Sleepless Nights

It wasn't often Alfred had sleepless nights.

His tongue would stick from his mouth, like an excited dog, as he flipped through pages and pages of files. Recent events, to ancient ones. Anyone that knew anything about the blonde would know he hated paperwork, not to mention research. That is, if it was business research. He put it off in his mind as business, but he knew. He knew the real reason why he was doing this.

Why he was digging into her history.

Sapphire eyes narrowed at a particular document, teeth grinding against the pencil in his mouth. He hated reading reports about the genocide, all those things Turkey had done.

A haunting memory came back to him. He'd walked in on her once, pure innocent accident, of course. With her back stripped and bare for the shower, he'd had the World's most perfect view. Of the worst scars he'd ever seen in his life. Her blushed squawks of protest hadn't phased him, not as he stared with wide eyes at the horrid jagged marks, all a portrayal of horrific wounds. Only when she'd managed to slam the door shut did he snap back to reality.

Ever since that day he'd been headfirst in Armenian history, this usually-lazy man determined to learn why she had all those scars. And who'd inflicted them. Turkey was already a major suspect, but with how many there were....he knew that wasn't the whole story. She was one of the Earth's oldest nations, wasn't she? That genocide happened back in 1915.....Alfred rubbed his temples at the thought. How many more horrific things had she seen? That was only a century ago, she'd seen thousands of years......

The woman was soft, gentle, but he could see something in those eyes. The American was as dull as everyone so believed, he was observant. Keen. He knew buried pain and loneliness when he saw it. She could scarcely leave her country without those who hated her most attacking her. It was vicious, ridiculous. She barely even got to see her own brother.

So Alfred had taken it upon himself to visit her.

At first, he blamed it on business. "My boss just wants to know a couple things!" He'd said, acting his normal dorky self. He visited her a second time, then a third. And he didn't stop. He couldn't. A worry was always aching in the back of his mind, clawing at his skull. She'd barely mentioned the abuse inflicted on her by the nations surrounding her, but Alfred knew better. She just didn't want him to worry. She seemed happier each time he visited, a happy gleam in her eye. They'd laugh,eat, talk about silly things, and he could tell she was a little less lonely. She had a lively spring in her step, hummed to herself when she baked. He loved it. Loved how alive she was since he'd become a regular visitor. A friend.

The one time he'd missed a day, she'd come to the next meeting bruised.

His anger was well hidden inside of him, as were most of his true emotions. But he couldn't help the clenching of his fists, the dark deadly glare that would have sliced the Turk's head off if possible. Alfred knew what had happened, and they'd waiting until his visits slipped to do it.

He'd never wanted to tear a man's head off more in his life.

He vowed never to miss a visit again, though with each day that became harder and harder. His boss conveniently piled more and more work on him, enough to make his eyelids sag. Still, he tried his hardest, always showing up at her doorstep with a bone-crushing hug and an annoying laugh. His laugh always made her laugh though, resulting against playful beatings on his chest. That was the Alisia he loved to see, with a bright, beaming smile. She was such an ancient beauty really. She had an air of wisdom and caring about her, yet hid so much deep inside. It made him want to treat her like glass,fragile and beautiful.

After his countless sleepless nights, she was safe again. No-one would hurt her if he was there. No-one could touch her.

Until he slipped up again.

~*~

Alfred F. Jones, slumped against his desk, face in a lazy smile as he drooled onto his papers. Asleep like a baby. He never even heard the heavy, angry swing of his front door, his dreams consisting of the most beautiful things. Hamburgers, melted cheese everywhere, freshly baked donuts and rivers of soda. Even Alisia was in there somewhere. Alfred's face pulled into a lecherous grin. Naked, slathered in ketchup......yeah......

"Will you WAKE UP!"

A sharp smack to the back of his head jolted him awake. "WH-WH- IS IT THE NAZIS?!" He leapt from his chair, hands groping for a gun that wasn't there. The shorter blonde rolled his eyes. "No you git. You've been asleep the whole day! You didn't even come to the bloody meeting!" A heavy folder of papers was slapped against the American's desk, making him wince. "Gee.....those aren't....mine are the-" "You're damned-right they're yours." A haughty snort came from the Brit. "I worked my arse off to cover for you, git. You better be bloody grateful."

