty notifications about this chapter... Fanfiction is not cooperating with me at the moment... and will not post this chapter no matter how many times I try to re-upload and reboot and re-name and rearrange it all... So I'm trying with a different computer to see if the problem is my laptop or just my account in general.

Gah this absolutely sucks...

~Melody Syper Carston