Fic: Beyond the Pale (2/9)
Title: Beyond the Pale
Author/Artist: DestinyShiva a.k.a me.
Characters/Pairing: USUK, slight FrUK, slight UKCan. (Mainly England and America, but the G8 + Lithuania + Poland are present too!)
Rating: Chapters 1 - 8... T. Chapters 9... M.
Warnings: Boys love, blood, pretty hardcore yaoi in the last chapter... and France being France.
Summary: Rushing through the streets of London, Arthur tries to leave the horrific argument he had with America/Alfred behind; though danger takes an ominous form. Soon Arthur's blood is spilled and England can only remember one name... Alfred.
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Beyond the Pale (Chapter 2/9)
Alrighty! Chapter two has arisen!
Well, this chapter features from Lithuania's point of view after the accident has happened. Originally I intended this to include a very fun scene with France and England both… but 1. I ran out of time, since I promised this would be posted on a specific day *sweatdrop*, and 2. I quite like the mini-cliff hanger I left at the end.
That scene was extended and added to the third chapter; because I had quite a few funny plans for it 8D.
By the way, the chapter names are based on lines from Sonata Arctica songs… I have no idea why, but I think it's just a nice little tribute to my favourite band 8D. This one is from 'The Boy Who Wanted to Be a Real Puppet' from the album 'Reckoning Night'! Go check it out!
Be Careful of What You Wish For
Toris absorbed a hefty supply of air in a huge inhaling yawn, his eyelids practically dropping off and eyes stinging from strain as he tried quite desperately to cling onto waking consciousness - though almost entirely against his will. There was something overly eerie about Hospitals that made him feel violently uneasy as he lingered in the waiting room.
He didn't know whether it was the fear of dangerous illnesses living in the air, the fear of the ghosts of dead patients trailing through the halls and shouting a vengeful wailing and cursing the souls of the healthy or recovering, or something else that unsettled him (probably because the only times he was in hospital were after Belarus had hugged him a little bit too tight…), but his nerves had not calmed down a single bit since they had arrived at the hospital on the back of the ambulance. Although the Scottish attendant on the other side of his phone conversation (or argument more like) earlier practically promised good treatment for them when they got to the hospital, the reality was nothing less than frightening.
For one, in the ambulance, there were so many people shouting at him to get out of their way, and they had to actually ask to be taken to the hospital with Arthur… it looked like they automatically assumed that Arthur didn't know them, purely because he and Feliks were foreign… England was a far less generous country than he ever first assumed…
Secondly, while Arthur was taken to a doctor somewhere in the Accident and Emergency section of the hospital, he and Feliks were randomly dumped in one of the hospital waiting rooms and told to wait until further notice. The waiting room was… simply disgusting to say the very least; the seats were violently uncomfortable, all plastic of a frankly not amusing ominous blood red colour, and all exactly the wrong shape from the top of your spine all the way to the bottom… as if designed specifically to cause as much physical discomfort as absolutely possible.
The room was also severely cramped together - four rows of the horrible plastic chairs, each row with chairs back to back and consisting of five linked together - and it was crammed full of people. In the whole place, only two seats were not filled with people, and another four people were standing up and looking very annoyed and bothered over in the corners nearest the door.
Toris glanced down at the vacant seat to his right. Why didn't they just sit down next to him, especially when they were pulling those irritable faces and complaining about there being nowhere to sit? It wasn't as if he was ill or anything, unlike a lot of the other people sitting in wait for a doctor to assist them of their meaningless problems.
Not that Toris particularly wanted any of them to sit next to him. During the time they were there, a rather… pompous… old sweaty man had decided to take the seat next to him - squeezing him in between Feliks and the man that he swore had not worn deodorant once since he was born. Toris shuddered at the thought. At least the old man had departed, though Toris couldn't help be bothered by the fact that the old man came after they arrived and got called out before them.
When the hell was "Further notice" supposed to be anyway?
They'd been waiting for over four hours, and not a single thing has happened. Perhaps they had forgotten that they were there?
He wouldn't have doubted it… the receptionist didn't seem to even look up at him when he last tried to enquire why it was taking so long and told him to just go sit back down. It was unbearable how pathetic the service was; even the rest of the people in the waiting room were acting just as edgy as he. He would have gone to enquire again, hopefully releasing some of his pent up nerves with conversation - even if it was heated with his personal irritation… if Feliks had not slumped down on his shoulder and fallen fast asleep. How could he sleep in such an unwelcoming place?
Sure, they had both taken planes from their own countries which is a hassling process for anyone and had therefore been awake for over twenty four hours… but sleeping in a hotel or on the plane back home was something completely different! How could Feliks sleep at all when he knew that he was more worried about Arthur than he? At least Arthur and Feliks had dealt with each other before a little bit in the past… Toris pulled another exasperated expression, and tried badly to shuffle Feliks off of him without waking him.
"…U-Uhm… a Mister… Felix, no… Feliks Lukasie… wicks? Oh, and a Mister Toris Lori…naitis. Are you here?" A very young and surprisingly nervous nurse stepped into the room, holding a clipboard and trying drastically to read the confusing foreign names that were written on her piece of paper. Toris looked up, noticing the very pretty appearance of the young woman, and almost made Feliks's head fall and smack on the now vacant chair when he stood up too fast to the woman's call.
Luckily Toris nudged Feliks enough in his ascent to wake the dozy Pole before he hit his head and got angry - Feliks murmured slightly, quickly realising that Toris had gotten up and immediately followed suit as he rubbed his darkish green eyes. Toris sighed. The woman was very pretty indeed, though of course his heart belonged entirely to his beautiful (and psychotic) Belarus, or Natalia… despite the sheer agony of crunching bones he has to put up with whenever he is anywhere near her and she gets overexcited…
"We're here…"
"Ah! Would you mind coming with me please?" The woman gave them the first look in the eyes that they had received ever since they initially arrived in the hospital. At least there were some people in England that seemed to harbour some sort of compassion.
