The world was black. Delicately pale fingers only barely touched soft sheets. There was beeping going on in the back ground. It went at a steady rhythm, almost like a heartbeat.


It was so calming, it would almost lull a person to sleep. Wait a second…A heart monitor, Arthur knew what that meant. He opened his eyes quickly, sitting up, but feeling a sharp pain in his stomach and shoulder.

There was a man who seemed that like he was just previously sleeping at the foot of his bed that rushed to his side. With a comforting touch, he pushed Arthur back to a lying position on the bed. The man was slightly attractive, sandy blonde hair with only a small part of it going straight up. His eyes were a beautiful blue, and he had glasses, perched just at his nose.

"Easy, Arthur," the man spoke. His voice was sharp and annoying. Yet there was something about it that calmed Arthur down. That name, it sounded so familiar. Arthur had to think…that was his name, right? "The doc said you need to relax."

Doc…That meant doctor, right? Why the hell did he need a doctor? Arthur looked down at himself. When he sat up, the sheets had fallen off of his torso. When he looked down at it, he was shirtless, but he had bandages all over him, going across his chest and his stomach. And one going over his shoulder. It didn't hit him until then, but he was in a massive amount of pain.

"With your injuries," the man rubbed the back of his head, "a normal person would have been dead. And the doctor acknowledged that. So…I…kinda had to tell him the truth. Please don't be mad at me!" The man cringed, like Arthur would hit him or something. It made no sense. This man looked far stronger than Arthur looked.

What did he mean dead? What truth?

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Arthur's voice came out strangled and raspy, like he hadn't talked in days. With the looks of him, he might not have.

"Come on, Artie, don't play dumb!" this man talked with Arthur so casually, like he knew him closely or something.

"I-I don't understand. Who are you?" Arthur used his hand that wasn't attached to the heart monitor to hold his head. It was really starting to hurt. He could feel bandages on that, too as he touched it.

"A-Alfred…" the annoying voice of the man died down. Like what he had just said hurt his feelings. "I'm Alfred. C-can't you remember that? You named me that, after all," Alfred tried to make it into a joke by laughing. But Arthur wasn't getting it.

"I'm sorry, I don't know you," Arthur stared at Alfred. This man seemed completely devastated at the fact Arthur couldn't remember him.

"Wait, do you remember Francis?" Arthur shook his head. Francis? "Mathew? Ludwig? Antonio?" Alfred became frantic with the names as Arthur kept on shaking his head with each name. What were these names? Were these people he knew? Such a large variety of ethnicities. What kind of person was he?

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Arthur shook his head. Come to think of it…what did he remember about his life? He knew his name…Arthur. What was his last name? What else did he know? He spoke in a British accent, probably from instinct from talking with it his whole life. How old was he? Alfred was obviously American. What was going on?

"Shit…" Alfred started pacing in the small hospital room. His voice started to waver as he talked. "The-the doc said that-that the impact…Shit…You really can't remember anything?"

"I-I'm sorry, no," Arthur was scared of the American. What was going on?

"You…you can't remember me? Anything we did together?"

"I'm sorry, we did something together?" Arthur questioned as a man in a lab coat walked into the room. He was guessing that was the doctor.

"Good morning, Mister Kirkland, glad to see you're awake," he was British, too. The doctor helped Arthur sit up and lean against the headboard of the bed. He pulled out a stethoscope and plugged the ear buds into his ears and started listening to Arthur's heart. "How long have you been awake?"

"Um, not very long," Kirkland, was that his last name?

"Your friend told me about your…special situation," the doctor smiled, pulling down the ear buds and wearing the stethoscope like a necklace. "At first, I didn't believe him. It sounded so…preposterous!"

"Doc…" Alfred shook his head. "He, uh, he can't remember anything."

