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It ate Alfred alive.
How could it not? There were so many ideas about what he should be from his own citizens. What could be right or wrong. What people were willing to stand for, and what hills they were willing to die on. Even the way his own government was being run. Everything was so divided.
He hadn’t felt this way since the Civil War. Back then he was powerless. Some sort of force was physically holding him back from fighting for the side he wanted to. All he could do was sit there, and watch, and hope things settled soon. He could practically feel the blood of his citizens dripping from his body during it all. When it was over, he was one of the ones cheering the loudest because the north had won. Maybe, just maybe, the country could start healing.
But that was 161 years ago. And now? Things were now at their boiling point in the present. His boss seemed to run his country on pure hatred. Alfred knew this was the worst he had ever felt. With the Civil War, he felt like he was being torn in half. Now it felt like he was being torn to shreds.
But he was supposed to be the hero, right? He didn’t fight for his independence for nothing, right? Alfred fought tooth and nail out in the front lines so that he could be free. But after over two centuries of being beaten down by his government and citizens, he didn’t feel free anymore. All he was now was a mouth piece for his boss. Because some ungodly force kept him from fighting back against him.
Alfred laid on his bedroom floor and sobbed. It never should have come to this. He screamed and cried at the pain he was feeling, both emotional and physical. This wasn’t what freedom was supposed to be.
Freedom wasn’t a toy. It wasn’t meant for only the rich. It wasn’t only meant for the “ultra righteous”. It was supposed to for everyone! But he could feel it there too. People using the freedom he fought so hard for to destroy the lives of others just because they could. People were literally dying out on the streets because those in power decided things like food and shelter were a privilege and not a right. People were dying of sickness because insurance companies couldn’t keep their promises. People were dying because the Earth was sick because people were destroying it for monetary gain. People were dying because they were being forced to work to death.
It killed Alfred. More and more each day. It made him wish he had never fought for his independence in the first place. He had been wishing more and more that he had stayed with Arthur. That maybe he could convince the other nation to take him back, and go back to how things were before. But Arthur would never do that. He knew Arthur hated him.
And still he had to put on a front. he had to wear the mask. “I’m the hero!” he’d shout at the top of his lungs. And he tried so hard to believe it before. He wanted so desperately to be the hero. But now the word itself made him feel ill. He knew he was lying every time he said it.
It had come to a point that he hated even looking in a mirror now. He couldn’t lie to his reflection. He could try, but it never worked. Alfred could see how hollow is eyes had become. How tired he looked. How pale his skin had become. He truly hated himself.
“I don’t know how much more I can take.” Alfred whispered to himself. He started sitting up slowly from the floor. He winced in pain and looked down at his arms and the deep gashes he covered them with. “Fuck. I can’t wear short sleeves anymore.” He shook his head and looked around him. The scissors he had used on himself were next to him, and the room around him was a mess. Empty bottles of various alcoholic beverages he kept in his closet for safe keeping were strewn about. And there was blood on the floor from where he had attacked his own body. He couldn’t even find his glasses. But he didn’t feel anything for the mess. He looked around the room and noticed a case of German beer next to his bed. It had been a gift from Germany a while ago. Alfred smiled weakly. “Might as well enjoy it.”
He crawled over to the bed and leaned against the side of it. He groaned the entire time from the massive headache that decided to hit him. He carefully opened the case and grabbed a bottle from it. He clasped his teeth around the cap to pop it open. Arthur had always told him that doing that was going to break his teeth. At this particular moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He took a few gulps of the beer and sighed. It was good stuff. He’d have to thank Germany later. That was the last thought he had before he became dizzy again. He smiled as he drifted off to sleep.
……………………………….
Mathew, Arthur, and Kiku knocked on the door to Alfred’s house. They had come to check on him because no one had heard from him in months. It was unlike him to be so quiet for so long. Mathew was the most worried, and Kiku had tagged along hoping to talk with his friend. Arthur seemed grumpy, but secretly he was also deeply worried about Alfred. He kept fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket.
“He’s not answering.” Mathew said after the fifth time knocking.
