His nose was in that damn book again. That damn book that he told him not to read-that Red book of his that he coveted so. The book that gave him ideas that were dangerous- but he could always beat it out of him. He was good at that, England thought darkly.

England was watching his colony come home from a day in the fields, reading that damn German book once more. It was the Communist Manifesto, by Karl Marx. And no matter how many times England had burned it, tossed it, drowned it, America always got his hand on another copy.

It had been over half a century since his failed uprising, the American Revolution. Had his colony not hated him before that, he certainly hated him after it. England had killed all the upstarts, and beat his colony into submission, into the ground. The colony he used to call his brother now spurned him entirely, solely because England destroyed him.

"America, what are you doing with that damn book again?" He called out, arms folded, cross with the colony.

The mere colony gave an irritated noise, giving his owner a foul stare. "You didn't tell me you were coming." He muttered, putting the book in his pocket.

England sniffed. "I have no need to tell mere colonies my plans." Though he dreamt of the relationship they used to have every night, with loving blue eyes instead of hateful ones, a gentle smile instead of a hard frown.

America laughed. "Go to hell England." The broken man flipped him the finger. England was outraged by this behavior, vision going red.

"30 lashes." He growled, and America rolled his eyes. "Forty." He threatened, and America sneered.

"Naturally, you would be the one to oppress the working man." He muttered, and England doubled the previous number. That shut him up. Arthur went inside, and made his cup of tea with the teapot he brought to the tune of America's screams. America was so insistent on breaking the ones he left. It was time to break something of America's.

Hopefully it wouldn't be his colony.

XXXXX

It was only 3 years later that the stupid bastard tried again to break away- Only this time, he succeeded. It was a bloody war, but they were determined. Guerrilla forces beat a trained army; it was an outrage. A European power was beaten by a colony; it was a scandal! It was an undoubtedly embarrassing loss for England, and so his colony was no longer.

He was The United Socialists of America. America ordered that England leave everything and go. The communist bastard took everything in the American hemisphere that he could get his communist claws in. He took all of South America and the Caribbean from Spain and Portugal, and nearly took Canada from England and did grab many of his Caribbean colonies.

Then he went into Isolation, and all news of him stopped.

That was, until the First World War.

XXXXX

Alfred was a busy guy. It was hard being a nation with no government, almost no real allies, and one of the few true communist states. It was hard being the one everyone hated.

The time was 1924. He had come in at the First World War since England had cried Uncle. But England, Russia, and France had not liked his peace at all-It was too "kind" to Germany.

As America was in his home right now, he thought that he rather liked the guy and his older brother. Prussia was an okay guy, if too boisterous. He had trained him back during his failed Revolution.

"I'm telling you, Germany. Communism is the only way forward." He smiled brightly, and hummed as he contacted his treasury.

Germany nodded, thoughtful. "My brother thinks Marx was too radical," and Alfred agreed.

"Well, I would have thought that as well, had I not experienced how terrible the Bourgeoisie really was." He hummed. "Well, the Dawes plan is enacted." He said as he received the confirmation reply in the form of morse code. He pat Germany's shoulder, the poor guy looked sickly. "How's Gilbert?" He asked.

Ludwig looked uncertain. "Well, I'd say he's... alright."

"So he's still annoying as ever, but pretty sick?" And Germany nodded, rubbing his temples.

"Unfortunately." And Alfred laughed.

"Yanno, he tried to train me, in my failed revolution. He's a good guy underneath it all." He wiped away a mirthful tear.

"I know. I just wish he hadn't tried to..." And Alfred grew solemn again.

"Tried to stop you from seeing the war?" And Germany nodded. Alfred pat his shoulder.

"He'll be okay, eventually. The doctors at my place are working on a solution to this illness of the mind." Germany sighed. He looked lost.

Alfred left soon after that, humming as he did so. He ignored the looks of mistrust from Germany's advisors. Capitalist scum. They didn't understand the beauty of communism. But Alfred did.

His countrymen, his Comrades welcomed him at the port. He welcomed them back jovially, a big smile on his face.

What was important was to remember that he had allies in the form of his Southern neighbors- Even if his own twin brother wasn't his ally. He would move past it.

Mexico was discussing how crazy Germany had been for contacting him of all people to get Alfred distracted. They were communist bros. But that had been a brother desperate to end a war in a positive way, since it had been upon his insistence they join. Alfred didn't begrudge him for it.

XXXXX

But he would begrudge him for this.

The time was World War II. Germany, Japan, and Italy had formed an alliance, taken over continental Europe, and were now eying Americas quite massive sphere of influence. Much to Alfred's annoyance, Japan, once his friend, had provoked him by bombing Pearl Harbor.

He was looking over England's message to him with a pondering sort of look.

Perhaps it was time to unleash his war machine.

He smiled enigmatically.

XXXXX

Alfred's order to attack came that night. All his people knew of his existence. They knew that he was their leader, their nation. The mighty United Socialists of the America- no trivial force to be reckoned with, as Japan would soon find out. Alfred's secret police quickly found Hitler's nuclear missile plans. He didn't tell his "ally", and former owner about them.

But he still had to meet him at their meetings to discuss war plans. "England." He said, coolly. Blue eyes watched the man with calculation.

The man tensed. "Hello, United Socialists of America." England said, stiffly, green eyes weary.

Russia was there, looking to America with confusion. America sat down, and folded his hands over his lap, before he deigned to speak to the man again. "United Kingdom." He said, terse. "We have a lot to talk about."

"Indeed." Russia said, looking uncertain. "Well. Let us begin."