Go Your Own Way

by Many A Mistake

Arthur has done some awful things and no matter how much he regrets it or how sorry he is, forgiveness is hard to come by. On the other hand Germany has some cruel things in mind and is more than willing to abuse Arthur's mistakes to have his way, even if it breaks the middle person in the game. DarkHetalia. Warning: Abuse, Dark Themes and some Non-con.

3. Chapter 3 Temptation

Go Your Own Way
Rejection.

Tap, tap, tap…

Throughout the small office the soft ticking of a pen twitchily drumming away against the desk echoed endlessly, filling the usually calm and quiet room with a sense of unease and restlessness.
It felt as though the walls were going to close in at any given moment and trap the occupants inside. Suffocating, that was the air in the dark little room, absolutely claustrophobic.
Still the single occupant of its walls continued to sit in silence, staring down at the work spread out before him and finished hours before.

Every logical nerve in his body screamed that he abandon this idea, that he cast aside these thoughts that had plagued him and yet whenever his hand would linger over the paper he'd been scribbling away at with the intent to scrap it and toss it out…he'd hesitate.
Yet again his hand hovered over the smooth surface of the paper, fingers twitching as again the effort to convince himself against these foolish thoughts deemed futile.
And once more his hand was placed flat against the rough surface of the wooden desk and that pen continued restlessly tapping away.

It was not right. It was not what his country needed, wanted or had even thought of and yet he was fully considering the possibility.
The possibility that he may make a move that all his political knowledge knew was unethical and unrealistic.
Nothing about this idea made sense as a nation…as a proud and honourable country these thoughts were petty and cruel, yet still he harboured them.

Fingers raked back through the loose strands of blonde that had slipped free of their usual neat positioning and teeth were ground together harshly.
It felt as though his body might rip in two. He was a reasonable man by all means and he knew that this plan would not make sense. If he were to launch an attack as sudden and illogical as this he may just begin a whole new world war.

And he was in no way prepared for that.

No it was not war.
The years of quite distaste and polite talk having brewed an immense hatred that had not been able to be vented. The years of blame and regret for what had happened and all those days that he'd been scorned by those eyes and the days that came after where the scorn was hidden behind thin smiles.
No, war was not what drove these ideas in his mind. These thoughts were the product of hatred and past grievances, nothing more and nothing less.

They were petty human emotions and Germany was letting them walk right over his role as a country.

"Mein gott…" Hissing lowly Ludwig cursed himself. "I cannot start a war…I will not be responsible for another disaster like the past. But then how can I…? Argh!" Giving a soft growl of frustration Germany's hand swept across the table, sending the paper flying out onto the floor as he slammed both hands down on the desk, the pen stopped tapping and it seemed Ludwig had reached his limit.

Looking back at the content that had remained on his desk the German's cold blue eyes landed on a familiar picture. He'd had it with him for a while now, about the same time those nasty feelings had begun to formulate a plan.

The picture was simple enough, harmless really. It showed three brother nations together and until just recently Germany had little to no contact with them.
Australia and New Zealand.

As he looked down at the three of them Ludwig's brows knitted together in frustration. If he went through with these dark thoughts then those three would undoubtedly be torn to shreds.
They'd not harmed him and he'd harboured little to no resentment towards them…but their brother was the problem.
That bloody Englishman and the American. They were the source of Ludwig's problems but still they were untouchable, far too powerful to even lay a finger on at this time.

Australia was not.

The little country was rather inoffensive, making friends wherever they could and keeping to themselves. Well that and they had no true neighbouring countries, they were alone, isolated by masses of water.
More to the point they were almost as far as one could get from his own country. Attacking them made no sense, politically it wasn't even an option…and yet Germany had still considered it.
They were in a treaty with both America and England however, making attacking them just about as unreasonable as trying anything on the larger nations so even that idea had been scrapped.

That should have been the end of it.
Australia had nothing of value to Germany, not really and they were not enemies and they were even harder to attack. Ludwig should have forgotten and moved on…yet here he was fretting his hair out of its neat state.

"Why?" Ludwig cursed his unreasonable brain. "Why won't you give up this fool's errand?" Snatching up the photo Ludwig held it up towards the light as he began to pace, just needing to move his body to stop from exploding.

"They have nothing of use. They have done nothing wrong. They are almost untouchable and so far away so why? Why won't you let this go?" Ludwig was aware that he must have sounded half mad but he could take this frustration no longer.

"Why won't you just let them go their own wa-" Germany stopped. His grip on the photo easing off as he slowly lowered it, his eyes trained on one of the boys in the photo. The eldest brother, Jett Kirkland.
Ludwig remembered his encounters with the country, he remembered far back even to a time in which Jett must have forgotten.

