Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED
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"Oh? What is it?" America blinked, pushing his glasses up.
"I'm wondering why you're here so early." He said, taking his seat now. The two nations were on different sides, practically at a diagonal angle from each other. They could, however, easily look at the other.
"Oh." Alfred said, blinking, and shrugged. "No real reason, anyway. I woke up early, and had some time to kill, so I decided to get here early." He shrugged. Japan blinked.
"Really? Because you don't look well-rested." He simply said. Shit. Alfred forgot about his bags.
"Well, I dunno." He shrugged. Japan was still skeptical, however.
"America-san... what's wrong?" He asked, sounding a little concerned. Alfred played confused.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what's wrong? You're not acting like yourself." He sighed. Alfred swallowed.
"Nothing's wrong. I think you might be imagining things, Japan." He barked a small awkward laugh. Japan sighed.
"Very well then. Just remember that everyone recognizes and respects you, America-san." He simply responded, sounding worried, as Alfred blinked, confused, shocked, and a little amazed. How did Japan know what was wrong with him? He laughed a little.
"Why would I worry about that, anyway? After all, they should respect me; I AM a hero!" Alfred happily shouted, smiling, faking. Japan gave him a weak smile.
"Very well." Was all he said, as Kiku turned away to look outside. Alfred sighed, putting his feet back up on the table, hands back behind his head, and returned to thinking, a frown on his face.
Japan looked away from the windows to look at Alfred, a concerned expression on. He inaudibly sighed, and returned to looking out the window, no longer talking.
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I personally think it could have a lot of things edited to make it better, but I'm kinda proud of it myself! ^^
I just wish it didn't take me a day just to find inspiration to write the next part. Dx That I can live without.
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Many thanks, Anon! *hug*
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After he left, the countries returned to their chatter, most of it being about the major recession or immigration problems; things that Canada should be worried about, instead of his brother.
Without a word and without raising alarm, Canada stood from his seat, leaving his polar bear on his seat, telling him to stay quiet and stay put, and followed after Alfred.
Thankfully, Alfred wasn't too far from the meeting room doors, as Canada was easily able to catch up to his brother.
"Alfred!" He cried, running after his brother. He didn't react until Canada was right behind him, out of breath. "Alfred, can we talk...?" Canada asked, swallowing to feel saliva cover his throat once more. America spun to face Canada, bags behind his glasses prominent.
"Uh, sure? What is it?" He asked, putting his hands into his jacket pockets. Canada swallowed once more, wishing he still had his polar bear to hold on to.
"I, uh... I uh, was wondering..." Matthew stuttered, getting his breath back now, as America blinked, a blank expression on. Matthew sighed, trying again. He looked up at his brother, his expression more solid, more certain now. America was taken aback a little by his younger brother's shift of attitude.
"I know what you're doing."
America blinked, a little confused. "Whaddya mean, you know what I'm doing?" He asked, trying to sound oblivious. Oh shit. How did Canada know? He thought that it was kept under wraps! The superpower tried his best not to show the panic he felt inside.
Canada scowled. "You know what I'm talking about, Alfred, don't you dare play dumb on me." He sternly said, trying not to raise his voice, what with the meeting still going on in the other room. The small nation tried his best to keep his glare on his brother, whose expression failed to change. The panic, however, was still clear in his eyes, despite him trying to keep it under control.
"No... I... I really don't know." America stuttered, trying to swallow his fright down. It failed; the panic was still there. Canada smirked.
"Oh? If you have nothing to hide, then why are you scared?" He asked smugly. America glared at his brother, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms, looking away.
"Pft. What does it have to do with you, anyway?" He asked, looking away from his brother, hoping it'll hide some of his panic. It failed.
"Alfred, you're my BROTHER; we're blood for Christ's sake!" He said, sounding a little hurt. America looked at Canada out of the corner of his eyes. He continued.
"Even if you think no one knows about what's going on with you, I do. I can tell when something's on your mind, Alfred." Matthew swallowed a lump past his throat. Alfred positioned his body back at Canada, annoyance glazed in his eyes.
