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April 1, 2013
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You frown as you don’t get an answer from England’s phone for the third time today. You wanted something to do and were going to see if he wanted to come over. As far as you’re aware, neither he nor you had anything important to be doing – and if there was something important you should be doing like attending a meeting, you’re sure Germany would have yelled at you down the phone by now.
It had started to rain this morning and the rumble of thunder and flashes of lightning had begun to accompany it a little later, which had put you off going outside, but seeing England would be nice if you could just get a damn answer from him!
You shrug and pick up your car keys along with the spare key to his place that he’d given you, just in case. He always answers the phone, so you find his lack of communication with you a little strange and worrying.
As you drive over to his place, you try his phone again, but, again, not getting an answer. The rain hammers against the windows, even obstructing your view a little. The lightning is uncomforting, but you ignore it until you get to England’s house.
“Okay. One… two… three!” you say to yourself before diving out of the car, locking it quickly and then running up the steps to the front door. You knock loudly, getting soaked through as you wait for an answer.
…No. Just like you expected, you don’t get one, so you find his key in your pocket and let yourself in. It didn’t take long to get completely drenched, your clothes now dripping, your hair sticking flat to you.
“England?” you call, “Iggy, you home?!”
The first place you check is the lounge, and then the kitchen. On the counter by the kettle there’s a cup with tea in it, ready to be filled with hot water, but England isn’t here.
Bedroom?
As you approach his room, you can hear sniffling, clearly telling you that this is where your friend is.
Is he sick? If he is, then you’re gonna take care of him, no matter what he says. You remember the last time he was sick. America put a burger on his head. You didn’t really understand his remedy, but whatever it was supposed to do didn’t work as he expected.
The door to England’s bedroom is open just a little, but it’s enough to allow you to see the Brit. He’s huddled on the floor, leaning against his bed, his arms crossed on his knees, resting his head on his arms. He’s got headphones on, the union flag design across each ear, as if he’s trying to block the world out.
You bite your lip, wondering if he’s genuinely trying to avoid everyone. What could possibly be wrong with him?
This is the point when you open the door slowly, causing him to look open at you. His eyes widen at first, allowing you to see that they’re red and wet with tears, but he turns his head away, resting it back on his arms.
You walk over and sit next to him, pulling the headphones off.
“England, what’s wrong?”
“________, just leave me alone, alright?” he mumbles, sniffing.
“No. I’ve never seen you like this. What’s going on?” You pause and wait for an answer, but when you don’t get one, you say, “England. C’mon, I won’t say a word.” You run your hand down his arm and slip your hand into his, causing his arms to unfold.
“…Arthur,” you whisper. He turns his head to face you at the sound of his human name, looking up at you with a heartbroken expression, but there’s also fear in his eyes.
“I won’t say anything to anyone. I promise,” you say. He reaches up with his other hand, clutching yours with both of his. His grip tightens when a rumble of thunder booms through the house, closing his eyes tightly.
“_-________... you wouldn’t understand,” he replies.
You put your arm around him and he shakes as the tears roll down his cheeks.
“Arthur, I’ll listen and do what I can. There must be something-”
“The thunder.”
You stop speaking when he interrupts. Did he say the thunder? …He’s scared of the storm? You sigh with relief, “Oh, Iggy, everyone’s scared of something. Yours happens to be storms, and that’s oka-”
He shakes his head, “No, it’s not just a simple fear. ________, I can’t… It’s just… every time it thunders I get really sad and scared.”
You frown, listening to his speak. This is something deeper than just a fear. You have honestly never seen him like this before, and it’s scaring you.
“I… I try to block it out, but I can’t…”
He lets go of your hands and covers his eyes with his hands, gritting his teeth, “All I can think of is that day. The day America left me…”
You cover your mouth with your hand, realising what the problem is. You had heard the story before, of course. The American Revolutionary War.





”Hey, Britain. All I want is my freedom. I am no longer a child, nor your little brother. From now on, consider me independent!”





“I won’t allow it! You idiot! Why can’t you follow anything through to the end?

……There’s no way I can shoot you. I can’t… Why? Damn it, why?! It’s not fair…”





“You know why… What happened? I remember when you were great.”






“England, I…” you pause, trying to find the words, “I…”
Instead, you just wrap your arms around him. He turns to you and presses his face into your neck, letting the tears fall, his arms returning the hug.
“________, I can’t stand it. Why is it so hard?!” he sobs.
“I’m sorry, England…” you kiss his forehead and stroke his hair gently, letting him relax against you. You both stay like this for about an hour, almost in silence, you occasionally whispering comforting things into his ear.
“Let’s go into the lounge, I’ll make you some tea, alright?” you offer. He nods slowly and you both get to your feet. He takes you hand and you go through to the lounge, telling him to take a seat as you go into the kitchen. The kettle seems to boil for ages as you wait as patiently as England is.
When it’s done, you make the tea and take it to him, sitting on the floor next to his armchair so that you can keep hold on his hand.
“________,” he says, his green eyes focused on you.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t leave me alone…”
You smile gently, “I won’t.”
“Do you… do you promise?
You lean forward and kiss his forehead again, “I won’t. I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”
I wanted to write this after seeing and being inspired by this [link] by :iconfliff: because of the feels I got! D:
So many feels... :iconemoenglandplz:

Anyway, hope you like it :)

Pic not mine, found on google, any mistakes pointed out would be appreciated :)

I own nothing but the wordyness (apart from the words I took from this [link]) ;)
Add a Comment:
 
:iconmochi-bounce:
Mochi-Bounce Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2014
Awe poor Iggy! xc 
DA FEELS
onion sad LoveWithABrokenHeart 
Reply
:iconmarshmallow-maraca:
Marshmallow-Maraca Featured By Owner Jul 12, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Glad you liked it~
ikr my poor little Iggy :/
Reply
:iconnihanna88:
Nihanna88 Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2014
  Romano (Cries) [V4] France (Crying) [V3] Pikachu crying   God.Poor England. Fool Emoji-37 (Waving and Crying) [V3]
Reply
:iconmarshmallow-maraca:
Marshmallow-Maraca Featured By Owner Jun 23, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Poor bby~

Glad you liked it ;)
Reply
:iconfangirlhetalia:
FANGIRLHetalia Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Dis is sad. I ALMOST cried for once.....WHY?????? WHY DA SAD STORY??!!
Other than that, beautifulness!!~
Reply
:iconmarshmallow-maraca:
Marshmallow-Maraca Featured By Owner Jun 23, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Sorry! But I'm glad you liked it~
Reply
:iconigame101:
IGame101 Featured By Owner May 15, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
:iconicantomgplz: :iconimsodoneplz:
Reply
:iconmarshmallow-maraca:
Marshmallow-Maraca Featured By Owner May 18, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Uhhh... glad you liked it?
Reply
:iconemos4nymphies:
Emos4nymphies Featured By Owner May 4, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
*cries along with Iggy* Poor England, I want to hug him and hold him until we die Dx *sobs*
Reply
:iconmarshmallow-maraca:
Marshmallow-Maraca Featured By Owner May 7, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
I know, I feel sorry for the poor bby~
Reply
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