Rejected Kindness

[A/N: What was originally supposed to be a one-shot began morphing into my mind as a sequel to "Memories of a Different Time". I began typing out an entire storyline in my precious two weeks of summer vacation. Sadly, I'm not sure if I can live up to the first chapter, but I'll do my very best. Thanks to all the people supporting me and encouraging (read: telling me that I should write more of) this story.

I would like to apologize ahead of time for England's...ahem...language. I have the feeling that the rating on this is going to go up...ah well.]

Chapter Two

A Rejected Relationship

Three days trickle by unceremoniously before it dawns on Germany that he still caught glimpses of the child who had run away from him.

Peter - Sealand - is still there, in London. Germany still sees him, usually from behind, and usually from a distance. He is easy to pick out, with those enormous eyebrows. He seems to see him everywhere - on the sidewalk, at the store, at the U.N. building...

It is at the United Nations building that he most often notices the boy, the single unmoving person on the sidewalk, even if it is raining like it was the first day Germany saw him. The look the child wears is almost wistfully as he gazes up the building, and Germany's stomach clenches tightly when he thinks of how long the child must have been doing this - how many weeks, months, years had it been?

He wondered vaguely why Peter is still there. Then again, he realizes sadly, this was London.

Arthur is here.

Germany does not believe Sealand's claim of hating the Englishman - he hadn't believed it for an instant. If anything, the few hours that he spent with the boy only reaffirmed his belief that Peter pined for his brother's affection - or, at the very least, his attention. Unlike Japan and Italy, his former Axis cohorts, he was able to read between the lines and allow his observations on situations be public, instead of keeping it to himself.

He wouldn't be able to keep this to himself, not if he tried. Somehow, he felt an attachment to Peter, a desire and an instinct to protect the boy from the harsher truths of the world.

Then again, Germany knows nothing about Sealand, spare his name and the few small details he had learned in those precious few hours. It makes him realize that despite being a nation, the world is very large, and even he cannot know everything.

The thought that he cannot save everyone also crosses his mind, but he pushes that away before he believes it.

/-\

Questions race through Germany's mind as the meeting goes on, and he makes no move to take charge, even as things start to go out of hand. He is too consumed in his own thoughts.

Italy, who is sitting next to him, notices the larger man's melancholy almost immediately. He silently inches his hand closer to the Germanic nation's; once he takes it and squeezes lightly, a thoughtful, curious look forms in his eyes. Japan gazes at him softly, but says nothing, as is his policy.

The two know him. They know his subtle expressions and mannerisms; the things that make him Germany. They know when something is wrong - even with Italy's inability to read the atmosphere. Somehow, the blond is grateful for these two - his former Axis cohorts, who understand him even when he says nothing.

After about twenty minutes of mayhem, the room, which had been filled with happy chatter and shouting, (along with the occasional shrieks coming from where China and Russia were sitting), eventually quiets down when everyone realizes that Germany has no intention of yelling at them to get it together - and England awkwardly clears his throat with a cough before he voices what everyone else in the room is thinking,

"What the devil is wrong with you? Feeling under the weather?"

Germany can't help but wince at the obvious sarcasm in his voice; England was wary around him, even more now then he had been before. He sighs, Italy still hanging on his arm, before replying curtly,

"To be honest, yes, I am. But if you, the host of this meeting, are unable to control the antics of the nations around you, then I suppose I must take over. You have never been good at controlling problems in your country, have you? You always abandon them before things become difficult."

The words slip out before Germany has a chance to contain them. Somehow, however, he does not regret them.

England's face turns a deep shade of purple at the insult, and he slams his hands on the table. France attempts to put a reassuring hand on his arm, but England snaps it away. He shoots Germany a dirty look, "You damn Kraut! My country and my problems are none of your damn business! Keep your nose out of things where it doesn't belong!"

"Your mistakes and problems aren't something I take pride in finding, Arthur."

"Then stop fucking looking at them! It's got nothing to do with you, just leave it the hell alone!"

The German cocks an eyebrow, "It?" he asks icily before standing, "You dare call your 'problem' an it?"

"I'll call it whatever I damn well please!" England snarls, green eyes flaring in an icy cold anger. He glares down at the Frenchman who is tugging on his sleeve for him to calm down, "God damn it, Francis, will you pipe down? I can't fucking believe this. Why am I the bad guy here? I didn't do anything that you yourself wouldn't do if you were in my shoes, you Kraut!"

The room is completely silent. Every nation is tensing up, prepared for Germany to do his worst. Some, the Germanic nation suspects, are hoping for a fight.

