Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4650798.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Major_Character
      Death
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Hetalia:_Axis_Powers
  Relationship:
      America_(Hetalia)/England_(Hetalia), England_(Hetalia)/Prussia_(Hetalia)
  Character:
      England_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), America_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), Prussia_
      (Hetalia:_Axis_Powers)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Abuse, Sexual_Abuse, Non-Graphic_Rape/
      Non-Con, Depression, Implied/Referenced_Suicide, Implied/Referenced_Self-
      Harm
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-08-25 Updated: 2015-10-07 Chapters: 2/? Words: 3255
****** We're Too Young to be this Depressed ******
by inazumaghostking
Summary
     Life isn't as simple as it seems. Gilbert and Arthur learn this the
     hard way. [Discontinued?]
Notes
     I had put warnings on but I feel the need to type out a personal one.
     If you have experienced rape, abuse, sexual abuse or whatever, please
     don't read this as it might be a trigger. If you are suffering with
     depression or any other mental illness, please don't read this as it
     may be a trigger. I don't care if it's your favourite show or ship.
     Take care of yourselves first.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Meeting Arthur Kirkland *****
It happened again. He walked into class with bruises painted on his skin. It
was starting to annoy me how this image was becoming familiar to me. We weren't
friends, per say, or close at all. He didn't stand out in the halls or
anything, but I always noticed the invisible boy. Arthur would shuffled into
school with his head hung down. Most students who noticed didn't ask and those
teachers who questioned got turned away.
My pupils followed Alfred as he made his way to said Brit. They were a famous
couple in the school considering they were the All-Star Player and the All-Star
Student. From my observations, however, they don't seem to be in the happy-go-
lucky relationships everyone talks about. He grabbed Arthur's hand and dragged
the young man through the halls. The World's Most Perfect Couple, I
sarcastically thought as I rolled my eyes. I felt overprotective towards
Arthur. It ruined me to see him so broken.
Lunch was more interesting than usual. I sat with my usual group, Francis,
Antonio, Elizabeta and Roderich. From the corner of my eye, I saw the two
arguing in the side lines. It was subtle and presumably quiet (as no one note
what was happening), but they were bickering about something. Once again,
Alfred had dragged him off somewhere. Their friends hardly cared for their
absence. I turned my attention back to my own companions. I had no place to
intrude in whatever was happening between the two.
Shit. I should not have come here; I've seen too much. I clumsily spilled
orange juice all over my shirt. I was only lucky that Roderich, being the
perfectionist he is, had one spare for me to change into. I innocently made my
way to the bathroom to clean myself up only to be greeted with the image of
Alfred hitting Arthur. The All-Star Jock glared at me and slapped his boyfriend
one more time before storming out, claiming that if I told anyone then I'd
regret every moment of it. Arthur just stood in his place and locked his view
on the floor. He was trembling violently, rubbing desperately at his eyes. He
seemed disturbingly used to this.
Arthur Kirkland. His sandy-blonde hair fell softly on his forehead and his lime
eyes lacked the sparkle of life. They were constantly puffy and his nose was
permanently read - all of these were probably from crying. I stood awkwardly
and stared at the boy trying to hold himself together in front of me. After a
few seconds, I walked up to him and placed a hand softly on his shoulder. That
was the first formal interaction I had with him, which I found gravely
disappointing. If I were to have it any other way, it were be a small
conversation in the hallway, not trying to help him get over his boyfriend
abusing him.
"Dude, are you okay?" I awkwardly asked. I mentally facepalmed. Of course he
wasn't okay, Gilbert, you idiot. He nodded gently and held his lip between his
teeth. He moved away from me to the sink to splash water onto his face. I
decided to stay longer to see if he needed anything. He just gripped the edges
of the rim. He held his breath desperately the supress the violent shaking in
his breath. I wasn't good at social interactions anymore, so I had no idea what
to say. Everyone has their own preferences: some like to be left alone, some
like to be around friends. It's different. Always different. I would know.
We stared at each other from the mirror. He seemed to calm down slightly,
however, his cheek was still a bright red. He took a deep breath in a carved a
smile into his face. The corners twitched and I could practically feel the
amount of pain he was harbouring inside of him. He was going to push me away,
tell me some bullshit. I was certain because that's what I do.
His lips parted, but before he could utter a word, I strode towards him and
enveloped him into a hug, all words dissipate into nothingness. I felt him
tremble in my arms before he fell limp and allowed all his feelings to pour
out.
