[Fanfic De-Anon] Do No Harm 4/?
Title: Do No Harm
Author: PhantomMemories/JazzChyk
Genre: Angst/Drama
Rating: For now, T for language reasons
Warnings: USUK, Language, implied past sexual activity.
Summary: After an attack on America, the personification vanishes. (Kink Meme De-anon request for Amnesia and Doctor!America. Original request here.)
Tokyo, Japan
Japan had nearly refused France's request.
Nearly.
When the European Nation had called him at a bizarrely early hour, he had been concerned that there was yet another crisis in the world-- and almost angry that it was not.
France hadn't explained the favour, at first, beyond 'Delay them in Tokyo I will be there as soon as I can.'
The invocation of England's name, and their friendship had caught Japan's attention before he hung up on France. The further invocation of Canada, brother to his lost friend had captured his interest.
“Any way you can,” France had said, “Get them to fake a mechanical difficulty, manufacture a problem with their passports-- just don't let that group leave. I must speak with them.”
“Why?” Japan had naturally asked, “Why so much trouble for a group of Americans-- if they have no weapons, and no intent to harm North Korea--”
“You will understand when you see them.”
The assumption that Japan would be too curious to merely delay the group had been far too correct. And after America-kun had-- well, France had been far too considerate of England's well-being in the world meetings of late. Acting as a friend and ally, only continuing their petty bickering when it was becoming obvious that England or Canada was being overwhelmed by memories.
These past eleven years had been difficult for all who had been allies, worse for those, like Japan, who had been friends. It wasn't just the physical wounds-- the way the fallout from Korea had brushed him-- but the changes...
He'd been thrust into a more prominent role himself, and Japan spoke his opinions loudly these days, knowing that if he did not, there was no Alfred-kun to bring them forward. Switzerland no longer yelled at him for echoing the opinions and ideas that had been discussed during late night gaming or movie nights.
Japan had seen a few countries come and go, a few annoying, a few cherished-- but America... he even missed the manipulative grin that Alfred sometimes had when trying to get someone to go along with something that they were barely interested in.
He missed his friend.
For all the bad things that had happened, the good outweighed it all, and his friendship with England was the closest one that he had now. And Japan could not allow the sombre Nation to break.
So he was there at the airport to assuage that curiosity. What could France mean by his remark-- Japan would know what when he saw them?
He was on his way down a short flight of stairs to where the delayed travelers had been escorted now that a (false) mechanical problem had been discovered upon the craft that was chartered for their group. And then, on the third step from the bottom, he heard it.
The ghost of a familiar laugh echoing from the area that he could see perhaps a dozen foreigners-- all with varying shades of hair, most taller than he-- the laugh was no louder than the others, but it was one that Japan hadn't heard for years--
He missed the last two steps, as he lost concentration and composure for that one moment, and fell. It couldn't--
“Oh, hey!” the ghost's voice preceded the realization that he'd attracted the attention of the group. “Are you okay there?”
Japan looked up, feeling his composure start to fray.
Those startlingly blue eyes looked back down at him with concern from behind a pair of round glasses. The face-- the face was the same, and yet not. Perhaps a little older-- and a long scar marred one cheek.
“Hey-- “ The voice asked again-- perhaps there were others speaking, but this voice was the only one he could hear. “Let me help. Are you hurt?”
The pose as the specter reached a hand down towards him, reminding him of the days following the bombs--
“Is he okay, Alain?” Another voice called, coming to the side of this... ordinary human.
“Maybe you should take over, Rob.” The friendly smile had faded just a fraction-- Japan had allowed the memories to make him hesitate too long. “I think... I'm too tall and scary or something.”
“No!” Japan gathered himself, suddenly reaching for that hand. It was warm, and alive-- and damn, but it was familiar. “I was just-- I didn't--”
This. This is what France had meant.