"Matthew, look; even if you know what I'm doing, even if you know the consequences as well as I do, you don't need to tell anyone. I can deal with it myself; hell if I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't." He scowled voice hard and firm, as Matthew blinked at his brother's voice, shocked.
Before he could respond, America was walking away. "Alfred!" He shouted, annoyed, and caught up with is brother, who appeared to be ignoring him. "Where are you going?"
"Home. Tell everyone that I was sick or something. Make something up." He shrugged. Canada looked at his brother as if he were insane.
"What?! I'm not gonna make any excuses for you! And God help me, I will make you te--" America spun around to face his brother, cutting him off before he could finish.
"Oh, please enlighten me, Matt; HOW do you suspect that you'll make me tell them?!" He demanded, raising his voice. Matthew froze for a second, stunned by his volume, and returned the shouts.
"I don't know, but goddammit Al, I will make you tell them!" He shouted. Alfred raised his arms in the air, obviously aggravated.
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"Look Matthew! Whatever the hell I do with my body is none of your fucking business! It isn't anyone's, except for mine, okay?!" He shouted, and turned around again. Matthew was practically shaking with anger. He shouted back at Alfred before he could take a step away.
"For some reason, I'm not fucking surprised for this coming from Mr. Bigshot Hero himself!" He shouted.
Something clicked in Alfred's mind, something concerning anger. He spun on his ankles and slapped Matthew right across the face. Matthew remained with his head turned to the side, shocked. Did... Did Alfred just... Slap him? He looked back at Alfred, eyes having a mix of confused, fury and worry in them. Alfred met his look with a cold, angered, and depressed, glare.
"Don't you fucking dare call me a hero." He said, hearing his own voice quiver, and spun once more on his heels. Before he walked away, he muttered something under his breath, feeling a tear line itself on his cheek. The door leading to the meeting room opened, as the two heard footsteps.
"I'm no hero." Alfred muttered, and walked away, Canada left there to gather what the hell just happened. The hallway held a deathly silence, refusing to let it go, as Alfred rounded the corner, disappearing from sight.
The next form of life was when France and UK broke out from the group of nations at the door to their son.
"Mathieu, are you okay?!"
"Matthew what the hell happened?"
A few of the other nations began talking amongst themselves, not sure what to do, as England whipped his head towards them.
"The meeting is postponed!"
"But wait a sec; you can't postpone the meeting because America slapped Canada aru!" China shouted, annoyed now.
"I know. Me and France need to talk to America, though, and finding him'll take a while, so we need to postpone." England tried to explain, holding one of Canada's arms while France held the other. Canada was still a little light-headed at this point, unsure what to say, more less think.
"Aww... Okay then..." Italy whined, and looked up at Germany, smiling. "Ne ne Doitsu, let's go back home and I can make some pasta." He happily said, as Germany sighed aggravatingly, rubbing his temples now.
"Sure Italy, why don't we go now...?" He sighed, as the rest of the nations began to disband and wander off to their homes, just about each of them annoyed.
Meanwhile, Canada was still silent, still feeling the sting against his cheek, still having the ring in his ears from his and Alfred's shouts, and still having the unexplainable feeling of hurt when he hears America speak before he left.
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Kehehehehehehe, I've had that fight scene typed out for so long.... .A.
*ahem* But yeah.
We're about in the middle, I would say...
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Cant wait for the next part anon!
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Those three simple words rung in Matthew's mind since the meeting was called off, which was about 5 or so hours ago. Since France and England helped him back to his home (Canada was still shell-shocked around this time) that phrase was the only thing present in his mind.
And to top it off, it was being said in Alfred's voice, making it much deeper than it should.
Despite it originally being a whisper, a mutter under his breath, it left so much of an impact--too much of an impact, actually, for the nation, so much so that he was stunned into a silence, almost not registering everyone. 1
He still was in shock; all he'd been doing today, after being helped home, was staring up at his ceiling tile on his bed.
