Warnings: GerIta, hinted FrUk, PruCan, LietPol, AusHun, Spamano, blood and slightly disturbing things, and language

Arthur's heart stopped, "A-Alfred? Alfred? Alfred?" he dashed over to the still form of his former colony and froze over him. The boy's face was streaked with dry tears and his face was pale like a sheet of paper and...and he was breathing. Arthur felt his heart beat again and let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looked at the orange bottle of pills. He picked it up gingerly and examined it properly.

It was new and Arthur could see, through the clear orange plastic a collection of small white pills. It was half empty but he noticed in relief that the majority was on the floor where it had spilled. The label had been torn off, just leaving the sticky residue behind. The cap was missing as well, and no matter how hard he searched the room he couldn't find it- or the label. He rushed back to Alfred and swore softly, he should be taking care of him- he could look for them later.

He struggle to pick up the boy with some effort. "S-shit! I told you Alfred, you bloody git, you're fat!" he looked over at the face resting against his shoulder. His expression was so peaceful-unlike his usual jubilant and obnoxious ones. His glasses were gone as well. He paused after resting the american on his bed. He found Texas on the bedside tabel. He looked back at Alfred. "He looks so young without them..." he stroked the boy's cheek thoughtfully. "You idiot" a single tear rolled down his cheek, "what the hell have you done to yourself?"

He was startled by the banging of a door and a collection of screaming voices.

"Al! Al! Where are you? Al!"

"Amerique! Ou etes vou?"

"Dude! Awesome is looking for you! Where are you dude?"

"Comrade could be upstairs-I doub't he'd be in the garbage can Gilbert."

"Shut up commie! Stay away from me!"

"Callate! Alfred! Donde estas!"

"Alfred-san! Alfred-san!"

"Oi! Burger-bastard! Where are you!"
"That's not very nice Lovi..."
"Shut up tomato bastard! I'm being concerned..."

"Ve! Fratello, I didn't know you even knew that word!"

"Shut up Feliciano!"
"G-Germany help! Fratello's s-strangling me!"

"SHUT UP ALL OF YOU! HE'S IN HERE YOU DUMKOMFFS!"

Suddenly the room was flooded with the nine nations- all bickering and panicking at the same time. They all stopped at the site of the american's unconscious form. Canada reacted first. "AL!" he flung himself on his brother and began to check him thoroughly while crying hysterically. Gilbert followed and wrapped him arms comfortingly around the canadian's waist. France went to England and began to interrogate him while the others crowded around Alfred.

"What happened here?" Francis asked gently brushing the tears from Arthur's eyes. He didn't even know he had started crying again. Or maybe he had just never stopped.

"I-I don't know I just got a call from him like I told you and when I rushed over here he was slumped over on the floor near his bed and he had a bottle of pills and oh God Francis I-" Arthur buried his face in Francis's chest and France wrapped his arms protectively around the smaller man's shaking form. "Shh-It'll be alright Angelterre, America will be alright you'll see, so just stop crying please" Francis soothed and pressed a kiss to Arthur's hair.

Germany went and inspected the pills, "Where's the label? Italy!" "Ve!" and like the obedient lapdog that was Feliciano (heheheh Italy being obedient C:) the Italian began tearing up the American's room in search of the white sticker. Everyone went to help the little Italian-except for Canada who was being comforted by his lover.

Come now Arthur-being here isn't going to help you feel any better. Let's go downstairs and make you some tea okay?" "But-" England glanced back at Alfred with wide panicked eyes, "No buts- now come on".

