Economic Crisis [1.5/?]
anonymous
July 16 2009, 15:06:12 UTC
When Alfred walked into the meeting room the next morning, he was greeted with quite an unpleasant shriek.
“Mon Dieu, Alfred! What happened to your lovely face? You look…”
“Horrible. I know.” Alfred sighed, trying not to wince as he adjusted his glasses on his swollen, purple nose. “I got a little drunk last night and when I tried going to bed, I tripped over my…uh…my dog. Yeah, my dog.”
The American didn’t care how many unbelieving eyes were staring at him as he took the empty seat between England and Canada. It was meeting day, he was expecting those types of stares anyway.
“But Alfred,” China looked up from his papers. “You don’t have a dog, aru.”
This caused the blonde’s shoulders to twitch. He took a deep breath, about to tell people the real reason his nose was the size of his fist, until he saw a flash of black and green sweep through the meeting room’s doors and swiftly appear between the North American brothers. There he was, Mr. Economy, wearing a nice new suit and holding his head up high. His shirt was forest green; the color of all the trees he’d made Alfred cut down. Today, like every day, his clothes smelled like money; ink, paper, and the dusty smell things got when they spent too much time in someone’s wallet.
His grin was menacing. He’d heard the conversation so far and didn’t like that Alfred was such a poor liar.
“Canada, mind switching seats? I have to fill out a few things with your brother, over here.” Carter’s angelic smile that was flashed toward the barely-noticeable nation and his polar bear turned into such an ugly, dark smirk when it found it’s way to America, that Alfred involuntarily shivered.
His brother nodded and quickly complied, finding a seat comfortably placed between Japan and France. Too tired or wrapped up in their paperwork to notice, nobody saw their newest member grab the shaking American’s hand and dig his nails into it.
“If you dare say anything,” The younger man scowled, making sure his nails drew blood. “I’ll not only slap your sorry ass around for the next couple years, but I’ll get your little brother too. We got an understanding, here?”
The only thing Alfred could do to show he understood was let out a barely audible whimper and slowly nod his head.
Heroes don’t let their little brothers get raped by egomaniacal bastards. If Mattie was ever so much as given a pat on the back by Carter, there’d be hell to pay. Then, Alfred wouldn’t mind growing the balls to fuck his economy over and stab that son-of-a-bitch.
But, until then, the blonde was okay with having broken bones and blood running down his fingers. As long as everybody else was alright.
“So, idiotic gits aside, let’s start our meeting. Shall we?” England took his seat again when the room filled with nations nodding and reading their papers in front of them.
---
So, uh, the one I put as 1 is now the prologue. This is the real #1 and so on to 2, 3, 4, etc. :3 I feel really bad about doing this to Alfred...but it's too much fun.
Economic Crisis [2/?]
anonymous
July 16 2009, 16:07:18 UTC
Sure, the pain that Carter sent up and down his body was horrible. But, the painful silence and the build-up of what was soon to come was even worse.
Alfred got sick in the bathroom before the meeting was over. Used the ‘must have been a bad burger’ excuse and darted. In reality, the thought of how rough the night might be scared the shit out of him. The American didn’t even want to eat dinner that night, in fear that he might have to clean chunks of it out of the floor and his clothes tomorrow.
They both drove separate cars to the meeting. Alfred’s old Monty Carlo was nothing in compare to his boyfriend’s shiny new Mustang, but, it got him around and he loved it. He loved that Carter hated it and wouldn’t so much as sit in it. It was all his.
-
The walk through the door was enough to threaten more remnants of Alfred’s lunch to come projecting out of his mouth. Despite the gut twisting feeling, he held down his sandwich and opened the door.
Inside, the television was turned off and the only light that was on was the one in the bathroom. It seemed safe enough. He was taking a crap or something, leaving Al to make dinner again. No big deal. Until…
“Alfred! I need you to come in here.” When the angered economy received no reply, he added on a fierce ‘Now!’
After kicking off his shoes and hanging his favored bomber’s jacket on the coat rack, the blonde shuffled towards the bathroom and prepared for the worst.
When the door was opened, Carter slid out from behind from it and shoved his boyfriend. Alfred was pushed toward the tub, his calves hitting the rim and causing him to lose balance. Before he knew it, the American was folded up inside the empty bath, his head slamming against a cold tiled wall.
“F-fuck…” He muttered under his breath and prayed that the other man didn’t hear it. Unfortunately, there appeared to be no God.
“You slut!” He cheek stung from a forceful backhand. “You fucking hoe! Did ya think I would let you get away with telling your friends that shit? Don’t you understand?” He was being pulled out of the empty tub and being forced to his knees. A growl came from behind him and a tongue came to lick the shell of his ear.
“I own you. An’ not a soul’s gonna do anything about our little relationship because, face it,” Carter pulled his head back and laughed, his long black ponytail whipping behind him. “They all need me.”
Given that this had been going on for about a year now, Alfred was ready for almost anything. This, though, this was not the normal anything.