“Hold on. I lived with him for a while. I think he still keeps a spare key in a secret rock by the storm drain.” Kiku said, looking around.
“You think we should break in? What if he’s just not home?” Mathew looked nervous.
“He’s either in there, or he isn’t. We need to check just in case he’s pouting about something rubbish!” Arthur said as he walked over to the storm drain. The secret rock was easy enough to find. He picked up and got the key out of it. “Stupid. You’d think he would be more careful. Honestly, what an idiot.”
“Name calling will not get us anywhere. If America is in trouble, he will need support.” Kiku spoke softly, but firmly. Arthur scoffed as he walked back to the front door and unlocked it.
The three countries made their way inside. And all three of them shuddered. The very energy of the enormous house was ominous. It didn’t help that all the lights were off, and there wasn’t a sound to be heard. Alfred would always have some sort of music playing. Or there was always a housekeeper or two working. But there was nothing. Just darkness and deathly silence.
“Something’s wrong.” Mathew spoke first. His eyes were wide as he looked around. He felt along the wall until he found a light switch. The front hallway and living room were bathed in light. And all three of them gasped at what they found.
A large American flag was torn to shreds. Fabric was strewn about everywhere. And the pictures of all of Alfred’s bosses were shattered and scattered all over the room. Broken glass was everywhere.
“What the bloody hell…” Arthur was the first one to speak. He had known deep down that Alfred wasn’t alright. But to think it had come to this…
“We need to search the house.” Kiku said, his voice firm and strict. “Look all over. I will start in the back yard. Canada, you check the downstairs. England, you check the upstairs.” Mathew nodded and ran to the kitchen while Kiku ran back out the door. Arthur walked to the staircase, slowly climbing the steps as he looked around him.
It wasn’t just the living room. The halls were torn apart. There were dozens of holes in the walls where they had been punched. Pictures and knick knacks were either broken or thrown around. Arthur had never seen Alfred’s house like this. He gulped down a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It was all too familiar to him.
A long time ago, Arthur had broken down in a very similar way. He destroyed everything in his path. He hurt himself and others around him. He winced at the memories. He also knew Alfred. He knew the man would rather hurt himself before others. He looked towards the end of the hall and found a door that was slightly open. He steeled himself, praying to whatever god might be listening that he wouldn’t find what he thought he’d find. He walked over to the door and opened it more. What he saw made his blood run cold.
There was Alfred, leaning back against his bed and covered in blood. His arms were littered with long and deep cuts. And he was unconscious.
“Oh god, America!” Arthur ran into the room, swearing as he nearly tripped over a few vodka bottles. He kneeled down next to Alfred, going to touch his shoulders, but hesitating to do so.
He knew just as much as the other countries knew: they can’t really die. Not unless their countries were irradicated. And even then, death wasn’t always guaranteed. But the pain is always guaranteed. Along with the mental and physical scars.
Arthur’s throat was dry as he looked at Alfred. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. How could he have been so blind to how Alfred was feeling? How could he not see through the man’s mask? Anger at himself built up in his chest as he took Alfred’s hand in his.
“You idiot. Why the bloody hell did you not say anything? Were you too hung up on being the hero to ask for help? You’re so stupid! I-” Arthur sobbed, clinging to Alfred’s hand tighter. He took a deep breath before facing the door. “CANADA! JAPAN! HE’S IN HIS ROOM! I NEED HELP!” He practically screamed. He immediately heard their footsteps bounding up the stairs. He turned back to Alfred.
“We’re going to help you, got it? We’ll get you all the help you need. It’s going to be okay.” Arthur suddenly had a flashback to when Alfred was little and still living with him. The boy had scraped his knee tripping over his own two feet.
“You little bugger.” Arthur sighed as he cleaned the scrape for a pouting little Alfred. “Don’t worry, I’ll always be there to clean you up when you need me.”
That memory seemed so far away now. But here was Alfred, needing help to get cleaned up. Arthur took a deep breath. He could barely hear the voices of Kiku and Mathew as they screamed and ran to find any sort of first aide kit.
“Ameri- Alfred, we’re here for you now. There’s nothing to worry about, alright? You’re safe now.” Arthur whispered as he leaned up and brought Alfred into his arms, resting his face on top of his head. “I’ve got you now.”
