Hiya guys.
This chapter may be historically inaccurate.
Warning!
this chapter is extremely long and switches view points.
oh and it's sad, very sad
"Albain, you bastard! When you said that you didn't do a little job that Sasanna asked you to do, I didn't think that it was getting rid of a dangerous ghost… Yeah well even if that was over a century ago it's come back and bit you on the arse now, or should I say bit Sasanna on the arse, kicked him in the balls and stabbed him in the gut!"
Prussia could clearly hear the phone 'conversation' between the Irishman and Scotland without even trying. In fact he wasn't trying. Gilbert was busy tending to Arthur's wounds with the aid of Minty, Sunbeam and some other mythical creatures who had yet to introduce themselves as when they'd seen the state of Arthur they forgot their manners, too concerned with tending to their friend's injuries.
Listening to the yelling coming from upstairs, (yes upstairs, yet he could still hear every word Patrick was saying,) Prussia decided that it was best to stay away from the Irishman - he did have the second worst temper out of the brothers, Scotland having the worst - although people thought England had a short fuse, he was the second calmest out of the family, but was still probably the one that you didn't want to truly piss off.
"No, you eejit Arthur had to fight the bastard during a meeting... He got to the meeting later than usual, he wasn't early enough to set up the protective charm… Don't try to make it sound like it's his own fault, he's got something else on his plate at the moment… Get your arse over here, I need to take care of something and Prussia doesn't fully know what's going on, to help Sasanna properly… Yes, he's a ghost and is living with Sasanna. Look, I don't give a fuck, get your arse over here and deal with him. I'm not even part of the UK yet I'm looking after him better than you, at least I actually finish the tasks he asks me to do… Well you better make it quick as I'm leaving now, I need to tidy things up with China."
Still incredibly angry, Ireland slammed the phone down on the receiver - it was a miracle that the thing wasn't broken yet - and stomped down the stairs. About half way to the living room the ginger seemed to have cooled down as he stopped stomping and walked casually into the room.
Crimson eyes cautiously looked away from the sleeping blonde and met clover green ones. Prussia could tell that the Irishman was stressed as his curly hair was wilder than normal and his usually subtle freckles across the bridge of his nose had become incredibly noticeable due to his pallid face, his usually rosey cheeks having lost their glow. His rather broad shoulders were slumped and his whole posture looked weighed down as if he was exhausted, making him appear to be the same height as England. (When stood straight Ireland is the third tallest out of the brothers; Scotland's the tallest, then Wales. Northern Ireland is an inch taller that England and still growing, making England the smallest. England is also the most slender due to being an angel. If he wasn't an angel, England would probably have a similar build to America.)
A small smile came to the Irishman's face - although he had a short temper, he was a cheery nation. He walked over to the sofa Arthur was resting on and stroked his brother's hair, planting a kiss on his forehead. This action shocked the Prussian, though not as much as he thought it would, he was starting to get used to things surprising him.
"I see you tended to his wounds. Thank you for looking after my deartháir. I'll be off now, but tell Arthur when he wakes up that I'll talk to him later. Alba will be here soon to help you out." The ginger nation flashed Prussia a grin as he left the room, nodding at all the mythical creatures as he went.
Feeling mildly confused by the Irishman's sudden change in personality, Prussia stared at the door frame the Irishman had disappeared* through. His gaze stayed there for a few seconds, before it fell back onto the Englishman.
Arthur was deathly pale, his lips still a tinted a light blue. His brows were knitted together showing that even in sleep the nation was in pain. Most of his body was covered in bandages, there was even one wrapped around his forehead partially covering England eyebrows, making them seem a bit smaller. (All the bandages had come from the first aid kit England keeps in his bag, a habit he picked up during WWI.) He was also buried under several duvets, in hope to bring his body temperature back to normal.
Sighing, Gilbert stood up and looked for something to do to kill time while he waited for sleeping beauty to wake up. (Yes, he was going to refer to England as sleeping beauty for the time being to make light of the situation.)
He somehow found himself entering the kitchen where he discovered some of the magical creatures he'd met earlier, tidying the room. Not really knowing what to do, he thought about England being hungry when he woke up, what the Brit would want though he didn't know. This is how Prussia found himself talking to a unicorn, discussing what England might want to eat. The horse suggested something that England could have with a tea as England would want to eat something light. This then led to Gilbert attempting to make scones with a unicorn and a gnome watching over him, giving him guidance when needed.