Feliks continued to stay close to him, becoming extraordinarily wary as they had to push past all the many people who sat with their legs folded and sticking almost intentionally in front of the pathway out; using Toris as a practical human shield and following very quickly in the shadows of his footsteps. As much as he disapproved of Feliks using him as defence and shoving him into the legs of the rather irritable English folks, he had no reason to bat him away or speak out. Feliks was, after all, the only familiarity and comfort he had in the whole hospital.
Toris looked back, realising that as soon as they had gotten up - several of the shady lurking people had literally leapt into the vacant spaces, while those who remained jammed to their sits watched disapprovingly. He had never quite realised how selfish and competitive English people could be when they were worried about themselves, their loved ones, or stressed by the less than calming atmosphere - until now. Toris swore he felt the cooling chill of a nervous sweat drop fell from his forehead as the young nurse escorted Feliks and him outside the overly busy waiting room.
"I'm sorry for the delay... we're seriously busy today. All three of our waiting rooms are completely full, sorry that you had to stay in such a condensed room as well. Now… I just need to confirm… you two are friends of, correct?"
"Totally don't worry about it! The waiting room was like, not bad at all. And yeah, we are!" Feliks practically sung as he appeared from huddling behind Toris as they had escaped. Toris gave Feliks a questionable look. For someone who was usually extremely shy with new people, Feliks was sure acting pretty upbeat. Though maybe the pole was just acting normally, and he was just so tired that he couldn't take notice of what was going on around him with relative accuracy?
"That's good, and sorry if I pronounced your names wrong… It's hard to say European names, please forgive me. Now - I'd like to inform you that Mr. Kirkland has been all stitched up, and has had a blood transfusion to keep him stable. He's already been removed from intensive care and is in a private ward at the moment. According to the doctor that sorted him out, he's woken up… which considering his welfare at the moment is surprising - so you may go visit him if you wish. Oh! And… are you aware of the… uhm…circumstances?"
"That he's got Amnesia? …Yes, we're aware."
"Ah, at least that's something I don't have to explain in detail. Well, I think you'll be pleased to know that it seems likely that the effects will not be absolutely permanent - he knows his name and it doesn't look like normal human behaviour has been hampered. He however doesn't remember anything like where he lives, or how he hurt himself… and it says here that they tried asking him the names of his family and friends, but he cannot remember any of them. Although… apparently he does remember the name 'Alfred'. Does this name mean anything to you?"
"Yeah, we were all totally at his birthday party, before they both had, like, an argument and Arthur went running off!" Toris gave Feliks another pondering look, trying to determine whether it was just because he was so tired from not getting a single bit of sleep for hours and hours and hours on end that was deluding his thought, or whether it really was his fellow nation that was being a little too hyperactive - considering that they had just witnessed a stronger nation than them fall to pieces.
"Ah! So that explains it!"
"Excuse me?" Sighed Toris; interrupting Feliks from speaking and saving himself from having to wonder why both Feliks and the young nurse seemed to be far more upbeat than he could hope to manage in… what? Two in the morning? He just couldn't understand it at all. They were in the worst of places and least pleasurable of conversations. Could Feliks not be serious for once? They were in hospital… for something pretty serious for goodness sake! Once again, he had no will to complain.
"When people are severely upset, it would make sense that one would like to forget - wouldn't it? It's purely speculation, but I think depression is a very large factor in Amnesia… especially for a case like Arthur's. Did you know whether this Alfred person was very important to Mr. Kirkland?"
A sudden thought occurred to him as he accidentally absorbed the young nurse's words in what he was certain was definitely the wrong way. Arthur was never one to talk about his feelings; he was private to the highest degree. An absolute, invincible, British gentleman you could have said. He never let anyone else know what he was thinking, and in a way that was gentlemanly - not bothering others with things that disturbed him alone, keeping to his self out of courtesy.
Sure, it was possible that he was keeping a lot of things to himself and he inevitably hit the very barrier of his limits. It didn't help that his American ally was the one to take the blunt of the blow. Toris knew very well that there was a history there that was very painful - while Alfred spoke of independence in a high light, he had always observed Arthur's deterrence when it came to that subject.
They were always brothers at heart back then - so why were they so secretly hostile now when it seems that they had finally left the past behind? Alfred never seemed to have a problem.
So was it just Arthur who was biased towards Alfred?
Since Lithuania and England had not had much interest in each other in the past, Toris couldn't judge at all. Perhaps, they really were strangers. But… depression? Severely upset? Was this really Arthur she was speaking of? He always was a quite self-righteous person, conjuring some confidence from nowhere… all because his ethnics were determined on the thought of being civil at all times.
England's relationship with America couldn't have been this important to Arthur's mind… could it?
"…Ah…Uh, I wouldn't know something like that. I don't really know Arthur well."
"Oh I'm sorry. Is there any way to bring Alfred down here? If Mr. Kirkland remembers his name, then maybe seeing Alfred will help him a little?"
"No! Ah, I-er mean… since it was his birthday toda-No, yesterday by now - he's still probably out having a good time. It'll be unreasonable to interrupt, wouldn't it? I've called one of Arthur's other friends anyway… they should be here soon. So I think we'll be alright. Thank you." Toris's felt his face completely brighten up with a rather severe embarrassed blush. He was not sure whether the nurse knew just how heated Arthur and Alfred's argument was… but regardless, it was obvious that inviting Alfred down right at that time would be a violently bad idea.
What on earth would they tell him?!
