Arthur walked to the door slowly. He held his hand to chest as if he had to hold himself back from knocking on the door. But, in all truth, he was worried to death about his son, Alfred. Everyone was aware of Alfred’s economic crash, of course which resulted in them screaming at him- including Arthur himself. He soon felt guilty for being so hard about Alfred’s rash, rushed decision. Yes, Alfred was a total foolish idiot sometimes but all honesty countries hit economic hard times at some point and anyone who was yelling, surely had to be a hypocrite in some way. He gently knocked on the door, after standing for 5 whole minutes, he had no response. He knocked again, causing him to fiddle with the doorknob eventually. The doorknob turned with ease, this was odd; the door was usually locked, Alfred was inviting but since the Great Depression flooded over him, his door was locked. Arthur came the day he heard the stock market crashed. He regretted yet at the same time coming that day, because the scene he saw was not one to be taken easily.
Ivan had been standing in Alfred’s yard, Toris was being watched like some form of prey. The snowy demeanored country only smiled innocently, saying that Toris was ‘coming back home’, that he was ‘going to be a better suited enviroment’, saying all sorts of things in the most convincing manner. He watched Alfred’s face; stern, stoic, it was his way of showing hurt. He forced a shaky smile and hugged Toris. Toris was sobbing hysterically, begging in Lithuanian to not go, saying how much he liked it at Alfred’s. Ivan walked a way for a minute, heading toward his boss’s car. Toris took the chance and snuck a kiss on Alfred’s lips, a tone of native Lithuanain was heard, Alfred smiled genuinely for a second. But quickly faded back to his dark stoic look as Ivan came back, took the arm of Lithuania, and basically dragged him like a ragdoll to the car. Alfred waved, but the second the car was out of his vicinity, he fell onto the ground; sobbing and screaming incoherently. Arthur ran up to the scene at this point. He grabbed his son into a hug without thinking. Alfred was startled, of course.
“Why are you here?!” He screamed, anger only worsening.
“I was here to check on you after I heard what happened at the meeting, I wasn’t expecting this much.” He tried to keep himself from staying out of the way of Alfred’s rage, he knew how strong the country was.
“Ah, that, when Toris was dragged away from me! The only reason Ivan ever bothered to step here was because Toris agreed to go with him if he could gather a few things from here for memory’s sake. It’s not fair! We know Ivan is far from the definition of stable and safe. I’m going to fucking kill that commie bastard the second my economy gets stable! I know what harm he can do and he tries so well to hide it.”
Arthur rubbed Alfred’s back as it moved with sobs of rage and sadness.
“You’re only going to cause more war that way, it’s best to let things be. I know you want to protect Toris but it’ll make it worse, you’ll only risk his safety and your safety more.”
He lead Alfred into his house as it had begun to rain. Alfred was weakening though, he could tell already. Alfred instantly went up to his room. When Arthur agreed to leave, after making sure Alfred wasn’t going to hurt himself or anyone, Alfred asked him to the lock the door and not ever let anyone open it again.
As he walked the front door, he locked it, obeying Alfred’s wantings, it’s the least he could for the broken nation.
Arthur turned the door knob and walked inside the house. It was cloudy but the house had no lights on, making it dark with a few blotches of faded sunlight here and there. The living room was undisturbed, a vintage style chair sat beside the window. It was perfectly cleaned, so was the small table beside it. The couch was perfectly in order with pillows and everything. Books neatly organized on the shelf, he looked to the left; where the kitchen connected. This is what shocked Arthur the most, everything was perfectly clean. There was no cooking utensils to be seen, all tucked in shelves and drawers as he quietly opened them. The sink was empty. He looked into the oven, it had not been used in a while he judged. He looked into the fridge, barely anything was seen. His heart shuddered as he walked up the stairs; an instant smell of cigarette smoke and strong alcohol welcomed him. He heard a lazy hum of a radio, he stood outside Alfred’s bedroom door. He tried to recognize the song. He listened to the lyrics closely.
“You might find the night time the right time for kissing
But night time is my time for just reminiscing
Regretting instead of forgetting with somebody else
There'll be no else unless that someone is you”
He listened closer, he could hear sobbing, he could only imagine the pain he was going through. He quietly walked down the hallway, he looked into a room he guessed which Toris stayed in because there was a note, written in Lithuanian, laying on the bed.
He turned back around the hallway, focusing on the song again as its eerie echoes of the lyrics made their way down the hallway.
“I intend to be independently blue
I want your love but I don't want to borrow
I have it today and give back tomorrow
For my love is your love but there's no love for nobody else”
He put his hand on the door and turned the knob. Again, it was unlocked; had Alfred expected someone? He opened the door with a slow creak, a green eye peaked in at the depressed country. He stepped on foot in, allowing himself to be seen. But the blue eyed country didn’t even bother to look or flinch as the figure made its way into the room. Arthur was horrified and heartbroken when he saw what state his son was in. Dead cigarettes laid all around the floor and the bed, burn stains on the carpet and bed sheets. Alcohol bottles lazily scattered across the floor. There was only a small sign of actual eating, a plate that had been sitting on the table beside the wrecked bed for possibly weeks. Alfred was curled up like an injured animal in the middle of his bed, sheets wrapped tightly around him. He was sobbing, the radio sat beside his bed; his only companion now. A book was at the end, it possessed no title but Arthur didn’t want to pry into his business. He fully stepped into the room and sat on the only chair, which was oddily clear from the sad debris.
“Alfred?” He said as gentle as possible.
A noise, muffled, came as a response.
“I know you know I’m here, please, I know you are not at the best state obviously, but do not give up. You are one the greatest nations and will always be, these hard times will pass.”
“Lies, just like the ones Ivan said to me.”
“What are you speaking of?”
“He said Toris would be safe, Toris somehow sent a letter to me-“ His voice was caught by sobs.
“You don’t have to tell me anymore if you don’t want to.”
Alfred turned on his back and slightly propped himself up; he attempted to make teary eye contact with Arthur.
“Arthur, he lied, Toris is hurt, bad. I could just tell by his writing.”
“Hurt? Like, physically?”
“I don’t know, I’m so worried about him, whether it be physical, mental, or emotion, he’s getting hurt somehow I can just sense it.”
Arthur sighed, he now moved to the end of his bed, he expected Alfred to be in rage but even the depression killed that part of him.
“The economy’s not the only thing that’s crashing, Arthur.”