Includes two endings: FrUk and UsUk.

Warnings:

Fruk & UsUk (meaning a gay couple, don't like, don't click!)

Mild Sexual Themes (won't ruin the sane mind, only references)

Angst

Slight OOC

Standard disclaimers apply.

Hello, it's me.

England felt his body tense as two other blondes fell into his sights. Both with stunning blue eyes, tall figures, and represented countries that were nearly opposites... Like himself and one of the two.

If after all these years you'd like to meet to go over, everything.

He forced himself to sit down in his seat, tearing his gaze from the duo and attempting to focus on his papers set in front of him. Arthur gritted his teeth and picked up the documents, quickly scanning them over. He could still feel their presence... Feel the cuts in his heart as they spoke, and spoke back... They were lies, right? All their words, fake? The man felt his breath shorten. Get your mind off of it, and you'll be able to survive a single wretched meeting.

They say that time's supposed to heal.

His hands closed around the paper, creating a crinkling noise that brought the attention of some countries, who gave him questioning glances as they walked past or were seated in their spots. He set them down, and closed his eyes. He could still feel it. The agony. Awful, frosted knives to his soul.

But I ain't done much healing.

As soon as he opened his eyes again, he saw one of them. Golden blonde hair, somewhat messy, with an ahoge standing in the split. Glasses were propped upon his face, shielding his bright blue eyes above his beaming smile as he shouted to several allies, claiming his heroism. America, Alfred F. Jones, England's former colony, and ex-boyfriend.

Hello, can you hear me?

It was too much to just hear his voice. Much less see him. Between him and the other blonde, he had caused him the most pain; even if they didn't have as many outbursts as he did with the other. It was just how he left him that day. Said he loved him the next day, and hated him after that. A series of unbearable ups and downs. And I thought he loved me, foolish. Said American sat down in his seat and gave Japan a dazed smile, which earned a dusting of pink on the Japanese man's cheeks that caused Alfred to laugh and call him 'adorable'. England had barely a clue on how he didn't break down then and there.

I'm here dreaming about who we used to be, when we were younger and free.

It worked in the past, why didn't it work now? England knew, that these were questions without answers, only opinions. Normally one would move on, forget about the ordeal. Not him, it never was him who was normal. As Arthur forced his eyes somewhere else, he scowled ironically. No one here is normal.

I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet.

They were so strong, admired and respected by everyone. Paired together even before they became a couple. It should have lasted, should've lived. Those had been his thoughts, but apparently not fate's. He ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. He really shouldn't be thinking about this, here.

There's such a difference between us, a million miles.

He'd lived there for so long, away from his own home and land. Staying with the one he thought would rule the world with him, aid the English conquests... That was such a lie. What wasn't a lie at this point anyways? All other relationships around him were for sure not going to last all of their incredibly extended lives. None of them. England's eyes darkened. None of them were going to 'live happily ever after'. They were going to 'live awfully ever on'.

Hello from the other side...

He wanted to let go, but he knew it was impossible now. Not from America, not anymore. He'd broken him too many times, he would leave... Arthur looked around, spotting the other cause of his insecurity. Regret scored a mark across his heart again, accompanied by the never-leaving agony. England felt that he had hurt himself the most when he had the breakdown with him. They've known each other for so long... They formed a relationship easily...

I must've called a thousand times...

He'd loved the Frenchman, sure, he would admit that. Many times. But seeing him now brought absolutely no love to him, just... He couldn't even bring himself to put it in words. Words were short, meaningless. The whole reason he only spoke when absolutely necessary now. Words and speech just reminded him of the fight. He felt weak. Pathetic, torn by the two he loved. Why had he fought?

To tell you I'm sorry, for everything that I've done.

Why. A question without an answer. Had he acted on impulse of the emotion hidden inside? Acted by screaming, eyes ablaze with frustration and fists clenching to connect with the forms that also went by the title 'personification of a country'. He remembered each second, all his words, he regrets. The words they said, that they bask in without any cares. They've moved on... He hadn't and never will.

But when I call you never seem to be home.

Arthur wanted to take it all back, wish it never broke out. He wouldn't be like this if it hadn't of happened. You're weak, unable to move on from the presence of two you claim to hate. He knew he would never be able to bring himself to apologize to them. Even if he did, they probably would've forgotten about him, taken away by their new lovers... England's emerald eyes narrowed as he noted how close Francis seemed to be to Antonio. Wasn't Spain in a relationship with Romano..? The Englishman felt a stab of sympathy for the Italian, who he couldn't see at the moment. He's being cheated, like you.