America’s head, glasses and all, was shoved into the toilet he was kneeling in front of. With a hand still forcing his head down, the handle was pulled and the water in the bowl was flushed down, taking Texas with it.
The broken blonde threw his head back, not caring that the person behind him would be cross about getting wet, and gasped for air. “T-Texas…you…”
More laughter filled the room as Alfred’s clothes started getting clawed off.
“That’s what you deserve. You’re just another dirty skank. That’s why England hates you still. That’s why people laugh at you behind your back and pray to whatever god they worship that you’ll just kill over one day. Don’t you understand? Nobody cares about Alfred F. Jones.”
The last sentence was punctuated just so, that it brought the almighty nation to tears. Salty drops mixed with the dirty toilet water that made his hair cling to his face and droplets run down his neck.
Once all his clothes were off, he felt something hard and pulsating against his backside. No preparation. No lubricant.
“G-god, no…” He grabbed the edge of the porcelain bowl and let go of everything that was in his stomach at the time. Again, the only response he got back was cold laughter.
“Nobody cares about you. Not. One. Person.” And with that, his head was pushed into the bile-filled water in front of him and he was driven to swallow some of it back again, opening his mouth to scream bloody murder. Nobody was there to listen.
Economic Crisis [3/?]
anonymous
July 16 2009, 23:47:58 UTC
He was a hero. He’d taken the heat for every other nation. While they got to live on and be happy, he was taking what should have been their pain, their suffering. He never received a ‘thank you’ in return. He didn’t need one. Heroes did what they did for the good of the world.
Alfred sat up from his position on the cold bathroom floor, placing his hands in a mixture of cum, blood, and a mixture of water and throw-up. He gagged, but nothing came out. His stomach had nothing left to give.
Looking out into the hallway, the American let a small smile grace his face when he saw that his boyfriend wasn’t home.
Must be at another meeting with Mr. Obama.
-
“What…America, what happened to you?” Germany gasped, wrapping his arms around a shaking Feliciano.
“Ve, Germany, Alfred’s hurt. Do you think pasta will make him feel better?”
The blonde German only sighed and ran his hands through his friend’s hair. “What will make him feel better is him telling us who keeps doing this to him.”
Adding onto the broken nose, there was now a thin red line across Alfred’s cheek, his eyes were red and they had hideous bags under them. He wasn’t wearing Texas today, which was odd, because he had said sometime before that he felt naked without it.
Not to mention, he looked like he was about ready to fall down and pass out. His legs were trembling and there was a very noticeable limp in his walk. Something was horribly wrong.
Still, the nation flashed his signature grin and shook everyone off.
“’m fine. Just…fell down the steps…a couple times.” He coughed. Nobody let his poor excuses go this time.
“Alfred, we know you’re living with that maniac. What’s he doing to you. F” The Frenchman came from behind the bruised American and rubbed his back. “Because, if he is, we’re here for you.”
Everyone at the table looked up. A couple Italians, a couple Germans, all the Asian countries, the Nordics, the Baltic countries, Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Hungary, Austria, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Spain, and lastly, he felt the arms of his fathers and brother wrapping around him.
“Christ, Alfred. What’s he doing to you?” England frowned and looked over a few new bruises.
“What’s what doing to who?” The meeting room’s doors swung on their hinges as a very angry man decked in black and yellow pulled Alfred away from his family.
Everyone was silent.
“It’s none of your concern what happens to Alfred when he’s with me. Besides,” He pulled the nation against his chest as bony fingers found their way to the front of his pants. “He enjoys my company.”
Alfred shivered and whimpered, trying to squirm away from the cold, sinister hands that were starting to sneak into his pants.
“You get your hands off of my brother right now, you bastard! You’re hurting him!” A usually quiet Canadian slammed his fists against the table. “You’re hurting my goddamned brother and I’m not going to sit here and let you!”
Nervous glances passed around the table. Shallow golden pools glittered and a smirk worked its way onto Carter’s face.
Francis reached his hands out to steady his younger brother, ready to hold him back when the time came. “Mathieu…don’t…”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Mr. Economy laughed. That stupid, hallow laugh…
“This bitch is mine!” He pulled on dirty blonde hair, drinking in the pained yelps of his boyfriend. “And there’s nothing any of you can do about it.”
Carter quickly pulled Alfred out of the conference room and left the other nations to stare at the floor in shame.
“Will…will he be okay, Su-san?” A small voice bit though the silence and gnawed at everyone’s mind. Would he be?
Sweden gave a sad smile to his wife and pulled him close. “I d’n’t kn’w, F’nl’nd. H’p’f’lly.”
And that’s when the screams and sobs started coming from the room next door.
---
...It'll be over soon. Maybe I can take this to ten chapters...? Again, sorry about the Alfred bashing. I feel horrible. :(
ReCaptcha: swirly Times...woah. xD That made me happy again.