This was the first time I met Arthur Kirkland, and although it wasn't the best
meetings in the history of meetings, I don't regret it.
The next few days were dull. It was the same boring school, same boring
lessons, same boring lunch, same boring life. I started to wonder when
everything got so... Boring. It wasn't like this all the time for me. I used to
live happily and awesomely, but that's all in the past. I didn't see much of
Arthur (Alfred was probably trying to avoid me considering I saw too much.) It
made me feel great unease for the poor Brit - I was correct to worry about him
in the first place.
For some reason, God placed upon me the curse of bad timing. I had just gotten
out of detention and I felt like putting nicotine into my system before
returning home. The only place without cameras in our school is at the back
(which is usually closed off, but the fence is easy to jump on both sides.)
Before I turned the corner, I had heard something crash into the bins. I peeked
to see what happened, but my ninja skills aren't sharp. Alfred, who was
apparently an Eagle (ironically), spotted me almost instantly. He cussed me
out, claiming that I had no right to be there. He was about to pummel me, but
Arthur stopped him and took the beating. I, being the wimp I am, just stood and
watched. My whole body was tensed - I couldn't move. My dad was right, I was a
wimp. The abusive scheißekopf stormed off after threatening me once again.
Arthur was curled up on the floor. Once Alfred was out of eye and ear shot, I
rushed to his aid once again.
"We need to stop meeting like this," I chuckled softly. Wrong time to joke
around, Gilbert. Dummkopf. I supported him against the wall and inspected his
wounds. Alfred beat him, but he didn't break anything. Smart, kind of. There
would be bruising, obviously, and his lip was cut. His nose was avoided
(luckily) and whispers blew through the wind as I crouched helplessly. He shaky
hand covered my own that rested upon my knee; his emerald orbs smiled up weakly
at me. "How are you so calm?" I wondered silently, but his ears picked it up.
"I'm used to it."
The Kirklands were out at work. He was fairly vague about his parents, but I
didn't press on it. He's been through enough today. His house was fairly...
Well, messy would be an understatement. His living room probably had more
plates than his kitchen. Clothes were scattered all long the floor and there
were weird food stains that, well, stained the carpet. Carrying him through the
disorganized dump was harder than expected as all I had to rely on was his
small directions. I had half-expected that the blonde's room would be the same
as the others, but to my surprise, it was incredibly clean. It happened to
shine, in fact. Everything had their place, everything was neat - hell - from
what I could see through the small crack in his wardrobe, even his clothes were
colour-coordinated.
I lay him down gently and tried to make sure that he made no sudden jerks that
would give him more unnecessary pain. Although his body was stuff and few bones
were probably bruised, the sparkle in his eyes never gave out, which surprised
me. Alfred was one of the strongest people in the school, that beating would've
hurt a lot. What is Arthur doing playing around with so much fire?
"I know what your thinking," he suddenly said, breaking the silence and pulling
me from my thoughts. "What am I doing with an asshole like him?"
I scoffed and nodded. Both Arthur and Alfred had a reputation at the school. No
one seemed to even consider that their famed relationship was like this. Hell,
even Francis, the year's romantic (and manwhore) didn't suspect this. Sure,
bondage was mentioned a couple times, but this was far worse then it.
"He didn't used to be like this, you know," he continued softly. The light in
his gems seemed to fade a little. "Back when we were younger, he was better -
kinder. But, you know... People change."
Yeah, people change.
We had stopped meeting so awkwardly. During lunch, when his oh-so-perfect
boyfriend was out at practice, he would sit by our table and read, although, he
would occasionally argue with Francis. A lot. Most of the time. Okay, he
doesn't read at all, but that's besides the point. In an aggressive sort of
way, he seemed happier; and in a sort of way I seemed happier as well... That
was, until that night.
"Gilbert,"
Arthur had called me at 3 in the morning, his voice was hushed and rattled. He
was crying. He sniffed and tried to hold back his tears. There was hardly any
speaking on his end of the line. In the background was mostly static, sobbing
and... Snoring?
"Gilbert, help me." he whispered. "Gilbert, I don't have much time."
What's happening?
"I-It's Alfred... He... He's here. In bed. With me."
What the fuck does that mean? Shit.
"Gilbert, I don't have much time-"
"Arthur, what the fuck do you think your doing?"
"Nothing, Alfred, just please, go back to sleep."
"It's probably that Gilbert dick, isn't it? Isn't it?!"
