A loud scream of "NOOOOOOOO ARGENTINAAA!" was heard from the living room. The two nations currently located in the kitchen, eating brunch, simultaneously rolled their eyes.

Alfred carefully munched on his grilled cheese sandwich, grimacing every now and then at the burnt parts. He sighed inwardly at his husband's failed attempt at a decent brunch. Still, he guessed he should appreciate his effort, as futile as it was. "I wonder what's got her so upset", the American said with his mouth full.

Arthur scowled at his husband's lack of manners, but shrugged and said, "Probably the football match."

Alfred looked up, eyes wide with confusion. "Wait, the cup's still going on? But, my team was eliminated!" The sheer ignorance of this statement caused Arthur to almost spit out his tea but, remembering that it wasn't gentleman like, painfully swallowed it back down. He gave Alfred an incredulous look.

"Are you really that big a narcissist?" He leaned forward to swat the younger man on the head, but was prevented from doing so when Alfred grabbed his hand, bringing it to his lips.

"I was joking, Artie." He gave his husband a look of amusement.

Arthur blushed and snatched his hand from the American's grasp. "I-I'm going to check on Becca, to see if she hasn't already gotten a heart attack." He placed his plate and cup into the sink and walked towards the living room. Upon entering, he was greeted with the sight of a 16 year old girl, reclining appallingly on his couch, staring at the t.v. as if she were about to break down in tears. She had dark hair and was wearing a black tank top with navy blue shorts. Arthur realized that though the match was over, and they were now showing interviews with distraught fans, the girl was still staring at the t.v. in shock.

"Arthur." She turned to look at him, and he was slightly intimidated by the look on her face, then stood and grabbed the front of his shirt. Her eyes were hidden by her mass of dark hair.

"Y-yes Becca?" The girl could be so bloody frightening when she was mad.

"When you see Ludwig, punch the bastard for me, 'kay?" At this point, she looked him directly in the eyes. "And tell him…good fucking game." Then she dropped her head onto his shoulder. "I'm so sad, Arthur!"

Arthur sighed, but wrapped his arms around the girl. "You know, I think you get a bit too dramatic with these games."

"Oh please Arthur, you practically cried in my arms when the English team was eliminated." Alfred spoke up, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, causing Arthur to jump slightly and Becca to scream loudly. She quickly composed herself and stared indignantly at Arthur.

"See! So you should understand my pain!" She wrenched herself out of Arthur's grasp and instead grabbed onto Alfred, effectively declaring him her new comfort pillow.

Arthur sighed yet again. "Alright fine, I understand your pain. Anyways, have you eaten already?"

Becca stuck out her tongue for no reason in particular. "Ehh, I already had some breakfast while you two were busy cuddling or having a quickie or whatever this morning."

Both nations blushed and stared at Becca in shock. It was still quite surprising how blunt the girl could be about many things, especial those of a sexual nature.

Later that night, during dinner

The "family" was currently eating home made burgers (courtesy of Alfred and Becca, who both refused any help Arthur offered) in the living room, checking around to see what was showing on the t.v.

Becca looked up suddenly from where she was sadly chewing on her burger, still clearly in shock over the events of the two games of the day, both of which were a diappointment to her. Damn Europeans knocking out another of our South American teams. "Hey, tomorrow's Alfred's birthday. What are you planning on doing for him Arthur?"

Arthur stopped eating mid-bite, and frowned slightly. He loved Alfred to death, he really did, but it was so hard to think of the younger nation's birthday and remember what it means. Independence Day. "I'm not quite sure, I just agreed to do whatever Alfred wanted to do. Bloody stupid agreement, but at least it saves me the trouble of thinking up something to get for the stupid git."

Alfred flicked a pickle slice at his husband. "I'm right here Arthur, gosh." He looked at Becca at her place on the floor. "Eheh, I think we might just go to the beach, and then watch the fireworks on the Hudson River."

Becca scrunched up her nose. "Ew, count me out of that beach thing, I hate beaches. I'll be hanging out with Gil. But I'm totally into joining you guys for fireworks." She turned to stare at Arthur, who was still looking down due to the memories of those years. She got up and placed her head on Arthur's lap.

"Don't be sad England." Arthur instantly jerked out of his memory, and stared at the child in front of him. She rarely used his or Alfred's real names. She looked sad herself, though he had a feeling it wasn't about football anymore. "I can tell you feel bad about the whole…American Revolution thing…but it's in the past now. And see? You two are together again…but it's better this time, you know? I mean, even if you can't be together as nations, it still means something that you can be together as people. America's not mad at you, or anything. And don't pay attention to any of us stupid Americans who say bad things about you, what matters is that Alfred loves you. He may represent our nation, but he doesn't share our opinions sometimes. He doesn't have anything against you, and likewise, don't you hold anything against him. Just…just be happy that you two have each other now, and don't dwell on the past." Becca stood up and walked out of the living room.

Arthur barely registered that Alfred had sat himself down next to him on the couch when he was pulled into a warm embrace. The younger of the two rested his chin on the top of Arthur's head. "She's right, and to be honest, I was also kind of thinking 'bout those years. I really don't have anything against you Arthur, it was a really long time ago, and everyone was like that. I'm really glad we don't do that anymore."

Arthur glanced up through his choppy blond hair. "Do what?"

Alfred hummed. "Y'know, try and rule over each other. Things are a little better now, but I really wish we could all live in peace one day, united as a planet, not as separate countries."

Arthur smiled and grabbed his husband's hand. "Peace. It sounds marvelous. But, what would happen to the world's hero 1?" He turned to face Alfred, so close that their noses were touching, breaths intermingling, becoming one. Alfred chuckled and closed their small distance with a kiss.

"I'd still be your hero, Arthur. Always, forever."

From the other room, Becca saw the two, and smiled. I somehow think they didn't really need me to say anything at all. Those two will be just fine.