“Arthur…” Arthur gasped and immediately let go of Alfred. He looked down to see him looking at him. Alfred’s eyes looked empty and tired. “Arthur…what are you doing here…”
“You big oaf, we came to check on you. Me, Canada, and Japan. They’re looking for something to clean and wrap you back up.”
“Don’t want too…don’t deserve it…”
“Like hell you don’t!” Arthur moved so he was in front of Alfred now. He took his face into his hands, forcing the man to look at him. “You listen to me Alfred F. Jones. You are the one person I care about in this godforsaken world. I won’t let you hurt yourself. You put up such a fuss about being the hero. It’s high time you let others be your hero for a change. Rely on your friends, damn it! You deserve to feel loved!”
“England!” A voice behind Arthur took him out of his rant. He turned to find Kiku standing behind him with a box of medical supplies. Mathew was next to him holding some wet towels. “I know you are hurting, but we need to clean him up. Hold his hand while we work.” Kiku spoke softly. Arthur nodded and moved back so he was sitting next to Alfred again.
“It’s going to be okay.” Mathew tried to sound reassuring, even though he was crying now, too. “Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll get him away from all this. Maybe we’ll take him to Hawaii or something. Just some place he can calm down for a while.”
“I think he might like that.” Arthur’s voice was quiet. He felt useless. He had become so emotional that he couldn’t even help. All he could do was hold Alfred’s hand while Kiku and Mathew worked. He took a deep breath when he felt Alfred squeeze his hand a little.
“Sorry guys…I’m a mess…” Alfred whispered.
“It’s okay, Alfred. That’s why we’re here. We came to check on you. I’m glad we did.” Mathew said as he wiped away more blood. He set aside the towel he was using and picked up a new one. “You’re not alone anymore. We’re here for you.”
“It is true.” Kiku said as he carefully applied bandages over Alfred’s arms. “We may have our moments of disagreements. But that does not mean we do not care about you. Never forget that.”
The four of them fell silent after that. Arthur tried desperately to calm down. He looked around the room more. Amongst the empty bottles of alcohol were giant splashes of blood with a pair of scissors next to them. He winced, closed his eyes, and held Alfred’s hand even tighter as he choked back a sob.
……………………………………….
The sound of scrubbing woke Alfred up. He slowly opened his eyes and winced at what he assumed was sunlight. He tried to get his bearings right. Where was he? He moved his arms a little and hissed in pain. He did feel his blankets, though, so he must be in bed. But how did he get in bed? Last thing he remembered, he was sitting on the floor drinking another beer. He tried to think. His head was killing him, but he had to try.
Little by little, some very foggy memories came back to him. There was someone crying. Maybe more than one person. The voices were familiar, but everything felt like it was under water. He remembered what he had done to his house and body and groaned in frustration. Explaining the mess to housekeeping wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe he’d give them some vacation days so he could clean it up himself.
Speaking of cleaning, there was that scrubbing sound again. Alfred laid there for a moment before it finally clicked with him that, oh shit, someone was already cleaning his house! He sat upright quickly. Too quickly. He cringed at the searing pain that flooded his body, especially his arms. He looked down at them and noticed they were bandaged up. When the hell did that happen!?
“What’s going on?” He whispered to no one in particular. He squinted as he looked around to try and find his glasses. He found them on the night stand next to his bed. It took a lot of effort, but he was able to grab them and put them on. Now that he could see better, he took another look around. Sure enough, there was someone with a bucket of soapy water and a scrubbing brush going at the blood on the floor. They looked like they were too lost in thought to notice that Alfred had even woken up.
“Arthur? Is that you?” Alfred asked in surprise. The sound of his name being said must have finally broken him from his stupor. Arthur looked up. His eyes were wide. Alfred could see that they looked swollen and puffy. Had he been crying?
“Thank god you’re awake!” Arthur said as he dropped the brush and stood up to rush to Alfred’s side. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Alfred’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Thank god for that, too. How are you feeling?”
“I’m tired. And in a lot of pain. It really hurts.”