(I made a little mistake) on Economic Crisis [3/?]
anonymous
July 16 2009, 23:59:39 UTC
“Alfred, we know you’re living with that maniac. What’s he doing to you? Abus?” The Frenchman came from behind the bruised American and rubbed his back. “Because, if he is, we’re here for you.”
Economic Crisis [4/?]
anonymous
July 17 2009, 22:02:40 UTC
“Why isn’t America here?” Lithuania asked, his eyes darting around the room nervously. The atmosphere was dark and depressing.
“We all know very well why he isn’t here today.” Japan said sadly, his gaze fixed on the table in front of him. “One of us will just have to give the papers and information from today’s meeting to him later.”
Half the people were squirming around in their seats, trying not to meet eyes with a certain group of blondes at the head of the table.
“Very well, then. I suppose I should go over.” England looked towards Matthew and saw a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “I’ll try and sort out all of this nonsense. He…shouldn’t have to deal with it. That git should have told us sooner.”
Not his usually happy self, Spain sighed and directed his attention towards the Brit. “What could we have done? It’s not like he did the smartest thing by not telling us, but he knows as well as the rest of us that we need the Economy and that we need to keep him happy. If we didn’t then…”
“This is a load of bullshit! That bastard thinks he can push any of us around when he wants to. Well, he can’t. We can sacrifice a few weeks of pain if it means taking him down. I mean, I can understand the bitching and bulling he’s done already but this is too much.” Lovino glared around the table.
“We should lock him away until a new economy appears. If there can be more than one of our countries, then we should be able to have the same outcome with this.” The Italian finished, glaring at Spain. “You don’t think at times like these, do you?”
Everyone started talking to whoever was sitting next to them. Whispers of what the older Italian said and if it would really work were passed from ear to ear.
Then, France stood up and grinned. “I say we go for it. We can gather a few countries together and get Carter out of America‘s house today. Who’s with me?”
Everyone nodded and smiled.
-
Alfred was locked in the closet for the rest of that night with his hands tied behind his back. He was stuck in a cramped, dark room with no windows and no leg space. When he woke up the next morning, he found that he was still in the same position.
“Jesus Christ…some hero, letting other people get the best of me.” The nation grumbled, fumbling with the ropes that bound his hands together. “I should really work on that…”
He heard a pair of feet stomping up the stairs and frowned. Was Carter just going to leave him in there for the rest of the day?
“Please let me out. I’m sorry, I should have hid it better. You can do whatever you want to me, but, please…”
Suddenly, the stomping stopped and Alfred thought he heard a few curses muttered. Carter started walking back down the steps and into the hallway where the closet was. The door was open, making the American wince at the brightness.
“Did you say something?” The black-haired man asked with a smirk. He grabbed Alfred by his hair and pulled him out of the closet. Alfred had forgotten all about his horrible headache until then. “Because, I thought I showed you why you shouldn’t talk back to me last night.”
His voice was playful and angry at the same time. Like, when a mother is arguing with their child and she knows that she’ll win either way. The creepier way of saying ‘you don’t wanna mess with me’.
Carter pulled the blonde up so they were face to face. “Or, would you like me to show you again?”
-
“We all here?” Germany looked around the American’s lawn and made sure that their team was together. They were a group of eight
Russia and Prussia were in charge of capturing the abusive man. China and Japan were there for medical purposes…incase anything was or would get messy. Germany and England were in charge of locking Carter away, and France and Canada were there to calm Alfred down.
More or less, they were all Alfred’s friends. They were also some of the countries this economy crisis would hit the hardest.
“Let’s do this.”
---
So...I'm not too happy with this chapter and it seems too short. Expect something better for the next one.
Thank you for the people who actually like it. I'm so happy you think that way~ Anon loves you. ^^
Re: Economic Crisis [4/?]
anonymous
July 17 2009, 22:30:38 UTC
Ohhh! Anon! Why do you cut it off at such an important part? ;AAA; Despite the sheer advantage in numbers (AND C'MON. IT'S RUSSIA. AND PRUSSIA.) I have this feeling they'll lose. Please, please make them win! ;AAA; J-Just. Poor America, bawwwww. -hugs him-
Buuut ffff! Amazing job so far! I really liked this part. Something about the whole locking him in the close just. idk. I guess I like how your abuse feels so real, something that would really happen.
-claps and offers interwebz- Because this fill is just that awesome. ♥
Economic Crisis [5 part 1/?]
anonymous
July 18 2009, 02:09:52 UTC
“You don’t seem to understand anything. Do you, Alfred?” A punch was thrown at the nation’s healing nose and a scream that could shatter all the glass from Philadelphia to San Francisco echoed throughout the house.
-
A scream came from inside the house and everybody tensed.
“A-Arthur?” Canada looked towards him to find him scowling. “Please…don’t do anything drastic. We’re all here to take Carter down…together.” Matt scooted closer to Francis when he saw Arthur’s eye twitch.
