A blood-curdling shriek brought the house to a standstill. Dawn had not broken when Medwyn, after visiting the bathroom, briefly checked in on Cathal and found the country unresponsive. Hearing Wales scream, all members of the house were up and out of bed. America stood outside of his bedroom door, rubbing an eye tiredly while looking to the elders for answers as to what was occurring. "What's going on?" Alfred yawned, raising his arms upwards to stretch. At this point, Arthur approached the child and gently held him in his arms, taking the boy back to bed while whispering reassurances in his ear.
Alistair and Medwyn were corralled at Cathal's bedside. "Cathal, cathal please wake up! Open your eyes brother, please don't go!" Wales wept, while Scotland attempted to perform CPR to bring his sibling back from death's grasp, executing chest compressions despite knowing Cathal was gone. However, something inside of Alistair told him there was a chance Ireland could come back to life and even if it was only the smallest of chances, Alistair wanted to take it with everything he had. Ireland remained motionless in bed, his skin cold to the touch and his eyes, despite being wide open as though he were awake, were devoid of all life.
"Alistair, he's gone..." Medwyn whispered, his bottom lip quivering as he watched Alistair continue his resuscitation efforts despite their futility.
"No, no he isn't!" Scotland barked back.
"Alistair please stop..." Wales placed a hand atop Scotland's, which were locked in the center of Ireland's chest.
"NO THAT'S OUR BROTHER AND I WILL GET HIM BACK!" Alistair roared, his struggle to bring Cathal back into the living world being halted by Medwyn embracing his elder brother from behind, the Welshman burying his head into the Scotsman's back. In that moment, Alistair crumbled. Alistair laid across Cathal and let out a grief-stricken howl, the tears trickling down his face and onto Ireland. Medwyn laid beside Alistair on Cathal's opposite side, stroking the Irishman's hair and closing his brother's eyes. The two brothers, united in their grief, bawled over their brother's corpse.
A short time later Arthur came to the door, having settled Alfred down and successfully sending the child to sleep, gazing at his two older brothers grieving the loss of Ireland. Arthur didn't feel any grief, at least he believed he didn't. Arthur wasn't sure what he was feeling in that moment. Perhaps it was the shock of being faced with his brother's death or the fact the Englishman blocked any sort of accountability for his brother's death that meant he couldn't so much as shed a tear for the Irishman. Alistair, sensing Arthur's presence, bolted upright with a dangerous glint in his eyes. The anger that had been bubbling up in the brunette over time coupled with the intense grief he was experiencing, caused him to blow his top. Before Arthur could so much as blink, he found himself pinned to the ground by Alistair.
"YOU! YOU KILLED OUR BROTHER. THIS IS ON YOU!" Alistair roared, aiming an uppercut at the blond's face followed by a punch that resulted in a crunch from Arthur's nose. Blood started to stream from England's now broken nose, leading to the nation now writhing on the ground underneath Scotland in pain.
"You can't blame me for a famine Alistair- I tried to help!" Arthur attempted to save himself from his elder brother's rage by wriggling out of Scotland's grasp. However, the Scotsman had such tight hold of Arthur that his movements were restricted.
"YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED THIS! YOU DIDN'T DO ENOUGH AND LET HIM DIE. HE'S DEAD! OUR BROTHER IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!" Alistair continually aimed blows at Arthur's face and body, allowing his unfiltered fury to take ahold. Wales remained by Ireland's side, too submerged in sorrow to care what Scotland and England were doing. Medwyn rested his head against Cathal's chest, where his heart was, pleading for the organ to begin operating again so that he could have his brother back. Ireland was gone. It all felt surreal, like all of time had stopped the very moment Cathal drew his last breath.
Suddenly, Medwyn felt one of Cathal's fingers twitch in his hand. Thinking he'd gone mad with grief, Wales simply cried harder and dug his head into his sibling's chest. Only, when he did so, he could hear a faint drumming in the Irishman's chest. This led the nation to sit upright. Surely, he didn't just imagine that, did he? The blond cautiously placed two fingers to Cathal's neck to feel for a pulse. Unbelievably, Medwyn could feel a pulse! It was weak, but it was there. "Cathal? Cathal, can you hear me? Alistair! Alistair!" Wales cried out, shaking his Ireland's shoulder in a desperate attempt to bring Ireland around. Alistair, hearing Medwyn's call, momentarily paused in his beating. "Alistair! He's breathing! He has a pulse! He's back!" Upon hearing this, Scotland did not believe this. The man abandoned a semi-conscious Arthur on the ground and cautiously approached Medwyn. Had his brother lost his mind to grief? Alistair had tried to perform CPR and it did absolutely nothing. Ireland was gone. Yet, as Alistair opened his mouth to console Medwyn assert that their brother was gone, he observed Cathal's abdomen move and his eyelids flicker. Their brother was alive!
The relief that flooded through Scotland brought his to his knees at the Irishman's bedside. It seemed too good to be true. But when Alistair placed a hand to Ireland's face, he felt the passing of air as Cathal took small breaths confirming their brother had made a comeback. Ireland slowly opened his eyes. The world was distorted and the voices around him muffled, but after a few moments to adjust, Cathal could recognise the faces and voices of both Medwyn and Alistair.
"Brother! You're alive! You came back!" Wales held Ireland's hand in his, feeling warmth pool back into the man's body.
"Cathal please don't EVER do that again!" Alistair hugged the man, hiding his face in his shoulder while placing a hand over his brother's heart so that he could reassure himself it was indeed thumping away. Arthur came to on the ground and when he did, much to his horror, he saw Alfred standing beside him. The boy was crying, clutching onto a soft teddy.
"What...happened? Did I...die?" Ireland uttered, his voice barely audible.