Scotland watched with a twisted grin as England cleaned the floor, picking up shards of glass from the tea cup that his older brother and let fall to the floor after dumping its contents into the messy blonde hair of the younger. England fought back tears, trying to keep his poker face as he stood. "Whiskey...?"
"Nae, nae tonicht." He looked away, not watching the blonde leave with the trash.
How had it become like this? Scotland didn't remember. He clung to the few memories he had of England smiling at him... laughing with him... Ah, wait... England had told him he wished for them to become one nation. He hadn't liked that... the other brothers soon made a game out of torturing the poor youngest son, who would cry and run to dear Scotland, only to be struck down again. England, who had just wanted to have a happy life with his brothers forever, never knew why they turned on him. Should he tell him? Should he get the weight of guilt off his chest?
Scotland was pulled from his thoughts as he heard muffled sobbing outside the door. Realizing England had finally caved in made something snap in Scotland. The redhead jumped to his feet and ran to the hall, startling poor England who expected to be struck again for making a racket. He didn't expect his brother to kneel beside him... To pull him in his arms and comfort him... England was beyond surprised.
"A'm sairy Artie... A'm sairy..." Scotland held his brother tenderly for the first time in ages. He gently wiped the tears away, giving each bruise he had inflicted a light kiss. "Forgive me... Ah dinnae want it tae turn oaut like t'is... Ah dinnae wanna hurt ye like t'is... A'm sae sairy..."
England looked up into his brother's eyes, noticing for the first time the deep pools of pain and guilt. He wrapped his arms around his brother's neck and started to cry again. "I-I already did you git..."
" Artie... ah still loue ye..."
"Good... because I never stopped loving you either..."