“No. I’m heading in first. Tell Ivan and Gilbert to back me up.” The Brit ran up to the house, past the locked front door and decided on pushing open one of the window screens instead.
The room he landed in was Alfred’s bedroom; just two doors down from the closet. He looked around and saw scattered ace bandages and a huge bottle of painkillers.
“Bloody hell…” Arthur picked up the bottle and saw that it held around 500 pills. Making him even more worried, it seemed that less then fifty pills were left. “Why didn’t you tell me, Alfred?”
-
Carter stepped on the American’s chest and laughed when the man under him wheezed. He was about to drag him to the bedroom, but there was a sound a couple feet away from him.
“Drop my little brother now, you sodding wanker, before I make you.” England growled, getting even more pissed off when he saw blood pouring out of the Alfred’s nose and running down the side of one of his arms.
“N-no, Arthur…I…I-I made a bad investment and…” The blonde looked towards the man still stepping on him to cover him.
Carter glared from one nation to the other. This was stupid. They were stupid.
“And now I’m punishing him for it. So, if you’ll excuse me.” He grabbed the front of Alfred’s shirt and pulled him a few steps down the hall before something clicked and a command was shouted from behind him.
“Drop him! Let go of him right now, or I’ll shoot!” Arthur’s hands were shaking as he directed the gun at the economy’s chest. He didn’t like killing people, but, if it was for America…
“Fine.” Carter laughed as he threw the American at the wall and watched his body flop to the floor. Ignoring Alfred’s groans, he continued, “You won’t shoot me. I’m what helps you stay alive. Without me, your people would be dying, So, go ahead,” He walked right up to the gun and felt the cold metal press against his chest. “Shoot me.”
Before England could pull the trigger, he took an uppercut to the eye and his sweating hands dropped the weapon. Carter shoved the Brit and thrust his hand out to obtain the gun, but was pulled back quickly and thrown onto the floor. Not soon after, two pairs of hands grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him up.
In front of him, to his disbelief, was Alfred, standing on unstable legs, glaring at him like nobody has before.
“You ever touch England or any of my friends and family again, I’ll kill you.” He wiped the blood that had dripped on his lips and turned to help his old caretaker up, not caring what Russia and Prussia did to his beloved economy.
Economic Crisis [5 part 2/?]
anonymous
July 18 2009, 02:11:48 UTC
-
“What happened to England?” Germany gawked when he saw his brother walk out with a satisfied grin and his hands grasping Carter’s arm so hard that the appendage had nearly lost color.
“This bastard knocked him out. So, we go in there just in time to find England on the ground and his gun is right in front of this fucker. And he reaches for it, then, Alfred’s on him like a fat kid on cake, punching him and pushing him down to the ground. I thought that kid was helpless because of all this but…man, West, that was awesome.” Prussia finished, helping Russia push a stunned black-haired man into the back of Germany’s car.
The German shook his head and started walking into the house. “You two take him to the cell, alright? I’ll ride over there with Japan in a few minutes.”
After Gilbert got in the driver’s seat and started the ignition, Ludwig shut the door behind him and hurriedly walked toward the hallway.
On one side of the hall, Japan and France were hunched over England, mumbled mixture of English and French curses echoed down the hall.
On the other side, China had America propped against the wall and hold an icepack to his nose while the smaller man tended to his arm. Canada was wrapping his arms around the nation’s waist, basically crying into his shoulder.
“You are un idiot, Arthur. Mathieu told you not to come in by yourself. You could have been killed. Qu'aurions-nous fait si vous avez été tués, Arthur?” Francis frowned at the ring that was appearing around his friend’s eye.
“You’d all be a lot happier, you frog.” England laughed and whispered to Japan that he didn’t need any treatment. The Asian nodded and told Arthur that he was happy he was okay. The three stood and walked towards the American.
“You’re so stupid, aru. You should have told us something, instead of making us follow one of South Italy’s plans, aru.” Yao finished bandaging the blonde’s arm. “Done.”
Alfred’s eyes seemed to get a bit bigger. “Romano though this up? “ He laughed. “Remind me to thank him later.” After testing his arm out, America wrapped it around his brother and kissed the boy’s head.
“It’s alright, Matt. I’m right here.” At this, the Canadian looked up and pouted.
“We were all worried, Al.” He sniffed and wiped his eyes. When France saw, he quickly sat next to the blue-eyed boy and pulled him close.
“But we got rid of the problem, mon cher. Do not worry.” Francis smiled as Matthew leaned against him.
Alfred made to stand up, but was pushed back down by warm, calloused hands.
“You sit. Japan, Germany, China: you can leave. Please take ill for the rest of this mission and see to it that smaller or more traditional island or farm countries are put to working with Carter. You’ll be hit with something from the economy crisis very soon and I don’t want anything going wrong.
“Tell Russia to do the same, as well. I’ll stay here with everybody else.” England sat beside his former colony and turned his back on the other countries. “Thank you. And please shut the door on the way out.”