Just as Prussia got the scones out of the oven, not burnt he would point out later to England, the front door burst open. Thinking that it could be something of a threat towards England, Prussia dashed into the hallway.
Stood in the door was a tall man, roughly the same height as Russia. The man had broad shoulders, his whole build fairly stocky, but was still slim. His facial features were sharp and well defined. Around his mouth was light stubble and above his lip he had a thin scar. He had thick wild red hair, which matched his fiery personality, and his thick eyebrows were furrowed together, casting a shadow over his eyes. This brought out the colour of the man's eyes even more, as they seemed to glow. Like his brother, Scotland had green eyes but his were acidic.
"Where's Albion?" The Scotsman growled. Prussia had hung out with the Scottish nation a few times and had heard him growl when talking to someone multiple times. This time it was different though.
Scotland was worried.
"Where is Arthur!?" Prussia felt the temperature in the room increase as Scotland yelled. Looking into those acidic eyes, he saw what he knew was a look only an older brother could make. It was furious protectiveness, worry, denial, determination and anguish all mixed into one. Recognising that look, the ghost simply turned round and led the Briton into the living room.
Scotland ran to England's side and gently took hold of the smaller one's hand. Tightening his grip on his brother's hand, Scotland tensed up as he used his other hand to pull away the blankets. Gasping, Scotland choked at the sight at how beaten up his little brother was.
"I'm sorry wee Albion, it's all my fault." Alistair wrapped his other hand Arthur's, swamping the smaller nation's hand entirely. This was the most upset Gilbert had ever seen the tallest of the British Isles brothers, he had to do something.
"Nien, it's my fault. I turned his alarm clock off, so he didn't get to the meeting early. Thought I was doing something nice for the Limey, letting him have a lie in after scaring the fick out of America." Gilbert reassured the Scotsman, though he remained in the doorway, allowing the brothers to have some space.
Alistair looked up from his brother and only just seemed to notice that the one that had led him to Arthur was in fact the dead Gilbert. He shook his head, smiling weakly at the ghost.
"So the paddy was telling the truth when he said ye were with wee Albion. I dinnae mean ta yell at ye, just needed ta see 'im. Had te cancel me meetin' with Nessie te come here, at least it's not raining. So what are ye doing with me wee brother?"
The Prussian rubbed the back of his neck as he fell back in the air, the ghost crossed his legs, floating two feet off the ground.
"The Limey found me at mien funeral, which was as freaky as Hölle. He said that he would help me become solid and that I could stay with him if I wanted. Thought that I might as well as no one else could see the awesome me. He said that he knows there's a way to make me a nation again, not that I really-"
"HE SAID WHOT?! He shouldn't know that!" Scotland dropped his brother's hand, springing to his feet. The sudden action caused Prussia to fall backwards landing on the floor.
"Beruhigen (Calm down)! Mien gott, why shouldn't he know? He hasn't found out yet, the Limey's been looking through books but has found nada. He keeps saying that he knows that there is a way to do it, but get some sort of unawesome memory block."
"Nae, the lad shouldn't know anything about it, I made sure of it when I wiped his memory." Being so worried that England seemed to remember something he shouldn't, it took Alistair a moment to realise what he just said. Unfortunately for the Scotsman, Prussia noticed straight away.
"You erased his memory?! Is that safe? Is that why he's such a scatterbrain? Why would you even do that to- It's about that angel thing isn't it. Mein gott, what happened that was so bad that Arthur's memory had to be wiped?"
Scotland suddenly became very pale. He gave Gilbert a calculating look before he spoke carefully. "You've seen the lad then? How much do ye know?"
Gilbert noticed how weary Alistair now was, and knew that he had to be careful around the nation. If he wanted answers he would have to gain Scotland's trust and be truthful. Getting off of the floor, Prussia stood to meet Scotland's gaze.
