Chapter 7: Lost Cause

Arthur knew that he wasn't crazy. He knew it, and he absolutely knew that the other countries understood him. Nobody else seemed to though. He lay in a white hospital bed, staring at the bleak, grey wall in front of him. He had to get out of here. There was absolutely no chance he could stay here any longer. There were riots in London. He knew. He had not seen the news, had not heard the word of any others in the facility. But it was painful. For every innocent man, woman, or child that was killed, pangs of pain washed through him. For every shop, flat, and car that was burned in the city, he could feel flames licking at his skin. Yet, he was trapped, unable to move against the straps that held him down. His friends had visited him in this place, he was aware, but even they could not break him of the trance he was in now.

Amongst the pain, he was dimly aware that he had held Zak's file. He had most definitely opened it, had read its contents. Or so he believed. When he read the words, something had triggered in his head, and he had blacked out. Perhaps he had been drugged? Arthur thought this scenario was very reasonable. It did seem like that bastard doctor to taunt him with the file, and then knock him out before he was able to learn the secrets. Just as this thought entered his mind, a voice filled the room, unlike any of the nurses that came to feed him regularly. This voice was heavenly, as if God Himself had sent it down to ease the pain.

"Angleterre."

He searched the room with bright green eyes, which soon fell on France. His golden hair was flowing, his face kind and soft, smiling at him sadly.

"F-France," he croaked hoarsely, fresh tears of happiness spilling down his cheeks.

France strode forward, placing a warm hand on England's forehead. He stroked the other's messy blonde hair for a bit, then spoke again.

"I came to take you away. I came to free you mon ami," he said, moving toward the straps.

"France... How did you get in here?"

"I just walked in, why?"

England did not answer. He was too busy staring in shock at his friends, who had lined up behind France. A golden light seemed to smother the room, as Captain Hook stepped forward.

"France, move!"

"Why Angleterre? I am rescuing you," he said, oblivious.

Captain Hook placed his actual hand on France's shoulder, causing the nation to frown. He turned around, and there was a sickening sound of metal slicing into flesh. Arthur screamed in terror as the pirate withdrew his metal hook, then slashed it into France's stomach a second time. France fell backward, smashing his head off of the end of England's hospital bed, blood soaking the floor and spraying onto the sheets. Hook walked over to England's bedside, wiping the blood off of his metal appendage with his other sleeve. England gaped in shock, unable to utter a noise as his "friends" gathered around.

Flying Mint Bunny hovered next to him before resting on his pillow, nuzzling into his cheek. Arthur wanted to be sick, trying desperately to move away from them. Hook smiled kindly at him, sitting on the bed.

"It's going to be alright Britain. We will stay with you."

"You... y-you fucking killed him!" England shouted, his voice cracking in fear as the others smiled at him.

"I thought you hated him Britain? Of course you did. He never did anything for you, did he? Those 'nations' all they ever did was harass you. After all, it was them who put you in here, am I right? Germany, America, France, they all took part. Your boss, he wouldn't have known if they didn't warn him. Right?"

"SHUT UP!" England screamed, thrashing against the straps that held his wrists and ankles. He writhed around pathetically, before breaking down and sobbing.

His friends took their places on the bed, warm against him. For the first time in his life, England hated them.

"From now on, it is just us Britain."

XxXxXxXxXx

London was a mess. Alfred had seen two men, innocent people, die at the hands of the police. They had shot into a crowd of innocent protesters, unarmed and not dangerous. Of course, there were those who were not so innocent. Some burned buildings, beat and shot others, robbed stores, and sprayed hateful graffiti. The Prime Minister had announced over live television that Britain had broken its alliance with the United States of America. Of course, Alfred had flown over on a private jet, hellbent on confronting the man. He wanted England back, to be safe. He wanted to give the Prime Minister a piece of his mind, to show him that Arthur was absolutely not crazy. He knew the riots were hurting Arthur, he had experienced things like this before. History was painful for countries.

"With the death toll in London rising into the high thirties, it is apparent that the police are not able to contain the riots. The Prime Minister has announced that no help will be accepted from the United States, a very controversial move in this time of crisis. Talks of rebellion against the Government have surfaced..."

Alfred switched off the radio, rubbing his temples in a feeble attempt to fight off the headache that was beginning to surface. He was angry with this situation, and had been getting more and more headaches. The one thought in his mind was to be the hero, to rescue England from that nightmarish hospital. To talk to him again, to laugh when he got offended about his cooking, hell, at this point he'd eat anything the man placed before him. He just wanted life to be normal again. His own country was strong, but without Britain on his side... Things could go downhill fast. He wondered if his boss was making an effort to speak with the Prime Minister, hoping that the man's speaking ability was as strong as usual. The President usually preformed his speeches flawlessly. America shook his head as he drove past a crowd of rioting citizens, locking eyes with the striped British flag that they held. It was on fire. His eyes transfixed on the flag, and the rest of the world seemed to slow incredibly. All he saw was the flames engulfing the flag.