A surge of pain in his ankle distracted him from the chain of thought, and he nearly fell over once more, only to be caught in strong arms--
“Thanks, Rob.” Amer-- Alain said, “Can you help him over to the bench, so I can look at that ankle?”
“Not a problem, Alain.” The other man had caught him, and was now helping him to the bench, where suddenly the blond was prodding the ankle with the air of someone who was used to doing this.
“Who are you?” Japan found his voice when no longer under the familiar gaze. “Just-- who--”
“Looks like it's just a sprain. My equipment's still on the plane-- they probably have a kit behind the desk.” A brilliant grin was given to Japan as 'Rob' dashed off for the kit. “Don't worry. I'm a doctor.”
“Your name?” Japan asked again, wondering at the similarities. If England were here-- no wonder France wanted to meet him first. This was just a human with a similar build-- he could see the differences now. The young man holding his ankle was thinner, a bit more frail looking. Older. And then there was the scar-- “What is your name?”
“Ah. Introductions. My name is Alain England.” The same short laugh, and Japan wondered if the man even realized what language he was speaking. “And yours?”
*V*^*V*^*V*^
“Alain was my son's name.” Miss Nettie told them, as she poured the lemonade. (“Artificially flavored, I'm afraid-- the real stuff is too expensive to keep around these days.”) “He died in the service twenty years ago. And 'Al' had to be short for something, so when I took him in while he was going through therapy, we discussed it, and he took it on. Made it official, even.”
“It was kind of you.” Arthur said quietly, patting a green-eyed cat that had taken to him all too swiftly. “To give him some sort of stability when he needed it most.”
“There were a lot of people hurting, a lot of 'em in need-- but there was something about him...” Miss Nettie smiled fondly at him, golden glints in her eyes catching the morning light. “He was sick a lot in that first year-- most folks were getting back on their feet in no time. Al just struggled. And he was lonely--”
“He could have called me. Us.” Matthew sighed softly, voice not even making an echo. “I'm his twin-- he shouldn't have been blocking me out.”
“Twin?” Miss Nettie's head tilted slightly as she squinted at Matthew. “You mean younger brother, right? You do look similar.”
“Um.”
“We're both older than we look. Baby faces run in his family.” Arthur lied quickly. “Now, about Al-- why did he not call, or write? You said you found him--”
“Honey, if he could have given us any information to get in contact with you, we would've gotten ahold of you any way we could. We weren't even sure he was gonna make it for a while.” Miss Nettie sipped her lemonade calmly, “He came stumbling out of a burning store, wrapped around a little girl he'd found. We found her parents easily-- they were on the sidewalk-- but neither of them knew who he was. By then, he was unconscious. She was the one who told us that his name was 'Al'-- and that he'd said something else that sounded like 'England'. He saved her, and protected her. She was fine.”
“But surely he--” Arthur felt a chill. Alfred had to have been hurting before he performed that last 'heroic' act. America and children-- there was no way he could have resisted the need to help a small child. “He must have had identification on him!”
“I don't know how he survived, myself.” Miss Nettie shook her head. “Fifty years in the medical field, fifteen in the ER, and I've never seen someone as badly burned as that survive. His clothes were either burned, charred, or melted to his skin. The only thing that survived was a piece of jewelry that he'd had on a chain around his neck. When he woke up... he it took him a week to talk. He couldn't tell us anything.”
“Al...” Arthur heard Matthew whisper, but could not provide comfort. It might have been a decade ago, but Alfred-- his Alfred. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to vomit or cry.
“He's much better now. A lot better than most burn victims can expect-- the only thing that hasn't healed is his memory. And since there was no one who could identify him, we sent his picture off. After the first year, he decided he couldn't just sit around and wait. I gave him my son's name, and he took the other word that we'd told him he'd said before collapsing-hoping that it would maybe lead to a clue. Alain kept moving, and trying to rebuild. He found Iggy there, and brought him home the night he told me what he wanted to do next.”