"I know that he changes when he admits he's suffering and the other people that know. Also that he has a habit of changing when betrunken and that this happened around the time of Rome. Old Fritz said that it wasn't his place to tell me how it happened, the fact that he denied to tell the awesome me, his country, why means that it is something important to you." Prussia explained calmly, his crimson eyes staring directly into the acidic green. Scotland searched Prussia's eyes for any source of dishonesty, finding none, he lowered his guard slightly. The Briton looked slightly hesitant, looking down at his brother before he looked up to Prussia.
"I suppose that I should let ye know whot happened ta Albion when he was a wee lad, it's not like ye can tell anyone bein' dead and all." Alistair looked up to the albino (his disguise had dropped when he entered England's body) with exhaustion, it was evident that this secret plagued the older Briton.
The Scotsman whispered some words under his breath, a small ball of light floated in between the two. The ball continued to grow as Scotland spoke, only stopping in its growth when the redhead finished.
Prussia gazed at the ball of light curiously, resisting the urge to poke it. The light was the size of a beach ball, and gave off mild waves of heat. The tallest of the pair reached forward, his hand hovering over the ball. Holding his hand in place, Scotland looked at Prussia with a serious stare.
"It will be easier if I show ye. This ball is a collection of our memories of the event, it starts off from Sunbeam's point of view. I'm warning ye, we 'ave only shown France this, not even Albion's colonies have seen it. Dylan told the kids, he's better at explaining things than me.
"Ye cannae tell anyone, especially Albion. If ye do I will personally drag ye ta hell." Prussia swallowed hard and managed a nod. Scotland accepted this and placed his hand on the glowing orb.
Light exploded from the ball, engulfing the room. Prussia shielded his eyes with his arms, only lowering them when he felt a cool breeze and heard the rustling of leaves. Only then did he find that he was standing in a forest.
The ghost was just about to ask what the hell was going on, when a dark green blur ran past him. Prussia found that he was automatically following the blur and caught up extremely quickly. As they closed in, Prussia could make out that the blur was in fact a dark cloak worn by a small figure.
"Arthur, you don't need to do this. It's too dangerous." Sunbeam's voice called out, though the Prussian couldn't see her. He then remembered what Scotland had said about the memory starting from Sunbeam's point of view. He was seeing Sunbeam's memory. The fairy just said Arthur, so did that mean –
"I have to, it's my fault she's gone. I have to try. I don't want my brothers to be angry anymore." The small figure replied through tears. Gilbert recognised that voice immediately, it hadn't changed that much over the years, just a bit deeper.
Suddenly the world seemed to swivel round so that Prussia was right in front of England. The child's big emerald eyes were red and puffy from crying, trails were left on his dirt covered face from the tears. His messy golden hair peeked out from under his hood, flat against his head. Despite being covered in mud, the child's face was wet and he was out of breath, indicating that he had been running for quite some time.
Held closely to his chest was a white bunny, which Gilbert recognised as the rabbit that used to follow Arthur when he was a kid, meaning it was Minty.
The child looked no older than three, yet he was covered in cuts and bruises. The *toddler also* had a quiver on his back, a bow over his shoulder, and was that a dagger that Prussia could just make out under the child's tunic, strapped to his leg?
"Give your brothers time Arthur they are just grieving, they love you. They're just angry and frustrated." The fairy tried to soothe the young nation, Minty snuggling closer to the nation's chest.
Arthur continued to run, jumping over all of the branches sticking up on the ground and ducking under every low branch. "No, I can't. How can they forgive me? It's my fault that our mother is dead. If...If I wasn't so weak, then she wouldn't have needed to protect me. I...I killed our mother and it's only right that I bring her back." The toddler stated firmly, appearing much older than he looked.
"Oh Arthur, you are not weak, you are only a child. You are only young, yet you are so strong already. It's not your fault that your mother is no longer with us, she chose to help you Arthur. She had been dying for a while child, but she wanted to die in battle and what better way than protecting her child?"
"We did blame 'im fa her death, took our anger out on 'im. Our littlest brother. We all ken that our maw was dyin', she had been for a while, ever since Rome first visited our island. It was only after Albion's birth that ye could see how weak she was.
"At the time, we dinnae think about that, we just ken that she died protecting Albion. So he became the target of our anger. We forgot our promise ta protect each other." Alistair explained, his voice laced with grief.
