Chapter 2: In a Dark Place
It was crowded in the Socialization Section. England could not find a place to sit, so he simply leaned against the cold wall. Hundreds of other prisoners surrounded him, doing various activities. Some chatted with each other, some played games with chalk on the floor. A game of leap frog was taking place in the center. Others traded contraband, and some picked fights. It was actually slightly amusing to England, watching as these humans interacted. They seemed relatively normal, but England held his breath on that statement. You never knew who might actually be insane. For example, the man who was now sliding on his stomach across the floor at England's feet. The man stared up at him and licked his dry lips.
"Got any cigarettes brother?" The man seemed desperate, and he was shaking, constantly licking his lips.
"Sorry, ask someone else," England said quickly, wanting to avoid the man.
"I've killed people for that stuff. I swear I'll do it again," the man said, staring hard into England's eyes.
England turned his head away, mumbling the same thing again. But the man was persistent, and stood, grasping the sleeve of England's shirt and bringing their faces close.
"I've killed men with my bare hands for a light," he said threateningly, barring his teeth.
His breath reeked, and his teeth were a ghastly sight. Just as the man had begun to make strange, violent noises, another man came up to the two. Without a second thought, he punched the man hard in the face. He literally hissed, then slunk away. England took a good look at his savior. He had light brown, shoulder length hair, and several scars on his face. A tattoo curled around his neck and ran under his shirt, and England could see tattooed flames running from his sleeves to the tops of his hands. He grinned at England.
"Gotta' watch those addict types. They can be dangerous, my friend."
His voice was a low rumble, and his accent was laced thickly with Russian. England wondered just what a Russian man was doing here.
"Thank you, I'll watch myself from now on," England said, nodding.
"Name's Zakhar Cherstvennikov." The Russian held out a scarred, rough hand.
"Good to meet you Mr... eh..." England's face flushed as he struggled with the pronunciation of the complicated name, and Zakhar laughed powerfully.
"Just call me Zak, my friend."
England chuckled slightly.
"It's nice to meet you Zak. My name is Arthur Kirkland," England said, shaking Zak's hand.
"Well then my friend, tell me about yourself. How you landed yourself in this hellhole?"
The two of them talked for quite awhile. For the first time in a year, England was actually enjoying having a conversation with someone. In Socialization, he never talked to anyone, usually just finding some place to stand or sit, avoiding everyone. England thought he may have found someone who was sane, until Zak told him how he got in this place.
"I tell you my friend, were all sane here. I know I am. You want to know how I got in this place?"
"Oh, yes please."
"My wife and I were on holiday in London. I told her not to speak to anyone, that I would speak for her. Some proper gentleman held open a door for her, and she defied my orders. She actually thanked him! So, I stabbed her twenty seven times exactly, and played the 'mental condition' card in court. I thought it would be better than having myself landed in some rotten Gulag, but I was wrong. This place is madness."
England paled and swallowed hard. Zak had really killed his wife over a simple formality? Zak must have seen the look in his eyes, because he laughed loudly again.
"Don't worry, I don't have problem with you, my friend. Maybe eh, get drunk and fight men, but stay calm and kill woman... Just be thankful you are not woman."
England nodded, completely horrified. He cursed himself again and again for befriending a cold blooded killer, wishing it had never happened. Zak placed a hand on his shoulder and looked to the rest of the room.
"You see this place? I would kill every last svoloch here to gain my freedom. I want you to help me, my troubled friend."
England gasped, his eyes widening.
"W-what? Me? I'm no killer, sorry Zak."
"HAHAHA! No killer, indeed, but you are small. You may fit through vent even. We can get out of this dump, no? Together, and I make sure you are safe. We can get out there and drink ourselves silly! Yes, the good life, my friend."
"I don't know... They'll just look for us. Please, I don't want to be caught," England said, trying to back out of the idea.
"Don't worry about it Arthur. If I can get out, I have many connections. I can get you out completely legally, as far as they can tell. If you can help me find a way out, that is. Help me?"
England bit his lip. Everything about it went against his morals, and Zak seemed dangerous.
"I'll think about it," he said, delaying the idea.
Zak just grinned widely.
"I understand, these things take time. I will find you again, my friend. I hope your answer is yes, though one can only hope," Zak said, clasping a hand on England's shoulder.
"Yeah," England said nervously, "one can only hope."
XxXxXxXxXx
America paced around his room, bored out of his mind. Nothing helped to edge away the boredom anymore, not video games, movies, or even McDonalds. He sighed and flopped down on the couch, taking out his phone to text. Life without Iggy was so boring! He wanted to see his former brother, but the hospital only provided one visit per week, and he couldn't make the last one. After a few minutes without texts, he sighed and got up, heading out. He got in his car and drove off, hoping he could find something to do. There was never anything anymore.
After an hour of driving and wasting gas, America found nothing to do. He groaned angrily and punched the steering wheel of his car. He just wanted Iggy back. He fought back tears. Heroes didn't cry. He slammed the door of his car and headed inside. He walked along his manor until he found the storage room. Inside was dusty and dark. He dug around until he found what he was looking for.
"I'm gonna get you out Iggy. Don't worry," he said softly as he clung to a hand painted toy soldier.
Tears finally managed to escape.
