USUK/UKUS One Shots

The Eleventh of September (Sad)

Warnings: Sad, 9/11, Blood, Documentary has intense footage

Summary: England is with America on September 11th when the plane crashes occur

Word count: 1,268

Estimated read time: 12 mins and 30 seconds

Arthur's POV

8:46 AM- Flight 11 hits the North World Trade Center

I was in the kitchen when I heard a thump in the living room. Glancing at the door, I called, "Alfred? Did you trip?" 

No reply. 

"Alfred?" 

Still nothing. I got up from the table, leaving my breakfast. I entered the living room and for a moment, I didn't see my boyfriend. Then I noticed the crumpled figure on the ground. 

"Alfred!" I ran over to his side, turning him over onto his back. On his stomach, a dark red bloodstain began to appear. "Oh my god, Alfie! Wake up!" 

What had happened? How was he hurt? I tugged up the bottom of his shirt. A deep, deep gash was open, gushing blood. 

"Alfred, wake up!" 

His eyes fluttered open. They looked unfocused and he didn't seem to notice his injury for a moment. 

And then came the screams.

I kept pressure on the wound, looking around for the nearest phone. Grabbing it with bloodied hands, I realized I didn't know the emergency number in America. My stomach dropped. Instead, I dialed for the closest person to us- Matthew. He was visiting from Canada and may be able to help. 

"Hello?" Matthew's voice came from the other end of the line. 

"Matthew!" 

"Arthur? What-"

"It's Alfred, he's hurt, I need you to get over here. Bring the car!" Arthur instructed, voice shaking. 

Matthew sounded alarmed. "Hurt? What do you mean by hurt?" 

"Just get here!" I hung up, tossing the phone aside and trying to stop the bleeding, but the wound was just too big. All I could hear was Alfred's cries of pain. All I could feel was warm blood between my fingers. All I could see was red. 

Matthew arrived within minutes, bursting through the door and seeing Alfred. "Oh my god!" 

"Start the car, we need to get to the hospital!" 

"It's still running." 

Matthew and I lifted Alfred up. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. We got him into the backseat, me staying beside him and Matthew slamming on the gas. 

The car ride was only a few minutes long, but it felt like an eternity. 

"Stop! Please, please stop!" Alfred cried, begging me to take my hands off the wound. It hurt him more, but it was for the best. Still, I felt guilty. "A- Arthur, please! It hurts!"

I looked over at Matthew. "Drive faster."

We arrived at the ER, carrying Alfred until some nurses noticed him, shouting directions and getting a gurney. Alfred was lifted onto it and immediately wheeled away where I couldn't follow. 

9:03 AM- Flight 175 hits the South World Trade Center

"Honey! Honey! Look!" A woman cried, grabbing her husband's arm and pointing at a TV on mute in the corner of the room. On the screen were the World Trade Centers, one of them billowing smoke.