I sat on the curb of the rugged roads of New York, the slow drizzle of cold rain splattering my face. After having fought with Oliver a few hours before, I felt empty. I don't care for these fights-nor did I care for that extremely annoying English man. I couldn't help it though…for the past centuries, Oliver had been the only one who really stayed with me. He was a maniac, sure, and I preferred Mathieu over that crazy dimbo anytime, but at least he was always there.

I ran my hand slowly, through my reddish-brown hair. I had been sitting on the curb long after everyone had cleared the streets and headed for shelter. It had been so long, that I couldn't even tell if I had been crying, or if it was just the rain that stained my face in colorless streaks.

Why did I say such useless things? Had I really meant what I had said?

~Flashback~

"You were with Arthur again," Oliver said, hovering over me.

I looked up at him, his pale blue eyes shone with a murderous calm, "What's it to you?"

"You were suppose to spend time with me!" Oliver hollered.

"Heh, what's this? Are ya jealous?" I smirked, despite myself.

"I don't understand why you like that dead pan numb-skull more than me!" Oliver said, his eyes blazing now.

I sat up on the couch and turned to look at him. I felt a boiling anger forming in the pit of my stomach, slowly shooting up, "Why? You wanna know why? It's because whenever you left to some ridiculous, drunken fight with Louise, Arthur was the one that took care of me. He was the one that took me up and actually cared. That's why I like that "dead pan numb-skull" more than you."

Oliver leaned in, dangerously close to my face, a kitchen knife shining in his hand. "Have you ever heard the phrase "never bite the hand that feeds you"? Because I think you need a proper lesson on the definition behind it."

I glared back at him, "Hmph! You're sure a clown! Feed me?! You try to poison me!"

"Only because you don't cooperate," Oliver said, his voice softening, as did his face.

"Trying to kill me don't make me wanna cooperate. All I wanted was to see Mathieu and get away from your psycho, maniac brain," I snarled.

"Do you really expect me to do that after you've insulted me like that?" Oliver asked, his eyes widening and his lips drawn back in a dangerous snarl.

"Well, it's the truth! Just because I like to spend more time with Matt, my brother, and Arthur, the guy that actually took the time to care for me, you go off your rocker every minute on the hour!"

"You're just a replacement, Alfred Jones," Oliver spat out the words. The words the pierced my heart and hurt more than any wound that I've ever felt.

"I do not care if I was the wannabe hero's replacement," I said, gripping Oliver's collar. "At least Arthur was more of a parent or a mentor than you ever was or will ever be."

"Are you hearing yourself, Al? You're so desperate to be noticed that you don't even care if you're a replacement. Don't you get it? You mean nothing to Arthur. You're just a substitute for his beloved Alfred F. Jones."

"Shut up!" I screamed, pushing him away and secluding myself.

I felt his arms wrap around my shoulders and his breath, surprisingly comforting, whispering into my ear, "Come now, Alfie. Don't worry about those 1P's. They're nothing but a group of selfish nations that depend on each other. If you really want to need someone to depend on. Depend on me. Need only me."

"You know why I went with Alfred and agreed on the Revolutionary War?" I asked before I could stop myself. "It was because I was sick of you. Of France and even Matt. I couldn't stand it anymore, being in such a dysfunctional family. I regretted it as I sat in the camps with Alfred and watched him map out our battle plans with General Washington. When it comes down to it though, I don't regret losing you in the Revolutionary War. Living with you, Louise and even Mathieu taught me one thing. The world is survival for the fittest, there's no one I can depend on and there no one that will care. You taught me that less loud and clear when you left me, a small country, alone for months and years on end without even caring. Every time I saw Arthur, I hoped for you. But when he told me you weren't with him…I realized what I was to you. Just another useless colony that you wouldn't give a damn about, even if I had not survived."

"Watch your mouth," Oliver hissed, pressing the cold knife to my face.

I pushed him off me and grabbed my jacket from the couch where it hung, "Don't bother coming looking for me. I'm done with you and I'm not coming back."

~Flashback ends~

The rain stopped. No, it didn't stop. Standing before me were black boots, red pants tucked in.

"Hey," came the harsh voice, coarse from smoking most the time, "Did some girl's boyfriend beat the shit out of you for flirting with their girl? Because if so, it doesn't really surprise me."

I allowed my gaze to travel up and meet that violet gaze which sent regret coursing through my body. I tried to hide my surprise. Instead I raised an eyebrow, "What are you talkin' 'bout? I'm fine. I just…I just felt like sitting here. In the rain."