'Oh, hi America… England has bashed out his brains somehow, probably by tripping over, and how he doesn't remember who anyone is - except he remembers your name, isn't that weird? Would you like to come to the most terrifying hospital in the world, ignoring your huge argument with each other, and try to bring the Brit back some sense by explaining to him what a hamburger is? Thanks!'
It was ridiculous… he'd just hang up straight away.
Although, finding someone else to tell was also hard. It never really occurred to him before but, did Arthur really have any good friends? Alfred was practically the furthest reach of his alliance. From what he knew (Feliks was asleep when he was thinking about it)… his relationship with Matthew, Canada, was reasonable - more of an acquaintance than friend.
He and Wang Yao, China, were still bitter with each other about the whole opium deal. Australia and he were allies, purely by Arthur's stubbornness, but not friends. Tino and Berwald, Finland and Sweden, were pretty indifferent; they'd probably come by eventually, but not immediately - same with a lot of the Nordic countries. Honda Kiku and Arthur seemed to have a good, budding relationship… but Lithuania didn't have the shy Japanese man's phone number.
Ludwig and Arthur have been trying badly not to offend each other every since the Second World War. Liechtenstein and Vash left the party before the argument ever happened, and so probably had already gotten home by now. Even Scotland, Wales and Ireland, Arthur's older brothers, picked on him a lot - and his little brother, Peter, declared himself independent and how considers Tino and Berwald his new brothers.
When he thought about it… it seemed oddly clear. Arthur's life was far more hostile than he gave credit for. Did he ever get any comfort, truly, from anyone? It was no wonder that he snapped. Toris sighed. Even he had someone - Feliks - to help him manage through the absolute horror that was dealing with Ivan.
So of course, after much hassling deliberation, he had asked Francis to come. Apart from Alfred, Francis was the only other person he ever saw Arthur with on a regular basis. He was still, however, awaiting the text back…
"…If you are sure sir. Please don't hesitate to ask anyone if you have any queries. His ward is on the third floor - no, second… I always forget to count the ground floor. The stairs are down the hall and to your left."
"Wait!" Just as Toris and the nurse got the courage to dismiss each other's presence, Feliks came out from the blue with the same degree of excitement as before.
"…Sir?"
"Where did you buy your make-up? Is that Rimmel London, oh wait - you English prefer exports right? Rimmel New York? Paris? Your hair looks totally good too! Do you straighten it, or do you just use a really good shampoo?" Feliks randomly threw out his suppressed girlish knowledge of cosmetics and styling at the poor young British girl, to which Toris groaned and wandered off a bit. He hoped, dearly, that Feliks wouldn't mention anything about him being a cross-dresser in his spare time… and that he once managed to persuade him into wearing a pink dress once. The… embarrassment…!
Toris turned around and hit his blushing face, exposing the reddish pigments of his skin to the hospital's white walls alone. A sudden chime came from his pocket in the form of the Lithuanian National Anthem. Finally, Francis had replied to his text…
"…Ah ah… I-I use Garnier…"
"Oh?! You know that some Garnier products are made in Poland? But how do you keep the tips of your hair so vibrant? You colour, right? Oh! And we make some perfumes in Poland too, and-"
An abrupt crash came from behind Feliks; to which the Pole and the nurse peered towards curiously. Toris stood frozen, his hand left ajar - as if holding his mobile phone, when in reality it was empty… because it had slipped straight out and smashed against the floor. The back panel and battery had left the phone, and part of the plastic had noticeably chipped off. Feliks's mouth hung open for a second while he tried to think of something to say.
The atmosphere was suddenly extremely tense. Sensing the disturbance, the young nurse decided it was now to run away and cease Feliks's feminine harassments and get on with her job. Toris was shaking - badly - almost as badly as Arthur when he stood after the injury… Slowly, Toris turned his head, and gave Feliks's a deathly petrified look.
"What happened, Lithuania?"
"R-Russ-Russia… is coming."
(Salut!
Is he alright? Angleterre est obstiné!
We're already there!
Russie is coming too, mon cher!
He says you went without him and that he's trés upset!
See you there!
Adieu!)
If there were ever any time that Toris craved to go absolutely off his nut crazy, running up and down the hospital halls screaming your heart out… now, would have been the time. Not only had Ivan completely changed his mind about letting him go home with Feliks, or at least forgotten about it rather inconveniently, but they were already inside the building.
Toris scrambled over the ground and picked up the pathetic shards of his beloved mobile phone - slaughtered by the ferocity of the dark hearted King of the Kolkhoz and the eternal callous dregs of winter's will. Toris looked down at the deceased bits of metal, glass, and plastic… just like a brother lost forever in battle, cradled in his hands. There were times to mourn the dead; and a time to run for your life… and this time was now.
"Feliks! Let's go, before Russia comes and-!"
"Before Russia comes and what, Lithuania?" An ominously cheery voice sounded from behind him, Feliks's face turned to that of annoyance and total disobedience as said King of the Kolkhoz suddenly appeared from down the hall… his ears sharp as always to cause the maximum amount of misery and discomfort to Toris and his fellow two Baltic nations as physically possible.
The time had come and went.
His life was over.
Goodbye Feliks! Goodbye beautiful Natalia! Ivan… was going to slay him on the spot for leaving him behind. With his brunet hairs standing vibrantly on end and cold shivers representing the cold inhospitable frost of the Russian winter running horribly down his spine, Toris slowly swivelled around on the spot, a look of pure inconceivable dread plastered on his face.
"…R-R-Russia…!"
"Et moi, Lituanie - I hope you didn't forget!" Francis called from behind Ivan's back, a harmonious tune whistling on his lips. For some reason, the man looked far more excitable than usual; a suspiciously deceitful beam on those lips partially hidden behind the obnoxious blond goatee. A similarly shaking duo of countries, matching the degree of fear bestowed in Toris's heart, stood behind Francis as well in the forms of Raivis, Latvia, and Eduard, Estonia. The two shot Toris a devastatingly fearful look as if warning him with all their strength…
"Uhm, no France, of course not… WAIT. I-IS THAT A L-LEAD PIPE?!"