"Ah, I see now." Setting the photo back down on the desk Ludwig eased himself back into his seat, feeling more at ease as his brain finally seemed to make that last little link.
Leaning back in an almost lazy fashion Ludwig allowed himself a small smile.

It was true that Australia was not his target, at least not exactly. But what better way to move forward without starting a war than this?
It was sneaky and it was cruel but Ludwig was not kind and he'd not feel bad enough to allow his loathing go just for the sake of kindness.

Slowly Ludwig reached down to where the fallen paper had landed and gathered back up the scribblings he'd done while his mind refused to slow down – scribblings somehow still neater than Italy's gibberish scrawlings – …and sure enough there it was.

"Passive warfare." Ludwig mused with a small sigh of relief. So he was not completely mad it seemed, he did not plan to send their troops marching off to claim the land down under. In fact Ludwig only planned to send one person and who better to trust with this than himself?

He'd not tell anyone.
He'd not breathe a word of it to another soul, country or human until it was done.
And if this idea just so happened to go astray or fail then he'd merely walk away, no harm done.
But if things did go accordingly…then perhaps he'd feel as though he'd finally become even with those Axis powers, he'd finally feel as though he'd paid America and England back in full for their cruelties against him.

And he'd have a lovely new 'friend.'

…

…

"No."

"What?" America asked dumbly.

"Not a chance." Jett answered bluntly before slamming the door shut on America's face. Not a second later the America had thrown himself against the door crying in that whinny voice of his.

"Dude! You got to be there." He complained, trying to open the door but Jett held it shut tightly from his end. "Come on!"

"I told you, no fucking way!" Jett growled, jamming his foot against the wall next to the door to fight against Alfred's insane strength. Damn him, he was such a huge country it wasn't fair that he could have such strength yet be so childish and uncontrolled!

"Why not?" Alfred shouted through the door as the two worked on ripping the poor thing in two. "Everyone else is going to be there!"

"Exactly why I'm not going!" Jett argued back, not seeing why the Yankee was so hell bent on his going. "Why the hell would I want to hang around you guys? I hate being with you for more than five minutes when you're in a meeting, how do you think I'd feel about hanging out with you all in fancy dress? Ya Yankee fuck! Let go of my door!"

"Bro! You're being so uncool!" Alfred was beginning to win with the door but Jett only jammed his other foot against the wall, not realising how ridiculous he would look to anyone on the inside with both feet off the ground while fighting against the larger nation.
"Prussia will be there!"

Jett frowned slightly when Alfred brought up Prussia. His argument about not being a country now proven invalid but at the same time he had to wonder why it was Alfred thought that was a selling point to him. With that knowledge he let go of the door and sure enough Alfred flew back, tearing the damn thing off its hinges as he tumbled down the stairs leading to the house's front step.

Jett stood in the now hollow door way and glared down at the other nation as Alfred groaned and began to pick himself back up.

"So what?" Jett demanded angrily, arms crossed standoffishly as he stared down at Alfred. He was glad that it had been him to answer the door instead of Chris. His little brother would have agreed blindly to go to Alfred's costume party and he'd be roped in without a proper fight.

But without a door…there wasn't much stopping the stubborn American now was there?

"Well since you two got so chummy…" Alfred began to explain himself but naturally Jett cut across him in a violent rage.

"What the hell do you mean chummy? Where'd you hear that?" Jett knew that Prussia had been over a few times in the past months…but they'd just ended up drunk each time till Germany came to claim his elder brother. That was it, there was nothing else to it. They weren't friends, they just wanted to get hammered in good company.

"But you two hang out now…? You're inviting him over aren't you?" Alfred tried meekly to defend his case.

"We don't hang out! I never invited anyone over, ever!" Jett protested vehemently, finding these assumptions to be outlandish.
But…at the same time. It was the first time that Jett had anyone over really. He'd never invited another person over sure, but Gilbert showed up whenever he wanted to and Jett didn't complain too much.

"He…just came over to pick up Gilbird and we decided it'd be 'right to get drunk sometimes." Jett muttered, thinking back to the day he'd called Gilbert to tell him that his bird had finally recovered. He'd hardly even hung up when Prussia arrived, Jett had to let the excited and anxious country in and after that…they'd just sort of made a drinking deal.

"Who told you something so stupid anyway?" Jett asked with a frown, surely Prussia wasn't going around shouting that they were braiding each other's hair or some shit.
Or maybe he was, that guy had some serious issues…

"Well!" Alfred perked up and Jett knew he'd made a mistake asking when he saw the goofy ass grin on his face. "I heard it from France and Francis heard it from Spain who heard it when Romano shouted profanities at…"

"I get it!" Jett snapped, shutting Alfred up with his weird link tale of how the story got back to him. "People are chatty, I get it." Jett was beginning to feel the forming of a headache.

