Just so you know, this fic starts out in present day and a memory takes Alfred back to when he was younger. Then it ends back on that same day. I just wanted to make sure that it was clear.

Enjoy~

The American plopped onto the grass. He was exhausted from the long plane ride and glad to finally be back on his own land. Glad to finally be home. He lay facedown on the grass, with his glasses pushing into his face, for a few minutes. He sighed before he pulled himself off the ground and into a sitting position. Sitting cross-legged in the sun was refreshing. The warmth and brightness of the midday was a nice change of the constant rain that he left on the other side of the ocean. He ran both hands threw his blond hair and linked them behind his head. Then, he fell backward onto the freshly-cut grass. The heat was intensified through his glasses. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth on his eyelids. A deep sigh escaped his lips.

He enjoyed lying in the middle of his front yard in the warm sun. It felt so good to be back on American territory. Being in the continuous rain can get depressing after a while.

He knew that Arthur would disapprove of this behavior. Artie would scold him for lying right where everyone could see him. It was "uncivilized behavior." He knew that is Artie was here, he'd tell Alfred to "move his inappropriate behavior to the backyard" as he had so many times when he was younger. Alfred still didn't quite understand how lying in the front yard could be "uncivilized" or "inappropriate" but this was one of Artie's rules. Today, Artie wasn't in charge anymore. He hadn't been for a long time.

Alfred always felt like this after he visited his former father figure. After every visit, he found himself wondering what Artie would think of his behavior. He fell into the habit of wondering whether Artie would approve of this for a few days after every visit. Once those days were over, Alfred reverted back to his normal, heroic self.

A large cloud drifted over the sun, interrupting his mind wondering. Alfred opened his eyes and sat up. He stretched and looked around his yard. His eyes stopped on the ancient apple tree to his left. This gigantic tree had been there as long as he remembered. He used to sit underneath it when he was young and wait for Arthur to come visit. He thought back to one of these days, so long ago.

Alfred was young and small, the age of seven human years. This was before he had become a nation. Before he was independent.

It was a hot, humid day in the middle of July. Alfred sat in the shade of that apple tree. It was not nearly as large as it was now, nor did its shadow cast nearly as big. But shade was shade and it was so hot out.

It was the day that Artie had promised to visit. Alfred always waited for him in the front yard. He loved Artie's visits. They were a nice change from being alone. Alfred hated living all alone in his big house. He never had anyone to play with, expect the occasional local neighbor, but even they didn't stay to play all that long. Most of them ran off, afraid of the abnormal amount of strength that Alfred possessed. They ran as soon as they saw Alfred throw a buffalo across the fields with his bare hands. No one wanted to play with "that weird kid."

The young Alfred sat cross-legged underneath the tree, waiting for the arrival of Artie. He watched the front gate, waiting for it to swing open with his only friend on the other side.

Hot, impatient, and bored, Alfred turned his attention to the apple tree. He began to peel the bark off the tree absentmindedly. He let his mind wander to the last time Artie had visited. He had brought roast beef then. Maybe he would bring some more food. Alfred was hungry.

"Alfred!" yelled a stern British voice from behind him. The small boy jumped up into a standing position. He stood up straight and hid his hands behind his back, as if he had been caught doing something wrong. His was his instinctive pose he had whenever Artie used that tone. He did this whenever he had been caught doing something wrong (even if he wasn't sure what it was that he had been caught doing.)

"Artie!" Alfred greeted cheerfully, remaining in this pose. He smiled at the Englishman. Alfred knew that Artie was about to yell at him, but he didn't know why. He decided to act like he had no idea that he was in trouble. "It's about time you got here! I've been waiting out here for a whole hour!"

Arthur smiled slightly at the drama of this statement. Remembering that he was about to scold Alfred, he coughed awkwardly and the smile was gone from his lips. He attempted to regain his stern expression, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. His green eyes still showed his amusement that he had for Alfred's statement. Hoping to make Artie forget his anger and laugh, Alfred decided to play up the drama a little more.

"Seriously Artie!" Alfred whined, stomping his feet. He threw his fists to his side with over exaggerated anger. In his right hand, he clutched the bark he picked off of the apple tree. "I've been waiting here FOREVER! I hate waiting."