"Da, Lithuania, you noticed." Ivan grinned happily, clutching the long cold spine of bent metal firmly within his hands; the bottom end of the pipe was barely concealed in the confines of Ivan's favourite heavy winter coat. Toris shivered. There was no way that Ivan would have just brought a different pipe in England, just purely for the purpose of ruining his life. Ivan tapped the metal slowly, drawing out every possible negative feeling from Toris with one excruciating slide of the finger.
"Russia… please… why… are you hiding a lead pipe in your coat? Shouldn't customs have detected it in the airport? How could it not have been confiscated by now?!"
"Ah, well… I'm Russia so they didn't bother in the Moscow airport… and they noticed in the English airport, when I ordered you away when you wanted to call Belarus, and they were really angry! But then I gave them a smile and said Latvia was a very very short plumber - and they believed me!"
…No Ivan… I think they must have been so afraid by your evil smile that they didn't want to disturb you…Toris groaned, completely and utterly defeated by Ivan's undeniably murderous and evil aura of devious intent and general desire to cause pain to everyone and everything - despite his sweet, giggly exterior. Ivan was absolutely impossible to deal with; apprehension spread all across Toris's petrified body. Toris looked back to Feliks, absolutely desperate to thief any sort of comfort or defence from the man who used to use him as his own lackey…
"Whatever! Hey Lithuania, have a nice journey home! So anyways, I totally gotta pee right now, so I'm going! And I like, wanna ask that nurse what other make-up she uses! So, like, see ya!"
"P-Pooolaaannnd!"
Why… of all times… did he decide to be so dormant to Ivan, now?! Toris watched every excruciating step that Feliks took as he wandered away into the distance down the hall, past the entrances to the waiting rooms, and finally out the door at the end - his face remained even more devastated and useless as before. A quick shuffle from Ivan made Toris glance up at the incredibly tall Russian with his eyes utterly dead as all possible hope he could have deprived from Feliks had eluded him.
The metallic lead pipe held even firmer in Ivan's gloved hands - hands that were currently performing a gesture that looked just like how Toris imagined wringing a neck would look like (several beads of sweat developed on his forehead) - gave a quick glint reflected from the ceiling lights that blinded his eyes temporarily. He swore he could hear Raivis and Eduard whimper for his sake. Ivan reached forwards and grasped Toris's shoulder in a killer grip.
"Oh. He went. That's good. Da! Lithuania! Why did you leave me?"
"Y-You said I could go home with Poland…"
"Eehhh? I did? I don't remember…! Nyet. You helped England right? I'm glad." Ivan blinked, pretending to remember when it was that he gave such an instruction. The killer grip that was aimed at disconnecting Toris's blood flow tightened dramatically as Ivan talked of Arthur; a violently devastating smirk remained on Ivan's face and his eyes shining peculiar murderous red. Toris felt his body beginning to fall limp and useless under the heavy murderous weight of Ivan's frighteningly evil aura.
"Y-Yes… he was collapsed… we couldn't just have left him, so…"
"Da, you couldn't have just left him, could you? I understand. Eh, anyway, let's go home! I've booked the flights already! Let's go!" Ivan glared at Toris, practically daring him with his eyes as the proposition bet to object and defy him, so he had a real reason to cause him the harm that Toris knew he violently craved. Toris nodded silently, shaking like a falling leaf in the dead of autumn. He couldn't shake off the feeling that Ivan over emphasised the words 'just left him' far too bluntly on purpose.
Toris shot a scared look to his fellow Baltic nations, and a silent plea of help to Francis… who, of course, was too oblivious to notice anything was wrong at all. In fact… for some unknown and inconceivable reason, Francis seemed pleased that they all had left him on his own…
"Ah… well, I'll see L'Angleterre by myself! Adieu! See you at the G8 meeting tomorrow Russie!" The Frenchmen waved off the multitude of nations, finally alone for the first time in the whole evening. The particular glint that Toris noticed in his eyes remained, sharpening as everyone around him had deserted his immediate area. Francis sniggered to himself, and acquired to Arthur's location from a passing nurse.
Now that Arthur had forgotten everything about them all, he could start afresh and rebuild himself in a good image… idiot or not, anyone would be able to fall in the pits of his freshly created plot - even Arthur. Now that silly American was away from Arthur's eyes… he would finally be able to strike and take Arthur for his own!
The French and English alliance would prevail! He only had to make his beautiful first move…!
The Frenchman licked his lips, and wandered up the staircase… heading directly for the second floor…
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No idea how this chapter managed to be devoid of Arthur himself, but... hey. This'll also be the last time anything is told in Lithuania or France's point of view *sighs*. Mostly it'll be England.
Except from the G8 meeting I noted… that's going to be in America's point of view. Please look forward to that bit… America will finally make his appearance then!
It doesn't look much like US x UK yet, but I'm building up to it. For now, I think I'm just enjoying the fact that I'm writing a fan fiction about my most favoured series in the world… and about my favourite character.
Every fangirl squees when their loves are in trouble, right? I went crazy when I watched Episode 48 of Hetalia!
ANYWAY…
Apologies to Russia fans if I made Ivan a little too scary! Ivan is actually my favourite character behind England and France - I do quite like his secretly evil characteristic.
Sorry for the rambling…
Oh!
And sorry if it gets confusing between the whole "Arthur" and "England" style business. Generally, it's human names outside of speech and countries inside of speech. Except from if it's very important… (Like our lovely Ludwig would call Feliciano by his real name if it was something meaningful)… or if a regular person, like the nurse, doesn't know that said character is a country.
Thank you for reading my fan fiction…!