"Alfred, calm down-"
"How many times do I have to tell you-"
"Alfred-"
"You're mine."
Blank Line.
***** Helping Arthur Kirkland *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
My body hated me the following morning. I literally got no sleep that night; I
was too busy panicking, worrying. After many attempts of calling him again and
again, I eventually got blocked and was left to panic alone. I spent the rest
of the night with nothing; not even the annoying buzzing of the ringing to
comfort me. It didn't help that my head was played through the worse scenarios
I could think of.
'Alfred could have beaten him up again, or worse, touched him. He could be
seriously hurt.'
School didn't really help me confirm his safety. He wasn't in any of the
classes we shared. I wasn't in the same form as he was, so I had no idea if he
was even here.
'Is he even alive?'
No, stop it, brain. Shit. I bit my lip desperately as I tried to keep myself
collected. If my friends noticed my sudden fall in composure, they'll force me
to spill; and frankly, I can't be bothered to be beaten up by Alfred today. My
leg shook vigorously under the table. Liza seemed to notice. Her eyes were
filled with annoyingly sweet worry, just like a concerned mother. Her touch was
gentle on my knee as she asked me what's wrong. My thoughts stampeded through
my head as I tried to think of an answer. Do I lie or do I tell the truth? My
bottom lip quivered slightly as my mouth parted, my brain racing, struggling
for a single answer.
"He probably forgot to take his Methylphenidate Pills." Roderich muttered under
his breath. His expression stayed bored and his eyes were glued to his tray.
The others glanced at him, silently questioning him not knowing what the heck a
Methylphenidate was. "ADHD medication," he simply explained. Show off - he
knows I can't even pronounce the fucking things.
I stood, my chair screeching across the floor. The attention turned from the
Austrian to me; even Roderich stopped staring at the stupid tray to share a
glare. I tried to think of some lame excuse to leave, but I had no energy for
it. I took a deep breath and left the room.
"Gilbert, you must come over tonight. Antonio's parents are out and he knows
where they stash the alcohol," Francis insisted, grabbing my hand in attempt to
drag me towards the Spaniard's house. I scowled and stole back my arm.
"I'm not feeling well," I muttered before leaving. I could feel them whispering
behind my back, but I just couldn't give a shit.
The music blasted in my ears. I looked up and barely recognised the place.
Without realising it, I had let my body lead me to the Kirkland Household. I
felt sick. There was no car in front of their house, implying that if Arthur
was in there, he was alone. My hand knocked against wood and waited, the air
around me turning heavy and suffocating. I hear faint sounds of movement from
the inside, the noise mercilessly plucking at my strings of hope. The
butterflies bounced against the sides of my stomach rapidly. God, this is like
some kind of cruel joke.
"Arthur?" I croaked nervously. The door cracked open, revealing a small tuft of
blonde hair. I heard him gasp before he closed the door again. All my emotions
started to sink. Fuck. I leaned against the door and knocked one more. "Arthur,
please,"
I fell forward slightly as the surface I was leaning on sunk back. A small
squeak escaped my lips as I bumped into him.
"Wh-What are you doing here, Gilbert?" he asked, his voice barely audible. My
own was caught in my throat; I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There were
deep blotches of red placed around his neck and collar bone. His hair was messy
and his eyes were swollen from crying. Once again, he looked so broken. Without
thinking, my arms enveloped themselves around him gently, careful to not crush
the frail Brit. "Y-You.. You shouldn't.. B-Be.. Here.." He muttered weakly
before breaking down into my shoulder. He fell limp against me and I carefully
carried him to his room. I had tried my best to memories the way, but I
eventually got there. I tried to lay him down on his bed, but the Brit locked
his arms around my neck. My lips twitched into a frown. The deja vu left a
bitter taste in my mouth. I placed my body next to his and he shuffled closer,
burying his face in my chest. The feeling of worthlessness dawned upon me as I
ran out of ideas to help. What was I doing here?
The silence was drowned out with small, muffled cries. Hell, I felt like I was
drowning. I was useless towards the whole situation. All I could do was hold
him until he wishes to not be held. I wonder how long it has been since someone
was this gentle with him.
The crying calmed down into sniffles. His grip on my back loosened and his
breath felt hot against my wet chest.
"Sorry," he croaked weakly, "I must look pathetic right now."