XxXxXxXxXx
"Plotting an escape Mr. Kirkland?" England's doctor held him by the arm, dragging him forcefully down the dingy hall.
"How did you even hear us?"
"You didn't think we had microphones in every corner? Your own bloody clothes have them you ungrateful fool," the doctor growled angrily, stopping outside a door marked S-23.
"That's not fair, we should be able to speak freely!" England protested.
"This isn't America, Mr. Kirkland. You of all people should know that! A week in solitary ought to straighten out your warped mind," the doctor hissed, opening the door.
Inside was a small, blank room. The walls were thickly padded, and the door had no window. There were no lights in there. England began to breath heavily.
"You can't put me in there, you have no bloody right!"
"Oh yes I do. This will teach you a thing or two about obedience!" the doctor shouted, and threw England into the cell.
The door slammed behind him, and darkness filled the room. There was no light source at all. England screamed and pounded against the walls, shouting and sobbing. He dug at the padding with his finger nails, and kicked at the door. He rocked himself and cried, then returned to punching and kicking. Eventually, he was worn out. He collapsed and breathed heavily. He couldn't help but fear for Zak. Even though the man was terrifying and cruel, he was England's only friend in this hospital.
Except for the others.
"Flying Mint Bunny?"
"Oh Britain, they are so cruel to you," the high pitched voice said, and a bright light formed at England's shoulder.
The green, winged rabbit sat on England's shoulder, nuzzling against his face.
"I'm not supposed to see you," England stammered, squeezing his eyes shut.
"But I'm your friend Britain. You love me. You love all of us," the bunny said, cooing softly.
"You're the only ones who understand. You're real," England said, relaxing.
"Of course were real. We always have been."
The once dark room was bright and alive with creatures and friends. Uni curled up in front of England, and Captain Hook sat beside him, smiling and softly humming a pirates tune. Tinker Bell fluttered above his head, playing gently with the curls in his hair. England smiled and curled up with his friends.
That night, he had a dream. He was with France, as a child, holding his hand. They were walking through the brightly lit woods, France spinning him around and laughing. When England woke up, his friends were still there, asleep. He smiled and fell back into his dream. There was nothing better to do anyways.
XxXxXxXxXx
France walked up the gravel path to Germany's house. It was enormous, and elegant. He knocked on the huge front door, which was opened shortly after. Italy stood in the doorway, yawning as if he had just woken up. France just had to smile at Italy's tired face. The young Italian rubbed his eyes, and then grinned at France. Then he looked down, noticing his pink footie pajamas. He let out a small cry of embarrassment, and France chuckled a bit.
"It is alright mon ami, I have a pair as well. Can I come in?"
Italy smiled brightly at the news.
"Ve, come in big brother France! Germany is making breakfast!"
France walked in, admiring the paintings on the wall. Suddenly, the smells of a delicious breakfast filled his nose. Italy skipped along, singing out loud. France walked briskly to keep up. They entered the kitchen and Italy announced their arrival.
"Germany, look who came to see you, ve!" He sang.
Germany stood over the stove in his pajamas. His hair was loose and flat, and what he wore made France laugh openly, for the first time in months. He wore footy pajamas as well, except his had a tail. They had stripes like a tiger, and a they had a picture of Italy's face on the chest. Germany yelled loudly in horrifying embarrassment, his face resembling a tomato.
"Italy you dumkopf! You let him in while I was wearing this!" He screamed, then bolted from the room.
Fifteen minutes later, Germany walked out fully clothed, still bright red and avoiding France's gaze.
"I came to bring you Angleterre's notes. And I wanted to ask you something important as well," France said, still grinning.
Italy was laughing, and Germany was still horrified.
"Well, thanks for that. Just, don't tell anyone about this France, or I will make you suffer. Want some breakfast? Were having wurst omelets and a cheese platter."
"Oh no, I don't mean to intrude," France said kindly.
"I insist, you've already done enough damage. Can't make it any worse by eating with us, right?"
"Well, alright, it does smell heavenly," France said, sitting at Germany's table.
They ate with a bright conversation, though most of the talking came from Italy. Germany reminded him several times not to chew with his mouth full, and France ate politely, though Germany insisted he have more. After his third wurst omelet, France told him he was so full he might explode. Then, they sent Italy off to the store, so they could talk about more important matters.
"What was it you wanted to ask me France?"
"Well, I think we should bring everyone together. America is sure to say yes, China is on board, and Russia says he will make everyone anyways. I think we should band together and confront Britain's parliament. We should ask for his release."
Germany considered the thought.
"But what if he is really schizophrenic? Wont it interfere with world business?"
"It never did before! Think about the impact its had on us all, emotionally and economically. Angleterre's bosses make terrible decisions, we all know that! Please Germany, you have to say yes," France begged, pleading with his eyes as well.
Germany sighed.
"Very well. It is true, the loss has been great. We should do this, but we must take precautions! You understand the nature of his... condition."
"I know, but what he really needs is his friends. We will get him through this."
"Yeah. We will. Let's get the others on board."
A/n: Updated rather quickly, huh? Was this good? I tried to throw in a bit of humor towards the end, just as a bit of relief from the darkness. But the first part was pretty dark, right? R&R :)