The room was quiet. Switzerland and China were both upstairs examining Alfred. They were both trained in medicine. Lichtenstein was serving beverages to everyone who was currently sitting in Alfred's living room. Italy sat on the window sill with Germany who was comforting the Italian as best he could while Italy reverently held a rosary praying. Spain was doing the same for Romano who was also praying on the floor beneath Germany and Italy. Russia sat near Lithuania who was hugging Poland and trembling. America happened to be his best friend. The Baltics also attempted to comfort him but were failing. Belarus stood behind her brother, leaning against the wall. She, surprisingly, was doing nothing but watching her brother quietly. U

kraine squeezed her brother's hand and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief lent to her by Hungary who sat with Austria on the couch. Japan sat quietly in a corner on the far side of the room in silence. He too, was America's best friend. Canada sat in Prussia's lap on the couch. The Prussian stroked the sniffling Canadian's hair while his twelve baby chicks huddled around them, peeping quietly. Canada hugged his bear friend to his chest for comfort. All five Nordics were sitting around the coffee table in silence. England sat hunched at the far end of the couch. His eyes staring into empty space, looking dull and dead. France sat beside him with an arm around his shoulder, only moving to retighten the englishman's grip around the cup of tea in his hands so it wouldn't fall.

Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps coming from the stairs, everyone looked up expectantly at China and Switzerland who now stood at the foot of the stairs. England looked up but his eyes remained dull.

China cleared his throat, "Well, he seems to be a coma of some sort that was probably caused by the pills-but that's not what is bothering me the most" England's eyes became a little more inquisitive. "I think it best if you saw for yourself. I think that only a few should go though, it'll get hectic with everyone in one room. England stood up immediately along with France, Canada, and of course Prussia. There were protesting sounds but Switzerland shut them up while China let the four nations upstairs.

Upon reaching the bed he beckoned them to come over and pointed at America's boots. "What about them?" England asked hurriedly. China made him come closer so he could see better. "What does this look like to you?" England squinted his eyes, "Are those-" "Yes-they're clasps." The other three nations moved around them, "What are they for?" Canada asked with wide eyes. Before China could even open his mouth Arthur had already began to undo the four clamps and suddenly the bottom of the boot fell off. "What the hell was that why would it-" the four nations froze when they examined the sole. It was filled with nails, cotton, and blood. Arthur looked up shakily at Alfred's socked foot and gagged. It was soaked in blood. Arthur began to feel weak and his legs gave out. France caught him and supported him up.

China went and slipped the whole boot off and then the sock-but of course there were no wounds on the bloody foot. Nations healed instantly-even when they inflicted the wound themselves. Only if they injured themselves to the point where their body could not heal under any circumstances would the wounds remain. Not even scars stayed unless inflicted symbolically by war.

"O-Oh my God-bloody hell- why the fuck would he have bloody nails in his shoes!"

China frowned, "And if there were clasps that means it was both intentional- and changeable". England froze, "What do you mean by changeable?" China walked over to Alfred's enormous walk in closet, "I mean-" his voice suddenly got quiet when he opened the doors, "...that he has more" Canada looked over China's shoulder and gave out a gasp. They were there...but not just them...

Knives ranging from butter knives to kitchen knives hung from the ceiling, sharp and glinting. An ax lay in one corner near a collection of chains and boxes upon boxes of guns. On one side of the closet it was impeccably clean with only a seemingly endless rack of expensive suits and polished dress shoes. On the opposite side was a rack of black. Black, black, black.Goth, punk, and shredded clothes hung from studded silver hangers. Beneath it a collection of black combat boots. And in the very back of the closet was a rack of what Alfred usually wore: his bomber jacket and T-shirts and jeans. Identical boots to the ones he was currently wearing beneath it and some was a huge stack of what looked like bottoms of boots next to them.; cotton and a box full of nails beside it.

Arthur became dizzy and blackness took over.

He woke up in the guestroom beside Alfred's room. His head hurt and images of the closet flooded his brain. He couldn't think straight and his vision was blurry. But he could still hear them. Footsteps. He swung himself out of the bed, staggering slightly, the nations of the world crowding around him. They were all here. Which meant that the footsteps could only belong to one person.

He stumbled into the hall and into Alfred's room and sure enough the bed was empty. He flung open the closet door and froze. In the center of it was man. Was Alfred. But not Alfred. Hedressed in one of the black suits from the rack on the left; he was wearing black dress shoes and he posture was different. It was straighter. His back was turned to Arthur but that soon changed the second he shakily siad his name. The man turned around and gave an over-the-top bow, "Allow me to introduce myself, I-" he looked up mid-bow with a devious smile upon his glasses-less face, "-am Andrew"

Cliff Hanger!