As the Winter to Foul Weather, a hetalia - axis powers fanfic

Title: As the Winter to Foul Weather

Summary: America tries his best to keep something from England. It doesn't work. Based on current events.

Disclaimer: I am merely playing with paper dolls. Enjoy my fun.

Note: I mostly wrote this to work out some of my headcanons a year ago. In light of the weather in the UK today I thought I should clean it up and post it. I won't lie – it's a rush job and an odd piece.

The day started out like any other world conference. Chaos in motion. A study in just how many people could argue with each other at once. Canada could not understand how things could deteriorate so rapidly. The conference had just opened. He was actually able to convene the process and welcome in the new year of 2012. Then someone had said something to someone and then everything went to seed.

With a sigh he dipped his head and tried to block out the noise. There wasn't even anything on the docket for them to argue about – that was the point of this beginning-of-the-year event – to set the bill for what they would discuss in the following months. Everyone knew that. It was always the same process and normally they would just stick to the same proposal they had the year before. Come to think of it that initial proposal had been recycled so many times that they might as well not have this meeting anymore. Hard to believe that a yearly plan from 1946 could dictate even today's actions. Still, every year they had the same stupid meeting and got nothing accomplished.

A quick glance to the far side of the table was all that he needed to know that there would be no point in joining in now. Germany was about to blow and they still had a full weekend of this nonsense. Someone along the line must have thought that if they locked all the nations in a room for a long time something would get done. No matter – the only thing that would be different about tomorrow is that it wouldn't be Friday the 13th so France would be more ostentatious then he was today and America would probably hijack the opening statements like he usually does.

And there it is – the call for lunch. America was quick to approach Canada during the break.

"Mattie, there are no Mickey D's around this convention center! Why did you have to pick here. I'm dying bro," said America.

Ignoring the other, Canada looked over to France and England trying to discern if either of them would be interested in a sandwich at his house down the road. Sure it was always a stretch getting either of them to come but it would be nice. If they didn't France would just complain about the lack of decent food in the area and England would just sit and fume all day long by himself returning to the meeting even more cross then he was now.

"Mattie~ Hello. Are you in there?" America waved his fingers in front of Canada's face breaking his eye contact with the arguing nations.

"I was thinking we could eat at my house," said Canada. "The lunch breaks are always longer when we are booked here because people actually have to try and find food. Are you in?"

"Duh! We can have a smorgasbord of awesome with hamburgers and your pancakes and stuff. Let's go!"

Before America could drag Canada out the door France and England bowled into them. Fortunately Canada was able to pry them off of each other (because those suits were expensive) and everyone was herded into America's car.

Normalcy at its finest.

Needless to say they were late returning to the conference. Germany was in command as ever but it didn't stop him from getting into the quartet's faces as they walked in. Russia was then free to bring up traveling and security to France, which, on a day like today, was highly provoking. They were all right back to where they started.

And so it goes. For the whole weekend. An unbroken pattern of events. Canada was right; America did wind up taking his speaking time for the rest of the conference. Or at least until the afternoon on the 15th.

It was only a little event but for a guy like Canada it was a big deal. A pattern changing deal. The kind of thing that really doesn't happen often kind of deal.

Now, as a nation, being in contact with whoever needs to contact you is really, really important. Therefore, all nations have top of the line mobile telephones to keep them constantly up-to-date with the latest information.

It was an ongoing joke to see who could catch whom with the ringtone on during a meeting. It usually led to high level of embarrassment – especially if the device in question had been, shall we say, tampered with beforehand. Oddly enough, Japan was notorious for swiping peoples phones and changing the ringtones. It was probably some poorly repressed ninja itch that he just needed to scratch. Still, Japan – although the usual culprit – had yet to be caught outright even though most everyone knew it was him. America on the other hand, was only ok at pulling off the change unnoticed. The idiot nearly got killed rigging England's ringtone to Darth Vader's March in preparation for Episode III during a budget meeting. It was not a pretty sight.

Risks aside it doesn't stop nations from bringing their phones everywhere. Long meetings are a perfect time for some app research after all. Needless to say it wasn't that unusual to see America on his iPhone at this point during the meeting, throwing in his constant two cents at every dead end conversation and frequently adding fuel to several almost put out fires all across the room. Still, it wasn't hard for Canada, who didn't feel like dealing with anyone that day, to notice when America got text, then email.

Normally it wouldn't be odd but for the slight widening of eyes – the controlled but too rushed to be simple perusal switch to email. A catch of the breath, the quick look around to see if anyone else was paying attention (they weren't really, all too absorbed in their petty squabbles unlike Canada). Knowing America for so long it was easy to tell something was up. He had is poker face on now. A much more forced mask then the one he normally used during the meetings.

Whatever it was, it was big.

