This was a prompt I got off the LJ meme, but since LJ's so confusing and I'm so stupid, I just decided to publish it here. Basically, America has fallen into a depression, but instead of England or Russia or some other nation trying to take over, his own government (which has been badly corrupted) decides to take its own country hostage. Trust me, the story is much better than how I'm trying (and failing) to describe it.

Ch. 1: A visit

Washington DC, 2050

Arthur ground his teeth. The snow was falling heavily now, swirling in the air, and creating random patterns. It was a beautiful winter day, and had he not been quiet so angry and frustrated, he might have paused to enjoy his surroundings. It wasn't like this was the first time something like this had happened. He had lived for a couple thousand years now. Coups and governmental upheavals were by no means new to him. But not to him, Arthur thought, as he kicked up some more snow, no. Never to him.

His destination was approaching, and Arthur slowed, peering up at the great white building that stood before him, dark, imposing. Once he had looked forward to coming here, to seeing that bright smile, those beautiful eyes, but now….

"The United States of America will now be withdrawing from the world stage and focusing on domestic rather than international issues."

Arthur tensed in anger as the memory flashed through his mind…the blank expression, the bags under his eyes, the wearied slump in his shoulders and general posture…How? How had it happened? Alfred had been fine, laughing, animated, so full of life…and then…then…Arthur paused, sucking in a dry sob. He had to be strong. He only knew too well how these sick games worked. You showed one sign of weakness, one emotion, and it was over. Arthur was a master at this particular game. He had played it for centuries, keeping his heart carefully guarded, his emotions under lock and key. He had never lost it, never fallen to any others. However, this time, it would be different. His opponents had been able to get hold of his greatest weakness, the one key to his heart…Arthur stood there and closed his eyes, letting the snow swirl around him, relaxing and regaining control over his emotions. When he opened them, something had changed. The dull gleam in his eyes had transformed into something altogether much more frightening. I am the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. I civilized half the world, ruled an empire. I am the lion, the dragon, the unicorn. And I bow to nobody. I did not fall to the French, I did not fall to the Germans, he looked up, his eyes boring into the White House and I will not fall to these bloody traitors who dare claim to be Americans.

He stepped forward, through the gate, his face blank save his eyes, bright green and dangerous. Nobody fucked with the United Kingdom, and nobody fucked with anything the United Kingdom cared about.

"Ah! Mr. Kirkland! So glad you could make it." The man before him was disgusting in every sort of way and manner. He was short, shorter than Arthur, and obviously lived a life of luxury. His piggy eyes squinted out under layers of flesh, and flab seemed to be on the verge of exploding out of every opening of the expensive suit he wore. He sat behind the desk, the same desk where Arthur had seen great men at, had seen great men working at, and for some reason, this, more than anything he had seen so far, drove the country nearly insane. Calm down, boy Arthur steadied himself and forced his lips into a smile that was as fake as the man's before him. "I'm glad I could come too, Mr. President." He responded smoothly, his voice deep and rich, completely hiding what he really felt.

The man smirked in a self-satisfied way before continuing, "Now, as you know, the United States of America has adopted a policy of near-complete isolation. However, because of the "special relationship" that once existed between the United States and the United Kingdom, my people have graced you with the chance to speak with me, on, as you put it, "an urgent matter"?" he looked up at Arthur, the smirk still present on his face.

Arthur nodded and sat down, "Yes. I'm not going to beat around the bush", he said, his voice suddenly taking on a sharp and dangerous edge, "I'm here to see Alfred."

Whatever the man opposite him had expected, it certainly was not that, or at least not that stated in such a blunt manner. His eyes widened a fraction of an inch (how they managed to do that underneath all that fat, Arthur could not fathom) and a look of surprise flitted across his face. However, it was gone in a second, replaced once again by that infuriating smirk that made Arthur want to reach out and strangle him. "Ah…well you see" the fake President simpered, "I'm afraid Alfred isn't up to seeing anyone. He doesn't want to see you. I'm sorry. Now if that's it-"

"No" Arthur cut him off, his voice dropping down so that it was barely over a whisper, "Mr. President I asked to see Alfred. If Alfred does not want to see me, he will tell me himself. To my face"

The fat man considered Arthur a second, then smiled, a sickly sweet expression. "I don't see why not." He said. "Wait here. I'll go get him for you."

With that, the man hopped from his chair, and waddled out of the room, leaving Arthur to stare at the portraits of the dead American patriots that adorned the room.

A few minutes later, and the President came back. Trailing behind him was Alfred, wearing a nice, clean suit. Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat as he ran his eyes quickly over his former colony. To any other onlooker, Alfred would have looked fine. A bit tired, perhaps, but overall, not too bad. However, Arthur's trained eyes caught all the little details; Alfred's arm was held at a somewhat strange angle, and his belly was not the usual flat abs that the young nation prided himself so on. It had swollen very slightly, partially hidden by the loose shirt the man wore, but Arthur could easily see through the cover-up. They're starving him he realized, the anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. And the young nation…Arthur saw red and had to grip the armrest of the chair to keep himself from just vomiting…he was limping. It was a slight limp, barely noticeable, but Arthur saw it, saw everything, and felt such complete and utter rage at the implications that the limp presented. These fucking….Arthur found himself incoherent for the first time in his life.

