Hey there, Fang here.

Yes! More angst! Except this time...it's more of a mental angst...no real torture this time, sorry. Hope you like it anyway!

Arthur bolted up from the couch in barely contained anger.

"You still don't believe I can do magic, do you?"

"Iggy, that's so not what I meant at all!"

The Brit huffed, and crossed his arms about his chest, while his American visitor just sat farther back into his chair.

"You git, I can see through you perfectly! You think I'm insane! That I just need mental help! Well, you're absolutely wrong!"

Alfred was shaking his head.

"You got it all totally wrong, dude…"

"I'll have you know that my magic and my friends were my backbone when I was little!"

Alfred could have laughed, but the look on Arthur's face was so serious that he actually thought better of it.

"Dude, dude, dude, I get it, alright? Now will you stop yelling at me?"

Arthur only growled, and stalked out of the room. Alfred rubbed the back of his head and allowed himself a small grin while Arthur was gone. Yeah, he knew Arthur thought he could do magic and see weird creatures. But you know, no one else had actually seen him do any. It was cause for a little skepticism, no matter how you looked at it. Of course, telling Arthur this was probably not the smartest idea he had ever come up with, and now Arthur was in a rage that was almost impossible to come out of. Great job, Alfred, he told himself. Great job. So much for a peaceful visit.

Five minutes later, Arthur came in with a tattered old book and a stick in his hand. He was holding it from one side, as if it was…a wand? Really, Iggy…Alfred thought to himself.

"I'm going to show you how I do it, and then you'll never have any doubt about it again, you git!" He brandished the wand and flipped the large tome to a page somewhere in the middle.

"Artie, it isn't that I don't believe you, its just that you've never actually given us any reason to believe you! None of us have ever seen your friends or you doing any sort of magic! You can't blame us, dude."

"Well then, I'll just show you now!"

The writing on the page was in some weird dialect or language, with swirling symbols and lines covering the page like a well-planned graffiti. Alfred's eyebrow lifted.

"You really can read that? Looks like something from "Lord of the Rings", dude."

"Of course I can read this! The demons and angels of the realm next to this one taught it all to me!" Arthur's voice was only becoming bitterer. Alfred shrugged his shoulders, but his curiosity was piqued. If Arthur could really do this stuff (Which he still heavily doubted) then dude…that would be so cool. Arthur let out a few curses, and went to stand in the middle of the carpet. He looked around the room, his head jerking from side to side in search of something. His eyes landed on an old, withered plant in the corner of his parlour, and he walked towards it.

"Just watch, Alfred. This plant will be a seedling again once I'm done with it! I'll show you what I can do! I'll make you believe me!"

"Arthur, you don't have to, I-"

Arthur wasn't listening. His face was set with determination to regain his reputation, and he wasn't taking no for an answer. He pointed his wand at the dying plant, and shouted some sort of incantation at the object.

The room was instantly filled with a white light surrounding the plant. Arthur closed the book with his hand, keeping his other steadily trained on the object. Alfred was shielding his eyes the best he could, but nothing could keep out the almost blinding light.

Arthur's face changed to surprise as the light suddenly moved from the plant and began circling him like a blanket.

"What the bloody-"

"Arthur!" He began to walk towards his brother, but Arthur's voice cut through like a knife.

"Alfred, get back!"

Something was wrong, even Alfred could tell. Arthur had not planned for this. His hand holding the wand was starting to shake, and Arthur was looking around himself in utter confusion.

The light darkened ominously around the Brit, leaving him in a vortex of a black swirling cloud, and Alfred only had a quick glance of Arthur's shocked face before the wand shot something back at him. It hit Arthur straight through the chest, blasting him back through the open doorway with a cry of surprise and fear. The light faded just as quickly as it had appeared. Alfred shook his head and ran into the adjourning room, glancing at the plant on his way. It was unchanged, as old and dying as ever.

Alfred stood at the doorway and called out Arthur's name. Looking forward, he saw nothing but a pile of clothes…England's clothes. Alfred rushed to the fabric; Arthur was gone.

"Iggy? Iggy!" he cried, feeling the fabrics to see what the #!*% was going on. His frantic hands touched something warm and alive, and it jumped. Alfred exclaimed in surprise.

A small boy popped up from the clothing warily, his blonde hair going every which way. He looked up at Alfred with confusion and a hint of fear in his large emerald eyes. Alfred's mouth dropped open.

"A-Arthur?"

AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:

Well...Silly Arthur's magic backfired...

I've always wanted to do a fic like this...Alfred apparently has no idea what to do with children, and Arthur...well...you'll find out. Hee Hee Hee...i feel so evil right now.

And Arthur's childhood was horrid...That's another reason why I wanted to do this fic...I mean honestly, the kid had no friends, his brothers tried to kill him constantly, France was always trying to invade him, no wonder he relied on Flying Mint Bunny and Uni and Captain Hook!

So yeah...there's my pitiful explanation for angsting Iggy again...(sheepish grin)

Hope you like it anyway, and review...maybe? Please? With tea? ^_^'

-Fang