The England Experiment

Rinse and repeat

Again and again and again. The torture happened over and over. Each person was different, the nations that came to kick and ridicule him were never the same. So many of them. Each evening Arthur woke up panting and with tears running down his pale face; only to have one of the caring nations comfort him. He couldn't shake their expressions from his mind, Kiku's worried face as Arthur scrambled back from the Japanese man who had just forced the air from his lungs. Elizabeta's solemn eyes as she supported him walking, the Hungarian woman puzzled over the phantom broken ribs that Arthur winced from.

And lately it seemed that Oliver was taking a different approach, because the figures coming to torment him became people from memories. Please let it be over soon, he thought as Queen Elizabeth stood in his fading vision.

Arthur's vision began to regain again from the blackness that clouded it, and his hearing returned. He heard soft footsteps clack, the sounds of boots, and then stop maybe a meter and a half in front of where he was chained. Arthur waited, his head down, for his new torturer to become apparent to him.

Kick. Yell. Do anything, and then it can be over.

But the person said nothing. They stood there for what felt like a millenia. Then the figure sighed, and spoke very softly.

"Oh, little Arthur."

Arthur's blood chilled and his mind spun at the sound of the soft voice. His dragging breaths quickened, and although before he was trying to clear his vision, he didnt want to see who was in front of him anymore. Because he recognised that voice like he recognised his own. And it belonged to someone he hadn't seen for eons.

It begloned to somone he was afraid to see again. For fear that his heart would break in two.

"Look up at me."

Arthur's voice cracked as he raised his head, and tears rolled from his eyes as his vision cleared and the now crouching woman in front of him came into focus.

"Bri- Brittania?"

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The woman smiled softly and cupped his head in her hands, her callused thumb brushing the tear tracks off of his cheekbones.

"Too old to call me mother, my little Albion?"

It was then that sobs racked through Arthur's body, and he broke down and cried in his mother's arms. Brittania held him close and stroked his dirty blonde hair, letting her own fall over her shoulder, their hair the same colour. She whispered calming words until her youngest son's sobs were only tear streaks down his cheeks.

She then lifted his face up, and looked down at the chains that still bound his wrists to the wall behind him. His green eyes stared into hers, both forlorn and wet from crying.

"What happened to you Albion? What has become of you that has left you to this torture?"

Arthur's eyes fell to the ground.

"I'm protecting them. All the nations that need me."

"Do they need you? Or are you going through this just for nothing?" Arthur looked up again to see his mother's eyes cold and condescending. But he shook his head.

"T-they do need me. They couldn't have handled Oliver, or Luciano, or even Allen on their own. they had no information, at a disadvantage. They knew nothing, but the 2ps did."

"And who's fault is that?"

Arthur's words caught in his throat. He had known the answer all this time, but was afraid of it.