“And... what was that?” The lemonade was dreadful, barely a hint of lemon, and more of sweet. But Arthur needed it. Needed something stronger, really, but he'd given up most of that when he realized it wasn't helping.
“He wanted to help people. The cat was a start-- but he wanted to help kids. Which makes sense, considering that he got hurt saving one in the first place.” Miss Nettie smiled. “He's a pediatric trauma specialist. Youngest in his group.”
Arthur's brain froze for a moment, at the thought. He knew Alfred was brighter than he acted, but--- all he could do was stare at their hostess.
The peripheral glance of Matthew told him that Canada's mouth was hanging open. For a moment, Arthur wondered if his own was as well.
Miss Nettie was laughing. At the two of them.
“Underestimated him, didn't you?” The cat chose that moment to yawn, stretch, and take a leap over to Miss Nettie. “He acts like a giant child at times-- but that's what it is. Just an act. The kids love him for it, and the adults love him for being able to get their kids to cooperate.”
“The woman at the hospital-- and you-- where is he?” Matthew finally spoke. “We need to- It's just been so long-- and--”
Keeping his eyes on Miss Nettie's face, Arthur was unable to voice a plea. Let him be somewhere safe, that can be easily--
“He's gone to Korea-- the zone. They were looking for someone good with kids, and he volunteered.”
Arthur felt his heart drop. If North Korea figured out who he was-- or worse, if China figured out-- or even Russia--
“He should be landing within the next few hours. Alain promised to call as soon as he landed, before they head out to the field.” Arthur's eyes went to the old-fashioned clock in the corner, wondering if they had time to do anything, but realising that they didn't. There was no way that they could stop Alfred now. He just had to hope. “Wait with me, and you can talk to him. I know it's not as good as face to face contact, but-- it's something.”
There was no help for it. Even Matthew's face showed the same concerns. They would wait.
(Sorry for delays. Prepping for con this weekend. Hoping to post more soon, but no promises-- will post pictures of the cosplays.)
Author: PhantomMemories/JazzChyk
Genre: Angst/Drama
Rating: For now, T for language reasons
Warnings: USUK, Language, implied past sexual activity.
Summary: After an attack on America, the personification vanishes. (Kink Meme De-anon request for Amnesia and Doctor!America. Original request here.)
Tokyo, Japan
Japan had nearly refused France's request.
Nearly.
When the European Nation had called him at a bizarrely early hour, he had been concerned that there was yet another crisis in the world-- and almost angry that it was not.
France hadn't explained the favour, at first, beyond 'Delay them in Tokyo I will be there as soon as I can.'
The invocation of England's name, and their friendship had caught Japan's attention before he hung up on France. The further invocation of Canada, brother to his lost friend had captured his interest.
“Any way you can,” France had said, “Get them to fake a mechanical difficulty, manufacture a problem with their passports-- just don't let that group leave. I must speak with them.”
“Why?” Japan had naturally asked, “Why so much trouble for a group of Americans-- if they have no weapons, and no intent to harm North Korea--”
“You will understand when you see them.”
The assumption that Japan would be too curious to merely delay the group had been far too correct. And after America-kun had-- well, France had been far too considerate of England's well-being in the world meetings of late. Acting as a friend and ally, only continuing their petty bickering when it was becoming obvious that England or Canada was being overwhelmed by memories.
These past eleven years had been difficult for all who had been allies, worse for those, like Japan, who had been friends. It wasn't just the physical wounds-- the way the fallout from Korea had brushed him-- but the changes...
He'd been thrust into a more prominent role himself, and Japan spoke his opinions loudly these days, knowing that if he did not, there was no Alfred-kun to bring them forward. Switzerland no longer yelled at him for echoing the opinions and ideas that had been discussed during late night gaming or movie nights.
Japan had seen a few countries come and go, a few annoying, a few cherished-- but America... he even missed the manipulative grin that Alfred sometimes had when trying to get someone to go along with something that they were barely interested in.