Japan helped his brother up and waited to leave until China dusted himself off. Germany began walking with them, reminding Kiku that they had to look over the cell first.
“It seems like this mission was a success.” Germany looked over toward the American and gave a small smile as he walked out with the two brothers.
And like always, you’re the hero, aren’t you?”
---
Finally, I'm half way done bashing on my country! xD This chapter was a little too happy for my tastes but it had to be done. I can't kill Alfred's spirits forever. Can anybody guess the pairings for this fic? Go ahead, take a shot at it. Now, excuse me while I try to write a chapter of fluff, a chapter of boring shit, and three chapters of secksie times that I really need to ponder over.
“Mon Dieu, Alfred! What happened to your lovely face? You look…”
“Horrible. I know.” Alfred sighed, trying not to wince as he adjusted his glasses on his swollen, purple nose. “I got a little drunk last night and when I tried going to bed, I tripped over my…uh…my dog. Yeah, my dog.”
The American didn’t care how many unbelieving eyes were staring at him as he took the empty seat between England and Canada. It was meeting day, he was expecting those types of stares anyway.
“But Alfred,” China looked up from his papers. “You don’t have a dog, aru.”
This caused the blonde’s shoulders to twitch. He took a deep breath, about to tell people the real reason his nose was the size of his fist, until he saw a flash of black and green sweep through the meeting room’s doors and swiftly appear between the North American brothers.
There he was, Mr. Economy, wearing a nice new suit and holding his head up high. His shirt was forest green; the color of all the trees he’d made Alfred cut down. Today, like every day, his clothes smelled like money; ink, paper, and the dusty smell things got when they spent too much time in someone’s wallet.
His grin was menacing. He’d heard the conversation so far and didn’t like that Alfred was such a poor liar.
“Canada, mind switching seats? I have to fill out a few things with your brother, over here.” Carter’s angelic smile that was flashed toward the barely-noticeable nation and his polar bear turned into such an ugly, dark smirk when it found it’s way to America, that Alfred involuntarily shivered.
His brother nodded and quickly complied, finding a seat comfortably placed between Japan and France. Too tired or wrapped up in their paperwork to notice, nobody saw their newest member grab the shaking American’s hand and dig his nails into it.
“If you dare say anything,” The younger man scowled, making sure his nails drew blood. “I’ll not only slap your sorry ass around for the next couple years, but I’ll get your little brother too. We got an understanding, here?”
The only thing Alfred could do to show he understood was let out a barely audible whimper and slowly nod his head.
Heroes don’t let their little brothers get raped by egomaniacal bastards. If Mattie was ever so much as given a pat on the back by Carter, there’d be hell to pay. Then, Alfred wouldn’t mind growing the balls to fuck his economy over and stab that son-of-a-bitch.
But, until then, the blonde was okay with having broken bones and blood running down his fingers. As long as everybody else was alright.
“So, idiotic gits aside, let’s start our meeting. Shall we?” England took his seat again when the room filled with nations nodding and reading their papers in front of them.
---
So, uh, the one I put as 1 is now the prologue. This is the real #1 and so on to 2, 3, 4, etc. :3 I feel really bad about doing this to Alfred...but it's too much fun.
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Alfred got sick in the bathroom before the meeting was over. Used the ‘must have been a bad burger’ excuse and darted. In reality, the thought of how rough the night might be scared the shit out of him. The American didn’t even want to eat dinner that night, in fear that he might have to clean chunks of it out of the floor and his clothes tomorrow.
They both drove separate cars to the meeting. Alfred’s old Monty Carlo was nothing in compare to his boyfriend’s shiny new Mustang, but, it got him around and he loved it. He loved that Carter hated it and wouldn’t so much as sit in it. It was all his.
-
The walk through the door was enough to threaten more remnants of Alfred’s lunch to come projecting out of his mouth. Despite the gut twisting feeling, he held down his sandwich and opened the door.
Inside, the television was turned off and the only light that was on was the one in the bathroom. It seemed safe enough. He was taking a crap or something, leaving Al to make dinner again. No big deal. Until…
“Alfred! I need you to come in here.” When the angered economy received no reply, he added on a fierce ‘Now!’
After kicking off his shoes and hanging his favored bomber’s jacket on the coat rack, the blonde shuffled towards the bathroom and prepared for the worst.
When the door was opened, Carter slid out from behind from it and shoved his boyfriend. Alfred was pushed toward the tub, his calves hitting the rim and causing him to lose balance. Before he knew it, the American was folded up inside the empty bath, his head slamming against a cold tiled wall.
“F-fuck…” He muttered under his breath and prayed that the other man didn’t hear it. Unfortunately, there appeared to be no God.
“You slut!” He cheek stung from a forceful backhand. “You fucking hoe! Did ya think I would let you get away with telling your friends that shit? Don’t you understand?” He was being pulled out of the empty tub and being forced to his knees. A growl came from behind him and a tongue came to lick the shell of his ear.