Hello from the outside...

They didn't care who they left in the dust, did they? Like they didn't remember that they were people, too. They could feel the rejection easily- if anything they were more prone to it. They were on the outside. He could list how many countries he saw in the past that shared the same position as him. Countless shatters of the heart. He stared down at the table and hid his anguished expression as he saw France give Spain a large hug, their faces roughly five centimetres apart, just as Lovino arrived. The Italian cringed, his olive eyes filling with misery, and quickly walked away.

At least I can say that I've tried.

England had tried to hard to stay close to America and raise him properly. That failed so badly... After, he tried to live by France and attempted to accept him in, which only worked in the beginning. All other nations barely spoke to him, knowing only of his sharp-tongued personality. He'd tried so hard his whole life, from the beginning. Fought his way up, and only ended up tortured for his effort to aid the world.

To tell you I'm sorry, for breaking your heart.

He wanted to reach out to them, take it all back. Say one damned word, that seemed so hard to speak: "Sorry." To set it in a context, of what he'd done... "I'm so sorry, I should never have done it. I should've..." England stopped himself as soon as he realized he was speaking to himself then sighed. Wasn't the meeting supposed to begin? All the nations seemed to be in their appropriate seating and were actually sitting, they were all chatting normally... Maybe someone was missing. Missing? Like your heart.

But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore.

He could apologize, but what would it do? Would France just part ways with Spain to be with him? A knot formed in Arthur's stomach, which he was able to name: doubt. Would America shove Japan away- who was quite obviously infatuated with the American- for him? More doubt. Truly, would anyone reach for him? No. He would be abandoned and forever torn. He knew that they'd both gotten over it, the wounds of heartbreak and betrayal were sown over by new love, now only a small scar.

Hello, how are you?

The fight is what caused it all. The fight that caused it all, was caused by him. England felt himself tense as Alfred and Francis went back and forth harshly, their voices loud and clear. "You were the one who wanted independence from him and made a war out of it. And now you say you love him?" France growled with narrowed eyes, a mesmerizing mix of blues... Arthur shook his head, sinking further into his seat and trying to hide from the insults. "I did ask! I never would of hurt him, even if it was a war." "That's all you have, l'Amerique? You should be smarter than this, l'Angleterre put a lot into raising you." "I know he did! And I appreciate it, you're blind if you can't see it!" "So then why do you love him like so? Wasn't he a parent to you?" America froze, his eyes widening. He went to speak, then stopped, his face showing traces of defeat. France smirked, leaning forwards towards the American. "Disgusting, you love your father." Smack. England flinched and snapped his head up. Alfred was on his feet, enraged, hand raised near France's head. The Frenchman was bent over, clutching his face. "Sacre bleu! What was that for, imbecile?" He spat. America crossed his arms, scowling. "He's not my father. He's my lover."

It's so typical of me to talk about myself, I'm sorry.

Arthur's heart tore again. It wasn't a lie, what Alfred had just said. At least... Half of it was. "He's your father, hein Arthur? You raised him." England shut his eyes shut and searched rapidly for words. He choked out: "Neither of you.. Are lying." Both nations stared at him blankly. France attempted to stand, going to reach for the Englishman. "Mais... Tu l'as mis sous ton aile comme ton fils..." Alfred shoved him back, turning his head to stare England directly in the eye. "You might of done that, but you love me much more differently than that, don't you Iggy?" The Brit was speechless, unable to speak as Francis stared at him with a pained gaze. "I..." America walked up to him, around his chair, and wove his arms around England's shoulders and tapped his chest. "You what?" He couldn't speak. Wouldn't he say the wrong thing? If he chose France, he'd regret it for America; if he chose America, he'd regret it for France... Arthur jumped as France jolted up and practically ripped America from him. "I thought I told you love shouldn't be forced upon others!" He spoke, hands on America's collar dangerously. "Neither should pain, France." Alfred shot as he shoved him back into the table. Francis growled, his form weakening as he tried to stand. England's eyes darted back and forth. What should he do?

It's no secret,

That the both of us are running out of time.

"England, please, you can't choose Francis, what would I do?" "Non! Don't listen to him! L'Angleterre... Je t'aime, why would you go for him, he's your son!" The Brit shivered. How much he wanted to repeat the words France had spoken to him yet... Wasn't he supposed to side with America? Wasn't he supposed to say something? He felt his eyes glaze over... I hate you, I love you... It should be obvious if he loved one of them, right? He felt his heart tear once more unbearably, tears forming at the edge of his vision. America went towards him when he saw this. "You shouldn't be afraid to say who you love." Snap.That was it.