Previous Chapter: [LINK]
Next Chapter: [LINK]
Author/Artist: DestinyShiva a.k.a me.
Characters/Pairing: USUK, slight FrUK, slight UKCan. (Mainly England and America, but the G8 + Lithuania + Poland are present too!)
Rating: Chapters 1 - 8... T. Chapters 9... M.
Warnings: Boys love, blood, pretty hardcore yaoi in the last chapter... and France being France.
Summary: Rushing through the streets of London, Arthur tries to leave the horrific argument he had with America/Alfred behind; though danger takes an ominous form. Soon Arthur's blood is spilled and England can only remember one name... Alfred.
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Beyond the Pale (Chapter 2/9)
Alrighty! Chapter two has arisen!
Well, this chapter features from Lithuania's point of view after the accident has happened. Originally I intended this to include a very fun scene with France and England both… but 1. I ran out of time, since I promised this would be posted on a specific day *sweatdrop*, and 2. I quite like the mini-cliff hanger I left at the end.
That scene was extended and added to the third chapter; because I had quite a few funny plans for it 8D.
By the way, the chapter names are based on lines from Sonata Arctica songs… I have no idea why, but I think it's just a nice little tribute to my favourite band 8D. This one is from 'The Boy Who Wanted to Be a Real Puppet' from the album 'Reckoning Night'! Go check it out!
Be Careful of What You Wish For
Toris absorbed a hefty supply of air in a huge inhaling yawn, his eyelids practically dropping off and eyes stinging from strain as he tried quite desperately to cling onto waking consciousness - though almost entirely against his will. There was something overly eerie about Hospitals that made him feel violently uneasy as he lingered in the waiting room.
He didn't know whether it was the fear of dangerous illnesses living in the air, the fear of the ghosts of dead patients trailing through the halls and shouting a vengeful wailing and cursing the souls of the healthy or recovering, or something else that unsettled him (probably because the only times he was in hospital were after Belarus had hugged him a little bit too tight…), but his nerves had not calmed down a single bit since they had arrived at the hospital on the back of the ambulance. Although the Scottish attendant on the other side of his phone conversation (or argument more like) earlier practically promised good treatment for them when they got to the hospital, the reality was nothing less than frightening.
For one, in the ambulance, there were so many people shouting at him to get out of their way, and they had to actually ask to be taken to the hospital with Arthur… it looked like they automatically assumed that Arthur didn't know them, purely because he and Feliks were foreign… England was a far less generous country than he ever first assumed…
Secondly, while Arthur was taken to a doctor somewhere in the Accident and Emergency section of the hospital, he and Feliks were randomly dumped in one of the hospital waiting rooms and told to wait until further notice. The waiting room was… simply disgusting to say the very least; the seats were violently uncomfortable, all plastic of a frankly not amusing ominous blood red colour, and all exactly the wrong shape from the top of your spine all the way to the bottom… as if designed specifically to cause as much physical discomfort as absolutely possible.
The room was also severely cramped together - four rows of the horrible plastic chairs, each row with chairs back to back and consisting of five linked together - and it was crammed full of people. In the whole place, only two seats were not filled with people, and another four people were standing up and looking very annoyed and bothered over in the corners nearest the door.
Toris glanced down at the vacant seat to his right. Why didn't they just sit down next to him, especially when they were pulling those irritable faces and complaining about there being nowhere to sit? It wasn't as if he was ill or anything, unlike a lot of the other people sitting in wait for a doctor to assist them of their meaningless problems.
Not that Toris particularly wanted any of them to sit next to him. During the time they were there, a rather… pompous… old sweaty man had decided to take the seat next to him - squeezing him in between Feliks and the man that he swore had not worn deodorant once since he was born. Toris shuddered at the thought. At least the old man had departed, though Toris couldn't help be bothered by the fact that the old man came after they arrived and got called out before them.
When the hell was "Further notice" supposed to be anyway?
They'd been waiting for over four hours, and not a single thing has happened. Perhaps they had forgotten that they were there?
He wouldn't have doubted it… the receptionist didn't seem to even look up at him when he last tried to enquire why it was taking so long and told him to just go sit back down. It was unbearable how pathetic the service was; even the rest of the people in the waiting room were acting just as edgy as he. He would have gone to enquire again, hopefully releasing some of his pent up nerves with conversation - even if it was heated with his personal irritation… if Feliks had not slumped down on his shoulder and fallen fast asleep. How could he sleep in such an unwelcoming place?
Sure, they had both taken planes from their own countries which is a hassling process for anyone and had therefore been awake for over twenty four hours… but sleeping in a hotel or on the plane back home was something completely different! How could Feliks sleep at all when he knew that he was more worried about Arthur than he? At least Arthur and Feliks had dealt with each other before a little bit in the past… Toris pulled another exasperated expression, and tried badly to shuffle Feliks off of him without waking him.
"…U-Uhm… a Mister… Felix, no… Feliks Lukasie… wicks? Oh, and a Mister Toris Lori…naitis. Are you here?" A very young and surprisingly nervous nurse stepped into the room, holding a clipboard and trying drastically to read the confusing foreign names that were written on her piece of paper. Toris looked up, noticing the very pretty appearance of the young woman, and almost made Feliks's head fall and smack on the now vacant chair when he stood up too fast to the woman's call.
Luckily Toris nudged Feliks enough in his ascent to wake the dozy Pole before he hit his head and got angry - Feliks murmured slightly, quickly realising that Toris had gotten up and immediately followed suit as he rubbed his darkish green eyes. Toris sighed. The woman was very pretty indeed, though of course his heart belonged entirely to his beautiful (and psychotic) Belarus, or Natalia… despite the sheer agony of crunching bones he has to put up with whenever he is anywhere near her and she gets overexcited…
"We're here…"
"Ah! Would you mind coming with me please?" The woman gave them the first look in the eyes that they had received ever since they initially arrived in the hospital. At least there were some people in England that seemed to harbour some sort of compassion.