Something made him really concerned – and by the looks of it, it involved England too. Too many glances were fired in that direction, especially after the immediate reaction…it had to related England in some way. But what? Canada was left to puzzle over the situation.

It should have been clear to Canada that he was zoning out at his brother when their eyes locked. America knew that Canada knew something was afoot and Canada knew that America knew that he knew that too. The clear nonverbal context was simple; "Tell you later" it screamed.

The exchange was so fast that no one outside of the two noticed. Or they would not have if America hadn't been totally tuning out the "meeting" at that point and missed his chance to weigh in on the schedule updates that they were being proposed (or rather the schedule that they were proposing to keep).

"America, you have yet to vote on the proposed changes to the meeting schedule," Germany growled.

"Huh?" said America. "Oh. Yeah…whatever. Just stick with whatever we normally do."

Canada rolled his eyes. Whatever America got notified about was big enough to totally blow off a chance to speak was pretty big. The silence was quite nice actually. No one could quite believe how noncommittal America was being. So much for the poker face – you could tell just by looking at him that he was thinking hard about something and it clearly wasn't the meeting. Canada could tell that Russia was two steps away from becoming confrontational. America had better think of something to diffuse the tension or the meeting would last another four hours.

"Dudes," America stated without really looking up from his phone. "Did you know that they are going to release the Super Bowl commercials early and stuff? Isn't that totally epic." As America prattled on about "the greatest game ever" any concern anyone seemed to have melted off.

Of course it was a distraction only worthy of stupidity that had America so captivated. A good save, but Canada knew America had known that fact since before Christmas at least…said he didn't want to tell anyone so that they could see the awesome officially on game day or something like that. Not that Canada would say anything to contradict the chosen excuse. No, it would just be more leverage for finding out what was going down on the sly.

The meeting ended with much exasperation and eagerness to go home. England in particular seemed excited to leave. He'd been prickly the whole meeting but America seemed to be chatting him up just fine as the pair of them left leaving Canada alone. That was all right. America would tell Canada what was going on in due time. For now Canada would let him have his alone time with England.

America was an island in a torrent of emotion.

Or, that's how he believed himself to be when he spent the latter part of the meeting trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do about England. His England was in for a trying time if the text and then more explanatory email he received from one of his very trusted sources on England's side of the Atlantic. Heck, this could be devastating if not played out carefully. England's…magic…was a powerful thing – temperamental at the best of times and uncontrollable at the worst of times and no one wants to be on the receiving end of that.

Fortunately, he could count on Canada for not ratting him out to everyone. Still, that was a conversation he did not look forward too. But it would be helpful to have another nation on his side.

He would really have to play this one safe. They could not afford a repeat of last time. Goodness no. That would be awful in every sense of the word. No. He had to do this flawlessly and if that meant that he'd be England's lead pony for the foreseeable future then that was fine by him.

He'd really have to think quickly.

4:00PM would come too fast to do much of anything up to the necessary precautions but at the very least he could divert attention for the time being. No sweat – play it cool. Plot on the side. He just had to keep England away from the-thing-England-must-not-see as long as possible. He'd have to call in a few favors.

America and England were finally able to break away from everyone leaving by taking the stairs. England had no desire to be stuck in a crammed elevator with France of all people and frankly it was the most expedient exit point. (Especially considering that the last time they had a France-in-the-elevator incident everyone was stuck in the bloody contraption for three hours before the rescue crews could pry the doors open to get them all out.) It had been horrible. But now it was just England and America driving across the border after a long, utterly pointless conference. Neither mentioned the American's odd behavior at the end of the madness.

They traded verbal spars for the duration of the ride – mainly about the music on the radio and not much of anything important. It was nice to be just them…it didn't happen all too often but when it did, it was a wonderful thing.

"Alfred, I thought we were going your house in Vermont, not the flat in New York City. You've just missed your exit. I understand why you would want to drive on your half of the line to get there but really. Where are you going?"

"Sorry Arthur, but I gotta do some stuff before we get outta town and all. I tried to finish it all up before you got here but Mattie wanted me to pick you up at the air port." He gave England's hand a squeeze before fishing his wallet out for yet another toll bridge. America caught England's grimace in his mirror but it was quickly hidden.

Clearly England was planning a late night escapade to catch the-thing-England-must-not-see that he was about to miss by being in the car with America but because they would be in New York there was no way he could get away with that now. Not only would the traffic put them well a live viewing of the-thing-England-must-not-see but then there was dinner to consider and between that and everything else there would be no way for England to manage to slip away from America to watch the-thing-England-must-not-see. Instead, America would be puttering about all night long – one of the biggest problems with big cities and their active nightlife scene. No, England wouldn't be getting away with anything tonight.

England narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the clock. Every bone screamed that he was missing something big and even with America's presence, he couldn't help but feel distracted. There was no way America could know what plagues him. The current predicament was a simple enough issue and happened before.