Spinning round, Gilbert found that he wasn't alone and that Alistair was standing next to him, how long for, the albino didn't know. The Prussian didn't know quite what to say, the Scottish nation looked so guilty. He forgot about the Scotsman though as the scenery changed.
There was a large lake that was eerily still. A distorted image of Scotland came into view as the nation stared at his reflection. The preteen stared hard at his watery double as if it had offended him, grunting, Alistair threw a stone in the water. Growling in frustration the young nation stood up and started throwing multiple rocks into the lake, screaming as each one left his hand. Running out of rocks, Alistair screamed once again before sitting back down at the watery ledge.
"Alistair!" a girly voice squeaked. The view snapped round to show a blue glow approaching them. The blue fairy looked absolutely terrified which caused Scotland to worry.
"Whot is it Asrai?" The red head asked as calmly as possible, knowing that panicking an already worried fairy only makes matters worse. The water Fae's eyes were filled with tears, her hand covering her mouth to stop her from sobbing. She took a deep breath before she finally spoke.
"It's about your brother."
"Which one?" The Scottish nation tried to ignore the sheer panic that stabbed his heart.
"It's Arthur!"
"Why should I care about Albion, he's the reason our maw is dead!" The preteen spat, earning himself a slap around the face. The fairies usually blue tinted face was red in fury.
"You know that isn't true. Your mother was dying even before he was born, and she was happy to die in battle. Don't you remember your promise to your mother, to look after each other? Well guess what, Arthur is part of your family and it is your constant picking on him that has caused him to put his life on the line to try and bring your mother back. He can't handle it anymore Alistair, he's physically only three. Your youngest brother and you have been driving him away."
By the end of her rant, tears were cascading down Asrai's face. All the fairies had a soft spot for the youngest Kirkland (Northern Ireland wasn't born yet), and it hurt them to see him suffering.
The point of view switched so that Alistair's face came into view. A look of utter horror came to his face as the fae's words sank in. Before the blue fairy could apologise for her outburst the country spun round and ran into the forest, his blue cloak flowing out behind him.
"ALBION!" Alba screamed frantically as he charged through the trees, ignoring the spiteful branches that scratched at his cheeks. Prussia assumed the blue fairy flew to catch up with the nation and then dashed ahead to lead the way, as they passed the running nation.
Coming into a clearing, which Scotland knew all too well as the place their mother *had taken* her last breath, they found a young England. But what Alistair saw caused him to halt in his tracks, finding himself unable to move forward.
The toddler was surrounded by swirling streams of different colours of magic. His skin was alight with different words in Gaelic, glowing a soft green. There was pain etched on the child's face, but that wasn't what caused Scotland to halt.
No. Next to his youngest brother was a translucent Britannia. His mother. Just seeing her face brought tears to his eyes.
He couldn't believe it, the little squirt actually did it. A look a joy came to the preteen's face, but vanished as soon as he heard Ireland shout.
"Albion, you need to let go!" The eldest nation's panicked tone caused Scotland to look at his little brother, wondering why on earth Ireland would want to stop this miracle. That was until he saw the toddler himself becoming see through.
Albion was fading.
"Brawd!" Wales screamed as he ran closer to his younger brother, only to be stopped by Ireland. The ginger held on to the Welshman's arm and shook his head.
"You cannot enter the spell's perimeter, it could cause serious harm to Albion." The eldest of the brothers said sadly. Wales looked to his younger brother who was becoming more see through with each passing second.
"If we do nothing he is going to die anyway." The elder blonde screeched, furious at his older brothers. Wales was the closest one to Arthur, only being a few years older than him, Wales knew how scary everything looked to him so would occasionally comfort Arthur. He couldn't lie though, he too thought that Albion was the cause for his mother's death.
The three brothers gazed upon the spell taking place in front of them, only to come to a horrifying conclusion. "Wee Albion is still fading but maw innae becoming more solid, the lad is going to die for nothin'." Alistair gasped at his observation.
In desperation, Scotland called out to the dissolving nation. "Albion! Ye need ta stop, ye aren't strong enough ta bring maw back and link 'er ta ye."
Terrified emerald eyes gazed at the three brothers. The sight was heart breaking, a child at that age should not be capable at pulling such a face.
"I can't, I need to bring our mother back. It's my fault she's gone. I'm sorry." Arthur's voice seemed to echo, as if it was disconnected from this world. Despite how the child looked his tone wasn't scared, it was determined and apologetic.
