USUK ONESHOTS!

Blame - 9/11

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...

Arthur pursed his lips, listening to the monitor beeping, both his hands gently wrapped around one of Alfred's normally warm hand. The Brit bit back tears as his eyes stayed glued to the young man's slightly pale face.

Arthur hesitantly reached forward, keeping one hand in Alfred's, then gently brushed stray strands of sandy blonde hair out of his face. "Alfred," the older man murmured, voice cracking slightly as his breath hitched in his throat. "Alfred, please wake up... I swear to you, I'll never say anything cruel to you ever again if only you'd wake."

No reaction.

The Englishman hoped this was a prank. He prayed and begged for it to be a joke from the moment everything had started the day previous. The smoke, the crashes, the screams and cries, the flames... Everything.

Alfred- having been the good personification he was- was visiting his World Trade Center, Or, 'The Twin Towers'- a.k.a, 'the Twins- as Alfred so fondly called the towers. He reviewed his economy, and his people. He loved it there. He'd visit every chance he got because he loved those buildings.

However, Arthur thinks he shouldn't have even been in the state the day before. Alfred was in the north building when it happened, in the middle. Arthur doesn't know all the details- no one does.

All Arthur knew was the Alfred tried saving his people and when he'd wake... Alfred is going to blame himself. He's going to cry and blame himself for the deaths, the attacks, all of it. Over two thousands lives lost, and he's going to blame himself for each and every one. He'll be so distraught and broken when he was so bright and cheery only two days before, boisterously laughing off rude comments and insults thrown his way.

"Alfred," Arthur spoke again, closing his eyes to keep the dam from breaking. "Alfred, please... Wake up... Open your eyes... Just a little bit. I know it hurts, I know you're in pain, but, please! I-I'm scared... Matthew's scared... Please, just say something... Laugh, cry, scream, anything!" A few tears slipped free down his cheeks.

A soft groan sounded, and Arthur opened his eyes. Alfred's head rolled slightly to the side, his blue eyes lazily fluttering open. "You... I haven't... Seen you cry in years..." The young American's voice was hoarse and weak, but it still made Arthur sob so happily. Alfred grunted as the smaller man fell on top of him, squeezing him as if his life depended on it. "Arthur?"

England tucked his face in Alfred's chest, fists tightening on Alfred's hospital gown. "Y-you scared me, you arsehole!"

Alfred furrowed his brows, deeply confused, but still slowly lay his arms over Arthur's back. "Arthur?"

"Don't- don't blame yourself," Arthur hiccuped, squeezing Alfred. "It's n-not your fault..."

"Arthur-"

"Promise! Promise me you won't blame yourself!"

"Arthur, I-"

"Please, Alfred!" Arthur jerked his head up, locking his teary gaze with Alfred's glazed, tired eyes. "Promise me..."

"I-" Alfred paused, confused. "I promise," he slowly replied, drawing a sigh of relief from Arthur as the elder slumped on his chest.

"Thank you..."