England stood abruptly, making Alfred flinch and jump back. "You think it's that easy, don't you?" At this, France stood and advanced to him, resting a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I can help you, l'Angleterre." He jerked back and growled. "You think you know me just because you grew up with me?" Francis' expression lit with fear. "I never-" "No! Neither of you! You're just shoving me in a corner and harassing me to choose between one of you! How do you think I feel right now?" America blinked and muttered: "I'm sorry." Then he reached for him and touched his hand, which made England swing his fist up and nearly connect it with Alfred's face. "Get. Off." England seethed as his optics alit with frustration. "Both of you! I don't love either of you!"

Arthur felt tears flow down from his eyes at the memory. Hadn't he rejected them both? He wouldn't be able to choose now, would he?

- UsUk Path -

"Good job on the electronics thing there, Japan!" America said, his face glowing with happiness. England felt a pang of jealousy at that. Bloody hell, stop thinking about it. You're crying during a World Meeting you imbecile. Arthur quickly shook his head and wiped the water from his face and glared at the papers, reading the ink printed on the sheets. Topic: The Middle-Eastern Refugee Crisis. England sniffed, that was actually something he planned on working on.

-After the meeting-

England quickly took all his things, set them in his bag and walked out. He hadn't spoken that much, if at all during the meeting. He had taken notes but he could barely concentrate when America spoke. He felt so bad for breaking his heart... Stop, he loves Japan. End. Of. Story.

Arthur sighed, watching his feet as he walked down the halls and headed for the elevator to reach the lobby floor and get out of the dreaded building with France and America in it. He pressed the 'down' button at the elevator stop and waited patiently, deliberately not thinking about any of the nations or world problems. A ding sounded and the elevator doors opened, thankfully no one was inside. England stepped in and pressed the lobby button and nearly pounded in the 'close door' one into the metal. "Attend! Stop the doors!" Arthur scowled at the sound of the voice, knowing well of the owner. Francis. He saw the Frenchman's long hair wave around as he darted inside the elevator by pushing the doors back a little, pausing as he saw the other nation. He took a deep breath and turned around, standing on the opposite side of the chamber. In the time that the doors went to close again another country had managed to get in, although... What was his name again? His hair was like Francis', only his eyes resembled Russia's... England blinked fearfully. Was he some sort of territory in Ivan's land? France perked up as he saw the somewhat frail-looking nation and hugged him, a smile plastered on his face. "Matthieu!" Oh. England nearly smacked himself in the face as he remembered who he was- another ex-colony, Canada. Said Canadian blushed fiercely and tried to pry his 'parent' off of him.

"H-hey Papa..." Francis grinned, hugged him again tighter and then went back to his corner. Arthur scoffed: "Good job, scaring your own son." France's air darkened as soon as the Brit's voice rang out. "He's your son too, at least I said hi to him." The Frenchman hissed. Canada tensed when Arthur spat: "Because I don't rape my colonies." Francis dropped his bags, his expression stony. "I never raped anyone, ever. But you definitely did it with America, and I did not." England paused his breathing, his forest eyes washing over with stress. France snorted and picked up his bags. Why did they have to be on the top floor- the 50th? "So what if I slept with Alfred a few times? Why do you care?" Matthew gasped quietly at England's statement. Arthur snapped his eyes to the Canadian a moment. "You have no right to be surprised, it isn't like you didn't sleep with him." Francis' froze in terror, eyes large. "You- Matthew what did... Did you actually? But you... You're brothers!"

Canada stared impatiently at the floor indicator that read 25 and muttered almost silently: "It less than seven times, I swear." Francis gasped, staring at the two others. "You're both awful." Francis gaped. England laughed, quite loudly actually because Canada jumped. "He actually topped me the first time, except I fought back. And if I recall walking in on you and Alfred, Matthew, you fought back too." Canada's face burned and he didn't even dare speak. France cringed in disgust. "I see you've made your decision. You lied when you said you didn't love either of us that night, l'Angleterre." He stated as the doors opened and he walked out right after Canada sprinted away. Arthur stood in shock a moment. I just said that, didn't I? Then... I must live with it. England got out of the elevator and walked across the lobby, his sights out for the American the whole time. Finally, he saw him waiting outside for some sort of vehicle service. England took in a sharp breath. If you never speak to him, he'll forget it sooner or later and will only faintly remember you by a jerk. It's now or never. "America!" England called out as he stepped outside, causing Alfred's head to snap up towards him. America smiled faintly, waving to him. Arthur approached him and searched his luminous blue eyes.