It was so like America to drop trowel early to come and pick him up. And only America would be the one to want to stay up all night long watching him sleep. Creep. Oh well. Sweet in a weird way. And America's place in New York City was nice.

Parking was hell but America was an expert at this sort of thing and before long they were lugging England's bags into America's foyer. As they hit the ground with a thunk both broke out into matching broad grins. Regardless of where you are, home is where your heart is.

England puttered to the main living space to turn on some old jazz while America started on England's laundry. America frowned at the music selection. It meant that England was nostalgia tripping in a very bad way. The melancholy notes filled the apartment and America was hard pressed to decide if England's put upon air was a result of the downer vibes or of an imperceptible shift with England's connection to his people. Either way America hated to see England all mopey like that. He's so good at hiding it too. America's life had to be one of constant vigilance.

It wasn't too long before England popped his head into the laundry space.

"I can start on dinner if you want to start on your work. Best not to delay too long tomorrow – you know what happened last time."

Last time…America hoped that this wouldn't turn out like the last time they were in New York City. No sleep for a week did not help anything at all. It was frustrating and led them to a new personal rule of no big cities for more then three consecutive days for him. (England can sleep through anything including any of his nightlife. Something about focus but whatever.) America shuddered. So maybe it wasn't the best plan to pretend to have work to do but at least England would be kept away from the-thing-England-must-not-see for the evening and that was most critical at this point.

"If you wouldn't mind, sure," said America. "Work shouldn't take me too long I hope. If you need any help just remember I'm closer then the fire department so don't hesitate to ask." America sauntered off to the office before England could retort.

Dinner shouldn't be that bad really. America had grown up with England's cooking and it really didn't suck all that much – just as long as it didn't catch fire you were usually good. Besides, America knew that there were only two obvious things that England could cook in the flat right now, curry and fish'n'chips, neither of which he could screw up. The biggest down side to the current situation was "working" long enough to convince England that this trip was worth it for the reasons he provided, not the super secret mission that it actually was. America took his time booting up the computer and thinking about his master plan of keeping England away from the Internet and the-thing-England-must-not-see for the foreseeable future. Maybe a quick chat with Canada was in order.

Sure enough there were quite a few emails from Canada along with the original one from his informant. America spent the next few hours filling in his brother-in-arms and swapping plans around. At the end of it all he felt much more confident in the coming days ahead and hoped that all would turn out all right. It may have been a Sunday but after a few more emails and calling in a few favors for some well timed distractions, America was just about ready for dinner when the fire alarm chirped to life.

As if a zombie were on his heels, America barged through the flat to the kitchen. The microwave was on fire.

Pull. Aim. Squeeze. Sweep. The fire was out. America turned to see a stunned England holding a casserole dish.

"I didn't even touch the microwave," England mumbled dumbfounded.

With that information in mind America once again sprung into action ensuring that the oven and stove were off (they weren't) and generally giving the kitchen a once over.

"I swear I didn't," England said.

"And I believe you," America said with a small smile. They were heading into dangerous territory again. With England's emotional state on a fine trigger (not that England knew that it was) America figured he'd let the whole situation slide with as little fanfare as possible. "It was an old piece of crap anyway and I needed a new one. Probably just an electrical malfunction or something."

"But - "

"Hey, is that my awesome dinner?"

"Yours is on the table dear. This is just the last one."

"Well let's dig in then!"

Kitchen mostly forgotten by both parties, dinner was rather nice. Of course it looked like the average person's Thanksgiving spread. There were multiple curry dishes all around the table – they were all of the same thing but America could eat like a horse so all of the bulk food was required. England always appreciated how America let him serve up first. He was usually able to get as much as he wanted. Sure each serving dish contained something a bit different then the next but America ate it all up only pausing at the end to make sure that England didn't want the last bit.

They horsed around during clean up resulting in England showering to get the soap out of his hair. This left America time to check up on his plans and figure out the best way to get England to fall asleep early tonight.

America plotted as he fluffed the laundry.

The city inside of him was slowly coming alive, sure there was the after dinner lull in functioning as his food digested but there was no doubt – the lights of the town were coming on and he was waking up. In short, he needed something of a distraction that England would fall asleep to and would keep his interest. Sounds like a cry for an action movie with a predictable plot.

By this point England had come in and pushed America out so he could begin folding his laundry in his holier-then-thou/years-of-practice way. Seriously, the man could fold better then a department store and he found some sort of pleasure doing it too.

Off topic.

Movies – what to choose….there was the ever-present villain problem to deal with. No English villains to be sure – he was already messing with the itinerary and that was playing with fire a bit to much as it was. But the "work" was done so he was in the clear. America made to get hot water ready for their movie. England, now pajama clad, finished the process off with a tea and a hot chocolate.