“I own you. An’ not a soul’s gonna do anything about our little relationship because, face it,” Carter pulled his head back and laughed, his long black ponytail whipping behind him. “They all need me.”
Given that this had been going on for about a year now, Alfred was ready for almost anything. This, though, this was not the normal anything.
America’s head, glasses and all, was shoved into the toilet he was kneeling in front of. With a hand still forcing his head down, the handle was pulled and the water in the bowl was flushed down, taking Texas with it.
The broken blonde threw his head back, not caring that the person behind him would be cross about getting wet, and gasped for air. “T-Texas…you…”
More laughter filled the room as Alfred’s clothes started getting clawed off.
“That’s what you deserve. You’re just another dirty skank. That’s why England hates you still. That’s why people laugh at you behind your back and pray to whatever god they worship that you’ll just kill over one day. Don’t you understand? Nobody cares about Alfred F. Jones.”
The last sentence was punctuated just so, that it brought the almighty nation to tears. Salty drops mixed with the dirty toilet water that made his hair cling to his face and droplets run down his neck.
Once all his clothes were off, he felt something hard and pulsating against his backside. No preparation. No lubricant.
“G-god, no…” He grabbed the edge of the porcelain bowl and let go of everything that was in his stomach at the time. Again, the only response he got back was cold laughter.
“Nobody cares about you. Not. One. Person.” And with that, his head was pushed into the bile-filled water in front of him and he was driven to swallow some of it back again, opening his mouth to scream bloody murder. Nobody was there to listen.
---
I...I think I just puked. >.o I'm so sorry...
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This bathroom scene was so raw I nearly cried. And before I was all "Not Canada! Jenkins you monster!!"
I can't help but think of the bad guy from Gangs of New York, whenever Economy threatens Alfred. Very nice work! (Daniel Day-Lewis...sooo crazy!)
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Alfred sat up from his position on the cold bathroom floor, placing his hands in a mixture of cum, blood, and a mixture of water and throw-up. He gagged, but nothing came out. His stomach had nothing left to give.
Looking out into the hallway, the American let a small smile grace his face when he saw that his boyfriend wasn’t home.
Must be at another meeting with Mr. Obama.
-
“What…America, what happened to you?” Germany gasped, wrapping his arms around a shaking Feliciano.
“Ve, Germany, Alfred’s hurt. Do you think pasta will make him feel better?”
The blonde German only sighed and ran his hands through his friend’s hair. “What will make him feel better is him telling us who keeps doing this to him.”
Adding onto the broken nose, there was now a thin red line across Alfred’s cheek, his eyes were red and they had hideous bags under them. He wasn’t wearing Texas today, which was odd, because he had said sometime before that he felt naked without it.
Not to mention, he looked like he was about ready to fall down and pass out. His legs were trembling and there was a very noticeable limp in his walk. Something was horribly wrong.
Still, the nation flashed his signature grin and shook everyone off.
“’m fine. Just…fell down the steps…a couple times.” He coughed. Nobody let his poor excuses go this time.
“Alfred, we know you’re living with that maniac. What’s he doing to you. F” The Frenchman came from behind the bruised American and rubbed his back. “Because, if he is, we’re here for you.”
Everyone at the table looked up. A couple Italians, a couple Germans, all the Asian countries, the Nordics, the Baltic countries, Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Hungary, Austria, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Spain, and lastly, he felt the arms of his fathers and brother wrapping around him.
“Christ, Alfred. What’s he doing to you?” England frowned and looked over a few new bruises.
“What’s what doing to who?” The meeting room’s doors swung on their hinges as a very angry man decked in black and yellow pulled Alfred away from his family.
Everyone was silent.
“It’s none of your concern what happens to Alfred when he’s with me. Besides,” He pulled the nation against his chest as bony fingers found their way to the front of his pants. “He enjoys my company.”
Alfred shivered and whimpered, trying to squirm away from the cold, sinister hands that were starting to sneak into his pants.
“You get your hands off of my brother right now, you bastard! You’re hurting him!” A usually quiet Canadian slammed his fists against the table. “You’re hurting my goddamned brother and I’m not going to sit here and let you!”
Nervous glances passed around the table. Shallow golden pools glittered and a smirk worked its way onto Carter’s face.
Francis reached his hands out to steady his younger brother, ready to hold him back when the time came. “Mathieu…don’t…”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Mr. Economy laughed. That stupid, hallow laugh…
“This bitch is mine!” He pulled on dirty blonde hair, drinking in the pained yelps of his boyfriend. “And there’s nothing any of you can do about it.”
Carter quickly pulled Alfred out of the conference room and left the other nations to stare at the floor in shame.
“Will…will he be okay, Su-san?” A small voice bit though the silence and gnawed at everyone’s mind. Would he be?
Sweden gave a sad smile to his wife and pulled him close. “I d’n’t kn’w, F’nl’nd. H’p’f’lly.”
And that’s when the screams and sobs started coming from the room next door.
