Written by: Freedom_is_key

Recap:

Although he would never admit it Arthur enjoyed the cheerful American's presence. Even though it's only been a few days Arthur misses the loud, obnoxious, overly cheerful American. He wasn't used to seeing him cry. In fact he hated seeing him like this and is willing to do anything to make him smile again.

*chapter start*

A few weeks passed before they were able to meet again, but it was on much happier terms. The War in Europe was over, and they were thrilled. America came all the way to England to celebrate, and celebrate they did. They danced in the streets for hours, celebrating with the civilians, and then went to the pubs and bought several rounds of drinks for the compatriots. England was an utter and complete lightweight, meaning it only took about 2 drinks for him to become a drunken mess. Had it been any other night, he would've started screaming about what denomination of Christianity he was, followed by either insulting France, or about how strong an empire he had been,and would've called it a , because of the celebrations, he needed up having way too many drinks, and the night just escalated from there. There had been near blood pacts made with strangers( America's count was at least 6).

He screamed at the top of his lungs " IM THE BLOODY UNITED KINGDOM! I CAN HOLD MY LIQUOR"

That had prompted surprisingly few looks; apparently this was a surprisingly common occurrence, and he had nearly gotten into a duel that had taken twenty minutes, another round of drinks, and $100 to get out off. The night(or morning) ended when England fell off of the table he had been dancing on while screeching patriotic songs, and fell into a drunken half-conscious decided that enough was enough, so he picked him up and threw him over his shoulder, and walked out the door.

The city was still wide awake at 3:30 in the morning, so random civilians waved at him on the street, giving him a smirk or grin.

He heard a moan escape from his friend. " What are you doing, you wanker. I'm the.."

"Yeah, yeah, your the United Kingdom, I know. I'm taking you home."

The English man managed to muster the whiniest voice America had ever heard. " But I want to stay out..."

America chuckled. " Jesus Christ man, if you sound that much like a toddler, I definitely can't let you stay out."

They walked in silence for a few moments, before England dropped a metaphorical bombshell.

" You turned out really well, didn't you?"

America stopped abruptly. He knew he was drunk, but " honest and cheesy confessions" drunk, was a side of drunkenness he had never seen in him before.

" I mean, you're taking me home, your country's economy is better, and your country is just fantastic in so many ways."

America stayed silent. He felt so happy that he was proud of him, but he kind of hated that he had to be drunk to talk about it. And there was something else...

" Hey England? If a country were to say, hurt another country that's their friend in a new and terrible way, to prevent more deaths and the war, would it be ok? Or does that make them terrible and awful?"

He held his breath. His reaction meant everything to him.

" If it ends the war, then it is probably for the best. You'll do what's right."

He breathed a sigh of relief. He knew the drunken idiot couldn't remember, but at least for now, he had some minor closure.

*to be continued*