"I have to talk to you... About the fight, Alfred..."

America scowled at the recent memory, nodding curtly. "What about it?"

The Brit tried to find the right sentence, but only came out with: "I... I'm sorry, I lied to you that night... I don't hate you I... I know you love Japan, so I-" His voice quivered, loosing volume. As he went to continue, he felt Alfred throw his arms around his form and burry his face into England's messy, soft blonde hair. "It's not like that, between me and Japan. I never hated you, Arthur. I love you."

(Writer-chan is now dead after writing this, she apologizes because she doesn't ship this. You are welcome, UsUk shippers.)

- FrUk Path- (Writer-chan's path!)

Francis ruffled Antonio's fluffy brown hair, a laugh escaping him as the Spaniard squeaked and told him to stop. England flinched against his will. Why are you so stung? Didn't you say you didn't love him? Arthur scowled, and read over the paper, seeing the topic name: The Middle-Eastern Refugee Crisis. At least this was something he wanted to work on. Maybe that would take his mind off of all this...

-After the meeting-

England quickly shuffled his papers into place and set them in his bag quickly, not wanting to stay in the room with so many eyes on him, especially France and America's. He brushed a strand of hair that fell over his eye away and walked out quickly, reaching the elevator in less than two minutes. He pressed the 'down' button to call up the machine to his floor, the 50th. He sighed. This might take a while. England turned his head as he heard steps behind him, belonging to whom he didn't want to see. "'Sup Iggy?" Alfred said as he pulled up beside him, Japan arriving behind less than two seconds later. "Fine." Arthur muttered shortly. As soon as the elevator arrived with a ding he stepped inside and stood all the way at the back, not even bothering to press the lobby button, knowing well that either America or Japan would- which they did. Arthur leaned against the elevator wall with crossed arms; his eyes darkening every time Alfred or Kiku did something 'cute'. It lasted a few minutes and England huffed as they were only on the 25th floor. America noticed his former lover's behaviour and finally stated: "You think you could stop being jerk-ish right now, England?" Arthur growled. "Me? Jerk-ish? Oh sorry, but speak for yourself: I recall you nearly murdered Francis once." America scowled, turning to face him, although he glanced at Japan before doing so. "You want to bring that up now? How you didn't love either of us?" England tapped his fingers against his arm impatiently. "And you said Francis was blind. You're the sightless one. I lied. Acted on impulse."

"Then..." America blinked. "Who do you love?" "Harassing me again won't work." "I never harassed you." "Don't lie you git." "You were just too weak to admit you didn't love me because I didn't love you."

England froze as soon as Alfred finished his sentence- who even seemed to be shocked he said such. Arthur coughed, and stared at the floor. "So it was all a lie to get me to bed?" Kiku's eyes widened slightly at that. America sighed, not even answering. "You love Francis, it's clear. Good luck though, because I don't know if France is willing to give Spain up." At last, the elevator doors opened and he rushed out with Japan and exited the incredibly tense room, leaving a stunned Englishman. Arthur sighed deeply and walked out slowly, heading for the outside doors to leave. Although once he was outside, he saw America, speaking with France. Alfred's face was unreadable, and he couldn't see Francis'. As England went to turn away, Alfred flagged him down and shouted his name. Said Brit sighed and went towards them, his bright green eyes narrow. "What is it now America." Alfred scowled, and stepped back. "I did you a favour for once, I hope you appreciate it." He gave the smallest hint of a smile and went away. Arthur inclined his head in confusion, and glanced at France. "What did he say-" Before he could finish, Francis trapped the Englishman in a large hug and hid his face in his messy, soft blonde hair. "He told me what you said in the elevator... I'm sorry I never talked to you after..."

England tensed. "But I thought you and Spain..." France let go of him and shook his head. "Apparently he and Lovino were having a hard time, so I tried to give him and advice and cheer him up a bit. It was nothing like what you thought, mon amour." Arthur blinked a couple of times before hugging the other nation and let out a shaky sigh. "I-I was thinking I'd be alone..." Francis chuckled lightly, weaving his arms around the Brit's sides. "I'll never leave you, Arthur."

This.. Took so long to do. But I'm done. At last. I doubt I'll ever write UsUk ever again, but give the fans a chance I guess. Added Spamano and Ameripan because OTPS. Too tired to type now.