Gilbert, Gilbert. Prussia. England's frantic breathing slowed down and his gaze slowly shifted to the blob in the chair. His eyes were starting to get used to the darkness, and soon he could see Prussia's hair, and his eyes, and the rest of his body followed. The pet-name seemed to calm him down instantly. He relaxed his body. Should he have been more cautious? Probably. What if Prussia had gone berserk like his brother.

"Something... wrong. With your brother..." His eyes slid shut again. He wanted to run away. How could he face the other country like this? England hated looking weak in front of Prussia, in front of anyone. He was so ashamed.