The movie was everything America needed it to be. A nondescript, B-grade shoot-em-up nothing that he could get a kick out of partly for the old school Hollywoodland flare and partly for the large crop of extras having a great time. For anyone other then him, it would have been boring as hell but England armed with his tea said nothing to the selection. He'd never seen it before so there was no reason to judge before he'd seen it. And there was no reason to doubt America's choice in selection (if only he knew).

England was asleep within the half hour. Score.

It was a simple task for America to carry in England to the bedroom after the movie was over. He barely stirred as America placed the covers over them both and snuggled in. Sure he had the nightlife buzz about him but watching England sleep was enough of a mental exercise for him to be able to sit still and cuddled up. Hours came and went with only a passing glance. America watched, not thinking much of anything and England slept with only brief whimpers throughout the night. America couldn't help but check the weather and be aghast at the dire predictions. He'd hoped it was shifting a bit, but temperature stats didn't lie. The weather in England was crappier then normal; England was really upset about missing the-thing-England-must-not-see.

America cursed his luck when he realized that he had forgotten to shut the blinds – the sunrise was nice to watch but he didn't want England to wake up early…the longer he slept the less time America had to figure out how to play keep away with the-thing-England-must-not-see.

England was great to watch wake up. It was a slow process but seeing him blearily smile up at America made the long night worth it. They had a whole long while to be together with no work. Save for America's caution about certain events that had transpired yesterday, all was right with the world.

"Were you up all night?" England asked.

"Yeah. But it wasn't so bad," America responded. He shifted the still sleepy England closer in his arms and nuzzled into his hair. If he played his cards right there would be some grade-a happy morning times coming down the pike. England didn't rise to take the bait though. Instead he burrowed back into his pillow and fell into a light dose. It was so unlike him that America let him be. Time zones and nations went hand-in-hand so normally England was up early in the morning when he was on this side of the Atlantic. Over time most nations became somewhat desensitized to it (particularly the former empires with vast global holdings) but it always gave them ample reason to keep meetings short. The odd behavior was just more fuel to America's fire to keep England's mind off of the-thing-England-must-not-see. No repeats of the past. No problems.

Now that the sun was up America felt the need to get up and be active. He stayed put though. England was crafty and he could easily be waiting for America to leave so he could watch the-thing-England-must-not-see. No, America was staying put and then they could shower together and eat breakfast together and head to Vermont together. Once they got there, he would be temporarily in the clear.

Although England was aware that the Vermont cabin didn't have cable (only a TV for movies), England had no idea that some of America's work yesterday went into insuring that mobile devices did not work in the area so there was no way England could stream the-thing-England-must-not-see or get a download from someplace. Not only that but the rest of his plan would engage as well. He and both his crew here and the crew across the pond had managed to hack England's phone and computer so that he could not access certain sites. America wasn't too worried about the computer though. It was a general rule the couple had enforced – no work during vacation.

The rest of January 16th did not go so bad. Just as America had planned, they did everything together. After lunch the car was packed back up and the pair set out for America's Vermont cabin. England failed to notice America taking every back road known to mankind on the way there. It was a stroke of luck that made their journey last hours longer then intended. America thought it was well worth the wasted gas if he could keep England sufficiently away from the-thing-England-must-not-see. America even managed to persuade his travelling companion that they should go out to eat.

The duo arrived at the small log cabin well after dark, made a small show of getting the woodstove up and running, then retired early for the evening. That last bit was at England's insistence. A zombie sleep-deprived America, even if it was only a day out of rest, was not a fully functioning America so to bed they had to go. All and all it was a successful day.

January 17th was not so lucky.

"Alfred! Where the bloody hell is my mobile," shouted England from the bedroom.

"I dunno," said America from the living room couch. "Did you leave it in New York?" Because wouldn't that be absolutely stellar for the sake of his plan.

"No I remembered it. I know I did."

"You sure?"

"Just come off it and help me look you lazy bum."

England searched the bedroom and America searched the bathroom. Not that America expected to find the phone in the bathroom but he needed to put on a show of looking without really looking. He'd kick himself in the pants if he were the one to find the lost phone because that would really go against everything he was planning. But if he didn't help, England would get mad at him. So he thoroughly checked the bathroom – all the way to the back of the medicine cabinet even. (That investigation surprisingly brought up some early versions of cough syrup old enough to be a cherished museum object. Looks like the Smithsonian is getting another random anonymous donation in the near future.)

After his bathroom investigation America went to check on England in the bedroom.

It was a disaster.

Clothes were strewn everywhere. Drawers were pulled out of their slots with contents dumped on the nearest available flat surface. England was riffling around under the bed with only his left foot peaking out. He was wearing cute socks today. Blue with gold stars. They were one of America's favorite pairs. Nearly all of England's (and America's and Canada's) knitted-wear was made by England. Although the nation in question rarely wore his zany socks, they always made an appearance when on vacation or relaxing at home. Honestly, whatever England decided to knit was always very high quality that lasted much longer then anything store bought – for a nation this was a godsend. America would put up with the boring argyle stuff if he got something cool to go along with it. He was the champion at not-so-ugly ugly sweater competitions.