"Whatever, bro you got to come tonight!" Alfred leapt back up, leaning forward with fists made and an excited glint in his eyes. "You can get a kick ass costume! I bet you have a great Indian get up from your place!"

"Aboriginal."

"Huh?" Alfred looked innocently confused, only making Jett crankier.

"It's Aboriginal, you thick, uncultured little-"

"Ah, G'day Alfred!" Before Jett could begin spitting swears at America, Chris appeared in the doorway, still half naked and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Dude you aren't up yet?" Alfred laughed while pointing at the bedraggled Chris.

"It's early. I didn't feel like getting up." Chris shrugged with a lazily grin.

"Dude….it's lunch time." Again Chris only shrugged.

"So whaddya want?" He asked with a yawn. "It's a bit early to head out isn't it? It ain't even dark yet. But hey if you want to grab the esky and head down the beach I can start early." Jett tried to stop it, really he did. Raising his hands to try and shut up the American before it was too late. But it was just not fast enough and out spilled all the information on the invitation that Alfred had stopped by to extend.

"A get up party?" Chris repeated and Jett had to stop himself from slamming his palm into his forehead when he saw the way his little brother's eyes lit up. In the next second he'd turned on his older brother, stance very similar to Alfred's.

"Let's go!" He declared before adding on a childish. "Can we? Bro can we?" Jett sighed heavily, he really couldn't say no to the puppy eyes that his brother dished out.

"….Fine." He growled begrudgingly. "But I'm not getting into some bunny suit or any of that shit." America wooted in victory, jumping in the air with his fist held high.

"Awesome! See ya both there!" With that the energetic little shit took off running down the road. Did he never grow tired…?

"What should we wear?" Chris was already thinking of costume ideas. "Something scary or hilarious?" Jett stepped out of the way as his brother took off running upstairs, no doubt to rip out every item of clothing they had to Frankenstein something together.

Jett on the other hand walked outside and gathered up the broken remains of their door. It was going to be a pain to fix this but the shed should have everything that he needed for it.
So while the audible crashes and shattering sounds came from upstairs where Christian took his joys in destroying their closet Jett calmly went about fixing their house, again.

The shed was all tin and pitch black inside, aside from the small gaps in the sheets of metal. The insides consisted more of dust and cobwebs than it did actual storage. Making his way through the maze of discarded oddities and spiders Jett found himself waist deep in junk.

However if he tried to toss any of it Chris would undoubtedly stop him with teary eyes and some odd reason or another. So he just focused on getting the tools he needed and ignored the obvious cry for cleaning the shed was giving out. All the time he tried not to think about the party. He didn't like social gatherings but Christian loved them so he'd just have to suck it up for a single night.

While he was gathering up everything he needed into a pile in his arms Jett noticed a single little screw fall from the pile and roll under a table. Of course there was always some little piece of crap to go under the table wasn't there? Sighing Jett dumped everything back down and went about trying to find the lost screw.
At first all he found was web and dust bunnies. It was gross but still he kept feeling around until finally he felt the cool surface of the screw. A smile of victory came onto his face.

"Got you…" Jett murmured darkly with a wicked smirk, as if he'd been hunting the little screw.

"This place has seen better days." Jett jumped at the sound of another voice, his head banging against the top of the desk causing him to yelp in pain before growling in anger at his own idiocy.
"Haha, bro did I give ya a fright?" Chris laughed from where he stood in the shed's doorway, leaning against the frame with an easy going smile.

"Shut your damn mouth." Jett grumbled before snatching up the screw and dropping it into the pile with the others. "If you'd just been quiet I wouldn't have banged my head!" Jett continued to growl at his brother while once more trying to gather up the tools.

Yet again that screw began to roll off to the side and Jett just knew it would fall under the table again. However as it slipped off the edge Chris caught it effortlessly as he walked over to Jett's side. Tossing the screw back and forth between his hands.

"Just let me help ya mate. You're being stubborn." Chris smiled while taking half of the tools and this time nothing fell as they made their way back out into the sun. "Ya know if you asked for help a little more you'd bang your head less."

"I'd have less headaches if you shut your trap once in a while." Jett mumbled, almost sulking as he had to accept Chris's help. Chris dumped all of the goods onto the ground by the door and turned to face Jett, frowning as he did.

"What's with that attitude mate? Is it really so bad for me to help out my big brother now and then?" Chris asked while Jett fumed.

"Yes it's wrong!" Jett snapped back as he walked faster to catch up with Chris, damn his long strides! "I'm the big brother so it's my job to help you idiot! You can't go about helping me wh-" Jett tripped over his own feet and almost lost his balance entirely but the soft weight of Chris's arm stopped him and his little brother's hand caught the tools before they could fall.

