Black or White 3
The next few hours were awkward as the police questioned the clueless man. The doctors also wanted to examine him and confirm his memory lost. It had been an annoyingly long day.
The men who called themselves his brothers also reappeared.
They seemed a lot calmer, now that the initial shock of their younger brother having amnesia was over. They started telling him things, trying to jog his memory.
He was a representation of the country of England, he was part of the UK, he was 23, he lived in the outer skirts of London in a cottage, he was mostly immortal, he healed at an increased rate compared to humans and he could also see magical creatures but he shouldn't say that out loud to other humans.
He still couldn't remember anything though.
He was out of bed now, in normal clothes – an informal dark green suit.
The blonde looked in a mirror at himself and was surprised by his appearance.
He had green eyes, pale skin and was a bit skinny looking but so were his brothers so that didn't shock him.
However he was shocked by the fact his had blonde hair. For some reason he was expecting something else, another colour. His height seemed strange to him; he felt a lot shorter than he should be. He felt like he was meant to be quite a tall person, rather than this average height blonde.
He was also pleasantly surprised and pleased that he was fairly good looking. He wondered briefly if he had a girlfriend but dismissed it quickly. He doubted he would date a girl who would not visit him while he was in hospital.
Arthur straightened his tie.
He glanced at his eyebrows and suddenly noticed their size. England was a little surprised at their size; he didn't expect to have thick eyebrows but it also felt normal to him.
The only plight that he had was a white square on his cheek.
He wondered what was behind it.
Gently he pulled the sticky bandage away from the skin. He took it away completely and his light green eyes widened.
On his cheek was a raw scarlet X.
The red against the white made it distinguishing. He touched it and it stung slightly.
Where did it come from?
His mind remained blank.
England had discovered he remembered how to cook meals, how to disassemble and reassemble fire arms, how to clean mustard from a table cloth and how to do various jobs that didn't require personal knowledge like names and dates. Yet he couldn't remember where he got this cut from.
It didn't matter much anyway.
Even though he only woke up this morning, he was already allowed to leave. That speedy healing body was apparently very handy.
However he had told the doctors, he would rather live in hospital for a couple of days to get used to his amnesia and identity as Arthur Kirkland, England.
A snicker came from the door and he flinched. North Ireland was grinning tightly at him, forcing a smile.
"Hey, Iggy. Worried ye haff lost yer good looks?" England scowled which made the Irish man laugh strangely again. The blonde looked back to the mirror, deciding not to replace the plaster.
Suddenly he heard a murmur.
"…. … switched…"
It sounded like what he had heard earlier with Wales. A familiar voice and phrase. This time though it was less muffled. Still he could not understand what the voice had said.
"Excuse what did you say?"
"I said come on. The doctor says that being around familiar things might help you remember. Plus Alba is finally open to visitors today."
"Alba?"
"Scotland. He's tha oldest. Wales told ye that, remember?" The auburn haired man began walking out the door, expecting the blonde to follow.
"What do you mean 'finally open to visitors'?" He asked as he followed him.
North Ireland made a small frown but then began smiling tensely. He guessed waiting around in a hospital for three days with two brothers in bed gave you time to harden up against the pain.
"Ah. He was shot several times. He was in surgery for hours. It's only to be expected, aye, that he wasnae able to haff people see him, right?"
"Aye."
The Irish boy suddenly laughed. "It sounds funny when ye talk like that."
"You talk like that."
"I'm Irish."
"And?"
"It's me accent. Ye should speak more Englandly."
"Englandly?"
"Aye. More Engla~ Oh! It's this ward!" England wasn't paying attention to where he was being lead so was surprised when he suddenly found himself in front of the intensive care unit.
"ICU…" The blonde mumbled to himself.
The door swung open automatically like a mouth in the wall.
They entered.
The mouth of the wall snapped shut, saying nothing.
It was eery how silent the place was.
The Irish man walked along the rooms, peeking in each window for their brother.
"Ah Ha!" He stopped so suddenly that England bumped into him.
"What?"
"It's this room, silly!" He jumped through the door excitably. The blonde followed nervously, not sure what to expect.
The man had been shot in the chest and forehead by the robbers, right? How could he possibly still be alive?
Ah, right…
Practically immortal country…
He wondered if he had been shot before. He was shook from his thoughts by the comatose man before him.
The man was pale, just a slightly lighter skin tone than him and darker than the white bed sheets. He had crimson hair, the colour of blood. He also had a tightly wrapped white bandage around his forehead and a similar white square plaster in the same place as England's was.
They weren't the only things tarnishing his face.
A rather scary looking breathing mask covered his mouth, helping the red head breath oxygen from a tank. There was slight condensation on the inside of the clear plastic. An IV dripped a clear liquid into his right hand from a bag on a metal pole while another machine pumped a thick, dirty yellow food substance through a tube that went up his nose and presumably into his stomach.
The covers on the bed were pulled back slightly, revealing his upper chest which was bare except for the bandages that covered his left shoulder and chest. His arms had several more square white bandages. The room was quite warm so it wasn't surprising that the covers were not completely covering him.
A heart rate machine beeped steady as it monitored his pulse while another machine measured his brain activity which had low readings for the moment. It seemed he was brain dead. A bullet to the forehead can do that though.
England stared at the man, feeling a bit like an idiot, unsure of what to do or say.
He didn't recognise this person at all.
(A/N - And here is the next part in this (hopefully) mysterious story.
Most people are making guesses along magical memory lost and mind switching. I find it quite amusing that most assumed Scotland had lost his memory as well. However this chapter kinda shifts that around. No one will know if he does have memory lost until he wakes up. Another mystery in other words. Mwuhahahaha!
To be honest - one thing that surprised me was that no one was 'yelling' at me yet for basically killing both Scotland and England. I was expecting some comments along the lines of "NO! Scottie! HOW COULD YOU SHOOT HIM?" or "OMG! How can you do that you Iggy! Bring him back!" or "I LOVE YOU ALBA! GET BETTER!"
But now I am expecting some of them now... You can't make one of the main characters brain dead without a comment about it.
I was expecting haters to suddenly show up for some reason since I switched on anon reviews. I nearly hoped for one so I can use my razor sharp British wit, sarcasm and Scottish rage. I had a weird moment were I suddenly thought. 'Come get me bitches and haters! I'm bloody Scottish so I'm bullet proof! Mwuhahahaha!' Though the fact Scotland has been shot disproves that bullet proof bit...
The 'You should sound more Englandly' is based on a comment I got in Edinburgh. Apparently I don't sound Scotlandly enough for a taxi driver's liking. Ignore the fact I have lived in the Highlands my entire life and that my family has been living in Scotland for generations.
The reason he said it is probably because the Inversnaky accent is quite different from the Edinburgh one. We still say Scotlandly things like 'Aye', 'Cheers mate' and 'dinnae' but we don't use as many as the low lands do. However - People from Inverness never say their 't's. We say wa'er, bet'er and wet-er instead of water, better and wetter. Plus we are responsible for the imaginary word 'jamp'. We say it instead of jumped.
The hospital description is vaguely based on when my granny had a stroke and was hospitalised.
GIVE ME MORE GUESSES! I loved the ones I have read so far! Some of your theories are great! I love the ones with large scaled evil organisations and magic.
Please Review!)