The Tragic Tale of A Certain 'Hero' Type

Chapter Fourteen: A Successful Attempt (Part 2)

'How could Arthur and Francis say all these things daily to a child they had raised and had promised to never abandon?!' Matthew wanted to scream but knew it wouldn't solve anything. He scowled at the texts. Germany, Russia, China, most of the former and current commonwealth, and even the nations that dared to call him friends were bombarding him with the same things said at meetings. Some were even worse than he had heard yet. He couldn't allow that. He needed to get a new phone for Alfred and a new number while blocking all the numbers of all of the nations. Parental locks also. He needed to get it before Alfred woke up. Matthew slipped off of the bed, confident that Alfred would sleep for a few hours with the sedative in Alfred's portion. He would ask for forgiveness for that in the morning but he couldn't risk Alfred attempting suicide if he was left alone or running off if they were in public. He was determined to make sure his little brother was going to stay alive. He kissed his brother's head again.
"I'll be back soon. Sleep well." Matthew whispered before leaving the house. Kumajiro had promised he would be making sure no one else would enter the house. Matthew had security cameras all over his home and would be checking them every few minutes.
Alfred woke up twelve minutes after Matthew had left. He could hear Kumajiro watching a fishing show. Now was the only opportunity he would have for quite awhile. He didn't realize that the small nap was due to a sedative. He gathered all the pill bottles into a cloth grocery bag, along with his gun and the one-of-a-kind bullet and walked to the basement, managing to sneak past Kumajiro. He knew Matthew would check the cameras so he quickly started swallowing handfuls of pills while chugging the bleach. There was a meeting on Monday, four days away. He couldn't go back to another meeting. He couldn't even stand up for himself. Sure, Matthew had defended him last time. No one would care though.
He noticed the light on the camera turn on. Matthew had just realized he wasn't asleep upstairs. It had been almost an hour. Matthew wasn't close, Alfred realized as the camara was frantically moving around. The camara stilled as Matthew finally spotted him. America simply smiled as he finished the bottle of bleach and the twelfth bottle of pills. He simply said his last words:
"I'm never going to be good enough. I know I'm unwanted and unlovable. This is the only way! I refuse to do all this anymore. 'M sorry, Mattie. I'm so sorry. Go... AH! FUCK! HNNNH! Goodbye." It didn't hurt yet. That was a lie. He was in so much pain. He knew it was going to hurt but not this bad. Everything felt as if he was burning alive, the abdominal pain was almost enough to knock him out. His vision was white from the pain. He spaced out for quite a few minutes, hearing a car screech into the driveway. He lifted the gun to his head and managed to pull the trigger right as Matthew jumped over the railing of the basement stairs. Alfred had smiled at Matthew as the trigger was pulled. It was not a good smile. Alfred was bleeding heavily from the wound. His baby brother had partially succeeded. Matthew performed first aide before scooping his brother into his arms, gently placing him on the backseat. He had to grab a few documents before heading to the hospital. He quickly threw together a bag for himself and Alfred before running back to the car.
Matthew rushed Alfred to the hospital. He was still alive when they arrived. Matthew ordered the staff to pump the stomach of his brother and to perform the surgery on his brain as the bullet was still in there.
The doctors were hesitant to obey until another doctor walked in and said he would do it as he knew of Matthew and other personifications. Matthew stayed by his brother's side through the entire process before making sure that Alfred had a very nice, private hospital room. He called his boss and Alfred's boss, informed them about what had happened, the situation with the meetings, and asked that the paperwork be delivered via email. Both agreed, the American government even insured that even if the nations snooped, they wouldn't ever be able to find America.
Matthew collapsed into the chair, still worried sick. Alfred was in a coma, medically induced for the next four weeks.
He was reworking his schedule for the next three weeks when a group of Canadian and American military personnel showed up and started guarding the room. It would allow him a few minutes to grab what he needed but he wouldn't leave. He refused to leave for even a shower during the first week. It was his fault Alfred was in this state.
He sent texts to the maids of his other homes to bring things to the hospital and back. He wondered how long it would take before the other caring personifications to realize something happened. His phone rang at that exact moment.
"Hello, Matthew Williams speaking." Matthew answered.
"Hello, Matthew. This is Tino (Finland). How are you and how is America? I along with Susan (Berwald, Sweden), Matthias (Denmark), Logan (Norway), and Emil are all very concerned for him." Tino's voice was gentle, a touch of parental worry present in his voice. Matthew found himself telling the Finnish man all about what had happened and that America might be completely different afterwards.
"Oh, Matthew. It's not your fault that this has happened. It also isn't Alfred's fault. Both of you are so young. If you need us, we will be staying in Montreal for the next month." Tino was definitely a trustworthy person and his family was the same.
He wished so badly that they had found them first, instead of England and France. Alfred could've been so much happier with someone who'd have loved him unconditionally. He, as the older brother, should have been there for every moment of Alfred's life. Matthew should have showed he cared and stood up for him. He wouldn't fail this time. Matthew would destroy the world if it meant Alfred would be safe and happy.