“I believe it. You did a real number on yourself, you know that?”
“Arthur, what are you even doing here.” Alfred asked before he began coughing. He hadn’t realized just how dry his throat was.
“Here, drink this.” Arthur said as he reached down the side of the bed and grabbed a water bottle, unscrewing the cap for Alfred. “Drink it slowly. I’d hate to see you go into shock from drinking too fast. What with all the alcohol you swallowed.” Alfred gratefully took the water and slowly sipped from it. After a little bit he sighed and handed it back to Arthur.
“Thanks, man. That helped a lot.”
“Good. You’re welcome.”
The two of them sat in silence for a moment, not really sure how to approach the elephant in the room. Finally, Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked at Alfred pointedly, ready to demand answers,
“What the bloody hell happened? We came to check on you, only to find you made a right mess of your house and body.” He started calmly. But Alfred could see the multitude of emotions in the other man’s eyes.
“We? Whose “we”?” Alfred asked, remembering now that there had been other voices in his muddy memory.
“Canada, Japan, and myself. We hadn’t heard from you in ages. We were worried that something had happened and came to check on you.” Arthur glanced down at Alfred’s arms sadly. “I’m glad we did.”
Alfred began fidgeting his fingers as he looked down at his hands in shame. He balled them into trembling fists as he felt tears stinging his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Arthur.
“After all the shit I’ve done, why the hell would you guys even care? I don’t get it. I don’t understand at all. I thought you guys hated me.” Alfred choked back sobs until his voice was just a whisper. “Especially you.”
Arthur sat there in stunned silence for a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say. But then he grabbed Alfred’s face in his hands, the way he had the day before, but this time much gentler as he had Alfred look at him. There were tears in his eyes now as well.
“I never hated you.” He began. “Never. Not for a second. I was angry. I was angry at everyone and everything. And I took a lot of it out on you. That was never right of me. You’re the person I care about more than anyone else in the world. You’re my brother. I’ve always thought of you that way. Even when you fought for independence. I’ve always loved you. As much as I denied it to myself, I was always quietly cheering for you. You constantly tell everyone that you’re the hero. And you don’t even know…” Arthur let go of Alfred’s face and brought him in a tight hug. “You don’t even know that you’re my hero.”
Alfred sat in stunned silence. Had Arthur always felt this way? Had he really cared that much this entire time? Tears started pouring now. He returned the hug as much as he could as he began bawling. Letting out a sadness he never knew was in him. After centuries of feeling alone, he now, finally felt like he was being loved by the big brother he cared so much about. The two of them held each other for a long time before the sound of someone clearing their throat pulled them back to the present. They pulled away from each other and looked towards the door to find Kiku and Mathew standing there. Mathew had tears of his own in his eyes and Kiku was smiling fondly.
“It seems you two have resolved some problems. Or at least have begun to.” Kiku said as he walked into the room. He was holding what looked like a new, large medical kit. "I am afraid I have to look at your arms now, America. We need to make sure they don’t get infected. That would only cause far more pain for you.”
“Right. Thanks.” Alfred said as he pulled away from Arthur, who got off the bed and sighed as he stood up.
“I guess I should finish scrubbing the floor. I may have failed to clean you up, but I can at least clean up the mess for you.” He gave Alfred a soft smile before crouching down to the floor to get back to scrubbing.
“Is there anything you want to eat?” Mathew asked with a soft smile of his own. “Anything you want. I’ll whip it up as fast as I can.”
“Just something small. Like toast, maybe? With jam and butter.” Alfred sighed contentedly. “That would be awesome.”
“Coming right up.” Mathew left quickly to go get the food ready.
Alfred closed his eyes as he was being worked on. He hadn’t felt this loved in so long. It was almost too much. Not just from Arthur, but from Kiku and Mathew too. To know that there were at least a few people who actually cared about him enough to check on him? To help him when he needed it? That was enough to fill his heart with a warmth that he hadn’t felt in several decades. He could still feel the stress that his country was causing him. That wasn’t going away anytime soon. But maybe now, with people that cared about him, maybe he could find a way to start healing the hurt.
Just maybe, things might start to be okay.