"Alfred, that's enough," Artie reproached. A faint smile lingered on his lips and the laughter showed in his eyes. He walked over to the small boy and kneeled on one knee, so that he was at eyelevel. He tried once again to be disapproved, but it was clear to Alfred that he was charmed. "Please explain to me what you were just doing."

"Waiting for you!" Alfred nearly shouted. He hoped to get a laugh out of Artie, but failed. Artie sighed and took Alfred's right hand into his own. He opened the boy's hand, to take out the piece of bark. Artie let the hand drop and held the piece of bark in front of him.

"I'm talking about this, Alfred," Artie tried to explain. Alfred's confused look remained present on his face. "You shouldn't be picking the bark off of trees. Be considerate of people's homes."

"What?" Alfred was thoroughly confused. He didn't understand how picking bark off a tree could ruin anyone's home.

"Can't you see that she's upset?" Artie asked, further confusing Alfred. The boy looked over to the tree. He looked up toward the leaves swaying in the breeze and down toward the roots plunging into the ground. Then, he looked back at Artie with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm upsetting a tree?"

"Not the tree," Artie sighed. He turned to focus his attention in the direction of the tree, but his dark green eyes seem to be fixed on something directly in front of the tree. "This lovely young lady here. I'm terribly sorry for the damage to your home. Is there anything that can be done?"

Alfred stared at the Englishman in confusion. He didn't see anyone in front of the tree. He looked behind the tree and still he saw no one. If this were any other person besides Artie, Alfred would have thought this was a joke. Could Artie actually have a funny bone?

"Artie… Who are you…?" his voice trailed off as Artie laughed at some unheard joke.

"Alfred, don't be rude. Apologize." Artie told him. Alfred looked from Artie to the air in front of the tree and back to Artie. The Englishman must have gone insane. "Go on. Apologize."

"I'm… sorry?" Alfred said hesitantly. Artie, again, laughed at some unheard joke. Alfred awkwardly smiled, not sure what else to do. Artie continued to make conversation with the air in front of him.

"He's still young and has so much to learn… Oh, no, don't worry about that… No, I insist. Come in for some tea… It's not a bother at all… Ah, well if you have some business… No, no, I'll leave you be… Have a good day now… I'll see you around…"

Alfred stared in horror as Artie talked to nothing. He watched as Artie carried on a conversation with air and listened for nothing to respond. Once the one-sided conversation was over, Artie stood up and put a hand on Alfred's head. He waved goodbye to the invisible friend and guided the boy into the house. Alfred followed, but stared at the spot where Artie had been talking to.

Once they were in the house, Artie went to go make some tea. He put the kettle on the stove and found two mugs in the cabinet. Alfred stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at Artie.

"Who… who were you talking to?" Alfred asked gingerly.

"Why… I completely forgot to ask for her name," Artie scrunched in thick eyebrows together. "I didn't even introduce myself. How rude of me."

"But… who… what was it that you were talking to?" Alfred refused to step into the kitchen. He was convinced that Artie had gone slightly crazy.

"She was one of the fae that live in that apple tree," Artie explained nonchalantly. "That was her home you were defacing."

"Fae? As in fairy?" Alfred questioned. Artie definitely had to be crazy. "You… were talking to a… a fairy?"

"Alfred, are you ok?" Artie walked over to him and felt his forehead for a fever. He kneeled down on one knee and looked the boy in the eyes with concern. "You're acting strange. Is everything all right?"

"I…I…I…" Alfred started to say: "I didn't see the fairy" but stopped himself. When he looked into Artie's green eyes, he couldn't bring himself to say it. Those eyes belonged to his only friend. He knew that his friend may have gone crazy, but it wouldn't help by telling him. "I'm starving. Didn't you bring me anything to eat?"

Alfred was sitting in the sun, staring at this apple tree. This same tree he had sat under and waited for his only friend many years ago. The tree that he had seen Artie talk to a "fairy" under.

He stared at the spot in front of the tree. As much as he didn't believe in magic or fairies, Alfred had never picked the bark off that tree again.

Author Notes: I have to say that I really enjoyed writing this. This may be my favorite thing I've written so far. I had a little trouble ending it so I apologize if it's awful. I'm thinking about adding another chapter but I'm not sure. I might just want to keep it at this. Tell me what you think.

Review please~