The England Experiment

Haven't you realised yet?

Arthur scanned the room, feeling lightheaded. It was filled with faces he vaguely recognised, but everyone was so uncomfortably different. He hadn't even recognised France for a moment there. 

He silently took it all in, touching his fingers to the hot mess around his neck, surprised when they came away bloody. He stared at the blood, confused. He didn't seem to be wounded. And yet his blood ran all over his chest, beginning to dry up. He frowned. This was a nice shirt. Ruined.

He snapped his fingers at Alfred without looking up from his fingers. Alfred looked at him, startled and confused. 

"America. Your coat." Alfred was wearing a sweater and he tugged it off over his head, unaware. He walked over to Arthur, holding out the sweater and putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder. 

"Arthur? What happened?" Arthur looked up, glancing at Alfred's hand on his shoulder. Alfred was shocked at the look of pure disgust on his face. 

"You called me Arthur?" he asked quietly, looking accusingly up at Alfred, who felt his stomach tighten. He suddenly didn't feel so comfortable with his hand on his shoulder. He wasn't sure how, but Arthur seemed grossly familiar all of a sudden. 

"Y-yeah man-" 

Suddenly Arthur had grabbed Alfred's wrist and was twisting it painfully behind his back. Alfred cried out as he was shoved to his knees. The nations watched, frozen with shock, as the nation suppressed America with ease. 

"Oh, sorry America," Arthur sneered down at Alfred, twisting his wrist back and he winced. "I just thought for a second that you might have forgotten your place." Arthur released Alfred and he scrambled back, looking genuinely scared. Arthur scowled at the smudge of blood on his fingers. "Now, your coat. Don't make me ask a third time."

They watched in a surprised silence as Alfred bit his lip and dipped his head, handing the sweater over with a quiet apology. 

Arthur gave a long sigh and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and forcefully ripped up the sweater. He wiped around his neck, smearing blood until it was properly mopped up. His pale skin was stained a horrifying red down his chest and his hair was matted with dried blood but he didn't seem to care, calmly dumping the bloodstained sweater on the ground next to Alfred. He looked around condescendingly at the others. Ludwig snapped to his senses, hardly believing his own reaction. This was so wrong and Arthur didn't seem to realise. He stepped forwards cautiously as Arthur rubbed at the blood on his hands. 

"W-wait, England, what's going on?" Arthur gave him a confused look and scoffed. 

"And who the hell are you supposed to be? Prussia? Did that old albino finally keel over and die?" but he raised a brow and smirked as he spotted Gilbert. "Ah, no then."

Ludwig froze. He couldn't be serious, could he? But Arthur did look genuinely confused. In his own insulting way. 

Francis couldn't stop staring. He had hardly believed it, but this was real. The Arthur the stood before them now hadn't known Germany. The country had formed after Arthur had changed, melted into the man he should be today. No wonder he assumed it was Prussia. He only had the accent to go on. Germany would have only been a mere child if the Great British Empire ever met him.

"I'm Germany." Ludwig said, staring at Arthur. "Deutschland. Germany." Arthur furrowed his brows. 

"Oh, ah yes; I realise. East or West?" Arthur was asking a genuine question, and Ludwig was stunned. 

"N-no. Germany. It's one country." Ludwig gave Arthur a concerned look. "England, you don't remember?" he whispered. Arthur looked confused, and scoffed, rolling his eyes.