"Need a little help there Artie?" America said.

"Blast it!" said England when he clocked his head against the underside of the bed. "What have I said about calling me that!" The response was muffled and made America chuckle a bit. Sometimes England could be like an angry kitten. (And other times he was a lion looking to chew your head off.)

"Seriously. If you stop squirming I can grab your foot and slide you out. Easy peasy."

There was a dramatic pause as the indignity of the option was considered and measured against the throbbing of the back of England's head. The phone wasn't under the bed so he had to get out one way or another.

"Fine."

"Ok. Keep as flat to the ground as possible. You'll be out in a jiff."

England's response was nothing more then a long suffering sigh. America moved from his position by the door and crouched down by the side of the bed where the foot in question was located. He placed one hand around the ankle and the other a bit further up on the calf and gave a pull. Now England was half way out. Without stopping too long to admire the lovely clothed rear poking out from the bed, America grabbed at his waistline and pulled again. England was now free from the bed, covered in dust and looking clearly put out.

"Tada!" said America. England just rolled over, sat up and shot him a glare. America was glad he hadn't tried anything because England wasn't handling the indignity too well.

"Your phone is not in the bathroom," said America hoping to diffuse the situation.

"Why would you think it would be in the bathroom?"

"It's where I would leave my phone."

"I wonder about you sometimes."

England rose and together they dusted him off and moved out into the living room-kitchen combination. England looked by the couch and America took the kitchen. Inside, America was gleeful that they had nearly covered the entire building with no phone found. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. No phone meant England was forced to stay away from the-thing-England-must-not-see and America would not have to potentially be caught in a tight spot.

But it wasn't to last. With a mighty cry England found his phone in his coat pocket. The victory was short lived when it was discovered that the cell reception was gone. America got chewed out for that even if he swore he had no idea they weren't in service. (That was not true in the slightest but even heroes sometimes have to lie to protect their loved ones.) It still hurt that England gave him a cold shoulder all day as a result. Instead of talking or playing board games or reading together, England took a long bath and then put his headphones on while he knitted. America was so depressed at the poor turn of events he stress cleaned the bedroom spotless and then went out to shoot some squirrels.

He caught three of the furry pests.

Like any good hunter he painstakingly skinned them and picked out the useful bits. For whatever reason living in his older places always made him yearn for old recipes. He could easily add his catch to the mince pies they were going to have for dinner to jazz it up a bit. Plus he could work the skins into gloves later in their trip or something. Even with the morose air inside the cabin, America couldn't help but be uplifted by his retreat into the not-so-wild wilds. It was a good sort of nostalgia.

England was still ignoring him when he came back inside to start dinner. Fortunately as he worked at the kitchen counter to prepare dinner his back was to England so he could at least pretend that the tension wasn't present and he wasn't being ignored.

England came to the table without prompting when the food was done. He seemed a bit calmer so America felt now was the time to address the situation.

"Look," America said. "I know you are upset about being out of cell range but we're on vacation together. It will be nice to be free from the world for a while. Don't you think?"

"I suppose you are right. We should be thankful for the time we have together. Besides, Matthew knows where we are. If there is trouble, he can drop us a line."

"That's the spirit! C'mon, try the food. I added something extra special."

They munched in comfortable silence for a bit.

"It's squirrel," England said out of the blue.

"Aww. How'd you guess!"

"I never forget a flavor. Besides, it fits the cabin air."

"See. I knew you liked it out here. We are gonna have a fun-filled vacation full of the best awesomeness with no outside distractions!"

"Yes. No outside distractions," said England. He got a peculiar look in his eyes at that but before America could figure it out fully, it was gone. England was back to his awkwardly happy self.

America was so excited for their adventures together. He was thankful that England could be happy right now, especially because he would be sad later.

The week passed in a flash. England and America had a wonderful vacation together. Their time in the cabin was like a balm in their hectic lifestyle. No one called but they didn't mind. America occasionally caught England checking his phone. He hoped it was out of habit and nothing more. He was sure that the weather in England was back to normal for this time of the year. Things could not be better.

Monday, January 23rd brought a major downturn.

England was distant all day. They had gone to the store for more supplies but America managed to lose England somehow in the process.

As a nation he could tell England was still in the store but he had no idea where.

One minute they had been looking at meats and then next England was gone. America cursed his luck. He always got distracted talking to the butcher and by all of the delicious cuts. He hoped that England had not been away from him for too long.