"Really?" the doctor sighed happily. "It's a lovely story, I'll tell you. It was a slow day here for me. I had gotten no patients all night. And, from out of nowhere, this young lad comes running in, holding you, unconscious in his arms. You were both covered in lacerations and bruises," the doctor turned to mess with something at a table that Arthur couldn't see. "You were suffering the most, though. You had a major cut a little higher than your forehead, glass shards all over your chest and arm. You're right shoulder was dislocated and you were bleeding severely from your stomach. He, on the other hand," the doctor turned back to the two, he had a flashlight in his hand and he proceeded to check Arthur's pupils. "He was bleeding everywhere, with bruises up and down his body. But he insisted that you were taken care of before anyone so much as looked at him."

"Wh-what happened?" Arthur questioned.

"Car crash," Alfred answered too quickly, almost angrily. Arthur could tell it was a lie. But why lie to a doctor? He already knew their "secret," apparently.

"So, your memory's gone?" the doctor continued as if the two hadn't spoken. "It doesn't seem like you have a concussion. Must have been some sort of trauma that caused you to loose your memory. Mister Jones," the doctor turned towards Alfred, walking over to where he stood on the other side of Arthur's bed. "you seem to have retained all of your memories. Care to tell me the details of this car crash?"

"Um…well…you see…" Alfred struggled to think of something to say. "I need to call some people," he pulled out his cell phone and started walking out of the room. "Tell them Artie's awake." His voice seemed depressed almost. As if thinking about Arthur forgetting about him was the worst thing that could ever happen to him.

"I've been trying to get the details out of him ever since you got here," the doctor sighed, turning towards Arthur again. "All I ever get is 'car crash.' And he's been on the phone with a lot of people for the past couple days as well. It seems a lot of people care about you."

"Really?" Arthur couldn't help but be surprised by that statement. He felt like no one would have really cared about him.

"Oi! Let me in that room right now!" Arthur heard a Scottish accent from beyond the voice.

"H-hold on!" Alfred's voice sounded from the hallway. "You…you don't know what Arthur's been through! Please just hold on before you go in there!"

"Shut it!" the Scottish accent sounded harsh, almost terrifying. "He's my brother! I need to see what your idiocy brought him!"

A man rushed into the room, this one with bright red hair and green eyes. He looked rather tall in stature, and his face was cold. The minute he saw Arthur, his eyes grew wide. Did he really look that bad?

"Holy shit, Arthur!" the man rushed to Arthur's side, staring at him in wonder. "What the hell did you get yourself into this time, you idiot?"

"I-I'm sorry," Arthur muttered. "I…I don't know who you are."

"What the hell?" the man demanded.

"Excuse me, sir," the doctor rushed over to the man. "Please don't be so loud. You are in a hospital."

"I can yell however the hell I want to yell!" the man snapped at the doctor. "Now tell me what the fuck happened to my little brother!"

"I will not be talked to in that manner, sir," the doctor tried to assert a dominance he obviously didn't have over the man.

"Scotland!" Alfred snapped at the man. At first, Arthur didn't understand. That must have been some nickname for him. The man looked like he could have been a Scott… "Get over here!"

The two men disappeared into the hallway, but their conversation didn't.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO HIM?" the Scottish man exploded.

"I-I didn't do anything!" Alfred's voice argued back. "We were just trying to go somewhere…"

"You were trying to get fucking laid, weren't you?" the Scottish voice barked at Alfred.

"No! I wasn't!" Alfred argued. "We were trying… Shit, we can't talk here! Come on!" There were loud footsteps as the two walked away.

"Sure seems like you have a nice family," the doctor muttered sarcastically.

"Apparently," Arthur sighed. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He felt so bad. These people came into this room, caring about him. And he didn't know who they were. He couldn't even recognize his own brother.

Who was going to be next? What random character was going to come into the room that cares about him that he had to turn down because he couldn't remember them?

But there was one thing that concerned Arthur the most out of everything else. Alfred was hiding something. What was that "secret" that he told the doctor? And what happened during the "car crash?"

***Page Break***

After a while of fighting, Alfred came back into the room, the Scottish man didn't. America had turned on the TV after asking Arthur if it was okay. And Arthur wound up falling asleep to Transformers or some American movie like that.