"Damnit Albion, you're not strong enough, you are going to die unless you stop." Ireland yelled, resisting the urge to run towards his brother. They were all thrown off when the child smiled at them.
"You need her, you don't need me." This shocked the brothers, from Arthur's tone, he truly believed it. Their baby brother was willing to die to bring back their mum. They all came to a realisation that Albion initiated the spell knowing full well that there was a possibility that he wouldn't survive. Did they push him away so much that he didn't see the point in living anymore?
"Arthur!" Scotland yelled, causing the toddler to jump. None of his brothers had called him his human name since before their mother's death.
"Look at our maw, she isnae becoming anymore solid as ye fade more an' more. She ain't going ta come back Arthur, and ye are going ta die for nothing. Ye are wrong Arthur, we do need ye, I'm sorry that it took me this long ta realise this. Stop the spell please. We cannae lose ye as well."
The other two brothers nodded in agreement, tears forming in their eyes as Arthur continued to fade. The toddler looked shocked and happy at his brother's announcement, he looked towards his ghostlike mother.
The proud looking woman with long chestnut hair, smiled warmly at her youngest son. Her emerald eyes looked into the identical ones of her son and she nodded, telling him it was ok, he had to let go.
The small blonde nodded at his mother and dropped his arms, cancelling the spell, or so he thought. The colourful streams did disappear, but the words burning on the child's skin grew even brighter. Arthur's eyes went wide in panic, looking towards his brothers.
"I can't stop it, the spell has taken its own. I can't do it. I don't know what to do. Alba I'm scared." The child's voice was becoming scarily faint, frightening the other three.
Alistair swallowed, looking to Ireland for help, only to find the ginger nation biting down hard on his lower lip. Dylan was crying, struggling to get out of his eldest brother's grip, hand outstretched, reaching towards Arthur.
"D-Don't worry lad, we'll help ye." The preteen stuttered, but tried to sound as reassuring as possible. Ireland's head snapped round to the red head giving him a curious yet hopeful look. When he was met with a pained expression, Ireland's face dropped and became serious. The eldest looked towards the red fairy by his side.
"Is there anything we can do for our deartháir Blaze?" The Irishman asked, his voice strained. The red fairy tore his gaze away from the suffering nation, his eyes full of sorrow. The fae frowned at the question, before a small hopeful smile pulled at his lips.
"It's too late to combine your magic so he can complete the spell without his life force being the forfeit price. You might be able to reverse the spell if you all do it together."
Patrick's hold on his brother lessened at the potentially good news, allowing Dylan to escape his grasp and the second youngest made a dash towards Arthur. The toddler noticed his brother's actions, causing him to become alarmed.
"Sunbeam! Amethyst! Cymru!" The toddler screeched. The yellow fairy left the border of the spell and sped towards the charging the nation. She was joined by a purple fae and together they stopped the Welsh nation.
"Don't touch Arthur child, the spell may take your energy as well. It will either cause you serious harm or death." The purple fairy soothed the crying child, she and Sunbeam guided Dylan back to his other brothers.
Seeing their brother being returned to them, Scotland and Ireland continued to quickly discuss their plan of action. "We dinnae know whot spell Albion used an' we need to ta be able ta reverse it."
Scotland's face came closer into view, leaving Prussia to assume that the blue fairy from before had flown closer to the nation as she spoke. "We can tell you the spell, but you must act quickly."
"How does Albion even know so much about magic at such a young age?" Ireland thought aloud, surprised that England knew that interfering with a spell could be harmful to others when Wales didn't. Ireland had taught England some magic when their mum was still alive, so had a vague idea of what he knew, but he'd assumed the youngest wouldn't learn any more when he stopped teaching him.
"Young Arthur has been spending a lot of time with the creatures of old, finding comfort in their company. They are the ones that told him of the spell. You know that they are not overly keen on your kind, but we always thought that they liked Arthur, or maybe they didn't actually expect him to do it." Blaze explained speedily, seeing that the child was now just a faint outline.
Once the brothers were all together, Asrai quickly told them the spell. Hurriedly, the brothers formed a triangle around the toddler, their respective fairy floating by their side to provide aid. The British Isles felt the magic in the ground and inhaled deeply before they started to cast the counter spell.
