Prince of Pride (Hetalia USUK)

Chapter Eight - Agonized British Screaming

Arthur blinked open his eyes and was nearly blinded by the bright light. Alfred was squatting beside the bed Arthur was laying on.
"Hey, you're awake! Thank god." Alfred muttered. "I thought you'd died."

A woman in white was tending to Arthur's leg wound, while a man in white could be seen in the background, although Arthur wasn't sure what he was doing.

Arthur's head pounded, his heart hurt, and he couldn't feel his left leg. He lay back as he felt Alfred grab his hand. Arthur looked over into Alfred's blue eyes as he tried to recall what had happened. A train, he would have died if it wasn't for Alfred.
Did Alfred run out in front of a fucking train just to save my life?

The woman in white stood up, and looked at Arthur. "We've cleaned up your wounds and bandaged you up. You're lucky the Prince can run as fast as he can, you would have bled out in no time."
"Don't scare him, Emma." The man said.
After the two doctors had left the room, Arthur looked to Alfred.

"What the hell happened?"
"The train was coming, you were stuck, I helped you out, and then you passed out and I carried you back to the palace."
"That's not how the nurse described it! She said you were full on sprinting, and did you jump out in front of a fucking train to help me?"
"Maybe. But you would have died!"
"Alfred. You don't just jump out in front of a train for no good reason. You don't just sacrifice your life like that for someone unless you really love them. Don't you realize how easy it would have been for you to let me die? You could have pretended to mourn for a while, your parents wouldn't dare try to find a suitor in that time, and you could find someone to actually date instead of this facade. It would have been simple!"
"But you'd be dead. I couldn't live like that."
Alfred's lips gently touched Arthur's, embracing him in a gentle yet passionate kiss.
"You're not just a servant to me, Arthur. You never were." Alfred whispered.
"Please." Arthur said. "Call me Artie."

~~~~~Timeskip~~~~~

Arthur's leg took an excruciatingly long time to heal, by that time, Alfred's parents had returned home and Alfred had to explain why his boyfriend was in a hospital bed, leaving out the minor details like the fact that both of them were nearly killed by a train.

Alfred was good company. He brought things like food and books for Arthur, and he wasn't bad companionship.
Not bad at all.

"It turns out, I'm a lot gayer than I originally planned." Arthur said.
"Really? I couldn't tell." Alfred laughed.
"Oh, shut up."

Arthur noticed that he smiled a lot more when Alfred was around. There was something tugging in the back of his mind, something that told him to ask about the scars on Alfred's wrists, but he didn't want to, all at the same time. The young prince had obviously been through a lot more than he let on, and that concerned Arthur a little.

"Hey, Al?"
"Yeah?"
"They always say the happiest people are the most hurt."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You have scars on your wrists, Alfred. Where did they come from?"
Alfred hesitated. "I don't want to tell you."
"Please tell me, Alfred. I don't want you to keep hiding this."

"I wasn't happy being a prince. There was a lot of shit going on in my life. Too much for a fifteen year old to take. My bisexuality was one of the main reasons I thought there was something wrong with me. Everyone else seemed so at ease with everything, the wars, the poverty... I just wanted out."
Alfred dipped his head. His voice cracked.
"It was about four months before you started working for me. I went out near the tracks and cut myself. I was positive nobody would find me as I died. Somebody did, an woman who patched me up and helped me out. She didn't know who I was. She didn't know what I'd been through. I stayed at her place for nearly a month before my scars healed and I was brave enough to return home. I told my family I'd been in town and had gotten attacked, somebody found me and healed me. They still don't know that I was the one who attacked myself. I hope they never find out."
Alfred broke off. His blue eyes brimmed with tears. This was a boy who Arthur had always considered the happiest. The most cheerful. Always happy-go-lucky, like nothing could go wrong. He was so broken.

Arthur stroked Alfred's hair gently. He looked into his blue eyes and kissed him softly.
"It's okay, Alfred. I'm glad you told me."
"I'm glad too. Somebody needed to know. I feel like I would have exploded."
"I could tell. You're okay now. You're fine. Everything's fine. I'm here."
"Thank you, Artie."