Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sorry to everyone who wishes I did. :] (cause don't I just make everything better? Wahahaha) Also… Not sure how far I'm gonna go with this one. I have some other ideas I want to run with at the moment. Tell me what you think~

He slammed the door open and ran into the front yard. Arthur ran after him, yelling various, obscene things.

"Alfred, you great oaf, wait!" It came out rather breathlessly; possibly do to the sudden, intense run they were both in the middle of.

"Are you kidding me? I come all this way only to have you drag that back up to throw in my face?" Alfred grimaced over his shoulder, still jogging easily. "Why the hell can't we just get along?" His feet made crunching noises as they met the gravel of the drive.

"How the hell do you expect us to? We're much too different!" Arthur argued, miraculously keeping pace.

"Friends don't have to be the same." Alfred said sadly, finally coming to a stop near the end of the ridiculously long drive as it petered out into deep, green woods. "We don't always have to agree to be friends."

Arthur froze mid step and stared curiously at the pursued. Alfred's face was contorted into a mournful expression, hands dangling lifelessly at his sides. Just minutes earlier, in the middle of their discussion he had suddenly jumped up and bolted from the kitchen telling Arthur where to shove it and why did it always have to end up like this?

"I don't always want to fight with you. Seriously, why can't we just hang out and I dunno, play cards or write poetry or something?"

Arthur stifled a snort at the suggestions and smiled. "Alfred. You want to write poetry?" he couldn't imagine the boy's attention span lasting long enough to name a poem, much less write one.

Alfred shrugged, still looking desperate. "Anything but getting yelled at by you. I'm sick of it."

Arthur frowned. Did he yell that much? "Alfred I don't always yell at you." He crossed his arms in what he hoped was a domineering fashion. It wasn't like him to be so taken aback by something; he'd been fearless not two centuries ago. Where had his pirate attitude and flippant nature gone?

"You do." Alfred shook his head slowly. "That's all you do. Yell at me, get mad, act annoyed. The list goes on and on. Should I continue?"

Arthur felt his face flushing in anger. How… how could he think that? "I- I can't believe you would dare say that to me." He clenched his hands. Didn't Alfred remember all the times he'd come home and read bedtime stories, or made him dinner, or showed him stolen treasures? "You can just sod off until you learn to- to read the atmosphere better than a child!" If he had stopped to think he would have realized that it was in fact he who was acting the part of child but that concept was far past recognition for his overheated brain.

The hurt look on Alfred's face was enough to instantly make Arthur regret his harsh words however. Really, he hadn't meant it truly. Alfred may be a little dense once in a while but Arthur knew he wasn't the completely daft fool everyone took him for. 'A genius always presents himself as a fool', Alfred had once quoted to him.

"Alfred, I-" Arthur was cut off in his apology as a particularly large truck swerved across the far lane and smack into Alfred at at least seventy miles an hour. Arthur stood there, mouth agape, approximately six seconds before he ran forward towards the crumpled form that was Alfred.

"Alfred! Alfred, oh my dear lord! Oh god, Alfred! Alfred!" He fell down beside the unconscious form and tentatively placed a hand on his chest. After a few heart pounding seconds he breathed a sigh of relief as he felt a slight rise and fall under his hand. What would he have done if Alfred hadn't been breathing? How could he have lived with himself if the last thing he'd ever said to this dear creature was something so against how he really felt? He smiled blindingly, high on the feeling of joy from the knowledge that Alfred was alive to continue to annoy the daylights out of him every other day.

"Uhm, dude, what're you doing?"

The voice startled Arthur back into the present and he glanced down to meet confused, wide, blue eyes.

"Oh, Alfred! You're awake already! Good heavens, I thought you'd be out cold for at least 10 minutes!" He exclaimed in surprise.

"Uhm, like I said, what're you doing?" Alfred asked in a puzzled voice, gazing up uncertainly. "And do you think maybe you could get your hand off my chest? Who are you anyway?"

Arthur's hand flashed back to his side in a second, his face acquiring what could be considered quite an adorable blush; however, this last connotation only pertained to those who knew him and unfortunately, if appeared as though Alfred no longer did.

"Wwwha-what do you mean 'what am I doing'?" Arthur stuttered. "Of course I'm bloody checking to see if there's still life in this idiotic body of yours!" He growled angrily before standing up and brushing the knees of his pants off. "What the hell did you think I was doing?"

"Well, gee, I dunno. Coulda been anything; there's lots of old perverts out there nowadays you know." Alfred countered, standing as well.

