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The Englishman walked on the dusty ground, which he was sure must have been brown coloured or sand coloured at some point, as it was now red and rust coloured. Lovely. It wasn't like he wanted to be here, he had been forced by his boss! Well...that's what we're telling everyone anyway, he thought as he continued walking…occasionally kicking aside the odd bayonet. Yes he was walking on a track littered with dead bodies and discarded weapons, though, to be perfectly honest. He was used to this kind of thing.

He continued along the trail, this clearly showing someone had tread here, and then he caught sight of a familiar tuft of blonde hair, and a familiar muscly-fat body…now covered in cuts and bruises…lying on the sand. It was America.

'Alfred!' he ran over to the body, in the hope he was conscious. No such luck. 'Alfred? Come on you bloody idiot wake up!' He shook him violently; still he refused to wake up. Git.

'Sir you can't help him now, he's beat up pretty bad.'

'H-huh? Who are you?'

'Lieutenant Ray Adams. And that's Captain Jones, he's. Well he's beyond saving right now.

'W-what? What do you mean?' Arthur hadn't realised he was in tears by now. 'W-we can't save him?' but Arthur had completely missed something. Alfred was a nation. He wouldn't just die! And what he had also missed was the brief flicker of Alfred's eyelids…but Ray Adams certainly hadn't and before Arthur could notice the grey coat tails of the man in front of him, Ray pulled out a knife and plunged into Alfred's heart.

Arthur woke in a cold sweat. *Oh not again!* he thought as he woke up and washed his face. How many timed had he dreamt of that night..? Countless…that and…other things about Alfred…but he would keep that to himself. Never to leave the confines of his mind.

He sighed, today was the world meeting. Yay. Just what he needed. He thought he might as well take some reading material and-what did they call those things? iPods…ingenious invention, he could listen to all his classics and greats from this compact device, and he had recently discovered the iPhone…and the macbook…ingenious! But technology really wasn't his thing. It was Americas...and he disliked America and his items! But his boss had recommended this and said the notepads were just no longer that useful….he still remembered him 'Notepads? No one uses those anymore Arthur! Its iPads and tablets!' Whatever that was. Yes he saw the adverts, but he preferred books, and had lived long enough to see the best. Anyway, enough reminiscing…he wasn't some bloody 85 year old! Well….not exactly.

A few hours later, everyone's favourite Brit was making his way to the meeting, parking his lovely Rolls outside the building. Yes, England had a Rolls-Royce. Like a Boss. And as he was admiring the shiny surface, he saw the reflection of an all too familiar Italian sports car. The Lamborghini Bolardo that a certain Alfred Jones owned…but wait a second. His was the only other car in the parking lot. Surely that didn't mean….America had arrived...before him? And he was hosting! It was…well it certainly was new.

The usual had been set up for the conference, water bottles and plug points for all that hi-Tec stuff. And a complimentary hot blonde to come with it all! For there was Al, sitting at his usual place…reading...a book….and...Taking notes.

Weird.

'Alfr-America? What are you doing here?'

'Hmm? Oh hello England, I've come to attend the conference, I was just finishing some work.'

'I can see, but you came so early…very unlike you.'

'Well, punctuality is crucial when it comes to such important matters as these'

'Yes that's tru-wait what? You are talking about punctuality? YOU?'

'Yes, I understand I have a lack of punctuality as far as my reputation is concerned but I have decided that it is highly undignified and that this behaviour cannot continue.'

'Alfred….' What he had said…it sounded so…well, almost rehearsed. Like he had been practicing this. 'It's good to see you're growing up well, maybe some of my influence finally got set into motion after all those years I tried…'

'Well…I suppose. Now I really must be getting on with this, these notes must be sent back soon.'

'Okay then..Well don't let me hinder your progresses

And so that was the end of the conversation, England got out the new gadget he had been forced to buy, and America continued with his notes.

Soon other nations began to file in, all of them casting wary looks at America and asking England if he was all right, to which he had no reply. The meeting commenced, and it was record time because within the first two minutes; Spain was chasing Romano, Italy was kissing up to Germany, Canada was sat on by Russia…again, and France went around doing...what france usually does. Austria was sitting in the corner listening to Mozart on high volume through his headphones and England just face palmed and amused himself with this physics game called angry birds. It was finally America who stopped the commotion by slamming his hands on the desk and calling all of their attentions.

'Guys we have to stop this! Every damn meeting the same thing happens, and nothing comes out of it! We need to start resolving political matters. Don't you get it? Germany I thought you of all people would not have allowed this to happen, and England you're hosting the meeting!'

