"A-Allistor..."

"Are ya happy with yerself?" He growled, taking another drag.

"H-Huh?"

"You heard me!" He shouted, his eyes flashing. "You have no fucking clue how much Artie has been depending on you! He -"

"Hey." Prussia moved, standing between the bed and Scotland, looking up at the man he called his friend with hard eyes. "Now is not the time for this, Allistor."

"Don't patronise me, Gil." He snarled.

"Y-You can see me too?" America stared at him, wide-eyed. Scotland, England's brother and one of the closest people to Arthur bar himself, could actually see him.

"No shit I can fucking see you, you retard. Who the fuck do you think I am?" He gave a hollow laugh at America's blank look. "You really have no fuckin' clue about us, do you? No wonder Artie keeps this side o' himself hidden from you. " He took a slow drag, exhaling with a growl as he kept his fiery eyes glued to the trembling American. He was too scared to even ask what Scotland meant by Arthur's 'hidden side'.

"You couldny imagine how happy I was to find that you were fucking stuck here instead of moving on." He sounded anything but happy. "Think 'ow glad I felt when I knew I'd be able to hear your whining and moaning every single time I came to pick my brother up. And you fucking crying every single hour during that piece o' shit that was meant to be your funeral? How the hell do you think I felt havin' to hear you sobbing about how you were going to be forgotten and how you didn't want to be alone? 'Don't. Stop. I'll wake up. I'm the hero.'" His face twisted as he mocked America, who still hadn't recovered from the pain of one of the most terrifying moments of his life. "What kind of fucking man are you?" He seemed to snarl with each breath, his thick accent making his mockery and hate only more brutal to America, who was frozen in fear as Scotland shouted.

"What about Prussia, huh?"

"Hey, Allistor..." Prussia said softly, his eyes going dark as he glared at his friend.

"He's not even a fucking country any more and he's still better human being than your sorry ass. Yer a fucking super-power, you twat. Gil has ta deal with the fact that he's going to vanish one day, an your the one who's crying about not being heard. Think of someone else for once in yer shitty life, you arrogant prick."

"You need to calm down." Prussia said softly, trying to placate Scotland, but it as no use.

"He can't do magic." He continued to shout. "D'ya ken what that means? Every single one of us fuckin' Kirkland's can do it, and no matter how shit we are at it, we all get familiars ta help us along in life. Artie canny see his anymore, at all. They've been circling around him since yer fuckin' accident, tryin' ta get his attention and dying because he CAN'T FUCKIN' SEE THEM!"

There was no stopping Allistor now. America could see true rage in his eyes, and he was just glad that he didn't know America could still feel pain through his physical form.

"And I suppose ya know all about how every time your fuckin' "4th of July" comes around, Artie sits at home, drinkin' away, tryin' to forget about the shit YOU put him through!"

"He raised you, loved you from the moment he set eyes on you and gave you everything you wanted, and what did you do in return? Ya betrayed him, left him fer me ta clean up and try to put him back together after ya destroyed his heart. I was totally against ya waltzin' back in ta his life like ye had a right to, but he was happy, happier than he'd been in a while, an' so I left it.

"Okay." America choked, tearing up. "I understand." He gasped, trembling at the Scotsman's anger. "I get it, I'm sorry... So, please, stop -"

"Yer 'sorry''? Ya think yer fuckin' 'sorry'? Cos last time I checked, sleepin' with some blonde whore takes more than a second to do. Or are you just that fuckin' retarded?" He snarled cruelly. "Were ya 'sorry' when she threw herself inta yer lap? Or 'sorry' when ya went up ta the room that you and Artie make love in every night and shagged her brains out!"

"Scotland." Prussia warned

"Or 'sorry' when you shook hands with her afterwards like the fuckin' retard you are, tellin' her 'thanks for that' with that god-awful grin on yer face."

"Scotland, stop." Prussia pressed, louder this time.

"Why?" His voice softened, his brow furrowing as the pain he felt at America's betrayal of his brother started to show, his voice cracking. "What could have possibly made ya sleep with 'er? Was Artie not enough? Was he not satisfyin' you, or did ya jus' want ta try it wi' a woman fer once in yer fuckin' miserable -"

"H-How?" Alfred stared at the Scot, wide-eyed and terrified at what he was being told. He had spent the night with the woman, but even he didn't know her name, and there was no way that Scotland could known these things unless he had talked to her...

"You shouldn't be asking me "how"!" He roared up at America. "You should be thinkin' about how lucky you are I dinny fuckin' - "

"Allistor!" Prussia shouted, cutting him off. There was a moment of silence as they glared at each other, Allistor scowling as Prussia hardened his gaze, neither of the sure of Scotland would allow his rage to take over. "Leave. Now." He ordered, sounding serious for once. "Before you kill someone."

All the tension in Prussia suddenly vanished as he flicked a smirk at America. "No pun intended."

They stared each other down, Prussia holding his ground against Scotland's glare. America had heard rumours of how fearsome Scotland could be, but he never thought it would be this terrifying.

"Fuckin' yankee." He snarled up at America as he took a drag of his dying cigarette, nodding once to Prussia before taking off, his heavy boot-steps echoing around the large room as he made his way to the doors. He shot a glare at the old man who had been watching them in quiet interest the entire time before storming out, furiously attempting to light a new cigarette while rubbing his aching ear.

...xXx...

"Sorry." Prussia said softly, not taking his eyes from the door, worried that Scotland would return. It wasn't that he was scared of his friends rage. It was more that he was concerned what Scotland might have let slip if he had continued shouting at America. "I need to check on him."

He didn't once look at America as he hurried off, knowing the guilt he had been trying so hard to ignore about what he had done and what he had allowed to happen would instantly arise.

"Yer a cruel man." Scotland growled quietly as the door clicked shut behind him. Prussia jumped, a tremor of nervousness shooting through him, and turned to meet Allistor's glare, a new cigarette quietly burning away in one gloved hand as he rubbed his iron earring with the other.

A/N: I hope the way I typed out Scotland's speech didn't take away any of the tension I was trying to create. I toned it down a lot for this chapter so hopefully it was easier to read :)

Also, you can read a piece about England's depression from Scotland's POV here - /s/8817794/1/Independence-Day-Blues (add the usual address before this – it can also be found under 'My Stories' titled 'Independence Day Blues')

Everyone who reviewed/PMed with their guess got Prussia's right – he can see America because he's not a country anymore and 'dead' himself, but no-one has guessed why Allistor can see America so far :P I'll give you a little clue – I've mentioned it slightly in this one, but it's technically mentioned in the anime as well. Anyway, a one shot for whoever can guess it ^-^

I laughed at the review who said about the twinkie shortage being reason for America's coma. If I didn't already have a reason, I would have so made that it :P

And just be glad I already have the next few chapters planned out, because, after America said 'How?' I was totally prepared to have Scotland rip of his shirt and scream 'because I'm that woman!'

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