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...It'll be over soon. Maybe I can take this to ten chapters...? Again, sorry about the Alfred bashing. I feel horrible. :(
ReCaptcha: swirly Times...woah. xD That made me happy again.
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There. Now it's better. Désolé, mes amants. ^^;
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“We all know very well why he isn’t here today.” Japan said sadly, his gaze fixed on the table in front of him. “One of us will just have to give the papers and information from today’s meeting to him later.”
Half the people were squirming around in their seats, trying not to meet eyes with a certain group of blondes at the head of the table.
“Very well, then. I suppose I should go over.” England looked towards Matthew and saw a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “I’ll try and sort out all of this nonsense. He…shouldn’t have to deal with it. That git should have told us sooner.”
Not his usually happy self, Spain sighed and directed his attention towards the Brit. “What could we have done? It’s not like he did the smartest thing by not telling us, but he knows as well as the rest of us that we need the Economy and that we need to keep him happy. If we didn’t then…”
“This is a load of bullshit! That bastard thinks he can push any of us around when he wants to. Well, he can’t. We can sacrifice a few weeks of pain if it means taking him down. I mean, I can understand the bitching and bulling he’s done already but this is too much.” Lovino glared around the table.
“We should lock him away until a new economy appears. If there can be more than one of our countries, then we should be able to have the same outcome with this.” The Italian finished, glaring at Spain. “You don’t think at times like these, do you?”
Everyone started talking to whoever was sitting next to them. Whispers of what the older Italian said and if it would really work were passed from ear to ear.
Then, France stood up and grinned. “I say we go for it. We can gather a few countries together and get Carter out of America‘s house today. Who’s with me?”
Everyone nodded and smiled.
-
Alfred was locked in the closet for the rest of that night with his hands tied behind his back. He was stuck in a cramped, dark room with no windows and no leg space. When he woke up the next morning, he found that he was still in the same position.
“Jesus Christ…some hero, letting other people get the best of me.” The nation grumbled, fumbling with the ropes that bound his hands together. “I should really work on that…”
He heard a pair of feet stomping up the stairs and frowned. Was Carter just going to leave him in there for the rest of the day?
“Please let me out. I’m sorry, I should have hid it better. You can do whatever you want to me, but, please…”
Suddenly, the stomping stopped and Alfred thought he heard a few curses muttered. Carter started walking back down the steps and into the hallway where the closet was. The door was open, making the American wince at the brightness.
“Did you say something?” The black-haired man asked with a smirk. He grabbed Alfred by his hair and pulled him out of the closet. Alfred had forgotten all about his horrible headache until then. “Because, I thought I showed you why you shouldn’t talk back to me last night.”
His voice was playful and angry at the same time. Like, when a mother is arguing with their child and she knows that she’ll win either way. The creepier way of saying ‘you don’t wanna mess with me’.
Carter pulled the blonde up so they were face to face. “Or, would you like me to show you again?”
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“We all here?” Germany looked around the American’s lawn and made sure that their team was together. They were a group of eight
Russia and Prussia were in charge of capturing the abusive man. China and Japan were there for medical purposes…incase anything was or would get messy. Germany and England were in charge of locking Carter away, and France and Canada were there to calm Alfred down.
More or less, they were all Alfred’s friends. They were also some of the countries this economy crisis would hit the hardest.
“Let’s do this.”
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So...I'm not too happy with this chapter and it seems too short. Expect something better for the next one.
Thank you for the people who actually like it. I'm so happy you think that way~ Anon loves you. ^^
ReCaptcha: kidnaper Time WTF xD
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Buuut ffff! Amazing job so far! I really liked this part. Something about the whole locking him in the close just. idk. I guess I like how your abuse feels so real, something that would really happen.
-claps and offers interwebz- Because this fill is just that awesome. ♥
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No one should have to deal that bastard!
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A scream came from inside the house and everybody tensed.
“A-Arthur?” Canada looked towards him to find him scowling. “Please…don’t do anything drastic. We’re all here to take Carter down…together.” Matt scooted closer to Francis when he saw Arthur’s eye twitch.
“No. I’m heading in first. Tell Ivan and Gilbert to back me up.” The Brit ran up to the house, past the locked front door and decided on pushing open one of the window screens instead.
The room he landed in was Alfred’s bedroom; just two doors down from the closet. He looked around and saw scattered ace bandages and a huge bottle of painkillers.
“Bloody hell…” Arthur picked up the bottle and saw that it held around 500 pills. Making him even more worried, it seemed that less then fifty pills were left. “Why didn’t you tell me, Alfred?”
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Carter stepped on the American’s chest and laughed when the man under him wheezed. He was about to drag him to the bedroom, but there was a sound a couple feet away from him.
“Drop my little brother now, you sodding wanker, before I make you.” England growled, getting even more pissed off when he saw blood pouring out of the Alfred’s nose and running down the side of one of his arms.