Alfred was barely listening though, tuning out Arthur was a well-used skill he'd adapted. His eyes were spaced, and widening slightly. "Wait....the whole day?" England placed a hand on his hip. "Yes the whole bloody day! Why do you think I-" The Brit was silenced by a desperate grab to his shoulders, blue eyes laced with panic. "Arthur.....what time is it?" Bushy brows raised in question. "....Nearly 6:30...like I said, you've been-" "HAHA I JUST REMEMBERED I'm gonna miss that movie I bought tickets for! Y'know, Frankenstein VS the Pterydactal Part Two?" Alfred leapt for his coat-rack, pulling on his bomber jacket in a flash. "I am NOT missin' that sexy gore this time! Aha!" And just like that, he was out the door, leaving the Brit to mumble "Useless git" under his breath.

Though, a movie was the last thing on Alfred's mind.


~*~


His car pulled into her driveway with a screech of tires, and he flung himself from the convertible, keys still in the ignition. To hell with the car! With all his borrowed money, he could just damn-well buy a new one if it was stolen. His fist pounded against her door, panic rushing through his beating heart. "ALISIA!" When no answer came, his worry shot through the roof. "Fuck it....I'M COMIN' IN!"

His foot smashed through her door with ease, and he tore himself through the hole he'd made. The first clue that something was wrong was that it was dark. Alisia NEVER kept the lights off, even when she slept. His own fear of the dark eluded him as he raced through the house, ripping everything apart in search for the small Armenian. "ALISIA!" Eerie whispers caressed his ear. You're too late. You're too late. "Shut UP!" Hands clasped over his ears, and he overturned every table in the kitchen with a loud BANG. He was yelling for her, again and again, but the voices drowned him out. His vision was spiraling black, and he fell to his knees.

And screamed.

A sharp hiss met his ears, and when he opened his eyes, he was standing. In front of the bathroom door, the only place he hadn't searched yet. A trembling, gloved hand touched the knob, and before he could think twice, he threw it open.

"ALISI-" He words caught dead, a lump in his throat. Her once-white bathroom was painted red. Completely. Red. With blood. Bloody hand prints were all ove the walls, on the mirror, and a huge puddle dragged. To the closed shower curtain.

He was afraid, trembling, just a boy again. The curtain pulled itself back.

There in the tub, she lay. Naked, mouth agape, hair covering her eyes. She was motionless, covered in cuts and gashes. Drenched in blood. He knelt next to her, eyes wide. His trembling hand touched her cheek.

Cold. Dead.

"N-...no..." He took her shoulder in his hand, bringing her body close. He was shaking his head, glasses sliding down his nose, tears pattering onto them. He leaned his forehead against hers, not stopping the sob that wracked his body.

Her eyes flew open; gouged, bloody pits of black.

"Why didn't you save me?"


~*~


"Alfred....Alfred!"

A shaking stirred the blonde, sapphire eyes revealing themselves. Meeting with chocolate brown. There she was, looking down at him, worry in her eyes.

She was here.

"Al-OOF!" She was yanked into a bone-crushing hug, and even as the air stilled around them, he didn't release her. She was warm. Breathing. Alive.

"Come on now, what's wrong?" Her voice was soft and gentle, but still he didn't let go. She sighed, patting his back gently. "I told you not to drink soda before you sleep....You had a nightmare."

A nightmare. That's all it was. A nightmare. He'd been spending time with her and had fallen asleep at her place. He remembered now.

Slowly, he unwound himself, giving her his trademark big smile. "Heh. My bad!" She grinned playfully, pulling a DVD from behind her, making his eyes pop wide.

"Frankenstein VS the Pterydactal Two." She tapped his forehead with it. "The one you were begging me for, remember?" A somber smile stretched on his lips. He could push the haunting memory of the dream away with her, right there with him. "Fan-freakin' tastic!" He jumped from the couch, darting for the kitchen. "I'LL GET THE POPCORN!"

He made a vow to himself, right there and then. No matter what, he wouldn't let her out of his sight. He was a hero after-all, and she needed that hero more than anyone else.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they sat, treating it as comfort for the horror movie. Really, he just wanted to be close. But he was good at covering that up with an innocent smile. Unlike usual routine, it was her who fell asleep against him this time, her cheek pressed against his warm chest, breathing calm and soft. He stroked her brown hair, smiling softly.

It was safe to say he wasn't watching the movie anymore.