Feliks continued to stay close to him, becoming extraordinarily wary as they had to push past all the many people who sat with their legs folded and sticking almost intentionally in front of the pathway out; using Toris as a practical human shield and following very quickly in the shadows of his footsteps. As much as he disapproved of Feliks using him as defence and shoving him into the legs of the rather irritable English folks, he had no reason to bat him away or speak out. Feliks was, after all, the only familiarity and comfort he had in the whole hospital.
Toris looked back, realising that as soon as they had gotten up - several of the shady lurking people had literally leapt into the vacant spaces, while those who remained jammed to their sits watched disapprovingly. He had never quite realised how selfish and competitive English people could be when they were worried about themselves, their loved ones, or stressed by the less than calming atmosphere - until now. Toris swore he felt the cooling chill of a nervous sweat drop fell from his forehead as the young nurse escorted Feliks and him outside the overly busy waiting room.
"I'm sorry for the delay... we're seriously busy today. All three of our waiting rooms are completely full, sorry that you had to stay in such a condensed room as well. Now… I just need to confirm… you two are friends of, correct?"
"Totally don't worry about it! The waiting room was like, not bad at all. And yeah, we are!" Feliks practically sung as he appeared from huddling behind Toris as they had escaped. Toris gave Feliks a questionable look. For someone who was usually extremely shy with new people, Feliks was sure acting pretty upbeat. Though maybe the pole was just acting normally, and he was just so tired that he couldn't take notice of what was going on around him with relative accuracy?
"That's good, and sorry if I pronounced your names wrong… It's hard to say European names, please forgive me. Now - I'd like to inform you that Mr. Kirkland has been all stitched up, and has had a blood transfusion to keep him stable. He's already been removed from intensive care and is in a private ward at the moment. According to the doctor that sorted him out, he's woken up… which considering his welfare at the moment is surprising - so you may go visit him if you wish. Oh! And… are you aware of the… uhm…circumstances?"
"That he's got Amnesia? …Yes, we're aware."
"Ah, at least that's something I don't have to explain in detail. Well, I think you'll be pleased to know that it seems likely that the effects will not be absolutely permanent - he knows his name and it doesn't look like normal human behaviour has been hampered. He however doesn't remember anything like where he lives, or how he hurt himself… and it says here that they tried asking him the names of his family and friends, but he cannot remember any of them. Although… apparently he does remember the name 'Alfred'. Does this name mean anything to you?"
"Yeah, we were all totally at his birthday party, before they both had, like, an argument and Arthur went running off!" Toris gave Feliks another pondering look, trying to determine whether it was just because he was so tired from not getting a single bit of sleep for hours and hours and hours on end that was deluding his thought, or whether it really was his fellow nation that was being a little too hyperactive - considering that they had just witnessed a stronger nation than them fall to pieces.
"Ah! So that explains it!"
"Excuse me?" Sighed Toris; interrupting Feliks from speaking and saving himself from having to wonder why both Feliks and the young nurse seemed to be far more upbeat than he could hope to manage in… what? Two in the morning? He just couldn't understand it at all. They were in the worst of places and least pleasurable of conversations. Could Feliks not be serious for once? They were in hospital… for something pretty serious for goodness sake! Once again, he had no will to complain.
"When people are severely upset, it would make sense that one would like to forget - wouldn't it? It's purely speculation, but I think depression is a very large factor in Amnesia… especially for a case like Arthur's. Did you know whether this Alfred person was very important to Mr. Kirkland?"
A sudden thought occurred to him as he accidentally absorbed the young nurse's words in what he was certain was definitely the wrong way. Arthur was never one to talk about his feelings; he was private to the highest degree. An absolute, invincible, British gentleman you could have said. He never let anyone else know what he was thinking, and in a way that was gentlemanly - not bothering others with things that disturbed him alone, keeping to his self out of courtesy.
Sure, it was possible that he was keeping a lot of things to himself and he inevitably hit the very barrier of his limits. It didn't help that his American ally was the one to take the blunt of the blow. Toris knew very well that there was a history there that was very painful - while Alfred spoke of independence in a high light, he had always observed Arthur's deterrence when it came to that subject.
They were always brothers at heart back then - so why were they so secretly hostile now when it seems that they had finally left the past behind? Alfred never seemed to have a problem.
So was it just Arthur who was biased towards Alfred?
Since Lithuania and England had not had much interest in each other in the past, Toris couldn't judge at all. Perhaps, they really were strangers. But… depression? Severely upset? Was this really Arthur she was speaking of? He always was a quite self-righteous person, conjuring some confidence from nowhere… all because his ethnics were determined on the thought of being civil at all times.
England's relationship with America couldn't have been this important to Arthur's mind… could it?
"…Ah…Uh, I wouldn't know something like that. I don't really know Arthur well."
"Oh I'm sorry. Is there any way to bring Alfred down here? If Mr. Kirkland remembers his name, then maybe seeing Alfred will help him a little?"
"No! Ah, I-er mean… since it was his birthday toda-No, yesterday by now - he's still probably out having a good time. It'll be unreasonable to interrupt, wouldn't it? I've called one of Arthur's other friends anyway… they should be here soon. So I think we'll be alright. Thank you." Toris's felt his face completely brighten up with a rather severe embarrassed blush. He was not sure whether the nurse knew just how heated Arthur and Alfred's argument was… but regardless, it was obvious that inviting Alfred down right at that time would be a violently bad idea.
What on earth would they tell him?!
