When you think about it, we were never really brothers. Brothers was the formal name. No, we were two little boys, one happened to be older, and we clung to each other while the Romans invaded, and the Celts began to die out. He called me brother, and I allowed it. We lived together, all of us. We lived at my little place, okay, it wasn't really little. It was a huge castle. In fact, we all had rooms of our own. Then they took him away from us.

He came back after a while, he had grown a lot. It actually suprised me even though I watched his twin brother grow up. They were still the same size, only up to my shoulder, their hair was still messy and their eyes were still as bright as ever. We were so happy to have him back, we almost needed him back.

That was before we knew why he came.

We had been hearing for a while that he was playing to attack me. None of us believed that, he seemed too innocent. Then one day a letter come for him from his boss. He read it and paled and ran off and talked to some fairies. The fairies came to me as I had asked him to but shook their head and kept saying things like, "He is much too weak in the heart to do this.", "He won't do it, he loves all of you too much."

All of us were too scared and worried to realize he had walked back into his room and had shut the door. It was cold that summer, and I think this would be why. His twin brother had found the letter and read it. He ran back almost crying trying to choke it out. Finally he shook his head and cried. We were bewildered and was trying to calm him down the best we could.

That night, I fell asleep as normal. The moon was high in the sky and shone through my window. At some time in the night I heard my door open as it used to when the twins were small.

Except this time, the footsteps were trying to be quite.

Except this time, I smelled iron and blood.

I saw his shadow over mine and waited for him to strike.

It never came.

I opened my eyes and saw him over me, trembling. Tears poured out of his closed eyes and his beautiful mouth kept making the shapes of, "Please forgive me, my dear brother."

I was raging. I had taught him how to fight and how to be heartless, but it seemed to me he didn't know. I sat up and took the knife into my hands while keeping his gripped on the knife, "Bráthair," I said in Irish Gaelic, "Tá mé riamh mhúin tú conas chun troid?"

His eyes snapped open and he gapped like a fish. I put the blade to my neck and smirked as I felt it cut through the tussue like butter. At least he had kept the blade sharp.

"You put the blade here, remember?" I moved his knife and pressed a little, slightly in shook that my own blood already covered the bright silver blade. His blood rushed out upon the knife and ran down onto my hand. "Yes, just like I taught you."

He let out a low whimper and finally closed his eyes, almost like he was ready to die.

"What did that letter say? Your twin read it and it upset him." I put the knife- now that I was more awake it was actually a dagger but whatever.

He swallowed, "My boss... he..." he began to tremble, "He told me to come and kill you. Thats why I've been away so long- I've tried to talk him out of it. But- he said you had d-die... and I don't want my big brother to die!" He began to openly sob, trying to make me believe he didn't. I felt my heart twist in ways I never remember.

"We aren't brothers." I said quietly. "We were just all boys who needed each other."

His big green eyes look up at me.

Then I woke up.

I gripped my head, it pounding from a massive hang over. I shook the memory from my head gently as I got up and reached over for some pain pills when I realized where I was.

I was at his place. England's place.

He had a cup of hot coffee and a shot of whiskey beside it along with the pain pills and left a note. I swung my legs over after I had taken the pills and read,

"Scotland,

You showed up at my house with France, Prussia and Spain in tow. The other three are in the other guest rooms- guess I am glad I expanded the place when I did. I didn't know if you liked your coffee like Ireland and his little brother does** so I left it black with a shot next to it as you can see. Cream and sugar are were they always have been.

I called your office and said you might not be in at all. They didn't sound happy but I said you had a virus. So if you do go in, do try to look sick.

England."

I smiled as I swallowed and laid back down, hearing groans coming from the other rooms.

As much as England hates France, he still won't leave him alone in the cold. It was actually mostly an act now- their hatred. Except when France would grab him

or something just as stupid.

I kept laying there until I heard Prussia scream at the top of his lungs when he woke up. I got out my mobile and dailed Germany.

"Ja." Was my hello. When I told him that the three was at England's house he sighed and said something in German that sounded like heavy cussing and said he would take them home. I thanked him and grabbed the pill bottle and got out six pills and walked into the hall to Prussia cussing like no tomorrow, France under a blanket, and Spain must still be in his room.