'Well I…I guess we just got so used to this routine that we-'

'Really? That's pathetic. You were once the strongest and most powerful empire on this planet, you would never have stood for something like this!'

England's mouth had gone dry, he had no answer for that, so he hung his head and refused to speak any further. That was one large scratch on his pride.

'I'm sick of this…if you want the United States' help, talk to my boss.' And with that he gathered his already packed things and walked out of the room. An awkward silence hung in the room, until the loud and obnoxious sounding engine of America's sports car broke it. Everyone knew he was right, that this had gone on for too long…well everyone except Greece who had fallen asleep in Japan's lap, but otherwise there was a kind of shame…and dense guilt hanging in the room, the exception here being Russia who was grinning for some obscene reason.

England couldn't stand it, so he silently excused himself and left. One by one the others followed, until the room was just empty.

England unlocked the door of his lovely country mansion with a head ache and an urge for a drink. What was with America today? Whatever had happened to that lovely, cheerful boy who would come up with insane ideas at the world meeting and say them with such pride and belief? He knew it was election time in the US, was he preparing to impress the new boss? It was confusing. Republics were confusing.

Whilst England was continuing this strand of very...interesting thought…his phone rang. Oh great, it was his boss, probably asking about the meeting. He answered, and to his surprise his boss asked him to call America, he had heard about the meeting from Hungary and Austria who were kind enough to drop by and tell him what happened. That was strange. And so his boss wanted him to talk to America and ask for his co-operation. Wonderful. Just what he wanted to do this evening. And then his boss added 'preferably sober Arthur, remember what happened when you called them after my whiskey collection mysteriously disappeared?' Arthur remembered…it was not a good memory. Well he could drink himself into oblivion later! And with hat, he dialled America's home number, he knew that it probably wouldn't be wise to call his work phone, but he might still be up.

The usual ring filled his ears as he sat on the expensive chairs of his living room.

'Hello, you've reached the house of Alfred Jones how may I help you?' it was a woman's voice. Wait, Alfred's secretary never stayed with him! What was this? Why did he care? No he didn't!

'Oh hello, I was wondering if I could speak to him, I believe this is his private number?'

'He's not available.'

'I see, then, May I ask, what are you doing at his private residence?'

'Well, I don't give out information to strangers and you have not introduced yourself yet, so mind id I ask who you are?'

'Oh yes, uhh..Its Arthur...Arthur Kirkland. The united Kingdom of England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland.'

'I see, now I will need to ask you for an identification question, its protocol.'

'What? I see you American's take your safety very seriously'

'Well you would if the same things had happened to you, and they have, so we're quits sir. Now, what was the animal Alfred swung around when he was younger?'

England was completely baffled by this question. Out of all the things in the world…they asked him…that? He would've thought America would rather not remember or talk about his childhood, and he knows England doesn't like talking about it! Bloody Git.

'W-well…I don't see how this is relevant…but it was a buffalo….I wish to tell you no more, now please answer my previous question'

'Well I trust you, and I live here, part time, I look after his German Shepheard, Busker.'

'Busker….? Wait, you live here?' She lived…with him!

'Yes, I do. Well whenever he needs me to. I have my own apartment but sometimes I drop by.'

'I see, so…are…you and Alfred…uh-'.

'Dating?'

'Well not the choice of word I would go for but yes.'

'Yes, we are.'

'R-right..' Way to be blunt!

'What is it? Got a problem?'

'No! How dare you think that!' Rude skank!

'Well sorry, you sounded…disappointed.'

'What? No I was surprised'

'Of course, now, is there a message you would like to pass on to Alfred?'

'No I'd rather speak to him in person thank you'

'Oh. Well I am quite clo-'

'Yes and I don't trust you so we're quits.'

'Right. Yeah. Sure. And by the way, for future reference, my name is Sora Akamatsu for now…..Jones in the future.'

'Yes well I-what? You…You're getting married to him?'

'Yes we are! Oh I'm so excited...isn't that great? We're going to have like three weddings it's going to be wonder-'

And he put the phone down, but the horrible, devastating and heart breaking truth hung in the air. America was getting married…to a human.

Was that even possible? England didn't know. But he felt terrible and broken. First the revolutionary war, now this? England's heart crumbled as he realised that there was now no future for him and America

It was now raining in England.

Meanwhile, in the suburbs of Washington, Alfred walked into his house, after being yelled at by numerous people in the White House that he should stop being so moody, and how were they going to get the other nations' help now?

Sora was sitting in the living room, looking extremely annoyed and sad at the same time. 'Plan A…failed.'

I'm hoping to make this multi chapter, so thank you all and please suggest ideas and if you want more chapters, how many if you do? thank you.