Instead of pleasing either of these crowds, Germany abruptly pushes his chair back and nudges Italy off his arm. His eyes soften as he sees the tears brimming out of Italy's eyes - he knows nothing, of course he'd be frightened by this outburst - but they harden as soon as they leave the Italian's face and look back up at England. He steps away from the table and turns away, silently fuming, and briskly walks away as England shouts at his retreating back.

"You better run! Fucking around in places nobody wants you!"

It is not until Germany is out of the room and in the hallway when he realizes two things: one, that tears are building in his eyes, and two, there another nation in the hall that had followed him out, resting his hand on the German's shoulder. The German turns to his side to find a blond nation with an abnormally long curly hair standing next to him, his violet eyes sad and knowing. It takes Germany a moment to register the teen standing there, but as soon as he does, he swallows, "Canada. What are you...?"

"You know about Peter."

It was a statement, not a question. Germany's jaw slacks slightly as he stiffens at the quiet, sad smile on the other's face. He swallows and asks quietly, "How...?"

The Northern nation adjusts the polar bear in his arms and sighs slightly, the smile fading from his face, "Peter told me about you. I found him, on the boardwalk, a-and he was crying and upset...s-so I asked him what was wrong, and he told me about you. That you tried to take him to Germany."

Germany's face falls when he recalls the impulsive words, and he rubs the back of his neck shamefully, "Yes. I did...say that, but only for his own good..." he adds after a moment, "You know about - about Peter? I can honestly say I have never heard of 'Sealand' before..."

Canada adjusts the glasses on his nose, pushing them up further on his face, before replying, "It's a well-kept secret, eh...Arthur hates when we talk about him, especially around meeting times. Peter's his little brother - mine too, I guess - and he's always around, trying to sneak into the meetings...even the ones that aren't in England...I've heard that Arthur's caught him trying to sneak on a plane to New York more then once...yeah, me and Al and Francis all know about him. I-I think a few of the other nations do, too, but I'm not sure."

The older man is at a loss at these words. His throat tightens as his thoughts escape him - how had he been able to ignore this, how had he been left in the dark about something so serious for so long? - but he clears it up with a cough before he tries to speak, "He says you don't talk to him. You, nor France, nor America"

The Canadian sighs and shakes his head, "We do talk to him, but not often. A-and that's only because England pitches a fit whenever we do. Still, Al and I manage to see him once a month or so, and Francis visits him a little more often then that...but I guess he assumes we never talk to him, because he's mostly alone anyway, eh?" he adjusts the polar bear in his arms again.

Germany sighs and rubs the back of his neck again, "I see...he's often alone?"

The northern nation freezes slightly. Germany looks over to him, curious, before Canada takes a deep breath and looks down shamefully, his chin nestled in his bear's soft white fur, "...more then you can imagine. H-he has citizens, if you can call them that, but...they mostly travel outside his country...they don't even really live there. Th-they're actually in London right now, but they aren't...with him. Peter mostly does as he pleases...he doesn't really have anyone who really takes care of him..." He looks away, almost shameful, memories glazing over his eyes, "It kills Al that he can't just pluck Peter right up and take him home, it really does."

Germany does not comment. Suddenly, the doors to the meeting room open again. Germany stiffens his back, expecting the worst. However, instead of a crying Italy, or an enraged England, a cheerful pat on the back greets him. He looks back, slightly confused, to find America standing there, grinning like a fool.

"Man, I swear I've never seen you pissed off. It was kinda cool seeing you tell off Arthur, though."

The larger blond grimaces slightly, "What are you doing? Shouldn't you be in the meeting?"

"Shouldn't you?" America asks pointedly, and Germany falls into silence. Ignoring this, America claps his hand on Canada's back, "Hey bro, I see you're still the master of skipping meetings, huh?"

The twin's response was deadpan, "I was sitting next to you. The entire time."

America's grin widens, and he nudges for his fellow blonds to follow him, "Well, whatever, dudes. Say, Germany, since you're skipping out on the meeting, too, how about we all go for drinks? I'll pay for it."

"Al, it's two in the afternoon and I know for a fact you don't have your wallet."

The American's face blushes a bright red. He leans backwards and grabs his twin into a headlock, "Hush up, Mattie! I'm trying to get Germany to come drinking with us!"

"O-ow! Don't come crying to me when you don't have the money to pay for it, eh?"

Germany's face twitches into a smile as he watches the two North American twins fight and argue. Perhaps drinking with them isn't such a bad idea - though he's never been particularly close with the two, he might be able to learn more about Sealand and England's broken relationship. He claps America on the back and smirks, "I wouldn't mind taking you two out for drinks. What do you say, ja? I'll pay for the both of you."

/to be continued