All and all, America was confident that his plan was still holding together but one could never be too careful. England's phone was corrupted so he couldn't access any BBC site or any other big name place that might have the-thing-England-must-not-see for download. Heck, he even pulled some major strings and ensured that MegaUpload would be dead and gone by this time just in case. It was an unfortunate loss but America felt it was well worth the outrage in order to keep his lover (and his lovers magic) in a non-temperamental state. The world couldn't deal with another England freak-out like what had happened last time this problem occurred. Everyone was counting on America to not screw up and there he goes and loses England.

America found England located in the tea isle. His fists were clenched and he glared righteous fury at the selection. America breathed a sight of relief. Leave it to tea to distract England. Sure he'd have to deal with some angst about his crummy selection of teas at this store but it was better then having an epic blowout over the-thing-England-must-not-see any day of the week.

The pair soon finished up their shopping and returned home. America was none the wiser to England's inner mechanics during the ride.

England couldn't help but feel that something had been amiss their whole vacation. America had been wonderful but it is not hard to tell when someone is trying to hide being worried when you've known them for so long. It had been clear to England all week that America had been hiding something from him. Things just weren't adding up right. Sure the stop at New York was pretty standard for America but having his mobile not work was highly unusual considering that it hadn't been a problem for the pair in years past. Truly it was the store reaction confirmed England's suspicions. America had been positively frantic to find him.

At first England had thought nothing of it when he went to check his phone in the store. Rather, he was on vacation so he didn't bother to check emails but immediately went online to try and download a copy of the episode that he missed. As America nattered on about potato chips, he missed England's initial phone checks. By the time England had established that something was wrong with his phone accessing any UK domain name site, he knew something was awry. It was not hard to ditch America as he gushed about meats with the butcher.

England's first course of action in his newfound freedom was to scope the extent of the problem. He quickly confirmed that he was locked out of all BBC and BBC affiliates no matter what he tried to do to circumvent the block. He was also dismayed to find that MegaUpload was finally dead so he couldn't download there. England knew that he was running out of time so he brushed off some of his little-used computer skills and created a workaround to get to Pirate Bay. He always liked the sound of that and the site had yet to steer him wrong. Scandinavians are quite good at getting what they want when they put their minds to it. If that just happened to be spitting all over copyright laws, then so be it. England was not one to complain in this case.

Over the average din of the store he could hear America discover his absence. He quickly searched for his temptation and began downloading immediately.

The perk of a special government phone like his (or rather one that Japan and America had specially designed for the nations to use) is that it downloads extremely quickly. It was useful for spreading information between all of them. Sure occasionally they would get a massive document full of landscape porn from questionable individuals or other such tomfoolery but on the whole such capabilities helped at world conferences and at other work related things. But this use was a little more personal and a little more close to home then that.

He made sure to stay just out of America's sight until the download was finished.

Perfect.

Now all he had to do was watch snatches when he could during his stay and he'd be all caught up. It was shameful that it had taken him a week to think of going to the store to be back in cell range. He had been having such a good time that the matter was mostly out of his mind.

America's relief at finding England in the tea section was palpable. Yes, thought England in the car, something was horribly wrong and he has no idea what. Still, he got what he came for. Now to find a way to watch without arousing suspicions.

England did not get his chance until Wednesday, January 25th. It was his one glimmer of hope since the store situation. America had nearly been at his side the whole time between now and then but a tree on the property had tipped over. Now he was out chopping the downed thing to bits for their woodstove. As much as England would have loved to admire his particularly fetching specimen's rippling muscles it was still January in Vermont so he pleaded a desire to stay in and read the paper. America was none the wiser – having no idea that the-thing-England-must-not-see had been obtained at the supermarket.

So England set himself up in the bathroom with the paper and more importantly his phone. As he cued up his selection he turned on the bathtub scalding hot and dipped his feet in for extra believability. By the time America was done his feet would be well wrinkled just as if he really had soaked in the tub all day.

England was so busy preparing the bath and rolling up his pants he failed to notice that he missed the opening teaser scene. He tuned in just as the opening titles were rolling. He smiled at his beloved London and settled in to watch the show.

Ah his beloved Sherlock and John come to life once more!

England sat enraptured for nearly a full hour. Unlike others who may mentally grouse on the show as they watch, England had long perfected the art of emptying his mind entirely of any outside or internal influences. There was nothing but him and the program. It was only fair that he give his undivided attention as if all previous Sherlock Holmeses had not existed. He sat, still and emotionless, alone in the bathroom watching intently. He did not laugh at the jokes, or cringe at the mockery of his police force, or use his nation knowledge to figure out why Martin Freeman had shaved legs.

He simply absorbed the show.

He was so fixated he nearly missed the back door bang in indicating America was done with his tree demolishing. Quickly he paused and made to unplug the bathtub drain. Sherlock and John would have to make their escape from police custody on another day.