But as a fair point, the tile had an interesting design; the marks pointing out formed such amazing swirls, so amazing that he eventually found himself in a jungle-type area, being sucked in by quicksand, being spun around and around more times than he could remember, calling out for someone--anyone--to help, holding his arm out, trying to grab a branch, failing to, seeing a silhouette of Alfred with his back to him, feel--
Before Canada's mind could wander any further, his own gasps of air snapped him out of his own trance. He sat up, blinking, feeling water spill from his eyes. Was he...? Before he could finish his mental question, Matthew wiped his eyes, sobbing once more and began kicking himself in his head. Goddamnit Matthew! Stop crying!
With a final shaky sob, Matthew swallowed and swung over to the side of his bed, where he could sit and think like a man.
What was Canada gonna do? All the nations thought that America had gone violent and were suddenly looking at Canada and treating him as if he were a third-world country.
Honestly, Canada just wanted to shout at them, shout that he wasn't the one who needed help; it was the man they see as a menace, the man who would clear anyone who opposed him out of his way--
Something clicked. Could Alfred be doing this out of spite towards everyone? Could he be doing it because he didn't want to hear anything else said about him behind his back?
Before the Canadian knew, he was bursting out of his house and towards America's, his mind set on trying to talk to his brother. As he was walking, his mind began playing a script for when he would finally get in.
More lines than he could handle began popping in as he (kid of) stormed to Alfred‘s home: 'America what you're doing is retarded!' No no, he couldn't say that in his brother's time of need; he'd be an asshole.
What about: 'Alfred you have got to stop this; think about everyone else.' Hmm, while it seemed decent, he knew Alfred would just respond saying 'Who cares about me?' or something along those lines.
Hmmm... Well, he could always just make it up on the spot, like how Alfred usually does--Er, did. And with that thought came a small sigh of exhaustion and disappointment, thinking of Alfred now. It's been happening for a while actually, despite how much Canada tried to not let it be that way.
As soon as Matthew reached America's home (his scripts rejected, finding some way to flaw them), the first thing he noticed was that none of the lights were on. Huh. Odd. Canada double-checked his watch. 8:00 pm. Weird. By now, every light in Alfred's home would be on, and Canada would be scowling, somewhat aggravated that his brother would leave every light on.
Maybe it was no big de--Stop it, Matt. Stop trying to act like nothing is going on. Alfred is doing God knows what, and no one knows. Canada's vision blurred, but returned to focus the second he realized what was going on with his bodily fluids. 2
He gulped and knocked at the door. "Al? You there?" He asked, soft enough to signify that it was Canada, but loud enough to be heard.
5 minutes came and went. No reply. Matthew frowned, and turned the knob, to see if Alfred was there.
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Pushing the door opened, he found that the living room was still. Practically deathly still. He glanced over at the couch area, and found the cups that Alfred had left out last time Matthew was over to be friendly. Next thing he saw was Alfred's smiling face in front of him, feeling the softness of the couch, the smooth feel of the mug in his hands.
Swallowing back the better memories (and the approaching tears), Canada pressed on, calling out his brother's name every once in a while hesitantly. Honestly, Matthew wondered, why am I still going? I've seen this in movies a bunch of times; I go in the house, I call out for someone's name and next thing I know, a masked killer is chasing me with a chainsaw. It happened every time! But despite how loudly his mind was shouting at his legs to stop moving, for them to turn around and run like hell, he couldn't.
Climbing the stairs, gulping his fright to be distributed to his whole body, he reached the second floor looking hesitantly at the hallway, analyzing it for anything out of the ordinary.
Sadly, nothing struck out.
With a twinge of disappointment, he continued, stopping near America's door. An eerie aura, one that Matthew couldn't put his finger on, engulfed the room and everything in its vicinity. It gave Canada goose bumps.
C'mone, he thought in panic to himself. You don't really wanna know what's happening do you? You know that feeling! Do you honestly wanna be part of it? That part held a strong point; he'd rather not deal with that area right now, and would much rather go back home and pretend it never happened.
But, argued another part, Alfred's missing, and I know that he's in the house. The door was unlocked! Where else would he be but there?! Besides, what if Alfred's hurt? How could I live with myself if Alfred was in the room and I never checked to see if he was okay?!
That side held a much stronger point. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open ready to bolt for anything in a millisecond.