The same words that were glowing on Arthur's skin appeared on their own, only reversed. The brothers glowed brighter and brighter as they reached the peak of the spell, all of them completely focused .
"Patrick, Alistair, Dylan. I'm sorry."
Horrified, the brothers looked up to see a pair of bright emerald eyes disappear in a bright flash of white light.
"ARTHUR!"
Black
White
Black
White
Black
Endless white, Prussia felt as though his head was turning side to side, as he realised that he was still seeing a memory from someone's point of view. "Ireland." Was all that the present day Scotland next to him said, as the feeling of turning side to side continued, before three figures came into view.
Slowly waking up was Scotland and Wales, they both tried to call out to each other once they spotted the other awake, only to find that no sound came out. Both of them turned their heads to face Ireland, who tried to yell as well. The brothers exchanged confused looks but turned their attention to the other figure in the endless white void.
In the centre of them was a painfully still child. Three quarters of the British Isles tried to run to their fallen brother's side only to find that they couldn't move. Each of them were screaming Arthur's name to wake the toddler, but still no sound escaped their lips.
"Time to wake up my little angel." A voice as sweet as honey called, the brothers stiffened at the sound. They sat wide eyed as their mother walked gracefully past them and over to her youngest child. The beautiful woman crouched down by the deathly still England, and pulled him into her lap. She gently stroked his hair, humming a lullaby.
Slowly the toddler opened his eyes and happy tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked up at his mother. The child opened his mouth to speak, only to croak. Placing a finger on Arthur's lips, Britannia shushed her son. England replied by nodding with much effort, his head falling back onto his mother's arm, too heavy to keep up by himself.
"My silly little angel. You should have listened to Sunbeam, there was a reason why I assigned her to you my son. She does not lie angel, she was telling the truth when she said that it wasn't your fault that I had to leave your world, and that your brothers love you. You know that now right? You saw how much they cared for you didn't you?
"I want you to remember angel, that there will be times when it will seem like the world is against you. You will suffer my dear, but I have left you something to ease your pain. The world is a cruel place my Arthur, just remember even if it seems that they don't, your brothers love you.
"I have to leave you now my little angle, but I will never truly be gone. I know that you and your brothers can see ghosts, but I will not be coming back as one my dear. I died protecting my sweet angel in battle, I am at peace knowing that my sons love each other.
"I love you my little angel. I love you too my angels with all my heart, remember to look after each other. I am so proud of how strong you all are, you truly are my sons." The woman smiled sweetly at her boys.
Before England knew it, his mother was placing him down gently and getting up. She lovingly stroked his cheek then started to walk away. England caught hold of the lingering hand, keeping it on his cheek, tears streaming from his eyes like a waterfall.
The toddler stubbornly held onto the hand as his mother pulled away however, as he was still too weak from earlier, Britannia's hand easily slipped through the toddler's fingers. The woman turned away from her son and didn't look back as she left.
Desperate, Arthur tried to run after his mother, the child made it one step before his legs gave way. The small blonde struggled with all his might to stand, only to fail each time falling back to his knees. Even sitting upright was extremely tiring for the young nation, yet England continued after his mother.
"Mummy, no. Don't leave me again. I can't do it. Don't leave me alone mother. It hurts too much. Mummy, please don't go. I love you so much, I'm sorry. I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry. Mother please don't leave me. Don't go where I can't follow Mummy, I'm sorry, please don't leave me again. It hurts Mummy, it hurts." The child sobbed as he realised that he didn't have the strength to follow his mother, he was just able to reach out for the retreating woman. His emerald eyes were wide and puffy as tears endlessly crawled down his face. His already weak voice growing fainter as he cried.
Ireland sobbed, the view showing that he wasn't the only one as Scotland and Wales were also crying. Each of them were trying to move and go after their mother, but it was as if their feet were planted to the ground. Every one of their pleas and cries fell silent, as no sound left their mouths.
Tears were rolling down the beautiful woman's face as she continued to walk away. Every word that left her littlest one's mouth stabbed her in the heart, Patrick didn't fail to notice that she flinched at every desperate cry.