It was useless and I know it. Matt would figure out what was wrong with me eventually. It always happened that way. He knew me too well and this time, my façade was carelessly built with leeks in every word.

I cleared my throat, trying to keep my gaze strong and firm, "What's with the whole umbrella thing, man? I'm not some damsel in distress that needs a handsome hero. Cut it out."

"Whatever you say," Matt sat down beside me, folding his umbrella.

A fancy look car drove by, splashing a large puddle in are direction. Matt grabbed the biggest rock he could find and landed a large rock at the back of the car's window and shouted loudly, "Watch it, dumbass!"

He turned back to me, displeasure on his face, "If you wanted to sit out in the rain, why didn't you do it somewhere else. You know, somewhere more comfortable to sit, eh?"

The thoughts the flowed through my head were mainly, "This kid is really stupid sometimes."

"Anyway," Matt leaned back, his hands propping him up from the sidewalk, "What's wrong with you?"

I smiled slightly. This guy…he always knew how to make me smile, whether he meant it or not. This feeling have happiness never lasted long though. I folded my hands together and looked down, the water trailing off my hair and landed in quiet splatters on the concrete. I hated myself for not being able to meet Matt's gaze. What did I look like to him right now? A wet rat maybe? A loser? Were my eyes red as if I had been crying?

"It's nothing," I mumbled, then said slightly louder, "It's nothing important anyway."

I glanced at Matt through the corner of my eyes, the look on his face told me he wasn't satisfied with that response, but the glimmer in his eyes told me he also couldn't care less.

"The economy," I suddenly said, remembering Alfred harping about it and telling me to do something about the rising criminal acts, "It's uh…it's failing. I guess. Sorta. I don't even know what those idiots are doin', but it's failing."

Actually, I should probably give more of a damn about what's happening in my country, since I'm a Nation. My responsibility though, laid among the people and not with the government. I was kept in the dark except for the occasional rambles of Wannabe-Hero. As long as the hoods didn't get more dangerous than they already were, I didn't have to intervene in anyway.

"So you're out here boo-hooing over your economy?" Matt said, his voice indicated that he was not believing a thing I said. I risked a slight glance and noticed he had a puzzled, yet worried look on his face.

"Yeah, pretty much," I shrugged, looking away again and towards the side. "I mean…this country is getting such a horrible rep now, ya know? What with all the shootouts and stuff."

If I told him that Oliver and I got into a fight he would surely asked what happened to figure out why I was crying and then…I would have to tell him how I really felt. It might drive him away and I don't want him to leave again.

"Of course I know. It's pretty obvious," Matt said. "I think you've known for a while too but I've never seen you so beat up over something like this before."

I heard the effort in his voice. He was trying to comfort me. I cocked my head up towards the sky as fresh tears rolled down my face. I felt like such a wimp and I hated it. I rested my head on Matt's chest.

"I…oh my god, Matt. I'm just a wreck," I sat up and looked at his violet eyes, "I…"

Matt's eyes widened behind his sunglasses. He took them off and the apparent worry reflected off his eyes, "Al, what happened? Who did this to you? Tell me and I'll go over there right now and beat the shit out of them."

I shook my head slowly, covering my face with my hand, "No…it's nothing like that. I just got in a small fight with Oliver and…I said so many things I shouldn't have and…he said…it's really nothing. We're the bad half of the better whole, we shouldn't have emotions like these. We were made to survive…on our own. I just…sometimes I wish that we were the better half of the rotten circle, though. Sometimes…I wonder what it's like to be cared for."

"Don't say that," Matt said, putting his hand on my shoulder, "you're not the rotten half. Oliver, he is. And so is Louise, but not me…and definitely not you. It's their fault that we turned out this way. They refused to raise us better."

I threw back my head and let out a humorless laugh, "I don't doubt that. Maybe it was their fault. Maybe we would have been better off with Native America…but…you know that's not true. Mattie and Alfred are here-the good ones. We can't be the better half no matter how much we try to change that fact. It's crushing…and painful. Knowing how people see you when you yourself know it's not completely the truth. Yet…yet you have to live up to that stereotype."

Matt turned away and sighed, "Yeah, well I guess you're right."

The sky had cleared up without me noticing. Clouds drifted listlessly and slowly, a rainbow began to form. I smiled, feeling better after talking to Matt. "But, you know what? If it weren't for us, they would have died centuries ago."