We're Enemies

Chapter 12

England PoV:

The War's almost at it's end. Paris liberated. Germany has finally accepted his defeat and is awaiting trial. His breaking of the first Treaty will not be treated kindly... But that's not what concerns me.

I run through prison after prison with Alfred and Matthew at my side until I find you...
...But I'm too scared to approach the lifeless form on the cell floor. I'm not sure if you're alive...

The boys approach you first. They manage to wake you up. But there is no celebration to it...

You sit up with a jolt and your eyes bore directly into mine. There is a wildness in them.

Like a tortured animal.

My breath catches in my throat as you let out an animalistic shriek and pounce on America.

"Take off your helmets! He's mistaken you for German soldiers!"
Both of them quickly oblige and my voice distracts you from them.

"ARTHUR!" You howl and lunge at me.

I crash into the wall on impact. Your hold on me makes it hard to breathe... but now is not the time to show weakness.

"Canada. Take your brother out with you. Liberate the other prisoners." I command them.

"But..." the older begins

"Just go! Leave him to me! Go!"

The boys reluctantly leave.
Almost instantly, your hands wrap around my neck, but you're too weak to cause any hurt.

I wrap my arms around you and pull you close, settling both of us on the floor, with you secured in my lap.

"Shhh. It's okay. We've won. You're free now. It's over. It's over..."

Your grip loosens and your hands rest idly on my chest as you begin to sob.

"This isn't a trick now, is it? You're real, right? You're my Arthur, right?" you ask in between sobs.

Your Arthur?...

"Yes, yes it's me. And this is real. I'm here now. You're free now"

You look up at me. Your eyes clouded. I notice all the bruises, cuts and scars all over your face and neck.

Your hands reach out and cup my face. They too are littered with scars, I can see the skin torn off by chains, the bruises in the shape of fingerprints ... the sight of you like this makes my insides burn with rage.

I want the blood of all the people the did this to you on my hands.

"Why are you so late?! I thought you had abandoned me!" you say landing a slap across my cheek.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I came as fast as I could. The war was raging on all fronts, and Paris is the most guarded. We managed to reclaim Paris after multiple failed attempts. But it's over now. You'll be okay now. I promise." I press my face into your shoulder and let my tears do the talking.

I don't have the strength to face you...

I feel your fists repeatedly hitting my back as you continue to vent your bottled up emotions; the rage; the despair; the helplessness; all of it...

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! You left me in the hands of that monster! I was waiting for you, I kept waiting for you... You didn't come! It was so hard, so hard to keep believing... keep believing you'd come. You don't know how horrible Germans can be! Do you see me now? Can you see what they've done to me! Can you see all my scars? I can't tell what's real and what's not. I can't understand anything. I thought it'll never stop... Arthur is this really you? Please help me. Please, Arthur! I know you hate me, but please help me. I don't want to be here... I- I want to see the sun again Arthur. Arthur please don't let them get me. I don't want to be-"

"Shhh, shhh, Francis" I cut you off. I can't bear to hear this anymore.

"It really is me. I am real. I'm here to save you. I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Have we really won?"

"Yes. We have. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"B-but, we won last time too, that didn't stop him from... fr-from-" you stop mid-sentence and you head lands on my shoulder with a soft thud.

"Francis NO!!" I scream almost instinctively.

I press and hand to your chest, and let out the breath I did not realise I had been holding.

Just unconscious. Still alive. Alive.

I promise I will break Germany into bits. I will make his existence so wretched that he'll wish he never laid a finger on you as he prays for his own death. Just wait and watch...

Your lips quiver, trying to say something. I press my ears close to your mouth and listen. I can only make out a few words, "Enemy... England... Once... Help...Please... Hate... Help... Engla..."

I can't help but laugh as I wrap your limp form in my coat and carry you back to the military hospital. I wonder how you'll react when you remember all that you said to me in the heat of the moment; after we go back to the usual when you recover.

Our usual.

For Centuries.

We're enemies.

Notes:

Well, if you're wondering why I jumped to WW2 from the Entente Cordiale, and skipped WW1...

Here's your answer:
BECAUSE I MAKE THE RULES IN MY STORY!!!
MUAHAHAHAHAHA!!!