A horn blared and Alfred snapped back to reality, turning the steering wheel hard to avoid a head on collision with another vehicle. He slapped himself across each cheek to ensure that he was indeed paying attention to the road. In a matter of minutes, he reached the Parlaiment. He walked in with his head high, holding up his official papers at a variety of checkpoints. He passed through easily, as many guards recognized his presence. Without bothering to knock on the door to the Prime Minister's office, he flung the door open a bit harder than necessary. It banged loudly against the wall, causing the pale man behind the desk to jump in surprise.

"Alfred... I'm afraid this is a bad time," the man said shakily, wringing his hands together repeatedly.

America just glared at him, striding forward and standing tall above his desk. The Prime Minister visibly gulped, and Alfred almost laughed.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked venomously, placing both hands on the desk.

The Prime Minister jumped back, quivering a bit.

"I'm doing what is best for my country!" he squeaked.

Alfred glared at him, backing up and turning away from him.

"What are you accomplishing by locking up Arthur?"

"Arthur is insane... You have seen it Alfred, I know you have. He talks to those bloody fairy tales."

Alfred tried to swallow the anger that was rising up in him. Of course he had seen England talk to his friends. He had always thought that his former caretaker had done it to keep the loneliness at bay. He lived in that enormous house after all, with nobody around for days on end. Well, unless you counted France spying or dropping by to poke fun at his cooking, but other than that he was very alone.

"Why did you break our alliance? Our countries have been allies for a long time."

The Prime Minister rubbed his temples, and Alfred turned, staring at him hard.

"Britain will do much better on its own Alfred. The country, not Arthur. America is failing, you know that. Your own President can't hide it any longer, the economy is failing, the choices your country is making are hurting us... You borrow money from us, from China, from everyone, and it is never paid back. We paid our war debts, you took the money. America is failing, becoming weak, and we absolutely cannot afford to hand out money to you-"

"I'm not weak."

It came out as a whisper, though Alfred had meant it to be much louder. It sounded fairly pathetic, and sad. He was well aware of the situation that his country was in, he didn't need this man reminding him of it.

"You understand Alfred. This is a win or lose situation. We cannot afford war, we cannot afford debt, and we cannot afford the involvement of other countries. It is obvious that Arthur is not well, and I believe that the stress of a failing economy is causing it. Though Arthur may be a special situation. We are spending money we don't have Alfred-"

"That doesn't mean anything! You're making excuses!" America shouted, whirling around.

The Prime Minister flinched at the loud voice.

"I have spoken the truth about my political reasons for breaking our alliance. However, my personal reasons for keeping Arthur in that facility are not the same. Now, please leave Alfred, before I have you escorted."

Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but clamped it shut soon after.

"I'm not weak," was all he said before turning and walking briskly from the office.

XxXxXxXxXx

The Doctor sat in his office, shuffling through several files on his desk. His eyes had dark circles beneath them, as if he hadn't slept for several days, and his facial hair neglected, a dark shade coming in around his chin. He slapped the files down and rubbed at the lids of his eyes, sighing in exasperation. On each folder was a large, red, CLASSIFIED stamp. He was currently researching many different things, at least ten tabs open on the internet. The Prime Minister himself had ordered him to find an alternative to a lobotomy, one without actual surgery. This was quite complicated, because most of the options involved surgery of the brain. It was very stressful. He glanced over at the monitors on lined up along the wall, displaying many of the hospital's cells. He watched Arthur, who lay in his hospital bed, sobbing.

The Doctor sighed and turned away from the monitors, pondering his latest case. He had been sure he could do something, but it appeared that yet another case was failed. He shut his laptop, biting his lip. Those government friends of Arthur's were becoming increasingly troublesome, particularly the French one. Of course, he had done his research, he knew all about these officials. Much of it had been confidential, but at least he knew the broad overview of it. It was most certainly odd, however, that people so young could be in charge of National Security. In fact, the only one who seemed fit for the job was Ludwig, though Arthur had seemed very mature when they had first met.

"Sir, Mr. Kirkland is causing a disturbance in the Medical Ward. Permission to sedate him?"

The crackling voice of a guard came through a speaker on his desk, startling the doctor from his thoughts. He shook his head to clear any remaining thoughts from his mind.

"Permission granted," he said into the speaker, before leaning back and placing a hand over his eyes.

Kirkland was a lost cause.

A/n: Yayyy I got another chapter done! This fanfic will probs have ten chapters, I already have an outline for the rest written up :) I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, but what will happen next :o I like the suspense in this fic, I hope the rest of you all do as well! By the way, my reviewers are my inspiration, I love reading them, so thank you to all who have reviewed! So much! Byeee for now!