Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED
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A head turns, and follows with it, the body and France is at the door, a peachy hand holding the door knob, about to leave the room.
“Francis!” England calls out, and France pauses. He sighs - it's not like he's going to tell him. Of course, he wants to; it's not right though. The right to telling England who he is belongs to America. Besides, with such a unbelievable story, how would England even believe him?
“... Mathieu will be here soon. Wait for him.” France walks out the door, and even though England follows him out and shouts his name, France looks at him stern. “This is a hospital, Arthur. Don't raise your voice.” He turns, walks away and England stands there, stunned and angry.
What else can he do though? Without money - his morals and love for the American would never allow him to try and take some of America's cash - he can't go anywhere else. They won't even let him go back to America's house. He's not going to learn anything about himself like this.
England walks back into the room and sits down in the chair. He buries his face in his hands, trying to think, find a way, he has to find who he is... His fingers move apart and green eyes peek at America's form. England pulls his hands away, and moves them to America's rough, calloused hand, bandaged to shield the burns.
“Alfred...” He says quietly, and nothing more. He simply watches him breath, up and down, and thinks this is why he has to find out who he is.
He has to find out what he was to this person, so important that he would find him and take care of him while he was a wreck of a person who couldn't even recall his own name. He's sure he must have been important, maybe someone America loves because they're lovers now, aren't they?
England knows, positive, there must be some part of America that aches because England has forgotten everything about him, who he was and how he always acts. So he will find out, find out everything about himself he'd ever forgotten, remember, and look at America and know who that man is.
Then he'll stay by his side, he'll protect him, love him and return to him everything America has given him. He promises himself, squeezes that warm hand and holds it up, cranes his head down and presses his lips against it.
His eyes watch that still body again, and he still wonders. What was he to America? A lover of the man, even before he'd been taken away? Friend, business partner, relative?
If France won't tell him... No, he knows he can't ask Canada. Something in him says Canada will give the same answer. Better yet, Canada probably would have been warned by France by now, and definitely won't say. Hell, none of them will say, will they?
If they won't tell him anything, he'll have to find out by himself.
The airport flashes in his mind, the neon lights against gray, London, United Kingdom.
Something tells him he has to go there.
Urges him to run out, get there, somehow, it doesn't matter how.
England knows that's where his answer is.
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I do wonder how Arthur will get to London...somehow I doubt Canada will agree to it :-/
Captcha says 'By Monday.' Does that mean Arthur has to be in London by Monday or he will never, ever get his memories back? D:
^_~ ♥
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But if he goes to London, won't his boss be there to spill the beans?
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