"Ugghhh…" England sighed as he heard the familiar ringing of his alarm sounding. He rolled over to the other side of the bed to turn it off, seeing the time, 7:30. He sat up in bed scanning the room for any of his friends, who were usually awake up to two hours before he even stirred, but the Englishmen saw none of the magical creatures. Hmm, he thought to himself, they must be downstairs eating breakfast. The thought of more food made Arthur's stomach ache. He was still stuffed from the feast that France had laid out before him the night before. He hadn't thought it was weird at the time for his rival to treat him to such generosity; fore he was too occupied stuffing his face with the soufflé. But upon more contemplation he did sense a certain unusual aspect of the Frenchmen's lavishness. Britain had also noticed an odd sense of respect from America when he had said goodnight to him yesterday. However, these thoughts were quickly blown away when he heard the banging of pots down in the kitchen. I hope Flying Mint Bunny didn't decide to make another gingerbread man today. I can't chase another cookie with a full belly like this!
England trotted downstairs hearing another stream of crashes. He was getting more and more worried about the exploits of the ambitious flying rabbit. Turning the corner to enter the kitchen, Arthur braced himself for the worst.
"Oh! Hey British dude! I thought I'd do something that would relax you, since Canada and France stressed you out last night! Doesn't it sound righteous?"
Arthur rubbed his temples in circular motions as he took in the situation before him. There was Alfred, the nation he had raised, standing behind what looked like Busby's chair. In front of the chair was a large basin containing steaming water and a copious amount of bubbles. On a coffee table nearby there was a metal kettle of newly brewed tea. From what England could smell, it was raspberry, one of his favorites. Also on the coffee table was a cup of honey, another cup of cream, and a small vessel of cane sugar.
"Looks soothing, right? Come over here loosen up. I found this chair in your workshop, seems like you'd been working on. I realized you had probs worked all week on it and never rested on the nice cushion. Only seems fair for you try Artie. Take a load off!" The smile on America's face widened.
"America, you do know that's Busby's chair, correct?" England asked the American kindly, not wanting to hurt his feelings in return for the nice gesture.
"So…"
"Alfred, if I sit on the chair I will explode into millions of pieces."
"I can see how that might be a problem."
America blushed for a split second, his smile never faltering, before quickly using his strength to switch out the cursed chair for a soft recliner, taken from the living room. He guided the older country into the newly fetched chair.
England gladly stepped forward, enjoying his new treatment from the American that didn't involve insulting his food or proclaiming he was crazy. It was a nice change of pace for the Brit, he could get used to it. But before Arthur could sit down on the cushioned seat, he was disrupted by a faint cry.
"What the bloody hell was that?" England stood up straight again, now curious about the sob.
"Oh, it must have been in your imagination!" America said worriedly, now forcibly pushing on the Englishmen's shoulders to get him to sit down again. "Wouldn't you rather not go all Sherlock Holmes on me? Just sit down and relax, enjoy my amazing and benevolent charity, towards you, a tired soul! Come on man! Did I read the dictionary for nothing last night?" America, though strong, could not contain Arthur as he walked over to the staircase, where the crying seemed to be coming from.
"England?" A soft voice cried from upstairs. A melancholy Canadian was sitting at the top of the stairs arms around his knees. He looked as though he had been crying for a while, his cheeks blotchy and raw. At the sight of Arthur, the young nation stood up and made his way down the steps, walking as if in pain.
"Oh Matthew! What ever happened chap?" A worried Britain opened his arms, inviting the boy to a warm hug, which Canada did not turn down. Alfred stood there in shock, I was so close!
After the long and comforting hug, Canada seemed to calm down a little, raising his palms up to the oldest country. In his palms sat a battered and twisted pair of glasses. Both England and America involuntarily gasped at the sight. Well, I did notsee thatcoming from him. America crossed his arms; he didn't expect his brother to be this convincing of an actor. England took the broken glasses in shaking hands. "Canada, however did this happen?"
"I *sniff* was w-washing my hands *sniff* then suddenly I *sniff, sniff* well, my m-my glasses slipped of my nose, and I-I tried to find them on *sniff*, on the t-the floor by I j-just ended up, I ended up-" With that, Canada dived into another fit of sobs, shaking violently in England's arms. America rolled his eyes.
"It's all going to be alright, Matt, don't worry. We'll go to the eye glass store in just a minute, just let me go to the bathroom, I'll be right back." England rubbed the sobbing nation's back tenderly before starting to head down another hall towards the bathrooms.
"Wait, Artie! What about the time we were gonna spend together, I made tea and everything." America put on his best puppy eyes for the Brit when he turned around.
"America," England looked disappointedly at the free nation before gesturing towards the crying one. "Look at the state your brother is in. I think his needs are ranked a little higher than yours." With that Britain turned on his heel and went into the bathroom.
"Way to milk it, Matty. I didn't know you would stoop so low as to ruin Quebec." America whispered harshly to Canada who had ceased to cry."
"My grandmother taught me the true spirit of the maple leaf. When I play, I play hard." Canada raised his eyebrows at his brother. "Also, a spa treatment, really Alfred? How childish." The northern country regained his pathetic crying when the Englishmen exited the bathroom.
"We'll be gone for a couple hours Alfred."
"How long does it take to get new glasses? It's not like Matt's eye condition is rare. He is just near-sighted for Christ's sake!"
"Yes, but we may get ice cream to cheer him up on the way there." England and Canada left the house, but not before Canada turned his head around towards and stuck out his tongue at Alfred. The front door slammed shut.
"Jerk"
"You're just upset because you didn't think of that idea." said France, who had come up from behind America, sending the latter nation ten feet in the air from fright.
"Geez, I thought you were slender man." The Frenchman scoffed, as the American continued, "Anyways, I would never do something so destructive to Texas. I'm not completely heartless, like that demon you took my brother's body hostage."
"Hmm, want to make out, to you know, console each other? Oh-hoh-hoh-hoh."
"No way! You're still dead to me!"
Wassup Guys! Thank you to all who have read, followed, replied, and favorited this story! I hope you liked this chapter. I'm thinking that this story will probably be from 6-10 chapters when it's finished. All replies are welcome, I'm open to any constructive criticism you got for me! I know some of the characters are OOC, especially Canada, but hey, England does that to people. If you have any requests I'll gladly try to work them into this story! Thank you so much!