'Oh, hi America… England has bashed out his brains somehow, probably by tripping over, and how he doesn't remember who anyone is - except he remembers your name, isn't that weird? Would you like to come to the most terrifying hospital in the world, ignoring your huge argument with each other, and try to bring the Brit back some sense by explaining to him what a hamburger is? Thanks!'
It was ridiculous… he'd just hang up straight away.
Although, finding someone else to tell was also hard. It never really occurred to him before but, did Arthur really have any good friends? Alfred was practically the furthest reach of his alliance. From what he knew (Feliks was asleep when he was thinking about it)… his relationship with Matthew, Canada, was reasonable - more of an acquaintance than friend.
He and Wang Yao, China, were still bitter with each other about the whole opium deal. Australia and he were allies, purely by Arthur's stubbornness, but not friends. Tino and Berwald, Finland and Sweden, were pretty indifferent; they'd probably come by eventually, but not immediately - same with a lot of the Nordic countries. Honda Kiku and Arthur seemed to have a good, budding relationship… but Lithuania didn't have the shy Japanese man's phone number.
Ludwig and Arthur have been trying badly not to offend each other every since the Second World War. Liechtenstein and Vash left the party before the argument ever happened, and so probably had already gotten home by now. Even Scotland, Wales and Ireland, Arthur's older brothers, picked on him a lot - and his little brother, Peter, declared himself independent and how considers Tino and Berwald his new brothers.
When he thought about it… it seemed oddly clear. Arthur's life was far more hostile than he gave credit for. Did he ever get any comfort, truly, from anyone? It was no wonder that he snapped. Toris sighed. Even he had someone - Feliks - to help him manage through the absolute horror that was dealing with Ivan.
So of course, after much hassling deliberation, he had asked Francis to come. Apart from Alfred, Francis was the only other person he ever saw Arthur with on a regular basis. He was still, however, awaiting the text back…
"…If you are sure sir. Please don't hesitate to ask anyone if you have any queries. His ward is on the third floor - no, second… I always forget to count the ground floor. The stairs are down the hall and to your left."
"Wait!" Just as Toris and the nurse got the courage to dismiss each other's presence, Feliks came out from the blue with the same degree of excitement as before.
"…Sir?"
"Where did you buy your make-up? Is that Rimmel London, oh wait - you English prefer exports right? Rimmel New York? Paris? Your hair looks totally good too! Do you straighten it, or do you just use a really good shampoo?" Feliks randomly threw out his suppressed girlish knowledge of cosmetics and styling at the poor young British girl, to which Toris groaned and wandered off a bit. He hoped, dearly, that Feliks wouldn't mention anything about him being a cross-dresser in his spare time… and that he once managed to persuade him into wearing a pink dress once. The… embarrassment…!
Toris turned around and hit his blushing face, exposing the reddish pigments of his skin to the hospital's white walls alone. A sudden chime came from his pocket in the form of the Lithuanian National Anthem. Finally, Francis had replied to his text…
"…Ah ah… I-I use Garnier…"
"Oh?! You know that some Garnier products are made in Poland? But how do you keep the tips of your hair so vibrant? You colour, right? Oh! And we make some perfumes in Poland too, and-"
An abrupt crash came from behind Feliks; to which the Pole and the nurse peered towards curiously. Toris stood frozen, his hand left ajar - as if holding his mobile phone, when in reality it was empty… because it had slipped straight out and smashed against the floor. The back panel and battery had left the phone, and part of the plastic had noticeably chipped off. Feliks's mouth hung open for a second while he tried to think of something to say.
The atmosphere was suddenly extremely tense. Sensing the disturbance, the young nurse decided it was now to run away and cease Feliks's feminine harassments and get on with her job. Toris was shaking - badly - almost as badly as Arthur when he stood after the injury… Slowly, Toris turned his head, and gave Feliks's a deathly petrified look.
"What happened, Lithuania?"
"R-Russ-Russia… is coming."
(Salut!
Is he alright? Angleterre est obstiné!
We're already there!
Russie is coming too, mon cher!
He says you went without him and that he's trés upset!
See you there!
Adieu!)
If there were ever any time that Toris craved to go absolutely off his nut crazy, running up and down the hospital halls screaming your heart out… now, would have been the time. Not only had Ivan completely changed his mind about letting him go home with Feliks, or at least forgotten about it rather inconveniently, but they were already inside the building.
Toris scrambled over the ground and picked up the pathetic shards of his beloved mobile phone - slaughtered by the ferocity of the dark hearted King of the Kolkhoz and the eternal callous dregs of winter's will. Toris looked down at the deceased bits of metal, glass, and plastic… just like a brother lost forever in battle, cradled in his hands. There were times to mourn the dead; and a time to run for your life… and this time was now.
"Feliks! Let's go, before Russia comes and-!"
"Before Russia comes and what, Lithuania?" An ominously cheery voice sounded from behind him, Feliks's face turned to that of annoyance and total disobedience as said King of the Kolkhoz suddenly appeared from down the hall… his ears sharp as always to cause the maximum amount of misery and discomfort to Toris and his fellow two Baltic nations as physically possible.
The time had come and went.
His life was over.
Goodbye Feliks! Goodbye beautiful Natalia! Ivan… was going to slay him on the spot for leaving him behind. With his brunet hairs standing vibrantly on end and cold shivers representing the cold inhospitable frost of the Russian winter running horribly down his spine, Toris slowly swivelled around on the spot, a look of pure inconceivable dread plastered on his face.
"…R-R-Russia…!"
"Et moi, Lituanie - I hope you didn't forget!" Francis called from behind Ivan's back, a harmonious tune whistling on his lips. For some reason, the man looked far more excitable than usual; a suspiciously deceitful beam on those lips partially hidden behind the obnoxious blond goatee. A similarly shaking duo of countries, matching the degree of fear bestowed in Toris's heart, stood behind Francis as well in the forms of Raivis, Latvia, and Eduard, Estonia. The two shot Toris a devastatingly fearful look as if warning him with all their strength…
"Uhm, no France, of course not… WAIT. I-IS THAT A L-LEAD PIPE?!"