He missed his friend.
For all the bad things that had happened, the good outweighed it all, and his friendship with England was the closest one that he had now. And Japan could not allow the sombre Nation to break.
So he was there at the airport to assuage that curiosity. What could France mean by his remark-- Japan would know what when he saw them?
He was on his way down a short flight of stairs to where the delayed travelers had been escorted now that a (false) mechanical problem had been discovered upon the craft that was chartered for their group. And then, on the third step from the bottom, he heard it.
The ghost of a familiar laugh echoing from the area that he could see perhaps a dozen foreigners-- all with varying shades of hair, most taller than he-- the laugh was no louder than the others, but it was one that Japan hadn't heard for years--
He missed the last two steps, as he lost concentration and composure for that one moment, and fell. It couldn't--
“Oh, hey!” the ghost's voice preceded the realization that he'd attracted the attention of the group. “Are you okay there?”
Japan looked up, feeling his composure start to fray.
Those startlingly blue eyes looked back down at him with concern from behind a pair of round glasses. The face-- the face was the same, and yet not. Perhaps a little older-- and a long scar marred one cheek.
“Hey-- “ The voice asked again-- perhaps there were others speaking, but this voice was the only one he could hear. “Let me help. Are you hurt?”
The pose as the specter reached a hand down towards him, reminding him of the days following the bombs--
“Is he okay, Alain?” Another voice called, coming to the side of this... ordinary human.
“Maybe you should take over, Rob.” The friendly smile had faded just a fraction-- Japan had allowed the memories to make him hesitate too long. “I think... I'm too tall and scary or something.”
“No!” Japan gathered himself, suddenly reaching for that hand. It was warm, and alive-- and damn, but it was familiar. “I was just-- I didn't--”
This. This is what France had meant.
A surge of pain in his ankle distracted him from the chain of thought, and he nearly fell over once more, only to be caught in strong arms--
“Thanks, Rob.” Amer-- Alain said, “Can you help him over to the bench, so I can look at that ankle?”
“Not a problem, Alain.” The other man had caught him, and was now helping him to the bench, where suddenly the blond was prodding the ankle with the air of someone who was used to doing this.
“Who are you?” Japan found his voice when no longer under the familiar gaze. “Just-- who--”
“Looks like it's just a sprain. My equipment's still on the plane-- they probably have a kit behind the desk.” A brilliant grin was given to Japan as 'Rob' dashed off for the kit. “Don't worry. I'm a doctor.”
“Your name?” Japan asked again, wondering at the similarities. If England were here-- no wonder France wanted to meet him first. This was just a human with a similar build-- he could see the differences now. The young man holding his ankle was thinner, a bit more frail looking. Older. And then there was the scar-- “What is your name?”
“Ah. Introductions. My name is Alain England.” The same short laugh, and Japan wondered if the man even realized what language he was speaking. “And yours?”
*V*^*V*^*V*^
“Alain was my son's name.” Miss Nettie told them, as she poured the lemonade. (“Artificially flavored, I'm afraid-- the real stuff is too expensive to keep around these days.”) “He died in the service twenty years ago. And 'Al' had to be short for something, so when I took him in while he was going through therapy, we discussed it, and he took it on. Made it official, even.”
“It was kind of you.” Arthur said quietly, patting a green-eyed cat that had taken to him all too swiftly. “To give him some sort of stability when he needed it most.”
“There were a lot of people hurting, a lot of 'em in need-- but there was something about him...” Miss Nettie smiled fondly at him, golden glints in her eyes catching the morning light. “He was sick a lot in that first year-- most folks were getting back on their feet in no time. Al just struggled. And he was lonely--”
“He could have called me. Us.” Matthew sighed softly, voice not even making an echo. “I'm his twin-- he shouldn't have been blocking me out.”