“N-no, Arthur…I…I-I made a bad investment and…” The blonde looked towards the man still stepping on him to cover him.
Carter glared from one nation to the other. This was stupid. They were stupid.
“And now I’m punishing him for it. So, if you’ll excuse me.” He grabbed the front of Alfred’s shirt and pulled him a few steps down the hall before something clicked and a command was shouted from behind him.
“Drop him! Let go of him right now, or I’ll shoot!” Arthur’s hands were shaking as he directed the gun at the economy’s chest. He didn’t like killing people, but, if it was for America…
“Fine.” Carter laughed as he threw the American at the wall and watched his body flop to the floor. Ignoring Alfred’s groans, he continued, “You won’t shoot me. I’m what helps you stay alive. Without me, your people would be dying, So, go ahead,” He walked right up to the gun and felt the cold metal press against his chest. “Shoot me.”
Before England could pull the trigger, he took an uppercut to the eye and his sweating hands dropped the weapon. Carter shoved the Brit and thrust his hand out to obtain the gun, but was pulled back quickly and thrown onto the floor. Not soon after, two pairs of hands grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him up.
In front of him, to his disbelief, was Alfred, standing on unstable legs, glaring at him like nobody has before.
“You ever touch England or any of my friends and family again, I’ll kill you.” He wiped the blood that had dripped on his lips and turned to help his old caretaker up, not caring what Russia and Prussia did to his beloved economy.
-
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“What happened to England?” Germany gawked when he saw his brother walk out with a satisfied grin and his hands grasping Carter’s arm so hard that the appendage had nearly lost color.
“This bastard knocked him out. So, we go in there just in time to find England on the ground and his gun is right in front of this fucker. And he reaches for it, then, Alfred’s on him like a fat kid on cake, punching him and pushing him down to the ground. I thought that kid was helpless because of all this but…man, West, that was awesome.” Prussia finished, helping Russia push a stunned black-haired man into the back of Germany’s car.
The German shook his head and started walking into the house. “You two take him to the cell, alright? I’ll ride over there with Japan in a few minutes.”
After Gilbert got in the driver’s seat and started the ignition, Ludwig shut the door behind him and hurriedly walked toward the hallway.
On one side of the hall, Japan and France were hunched over England, mumbled mixture of English and French curses echoed down the hall.
On the other side, China had America propped against the wall and hold an icepack to his nose while the smaller man tended to his arm. Canada was wrapping his arms around the nation’s waist, basically crying into his shoulder.
“You are un idiot, Arthur. Mathieu told you not to come in by yourself. You could have been killed. Qu'aurions-nous fait si vous avez été tués, Arthur?” Francis frowned at the ring that was appearing around his friend’s eye.
“You’d all be a lot happier, you frog.” England laughed and whispered to Japan that he didn’t need any treatment. The Asian nodded and told Arthur that he was happy he was okay. The three stood and walked towards the American.
“You’re so stupid, aru. You should have told us something, instead of making us follow one of South Italy’s plans, aru.” Yao finished bandaging the blonde’s arm. “Done.”
Alfred’s eyes seemed to get a bit bigger. “Romano though this up? “ He laughed. “Remind me to thank him later.” After testing his arm out, America wrapped it around his brother and kissed the boy’s head.
“It’s alright, Matt. I’m right here.” At this, the Canadian looked up and pouted.
“We were all worried, Al.” He sniffed and wiped his eyes. When France saw, he quickly sat next to the blue-eyed boy and pulled him close.
“But we got rid of the problem, mon cher. Do not worry.” Francis smiled as Matthew leaned against him.
Alfred made to stand up, but was pushed back down by warm, calloused hands.
“You sit. Japan, Germany, China: you can leave. Please take ill for the rest of this mission and see to it that smaller or more traditional island or farm countries are put to working with Carter. You’ll be hit with something from the economy crisis very soon and I don’t want anything going wrong.
“Tell Russia to do the same, as well. I’ll stay here with everybody else.” England sat beside his former colony and turned his back on the other countries. “Thank you. And please shut the door on the way out.”
Japan helped his brother up and waited to leave until China dusted himself off. Germany began walking with them, reminding Kiku that they had to look over the cell first.
“It seems like this mission was a success.” Germany looked over toward the American and gave a small smile as he walked out with the two brothers.
And like always, you’re the hero, aren’t you?”
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Finally, I'm half way done bashing on my country! xD
This chapter was a little too happy for my tastes but it had to be done. I can't kill Alfred's spirits forever.
Can anybody guess the pairings for this fic? Go ahead, take a shot at it.
Now, excuse me while I try to write a chapter of fluff, a chapter of boring shit, and three chapters of secksie times that I really need to ponder over.
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And thanks for having Alfred get his nerve back. Heeeroo!
HAHA! Put 'im ta work in some third world country!
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And again, I'm glad everyone went Alanis Morissette on the economy! mucho luv!
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WAAHHH! I love FRancis when he's worrisome for England!
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