Despite having only 30 minutes left of programming to watch England did not have the chance to hide out for long periods of time again. He kept on behaving normally but couldn't help but be drawn to the show every time he stopped to think. He caught snatches before heading to bed when America was brushing his teeth and more snatches when he went for a very short walk around the property.

On January 30th, he finally made it to the start roof scene.

It was awful.

He could only view for short few minutes at a time but even then the power of the scene – the deep emotional feeling that this new incarnation brought forth in him was tremendous.

By February 2nd, Moriarty was dead once again but Sherlock was left with his impossible choice. America caught him crying at the end of Sherlock's "note." He brushed it off as some dust in his eyes and tried to go about the day. An idiot could see that he was suffering. But the torment was not over for England yet. He knew that it was his duty, as a fan and as the country, to finish the episode. He would never forgive himself if he didn't.

The stage was set for that evening of the 3rd. He had sequestered his headphones and his phone in an out-of-the-way place in the bedroom. America had been very active all day so he was exhausted. England on the other hand had spend the last 24 hours in agony of the finish that was to come and therefore sitting by America trying to keep it together. He missed most of America's worried gazes when he didn't get much knitting done that day. Sure enough America knocked out fast and in the dead of night England finished the Reichenbach Falls.

He cried for the rest of the night.

Come sunup he was still in the same position he was in when the episode finished, headphones and all.

"Good morning Arthur," America said when he felt awake enough. His fuzzy haze was quickly banished when he noticed the headphones. America's sky crashed and his heard dropped around his feet at the sight of them. "No. No. Please. No." He gingerly removed the nearest ear bud and fumbled for England's phone.

"Arthur, sweetheart, say something," said America. England did not respond. His eyes were just glazed over and his face was still wet with tears.

"God no. Not again," said America. He brought England up to a seated position against his chest but the other was limp like a ragdoll. America quickly picked up England's phone to confirm his worst fears. The downloaded video file was still up and everything. He had failed to protect England from this. And now the country was suffering. Goodness knows what the full ramifications would be this time. What a disaster.

Suddenly everything made sense to America. All of the little quirks of things that England had been doing in the past few days. Why couldn't he have seen it before and managed to stop England? He was a horrible person.

But he couldn't focus on his failure now.

England needed him to be strong.

America tried his best to make sure he didn't start crying too. He hugged England closer to his body and tried to figure out what course of action he could take to try and make it all better.

Last time this particular bomb had gone off England had fallen off of the grid for a decade. No one, not even the nations, could figure out where England had gone but the country itself was rocked with horrific weather. (Most people just blamed the industrialization process but the nations knew better.)

England had always been such a fan of Sherlock Holmes. Whither it was due to his people being such fans or some other cause, when the original publications had stopped with the Reichenbach Fall the people of the nation were thrown into morning. They wrote fanfictions and world builded to try and ease the hole in their hearts. There was a plethora of nasty letters given to Mr. Doyle. Doyle's house was even picketed. People were beat up in the streets. It was a terrible mess.

It was Canada who had found him. England at that point was half mad with books of all kinds. On the whole, it was a time of academic flowering for the country but it was really just Arthur Kirkland trying to hide from the pain behind more words and thus inspiring a generation of thinkers with his close presence. Even with the return of Holmes, it was slow going to get England better.

Now they were back at square one.

America wasn't sure what to do so he spent most of the morning simply cooing soft words to England and rubbing his back. Still England didn't stir. No doubt his magic was off wreaking havoc across the countryside. February 4th would be known as a really crummy day to be in England.

It was around 2:00PM when the phone rang. England didn't stir as America reached over to the bedside table to snag the landline.

"Alfred?" It was France. Honestly, America had expected Canada to be the first to check in when things had gone sideways. He had been the one to help America's plans after all.

"Hey Francis," said America sullenly.

"Would you mind telling me why the English weather has taken a royal dump?" said France. His voice was somewhat teasing but America could hear the underlying threat that promised a good deal of harm if anything was his fault.

"Arthur somehow got hold of the Reichenbach Falls," said America. England had gasped sharply at the name but otherwise remained unmoved to the conversation. His eyes simply gazed into nothingness.

"Not again," said France. "How is he?"

"How do you think!? Totally catatonic and no doubt bringing his country to a standstill."

"Indeed," consoled France. "There is snow everywhere in London and elsewhere. People are reacting like it is the apocalypse or something. If only they knew it was because of magic."

"I don't know what to do Francis," said America. His voice was soft but even over the phone France could hear the agony that America was going through. "I tried so hard to make sure he didn't see it. But I failed."

"You'll have to tell me all about it," said France. "I'll be there in a short while. We can get through this together and get our favorite Englishman back in fighting form."

"Thanks Francis."

America spent the rest of the day holding England in bed hoping that things would get better.