"Da, Lithuania, you noticed." Ivan grinned happily, clutching the long cold spine of bent metal firmly within his hands; the bottom end of the pipe was barely concealed in the confines of Ivan's favourite heavy winter coat. Toris shivered. There was no way that Ivan would have just brought a different pipe in England, just purely for the purpose of ruining his life. Ivan tapped the metal slowly, drawing out every possible negative feeling from Toris with one excruciating slide of the finger.
"Russia… please… why… are you hiding a lead pipe in your coat? Shouldn't customs have detected it in the airport? How could it not have been confiscated by now?!"
"Ah, well… I'm Russia so they didn't bother in the Moscow airport… and they noticed in the English airport, when I ordered you away when you wanted to call Belarus, and they were really angry! But then I gave them a smile and said Latvia was a very very short plumber - and they believed me!"
…No Ivan… I think they must have been so afraid by your evil smile that they didn't want to disturb you…Toris groaned, completely and utterly defeated by Ivan's undeniably murderous and evil aura of devious intent and general desire to cause pain to everyone and everything - despite his sweet, giggly exterior. Ivan was absolutely impossible to deal with; apprehension spread all across Toris's petrified body. Toris looked back to Feliks, absolutely desperate to thief any sort of comfort or defence from the man who used to use him as his own lackey…
"Whatever! Hey Lithuania, have a nice journey home! So anyways, I totally gotta pee right now, so I'm going! And I like, wanna ask that nurse what other make-up she uses! So, like, see ya!"
"P-Pooolaaannnd!"
Why… of all times… did he decide to be so dormant to Ivan, now?! Toris watched every excruciating step that Feliks took as he wandered away into the distance down the hall, past the entrances to the waiting rooms, and finally out the door at the end - his face remained even more devastated and useless as before. A quick shuffle from Ivan made Toris glance up at the incredibly tall Russian with his eyes utterly dead as all possible hope he could have deprived from Feliks had eluded him.
The metallic lead pipe held even firmer in Ivan's gloved hands - hands that were currently performing a gesture that looked just like how Toris imagined wringing a neck would look like (several beads of sweat developed on his forehead) - gave a quick glint reflected from the ceiling lights that blinded his eyes temporarily. He swore he could hear Raivis and Eduard whimper for his sake. Ivan reached forwards and grasped Toris's shoulder in a killer grip.
"Oh. He went. That's good. Da! Lithuania! Why did you leave me?"
"Y-You said I could go home with Poland…"
"Eehhh? I did? I don't remember…! Nyet. You helped England right? I'm glad." Ivan blinked, pretending to remember when it was that he gave such an instruction. The killer grip that was aimed at disconnecting Toris's blood flow tightened dramatically as Ivan talked of Arthur; a violently devastating smirk remained on Ivan's face and his eyes shining peculiar murderous red. Toris felt his body beginning to fall limp and useless under the heavy murderous weight of Ivan's frighteningly evil aura.
"Y-Yes… he was collapsed… we couldn't just have left him, so…"
"Da, you couldn't have just left him, could you? I understand. Eh, anyway, let's go home! I've booked the flights already! Let's go!" Ivan glared at Toris, practically daring him with his eyes as the proposition bet to object and defy him, so he had a real reason to cause him the harm that Toris knew he violently craved. Toris nodded silently, shaking like a falling leaf in the dead of autumn. He couldn't shake off the feeling that Ivan over emphasised the words 'just left him' far too bluntly on purpose.
Toris shot a scared look to his fellow Baltic nations, and a silent plea of help to Francis… who, of course, was too oblivious to notice anything was wrong at all. In fact… for some unknown and inconceivable reason, Francis seemed pleased that they all had left him on his own…
"Ah… well, I'll see L'Angleterre by myself! Adieu! See you at the G8 meeting tomorrow Russie!" The Frenchmen waved off the multitude of nations, finally alone for the first time in the whole evening. The particular glint that Toris noticed in his eyes remained, sharpening as everyone around him had deserted his immediate area. Francis sniggered to himself, and acquired to Arthur's location from a passing nurse.
Now that Arthur had forgotten everything about them all, he could start afresh and rebuild himself in a good image… idiot or not, anyone would be able to fall in the pits of his freshly created plot - even Arthur. Now that silly American was away from Arthur's eyes… he would finally be able to strike and take Arthur for his own!
The French and English alliance would prevail! He only had to make his beautiful first move…!
The Frenchman licked his lips, and wandered up the staircase… heading directly for the second floor…
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No idea how this chapter managed to be devoid of Arthur himself, but... hey. This'll also be the last time anything is told in Lithuania or France's point of view *sighs*. Mostly it'll be England.
Except from the G8 meeting I noted… that's going to be in America's point of view. Please look forward to that bit… America will finally make his appearance then!
It doesn't look much like US x UK yet, but I'm building up to it. For now, I think I'm just enjoying the fact that I'm writing a fan fiction about my most favoured series in the world… and about my favourite character.
Every fangirl squees when their loves are in trouble, right? I went crazy when I watched Episode 48 of Hetalia!
ANYWAY…
Apologies to Russia fans if I made Ivan a little too scary! Ivan is actually my favourite character behind England and France - I do quite like his secretly evil characteristic.
Sorry for the rambling…
Oh!
And sorry if it gets confusing between the whole "Arthur" and "England" style business. Generally, it's human names outside of speech and countries inside of speech. Except from if it's very important… (Like our lovely Ludwig would call Feliciano by his real name if it was something meaningful)… or if a regular person, like the nurse, doesn't know that said character is a country.
Thank you for reading my fan fiction…!
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