My head strung together comforting words to say to him, but my voice refused to
let them come out. Instead of speaking said sentences, I chose to rub his back
comfortingly. Screw my un-awesome awkwardness. "N-No." I grunted gingerly. "You
have every right to feel like this, Arthur. Just let it out; I'm fine with it."
He stared up at me, his eyes thanking me greatly. My grip on the smaller man
tightened as we buried ourselves into each other. I breathed in his familiar
tea scented hair and closed my eyes.
'Roderich...'
"And the redhead with the nice ass? Damn, I should have gotten her number!"
What?
"Oi, I'm going to check up on Arthur. Haven't seen the brat in, what, two days
now?"
"Haha, are you turning soft, Alistair?"
"Shut up, Seamus!"
Arthur? What is happening? Who's Seamus and Alistair and- fuck. My eyes tore
open and my body twitched violently enough to wake the sleepy blonde.
"G-Gilbert? What's wrong?" a faded mumble yawned. In my panic state, my body
froze when I looked down at our bodies. Our legs and arms were tangled
together. I felt my face heat up; I fucking hate how clingy I get in my sleep.
The door clicked open and my heart metaphorically stopped.
"Artie, how ya' doing you nerd?" he belted out, apparently not noticing my
existence yet. Once he did, however, awkwardness practically seeped out of him.
"Artie, who's your friend?"
"He... He's Gilbert."
"Hello Gilbert."
Another silence.
"Artie, why is Gilbert in your bed?"
The crushing glares of Arthur's brothers almost made me squirm in my seat. We
had spent the last however many minutes trying to convince them that we weren't
doing anything to or with each other whilst in bed. Well, I had been sitting
silently whilst Arthur desperately repeated the fact that our clothes were
still intact and the bed had no weird stains or anything. There was also the
lack of smell of sex that his brother - Seamus, I think his name was - picked
up on. Luckily for me, Alistair finally calmed down. He did, however, leave me
with a threatening note before I departed from the Kirkland Household.
Arthur didn't come to school a few more days after the incident. He unblocked
my number and asked me to take notes for him. He needed to keep a good rep,
being Student Body President and all. I had tried to bring up the topic on
multiple occasions, but, understandingly, he was hesitant and always instantly
changed the topic. I stopped asking, eventually, much to his relief. Anxiety
washed the overwhelming feeling of guilt over me. I hate myself sometimes.
I lounged in my room, reading the book we were set to read. It is called
Catcher on the Rye. I surprisingly relate to Holden, and I've only read the
opening chapter. That's all we were set to read, but I craved to read more.
This was the first time in a long time I wanted to voluntarily do more than
set. My phone interrupted me as it buzzed to life. I expected it was another
text to Arthur, but to my surprise, Roderich's name was formed onto the bar
instead of Arthur's. Both fear and curiosity surged through my body. My hand
was hesitant, but I eventually forced myself to look at it. I bit my lip. God,
the things this boy does to me.
My dad threw a dirty look towards me as I trudged inside the kitchen. Deciding
that I was too tired for any kind of bullshit, I brushed him off and proceeded
to find the most sickeningly sweet ice cream we owned. He scoffed, claiming
that I was a fat pig. For fuck sake.
"You know what, dad?" I growled lowly, my eyes still glued at the tub. "I may
allegedly be a 'fat pig' because I want a bit of some fucking ice cream, but at
least I didn't drive mum insane to the point where she fucking left us!"
Big mistake.
One second I was at home, the next I was in Arthur's neighbourhood, holding my
bleeding nose. I searched out his house and knocked impatiently at his door.
The tears I held back burned my eyes. Fuck. Eventually, Arthur opened the door;
the look of surprise slapped onto his face in a second flat.
"Gilbert, what happened?" he asked, his voice coated with concern. I tried to
sniffle, but the metallic smell almost chocked me. I felt my cheeks dampen as I
replayed the events. Roderich's text. My dad.
"I need to talk. Now."
Chapter End Notes
     Sorry about the lateness and how short this chapter is. I'm not
     feeling (psychologically) well at the moment. This is also un-beta'd,
     since I had no motivation to do it myself and I lack friends to do it
     for me. Hurray.
     Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this mess of a chapter.
     Thank you.
End Notes
     I know this chapter was short, but there shall be longer ones. I just
     didn't want to make the start too long or too over-dramatic. If you
     spot any mistakes Grammar Wise, Logic Wise or Spelling Wise, then
     please point it out to me so I can correct it. Much appreciated.
     Thank you for reading. Remember: Be safe.
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