Someone was crying.
England woke up to the sound of the wails. He panicked for a moment, thinking the wails were one of an air raid siren, nearly jumping out of bed, ready to dive into his bomb shelter. He was on the floor before he realised they were real cries - cries from a person.
His next thought - through his foggy, sleepy mind, was that one of his colonies was crying. Poor little children, couldn't comfort themselves, so they needed him. He was halfway to America's old bedroom before he remembered he wasn't an Empire anymore and he didn't have any children anymore.
So who... who was crying?
England stared down the stairs, where the crying was coming from. He hesitated on going down them, not knowing whether it was a joke or not. He lived alone, no one came to him. He took a step down, and the crying got louder.
He was still debating whether to go down or go back to bed and ignore it, when it turned into a shriek - one that just pulled at his heart. The shriek that absolutely demanded attention, that needed comfort. Only that shriek comes from a baby.
He ran down the stairs, following the sound until he came into the living room, where, the child, sensing England was in the room, quietened a little. England went up to the small bundle of clothes and peered down into it. Two red eyes gazed back up at him.
He almost jumped back. He approached again, looking again at the watery red eyes, and small nose that poked out of the bundle. He picked the bundle up, rocking it almost subconsciously. He cooed gently, quieting the child further, who gazed up with an 'O' in his mouth at England.
"Well look at you," murmured England, smiling down at the baby. "Where did you come from?"
Of course, being just a baby, the child didn't answer, merely grabbed England's nightshirt and cuddled into it. "Gaaaaaah!" the child giggled.
"Well you're quite a screamer, aren't you?" he muttered, unfolding the blankets. "Oh, you're a boy." He squealed a little at the cold air and touched England's face. England could feel his heart slowly melting as he gazed onto this child. He slowly walked back up to his room, all sleepiness suddenly gone, even as he returned to the covers of his bed, gently covering himself and the child, who yawned cutely.
"Gaaah," he said more quietly, shutting his eyes.
"Wake me up then fall asleep yourself, huh?" England said, but he smiled. Before long, he had copied the child, and was asleep.
Somewhere far away in England, a group of people were gathering. They nodded to each other, standing in a circle.
"The child is in his hands," one said. "We are safe. He will not let any harm come to Oceania, no matter what."
"And with his love, England itself - and all it's people, will be safe when we rise." They turned to the screen, where England lay asleep next to the child.
"Don't worry, Britain... Big brother is watching you."