Canada arrived on February 5th. It was a testament to how hurt America was when he didn't beat the snot out of Canada for entering the house without him being aware of it. The weather in England was still dismal but the duo was able to get him cleaned up and back into bed. America was particularly reluctant to leave England for any duration of time so Canada was sure to do his best to keep America fed and trying to help him worry less. It didn't matter that Canada had to sleep on the cot in the attic; he had to be there for the both of them. It was only a matter of time before England would wake from his uneasy sleep and then they could really get to work helping him get better. Even in their pain, both were thankful that, at least, they were there for England.

France's plane came in very early on the 6th. For once it was only cloudy and not snowing in England so they were hopeful that the nation would get better soon. Sure enough England did stir awake in the afternoon but was so out of it that he might as well have been asleep. He started crying again on the next day.

Still, the accompanying nations did their best to try and help. They took turns reading The Adventure of the Empty House aloud to England. France even stuffed his pride and read the story in several older forms of English that he knew just for the change of pace. It was during one of these reiterations that England stirred on February 8th.

"You said that wrong," croaked England. His eyes were slits but at least he was somewhat aware. It didn't stop everyone from lurching forward. Even America who inadvertently jostled England from behind as he was sitting on the bed.

"Either way Sherlock Holmes is still alive," said France.

"And he lives to a ripe old age," said Canada.

"Oh England," said America. The other two shot him a look but really after his love being bedridden for the past almost-week, it was all America could muster.

"Gods I feel like shit," England said. He tried to sit up a bit but collapsed back down with a grunt. America caught him with ease and snuggled up against him.

"I'll go get you something to eat," offered Canada. He left and returned quickly but by the time he got back with some soup England had already drifted asleep once again.

England had nightmares on the 9th. He struggled a lot but between the three other nations he did not hurt himself. It was depressing to see him randomly start crying again. France assured the younger two nations that this was a sign England was getting better. He was reacting, which meant that he was feeling. Sure he was feeling a lot of emotional upheaval but feeling is better then being comatose.

By the 10th England was mostly functioning. He was still not quite put back together but America, Canada, and France helped him through it all and kept his waking mind occupied. With their teamwork, England's shock was nearly through. France left again on the 12th and was happy to report that normal weather had returned. Both Canada and America kept close to England for the rest of February.

There were a few rocky nights but by the time of the next conference in March, England was as fit as a fiddle. England's country was back to rainy weather and he had sufficiently distanced himself from his intense feelings.

The freak weather was a thing of the past.

Omake

"Do you remember last year when we had such a wonderful time in Vermont," said America over the phone to England. They had been unable to spend the conference lull together this year. England was far to busy preparing for the next royal baby and America was mired in disaster relief, economic woes and harsh colds. It was a reality that they had faced before. It came with the job description.

"Yes," England replied. "A year ago Sherlock Holmes plunged to his death."

"Oh Arthur, I didn't mean it like that."

"Off the roof of St. Barts."

"Arthur please. Focus on me right now."

"Hit the ground with a thud."

"Arthur. Listen to me. You're ok. Sherlock Holmes is ok."

"Blood everywhere."

"Arthur. Arthur don't do this. Babe, I need you to stay with me."

"Jumped for the sake of his friends."

"Please Arthur."

"Yes Alfred. It's been a bloody year."

"Arthur. I love you."

America didn't get a response. Instead the phone clicked off and he got dial tone. He swore under his breath and then louder still as he slammed the phone back onto its cradle. Quickly he rushed to the TV and turned on an international weather channel. (He had made sure to get the biggest and best cable package after all.) The UK weather was always featured at two minutes after every hour so America didn't have long to wait at all.

His worst nightmares were confirmed.

"And we have reports coming in from all over the UK saying that the snow they've been predicting since just before the 15th of January on this fine new year of 2013 will be coming to a head no doubt shortly. Already many parts of the UK have been under weather advisory and it will no doubt get worse as many folks will wake up on the morning to a wintery wonderland."

"Way to go Alfred," America said to himself. "Arthur's probably been trying not to think about the anniversary for days – and now you go and blow the whole thing and make the predictions accurate."

America hung his head in his hands and cursed. There was no way he'd be able to get ahold of England before the next day due to the time difference. The 18th of January was probably going to be a snow covered hell for some people in the UK and it was all his fault.

A/N: Thank you for reading. The title comes from Shakespeare's As You Like It. As I said before, I got the bulk of this written up as part of my reaction to the BBC Sherlock episode, The Reichenbach Fall. I felt it was poetic that the absolutely abysmal (from the English perspective) weather was a result of the personification's magic on the fritz. I was cleaning things up on my computer and found it partially completed. Being so far past the events of 2012, I never bothered to finish it. Then there was the one-year anniversary airdate and the UK weather took a turn for the worst. I felt it was the perfect opportunity to clean it up and post it. Forgive my indulgences.