“Twin?” Miss Nettie's head tilted slightly as she squinted at Matthew. “You mean younger brother, right? You do look similar.”
“Um.”
“We're both older than we look. Baby faces run in his family.” Arthur lied quickly. “Now, about Al-- why did he not call, or write? You said you found him--”
“Honey, if he could have given us any information to get in contact with you, we would've gotten ahold of you any way we could. We weren't even sure he was gonna make it for a while.” Miss Nettie sipped her lemonade calmly, “He came stumbling out of a burning store, wrapped around a little girl he'd found. We found her parents easily-- they were on the sidewalk-- but neither of them knew who he was. By then, he was unconscious. She was the one who told us that his name was 'Al'-- and that he'd said something else that sounded like 'England'. He saved her, and protected her. She was fine.”
“But surely he--” Arthur felt a chill. Alfred had to have been hurting before he performed that last 'heroic' act. America and children-- there was no way he could have resisted the need to help a small child. “He must have had identification on him!”
“I don't know how he survived, myself.” Miss Nettie shook her head. “Fifty years in the medical field, fifteen in the ER, and I've never seen someone as badly burned as that survive. His clothes were either burned, charred, or melted to his skin. The only thing that survived was a piece of jewelry that he'd had on a chain around his neck. When he woke up... he it took him a week to talk. He couldn't tell us anything.”
“Al...” Arthur heard Matthew whisper, but could not provide comfort. It might have been a decade ago, but Alfred-- his Alfred. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to vomit or cry.
“He's much better now. A lot better than most burn victims can expect-- the only thing that hasn't healed is his memory. And since there was no one who could identify him, we sent his picture off. After the first year, he decided he couldn't just sit around and wait. I gave him my son's name, and he took the other word that we'd told him he'd said before collapsing-hoping that it would maybe lead to a clue. Alain kept moving, and trying to rebuild. He found Iggy there, and brought him home the night he told me what he wanted to do next.”
“And... what was that?” The lemonade was dreadful, barely a hint of lemon, and more of sweet. But Arthur needed it. Needed something stronger, really, but he'd given up most of that when he realized it wasn't helping.
“He wanted to help people. The cat was a start-- but he wanted to help kids. Which makes sense, considering that he got hurt saving one in the first place.” Miss Nettie smiled. “He's a pediatric trauma specialist. Youngest in his group.”
Arthur's brain froze for a moment, at the thought. He knew Alfred was brighter than he acted, but--- all he could do was stare at their hostess.
The peripheral glance of Matthew told him that Canada's mouth was hanging open. For a moment, Arthur wondered if his own was as well.
Miss Nettie was laughing. At the two of them.
“Underestimated him, didn't you?” The cat chose that moment to yawn, stretch, and take a leap over to Miss Nettie. “He acts like a giant child at times-- but that's what it is. Just an act. The kids love him for it, and the adults love him for being able to get their kids to cooperate.”
“The woman at the hospital-- and you-- where is he?” Matthew finally spoke. “We need to- It's just been so long-- and--”
Keeping his eyes on Miss Nettie's face, Arthur was unable to voice a plea. Let him be somewhere safe, that can be easily--
“He's gone to Korea-- the zone. They were looking for someone good with kids, and he volunteered.”
Arthur felt his heart drop. If North Korea figured out who he was-- or worse, if China figured out-- or even Russia--
“He should be landing within the next few hours. Alain promised to call as soon as he landed, before they head out to the field.” Arthur's eyes went to the old-fashioned clock in the corner, wondering if they had time to do anything, but realising that they didn't. There was no way that they could stop Alfred now. He just had to hope. “Wait with me, and you can talk to him. I know it's not as good as face to face contact, but-- it's something.”
There was no help for it. Even Matthew's face showed the same concerns. They would wait.
(Sorry for delays. Prepping for con this weekend. Hoping to post more soon, but no promises-- will post pictures of the cosplays.)