In his sleep, he heard voices. All of them sounded worried, but all of them sounded different. All with different accents. They didn't stay in Arthur's dreams for long, not anywhere near long enough to know what accent they were.

He also heard voices he recognized, saying things he couldn't understand. Voices yelling at him, telling him to go somewhere. Run. Fast! Don't let him get to you!

"Arthur," Alfred's voice calmly slipped into Arthur's dream. "Arthur, you need to get up now."

Arthur groaned, like a little child not wanting to go to school. His dream was nice, it seemed so pretty when he thought about it. He almost forgot where he was. The Beep…Beep…Beep…sounded into his dream. His eyelids floated up, to find Alfred's eyes looking straight into his.

"Yeah…?" Arthur groaned, he really didn't want to wake up.

"Doc says we need to switch your bandages," Alfred smiled slightly, as if hoping Arthur could remember him. No such luck.

"And it couldn't wait until I woke up?" Arthur lifted up one eyebrow.

"Um…" Alfred shifted uncomfortably. "We need to check and make sure of something."

"What is that?" Arthur groaned. He was tired. Why couldn't he sleep?

"Just…please trust me, okay?"

"Trust you? I don't know you," Arthur rolled over to the other side. He closed his eyes to fall back asleep."Aaarthuuur…" Alfred let out a whine. "Please?"

"Shut up…" Arthur sighed before he sat up in his bed. He hadn't noticed that the doctor was in the room with them until he finished sitting up.

"If you two are finished," the doctor sighed before stepping towards Arthur. "Does your shoulder or stomach hurt at all?"

"No, not that I can tell," Arthur sat uncomfortably.

"What about your head? That hurt any?"

"A little before I fell asleep, but not anymore," Arthur didn't know how long he had slept. His room didn't have any windows, so he couldn't tell the time of day through that.

The doctor hummed slightly. "Okay, I'm going to take off the bandages really quick, see how the wounds are healing, and then decide from there if we need to put new ones on. Alright?"

Arthur nodded and he lifted up his arm to help the doctor start to unwrap the bandages around his waist. He couldn't help but blush slightly once he noticed Alfred was still in the same room as him while his chest was getting exposed. He looked all pale and pasty, and thin and lanky. He didn't know why he was embarrassed with him seeing him. He couldn't have a crush on a boy, that was disgusting. That wasn't right.

As the bandages were being unwrapped, he noticed that there was nothing there. Not even scars. How long ago was this crash? Was this a prank? Why weren't there any scars?

"What?" Arthur was the only one surprised to see him healed so fast. "How did-"

"Looks like you won't be needing any more bandaging," the doctor smiled as he went to throw away the old bandages. "Let's check your head really quick," the doctor unwound the bandages over Arthur's head and threw those away, too. "Looks like you'll be ready to go in no time," the doctor smiled again.

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on," Arthur still couldn't get a hold on how he healed so fast. "You said I was a mess just a couple days ago. I had a dislocated shoulder and gashes everywhere. How could I be back to normal this fast?"

"You still haven't told him?" the doctor looked like he completely ignored what Arthur had just said and looked over at Alfred.

"I don't know what to say," Alfred shrugged. "I was hoping one of the others could help me. But he was asleep when they came to visit," he kicked at something in the air.

"I have a feeling you need to do this yourself," the doctor sighed and then turned his attention back to Arthur. "If you feel uncomfortable shirtless, would you like me to bring you a shirt?"

"I would prefer to know what the hell is going on, thank you," Arthur snapped. He was irritated at the fact that people kept ignoring him.

"I'm going to go get you a shirt," the doctor chuckled and quickly stepped out of the room.

Arthur groaned. "Alfred, or whatever the hell your name is, tell me what is going on."

"It's kind of a long story," Alfred sighed as he pulled a chair up close to the bed. He took in a deep breath, as if he was about to say something important.

"You are the physical representation of the country of England."

This story was just a random inspiration that popped up out of nowhere. I hope people like it!

I don't own anything, like Hetalia, or a hospital, or my computer...

Please review so I can write more and feel good about myself!