Ahahaha, sorry for stopping at a suspenseful place. |D I kinda needed to.
NOTES:
1: If anyone has seen Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni Kai, episode 5 specifically, when Satoko is in the hospital and Ooshi tries to interrogate her but she doesn't respond, that's what I was talking about with Canada in that part, only watered down to that day. Sorry if I was being unclear. ^^;
2: If anyone had a perverted thought, I swear to God I will sock you in the nose. D:<
reCATCHA: Misero invading. Hello, irony? Is that you knocking?
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But you already know what's going to happen.
Sorry for the late response
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But I DO hafta admit, wonderful guesses, and I wanna tell you what's gonna happen but I don't wanna ruin it. Yay cop-outs. |DDDD;;;;
And of course I would know what'll happen next; it'd be kinda funny if I didn't know. XDD;;;
Oh pft s'no big deal. |D
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What Matthew saw in that room was not his brother, America. What he saw was not the cocky older brother that he has spend years of his being trying to tolerate with. The body on the ground was not the hamburger-eating country that refused to see football as football and instead as soccer.
But the part that was confusing was that the body has America's hair, America's bomber jacket, America's exact resemblance.
But it was not Alfred F. Jones.
Alfred F. Jones, the United States of America, as was his official name, would not have been so easily swayed by other's thoughts of him, which was why Matthew assumed Alfred has turned to suicide.
His mind raced unable what to see of this situation, the situation of his older brother lying on the floor looking to be...
Well, no blood was on the floor, so he wasn't gone yet. Maybe. Hopefully. Canada hoped not, anyway.
Standing there, paralyzed, Canada had no idea what to do now. Should he get help? What if he was already dead? What good would help be?
He should call an ambulance. Dammit! He left his phone back at home! And whatever phone was in this house was probably dead, Canada already knew this from personal experience.
No way could Matthew carry Al. He tried before and failed.
Oh dear God dear God dear God Matthew need someone to help him! Maybe England? France? What about both?! But no phone.
Stop it! Matthew mentally shouted to himself. You're losing time, you idiot! Carry him and run to a hospital!
Following his mind (for once this night), Matthew bolted from his spot and towards Alfred, crouching down, and caught of glimpse of the other's face.
So peaceful.. So still.. And yet something seemed out of place.
Alfred wasn't smiling. Even when asleep, Al smiled. Matthew's eyes nearly flew from his skull as he looked away once more from America's face, trying as well as failing to keep his tears in.
- (Time skip cause I severly doubt anyone wants to read Matt taking Al to a hospital. XD) -
The meeting for that day was canceled due to 'unforeseen incidences'. Everyone but Japan really knew what happened (I knew Japan knew, Matthew thought to himself when he came to the hospital), so Kiku had to tell everyone what happened. Within the next few days, as Matthew stayed in the hospital room refusing to leave until Alfred woke up, practically everyone came to look at Alfred with worried eyes.
Of course, no one cared about Alfred's condition, save for Japan, England and France.
As well as him, but..
On a different note.
Alfred didn't get better. Nor did he get worse. Right now, Alfred was just in a comatose state from overdosing on pain killers and blood loss from the self-induced cuts.
Even though he knew what Al was doing to himself, it still hurt Matthew when the doctor said it.
Then one night, after Canada had dozed off, Al woke up.
Being awoken to the shouts of his name, Matthew shot up from his resting place to look at Alfred, confused, tired, amazed, cheerful and worried.
Matthew nearly flinched upon looking at Alfred's face. It was like looking at a corpse of a friend; horrifying and you feel like you want to vomit, but couldn't keep your eyes away, even if you tightly shut your eyes. The image was burned in your memory to haunt you for life.
"Matt, why am I here?!" Alfred demanded, as something twinged to the nation. His voice.. Why was Alfred worried?
Rather, why was Alfred panicking?
"What do you mean, why are you here?" Was all Matt could muster out. To be honest, he was still tired, and being shouted at as a wake-up call did not help whatsoever. Seeing Alfred and hearing his tone though; that helped a bit, Canada had to admit.
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