Britannia smiled sadly as she started to dissolve into golden dust. Bright balls of light danced in the air, a strong contrast to the endless white stretch in front of them.
Deciding that she was far enough, Britannia turned around and smiled at each of her children for the last time. She took in a deep breath before she exploded into gold flecks that swirled around the brothers.
A blood curdling cry escaped the tiny nation, his hand clutching tightly at the white material above his heart. The golden balls all halted in the air before zooming over to the suffering nation. Each ball of light was absorbed by the child's skin, causing it to glow.
Again the brothers tried move from their spots, only to find it a fruitless effort. Leaving them forced to watch their little brother writhe in pain, screaming until his throat was raw. Just when they thought they couldn't stand anymore a golden light erupted from the tiny frame, then everything went dark.
"Wales," Scotland informed Prussia again whose point of view he was now watching from, but to Prussia though, it didn't matter. What he had just seen was truly shocking, terrible. He was having trouble not getting watery eyed at the display he had just witnessed, and it wasn't even his family.
Gilbert saw that they were back in the clearing, a small bundle was on the floor in the centre, four sets of different coloured lights hovering above it. Scotland seemed to be the first one to react at he ran over to it, closely followed by Ireland.
Dylan must have got up and jogged over as they came closer. Scotland was staring up to his other brothers teary eyed, asking what to do as England sobbed in his lap. Wordlessly, Patrick kneeled down next to the red head and stroked Arthur's blonde locks out of his face.
"Why is brawd in so much pain?" Dylan asked weakly, his throat sore from crying. The other brothers shrugged, not having the slightest idea. Blaze, the eldest of the fae present, helped the brothers out.
"Arthur was nearly completely torn apart, his body nearly passed to the other side when you cancelled the spell, but the damage was already done. Britannia gave the rest of her energy that Arthur had summoned to save him, also giving him a way to ease his suffering."
"Ease his suffering? How did she- HOLY FUCK!"
Patrick jumped back, which caused Alistair to jump, jolting Arthur, causing the child to gasp in pain. The red head gave the ginger a stern look, before looking back down at the child in his lap, only to nearly do the exact same thing Ireland had just done.
Luckily for Arthur, Alistair managed to stay still but his jaw was hanging open. Dylan bent down by his brother, curious about what had caused such a reaction, when he noticed the golden ring floating above Arthur's head. Remaining calm, the older blonde carefully undid the tie around England's neck and took his cloak off, revealing a pair of snowy wings.
"Mam did always call us her angels." The Welsh nation said shyly, stroking the wings. The action seemed to calm England down as his wails quietened by a fraction, he also stretched the wing out a bit into Dylan's hand.
The Welsh nation continued to stroke the soft feather, finding that he'd got used to the new development rather quickly while Scotland and Ireland were freaking out that the wings were actually functional and not just for decoration.
"Mon dieu! What has happened here?"
Three sets of head snapped round to find the French nation standing on the other side of the green. The new arrival took no notice of the terrified and angered looks the brothers were giving him and was more concerned about the weeping child.
"Mon Petite Lapin, what is wrong? Why are you crying? What have you done this time to mon cher?" The French preteen asked the brothers accusingly, his sky blue eyes turning icy.
"We didn't do anything to brawd, he tried to bring mother back and nearly died. Mother helped him and now he's an angel." Wales splattered out, shocked at the new arrival.
Scotland pulled England in closer to his chest, a low growl escaping him. Alarmed at how limp England was in his hold though, the red head looked away from the French nation and muttered soothing words to his brother.
Ireland however jumped to his feet, smacked Wales round the back of the head, then proceeded to glare at the other nation.
"Don't go spilling everything." Patrick scolded the five year old who was nursing the back of his head. "How do you know Albion and who are you?"
"I found that child crying at the white cliffs, saying that he was hiding from his brothers. Mon petite lapin told moi about you, so you must be Patrick. My name is Francis, the country of France, I have been making sure to visit this petite ange, to make sure he is alright. So answer my question, What has happened to him?" The preteen stood with his hands on his hips staring the brothers down, even though he was outnumbered, France wasn't going to back down when a child was involved.
Sunbeam informed the brothers that Francis was indeed safe and had been looking after England, giving him food whenever he came to visit.