"Well, here's Alfred." the president said once he had waddled back over to Arthur, "Now talk."


The obese man glared up at Arthur, "Fine" he said coldly, "But be sure that you get in everything you want to say, as this will be the last time you will be speaking to him in a long time." he started to head to the exit, " Oh," he called over his shoulder, "And know that I have cameras in this room. Everything you say will be recorded."

Arthur smirked at the man, "I know. I would like a transcript of everything said, in fact."

The President snorted out "Fine." And was gone.

Arthur turned to Alfred. "Al…" he said, and remembering the cameras, "All you alright?"

The young nation stared at him, and Arthur nearly collapsed. His eyes were so blank, so dead, so tired. He was pale, and now that Arthur was closer to him, he could clearly see the results of the abuse the fucking bastards had inflicted upon him. His face was thin and worn. His eyes seemed too big for his sockets, and his entire frame was slightly shaking from sleep-deprivation. However, as he looked upon Arthur, something seemed to stir in the back of his eyes, and he responded in a voice that had gone hoarse from hours of screaming followed by further hours silence, "Yes, well, I haven't hunted rabbits in a long time."


"Please" Alfred continued, speaking each word slowly and deliberately, "I don't need your help. If you really want my support, talk to my government. Over the past years, has the United Kingdom ever captured anything of value for me? No. When you come and when my government then refuses to let you talk to me, why would I let you come speak to me? You won't let me go, will you? My government, they wish to form a plan that will enable me to help the planet and launch a technologically advanced super nuclear power plant. We will war against many problems existing against the environment. You think Europe is so environmentally friendly, and that even China and Asia are cutting back more? Soon, we, Americans, my people and myself, will strike and conquer this problem. With technology as advanced as ours, not much effort and hardly any land will be needed. Since, as helping you is not possible, I would like if you were to go and have fundraisers and if you got enough technology for you to really help me, please get a plant yourself. America, me, would like to help out with such a project so that, together and combined, we will be able to stop these problems. However, you, them, everyone has only been bugs to America. You will, under out orders, serve as ears to this nation", Alfred broke off and looked away, "I think I would like to go rabbit-hunting soon…"

Arthur said nothing, his face pale with shock, "Fine" he finally responded, nodding curtly to Alfred and squashing to growing urge to reach out and comfort the nation. "I will go inform the other countries of your situation and your government's motives…"

Alfred's eyes snapped back to Arthur, and for the first time since he had entered the room, Arthur felt some peace. There, in the back of Alfred's eyes was that spark of life, that indication of vitality that Arthur had come to treasure so dearly. There was hope. Tiny, fragile, almost nonexistent, but still there. Arthur leaned forward, almost touching Alfred, but not quite, "Remember Al…" he said, his voice barely audible, "If you are going through hell…keep going. You'll make it out eventually."

Alfred looked at Arthur, and finally, the tiniest of smiles pulled at his lips. Though it greatly encouraged Arthur, to see that ridiculous grin reduced to this…He gave the younger country one last sad smile and quickly turned and marched out of the oval office.

Outside, the traitor was waiting for him. "Here" he all but snarled, shoving some papers into Arthur's hands, "Your transcript."

Arthur took the recorded conversation he had just had with Alfred, looked one last time at the doors which the young country stood behind, and turned to leave the building.

Once he was sure he was out of sight of the White House, and that nobody had been sent to follow him, Arthur reached behind his ears. Sure enough, as he felt around, he found two tiny, almost invisible capsules, one behind each ear. He crushed them, taking some short sadistic pleasure in foiling the plans of the man who had planted them there. He recognized them, of course, and examined their smashed remnants with some interest. They were cameras, bugs that were intended to spy on him. The "President" had planted them, sometimes during his visit to the White House, probably when he was being searched. "Thanks for the warning, Al…" he said, throwing the remains onto the snow-covered ground before hailing a taxi that would take him back to the airport, and then, to a very important meeting.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Before I get a bunch of comments on how strange Alfred's little speech is, or how rambly it is, or why the hell does he go off on a tangent about the environment when Arthur's trying to figure out what's wrong with him, or what the hell is up with the bunny hunting, THERE IS A LEGIT REASON FOR THAT WHOLE PART. I know the wording is very very strange, and I know Alfred's completely rambling, and makes no sense. THERE IS A REASON!!! (hint for the reason: 5)

Oh, and in each chapter I'm going to have a famous quote from some famous figurehead. X3 See if you can find the quote! (there's only one in this chapter)

Thanks and Review!