Arthur was lost for words and so, stood, mouthing nonsensical words for a moment, staring at Alfred in shock. What in the holy hell did that mean? A pervert? Him? How could Alfred make such accusations?

"Hey, I'm just trying to preserve my virginity, you know what I mean?" Alfred paused for a moment, rubbing a hand across his chin in thought. "Well, I suppose I'm still a virgin? I guess I don't really know seeing as I can't remember anything." He turned to stare expectantly back at the still stunned-silent Arthur.

"You don't… know who you are? You don't know who I am?" he asked astounded. How in the world was that possible?

"If I knew who I was would I be questioning my own virginity?" Alfred joked with a smile.

Still as vulgar and stupid as he always was; but that mean that his memories were just locked away right? There had to be a way to get them back. It was imperative. Arthur cringed at the idea of having to explain the last 200 some years to Alfred. No doubt it would be painful and possibly bloody knowing how Alfred liked to delegate…

He was cut short in his musings by the image of Alfred wandering cheerfully down the street away from the house.

"Hold it!" Arthur yelled at the top of his lungs. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh, towards town?"

"Oh no you don't. If you get away now I'll never hear the end of it!" And with that Arthur ran forward and grabbed his collar.

"You are a pedo-rapist! I knew it!" Alfred cried while struggling.

"I most certainly am not." Arthur huffed, dragging the wiggling load back to the house. "And even if I was a pedophile it most certainly would not count for you. You are over 200 years old for God's sake."

This statement seemed to silence the former country and he remained complacent all the way through the still open doorway. Once inside however, he threw his weight to the left and broke free, hopping a few feet away and leaning against the Victorian era decorated wall. Arthur lay where he'd been tossed, much like a bag of potatoes. From here it was quite easy to see the fine cherry wood flooring that he's had installed 78 years ago; jeez, had it really been that long already?

"Over 200 years?" Alfred asked eyes wide. "So you're not only a rapist, but you're crazy and delusional too? Oh man, I just hit the jackpot." He sighed, running a hand over his face and peering out between two fingers. "You're not serious are you? I mean, tell me you're kidding."

Arthur sat up, crossing his legs and arms. "I find it entirely disappointing and irritating to have to inform you that I am, in fact, not kidding in the least. You are over 200 years old. I would think I would know; I'm the one who raised you." He paused for a response, which came in the form of Alfred sliding down the wall to slump on the floor at Arthur's feet.

"And now you're my dad. Great."

Arthur bristled at the statement. So Alfred thought that he wouldn't be a good father? "I'll have you know that I wasn't your father, as detrimental as having a father figure seems to have been. I was your brother."

Alfred raised his head to stare in disbelief at the man in front of him. "You?" He croaked. "Oh good fucking lord," and dropped his head back onto the floor with a resounding clunk.

When his hand came up and started to doodle on the grain surface Arthur glared at the back of the prick's head. What the hell was he supposed to do now? This idiot had had his memories smashed out of him by a semi-truck. Not to mention the mystery of the whole situation. Since when could countries be damaged by such meager forces? Arthur had seen Alfred take much worse directly to the face in the last few wars and still just jump up raring to go. How had a measly semi-truck done this much damage?

Although, thinking on it logically now, his earlier panic had been extremely silly. He groaned silently; what had he been thinking reacting so embarrassingly?

"You honestly don't remember anything?" He asked leaning down over Alfred's prone figure.

"If I knew would I still be laying on your floor?" Came the muffled response. Alfred raised his head. "Look dude, as soon as I-" he broke off, staring at Arthur.

"What?" The former asked irritatedly.

The question seemed to break the strange atmosphere and Alfred scoffed, looking away. "Nothing. Just thought for a second you looked kinda nice…"

"What in the bloody hell does that mean?"

"Seemed for a second like you actually cared is all." Alfred muttered, turning away. "You didn't yell for once."

Arthur froze; hadn't Alfred been saying something like that before? Something about him yelling too much… what had he been talking about? Since when did they ever get along? Why did he suddenly want them to be friends?

"Do you think I yell a lot?" He asked earnestly, sticking his face in the others. "Does it bother you?"

Alfred stared, wide eyed, before blushing and shoving Arthur lightly away. Though no longer in the loop of knowing he was a country Alfred still undoubtedly had his former strength. Arthur rubbed his shoulder where it had hit the wall; there was no way it wasn't leaving a slight bruise. He smiled ruefully, maybe that would convince Alfred.

"I can't say as to whether you yell all the time or not seeing as I've never met you before, but I'd have to say yes. You yell way too much."

Arthur's mouth dropped open.