The brothers begrudgingly agreed to tell the French nation what had happened. When Scotland had finished explaining/showing what had happened, France was in tears. He didn't seem to care that the English nation was now an angel as he started to mutter soothing words in his native tongue to the still sobbing child.
"Ye cannae tell anyone about this. It might be betta if we take wee Albion's memory of this. We dinnae want 'im to try it again when he's sad, it's too painful for the lad." Scotland declared softly, rubbing circles on Arthur's back, the child was in too much pain to take any notice to what was being said around him.
"Will that hurt mon cher?"
"Nae, we did it to Dylan once, it only causes him to zone out every now and then, and he also it a little bit of a scatterbrain but he's fine. Did it to stop him talking about rabbits all the time, didn't work well as he gained an interest in sheep." Ireland explained in a hush tone, being careful that Wales didn't overhear.
"If it's best for brawd then yes, it will knock him out as well right? So he won't be in any more pain."
Scotland nodded to his brothers, ignoring France, he began to recite the spell that would make Arthur forget how he became an angel. Just as the Scotsman finished chanting the words, everything began to fade.
Prussia collapsed onto the floor after being brought back to England's living room, breathing heavily. His eyes wide, not knowing how to feel, what to say. He just stared.
"Albion has a bit of maw in 'im, it's probably the reason he's a bit of a pansy. Bit of a mammy hen and likes sowing. He's the closest thing we got ta a sister." Scotland attempted some humour, but lost its effect as Prussia noticed how bloodshot his eyes were.
"So Francy Pants knew since the start, and this all started before he got taken over by Rome?"
Scotland visibly winced at the mention of Rome. He hesitated before he answered, sighing heavily.
"Aye it did. We dinnae learn from that, we treated Albion poorly when he went with Rome. We thought that the lad, abandoned us ta go with the person who personally killed our maw. So we drove him away again.
"France told us later that Rome dragged Albion away, he cried when he saw the man who killed our maw. We dinnae know that Arthur actually saw our maw die, so was terrified of the bastard. When he cried, he changed.
"Albion was different, unique. A prize. Rome had to have him. So he took wee Arthur with him, made sure that Albion was always an angel. Built a wall ta protect his crown jewel.
"We owe Francis so much for sticking with Arthur during that time. Made sure that he wasnae suffering too much, wasnae lonely. Spending all that time with Albino gave 'im enough time to learn how ta annoy the hell out of 'im though."
There was a long pause before Scotland spoke again. Gilbert could tell that it was making the Scottish nation feel better to get all of this off of his chest, so stayed silent.
"It was a good thing that we took the laddie's memory of the 'incident', during the end of his rule, Rome realised what an arse he had been ta our brother so started ta be nice ta 'im. Arthur grew attached ta 'im as he was so lonely with us pushing 'im away.
"When Rome died, the lad was distraught, said things about wanting ta bring him back. He could 'ave gone through that all again if we dinnae take way his knowledge on how ta do it.
"I 'ave ta thank the Roman bastard though, he told us ta not let anyone ken about Albion and that he changed when suffering. We dinnae know that 'im crying caused 'im to change, never really listened to what the fae said about Arthur's new 'skill'.
"When Albion was free, we told 'im that he had ta not cry. Try ta keep his feelings hidden. He used ta be a right cry baby before. S'pose that's where the 'stiff upper lip' came from." Scotland finished, looking sadly out the window to find that it was raining, 'Very fitting,' he thought. Prussia slumped down on to the floor, his back resting on the sofa England was sleeping on, when he heard a soft sobbing.
Looking over his shoulder to the source of the noise, Gilbert found a pair of folded white wings facing him.
England was awake, crying and knew everything.
...
...
Yeah, sad right?
It's strange, as I wrote this it doesn't really upset me, but i know that if i was reading someone elses work, i would be sobbing by now, but then I do cry easily when watching films...
I sort of forgot about Prussia writing this, every now and the I thought, Oh I should make him say something.
...
i drew a pic of this, it's crap but it was stuck in my head.
it's on my tumblr my user name is Hutcchy1, yeah it suck but oh well. I need to learn how to draw
I'm sorry i did try and put a few jokes in to lighten the mood, but i don't think that worked
See you next time hopefully.
review and stuff if you like, even if it's in another language;)