"Pills." I said, Prussia and France jerked up at this and ran to me and grabbed them and swallowed them dry while I opened Spain's door to see him still asleep. I laid the pills on the night stand. My hangover head ache was beginning to dissappear.

"Man, what the hell did we drink? It was awesome!" I heard Prussia ask. As I turned to answer him, France was hitting him with the hair brush that he kept in pocket. Heaven forbid his hair get one piece out of place!

"What do you mean, awesome? I hate you!" France cried as he then attacket Prussia and they began to exchange blows. Of course, I could have stopped him but where is the fun in that?

I heard a knock on the door and went to open it finding an angry German. He side stepped me and walked in the house. He grabbed Prussia and France by the cuff of their collars, and turned toward me.

"Where's Spain?"

"Still asleep."

"Wake him." He walked out of England's house dragging the other two. Prussia was still tryin to spit in France's face when Germany threw them into his bumble bee car lookin thing. I went and grabbed a pot and a metal spoon. I closed Spain's door and stood over him and hit the spoon against the pot as hard as I could.

I was suprised that our ears didn't bleed. Spain shot up cluching his head. I took the pills and handed them to him and went and put up the pot and spoon while saying, "Germany is here to take you guys back." over my shoulder.

After they had left, which actually took a while because Spain didn't want to get up until Germany and I dragged him out, I just walked around. I was contented because I didn't have to go to work. I picked up England's note again and realized that he didn't call me brother.

And it didn't suprise me. Ever since that day he never called me brother. I couldn't blame him, I probably gave him a panic attack. I walked around his house- which was bigger than what we all lived in- and found the right room. I opened the heavy solid oak door into a time warp.

Everything England had ever thought it was right to keep was in this room. It was had things from the Celts, Romans, even from France. I walked through to the back where the Celt things were kept. I smiled a sad, bitter smile. Back when we were brothers. I saw a little wood chest that Ireland had made him on a shelf. On the top was designs of England Celts, the sides were Welish designs, the front Scottish and the back was Irish. I opened it slowly, I didn't want anything to fall apart.

In it was paper.

I took out then paper, and saw old bag pipes. I took them out carefully and smiled again, remembering the trying to teach him how to play the instrument. It used more air then he seemed to be able to produce. It was actually cute, seeing his face red. He tried so hard to please me...

I laid it down on the paper. I took then next thing out. It was a kilt, I had it made just for him. It was white and red to match his flag and was made of wool to keep him warm. I had given it for a Christmas present one year after overhearing him say how much he liked mine.

I laid it ontop of the bag pipes and reached in, not looking. I hissed as I cut my hand open on something. I pulled it out.

My eyes opened in shock and my heart started to pound...

No...

It was the dagger. Blood still caked on the blade.

I swallowed the bile raising in my thoat and my body shook. It had a note tied around it.

'Never forget that we were never brothers, but that we shall not kill one another.'

For the first time in years, I broke down crying.


So... I'm not really sure what this is. I think that Scotland would have dreams back before England invaded him. Which I also think is England's government, not him.
Also, Scotland would have been an evil older brother, but he would have his moments when he was really nice and loved all his 'brothers'. Also, I think they have moments when they act like brothers, but they aren't actually related. They act, talk and do what brothers do because they are so close. But when I think about it (here goes complacated part, you either sit there and hate my guts for thinking this or go, 'she might be on to something.' or not know what I'm talkin bout at all) England and Wales ARE brothers- twins actually. Ireland and Northern Ireland are BROTHERS. Scotland doesn't have any brothers, but thinks of the four as brothers. And they all think of Scotland like their brother. Which also has me thinking of who would be oldest and who would be youngest and so on and so forth. :D

Order (oldest to youngest)
Scotland
Ireland (Roughly the same age, but Scotland was bigger so he got put in charge)
England/Wales (Twins)
Northern Ireland (Ireland's long lost brother)

Translation time!

Bráthair, tá mé riamh mhúin tú conas chun troid? - Brother, have I never taught you how to fight?

**Ireland's little brother is Northern Ireland. :D

Comment, have fun reading this... blah blah blah... :D