"You're trying too hard." Chris murmured to him quietly while Jett's face flushed red, embarrassed and angry that he seemed to rely on his brother more and more.

"Shut up!" Jett snapped pushing away from Chris before striding past and dumping the tools with the rest of the things they'd gathered. "I don't need you babying me. I'm the eldest." With that Jett completely turned away from Chris, his shame and anger making him impossible to reason with as he furiously went about fixing the door, probably only denting it more under his rough handling.

For a while Chris just watched his angry big brother, knowing full well he'd be growled at if he approached right then. So he waited until it seemed that Jett might not turn the hammer he was using on the nails on his brother instead if spoken to.

"I was looking around in the closets for costumes." Chris began as he walked over to the working Jett, crouching down by the pile of tools and goods to occasionally hand him something he needed while speaking.

"Yeah and?" Jett asked while keeping most of his focus on the fixing of the door, the damn American had splintered the wood. What a nightmare.

"I found some old dress clothes. I thought it'd be a little funny and a little scary to dress up all formal like. Just thinking about those pinchy shoes instead of my thongs is giving me the shivers." Chris laughed as he chatted away in that carefree way of his. "What do you think? Fancy dress for us?"

Jett wanted to decline but at least they were real clothes. It was better than a pair of plastic fangs or a clown nose.
"Yeah sounds good." Jett agreed causing Chris to grin wider, pleased that his brother was being so agreeable.

"Thanks for this mate." Chris added as an afterthought while handing Jett a screw.

"For fixing the door? You'd better be damned thankful, I'd hate to think what would wander inside without a door. Already got to fix that snake problem." Jett murmured offhandedly, distracted by his work.

"No, I mean for the party." Jett stopped working. "I know you don't like that sort of stuff, thanks for coming with me." Jett was quiet for a second before murmuring softly.

"No sweat mate. Don't even think about it." He tried to go back to fixing the door but Christian just kept talking.

"You've been coming out in public with me more lately as well. I think it's good for you, being cooped up home all day will drive you mad." Jett had to agree with that much, being inside for even more than five hours could send either one of the Australian boys mad with the need for the outdoors.

"Do you think that you'll keep coming out with me?" Christian asked, Jett couldn't miss the small edge of timid hopefulness even if he tried.

"I don't think so mate." Jett responded gently, he didn't want to keep going out because he knew he'd run into England, he knew he'd be forced to interact with his big brother and he didn't want to. Plus he didn't play nice with others in general and he wasn't even a real country anymore, he didn't have a place there.

"Bro." Jett ignored Chris now, not wanting to see the disappointed look he'd no doubt be wearing. His attempts to ignore Chris didn't get him far as the younger nation grabbed the hand that was working on the door and pulled back, forcing his older brother to look down at him and see that sad expression he wore.
"Don't you think you've been hiding for too long?"

"I'm not hiding from anything, what would I-" Jett began to deny the accusations but Chris's hand tightened slightly.

"From big brother." Chris said firmly, his concerned face causing Jett to shut his mouth and just listen.

"I'm not asking you to like Arthur, I'm not even asking you to forgive him or anything like that…but please just talk to him. You can't keep ignoring big brother especially when he's been trying so hard to speak with you. I know he's been calling and writing. You know he asked for you at that meeting and I know he tried to speak to you. Brother…you can't keep running away from him."

Jett wanted to be mad, he wanted to shout and punch his little brother but none of the familiar red rage came up inside of him, instead he just felt helpless. When looking at that concerned and pained expression that Christian wore…Jett couldn't refuse.
He'd never been able to really deny his brother when he made that face.

Turning away from him Jett grit his teeth but didn't pull his arm free, instead he stood in silence. Christian remained crouched; one arm holding his brother's arm and the other rest across his knees as he looked up at the troubled expression Jett wore. He was asking a lot and Chris knew it but he had to ask, this silent fight going on between Arthur and Jett had to end, even if they never returned to a friendly relationship this aggression had to stop.

"I'm not promising shit." Jett choked out. "But…I'll let him talk. When I see him next, if he wants to talk…I'll hear it out." Jett told his little brother finally. All the while he spoke there was one outstanding thought on his mind.
I hope I never see him again. If Jett never saw Arthur again he'd never have to hear him out.

The results to his words however made Jett's mood boost when Chris smiled that bright truly happy smile up at him.

"Thanks mate."

…
…

Jett hadn't really thought this through. When Chris had said it, he'd been too focused on the door and ignoring the younger nation that he'd not registered just what old dress clothes he could have possibly found.
Jett stood staring at himself in the mirror, all dressed up for a party he didn't want to attend. The neat and formal suit he wore was something from the past but it had been so perfectly kept that one couldn't have guessed its true age.

Even the rough Jett had to admit that it was an elegant piece of clothing, it was a pity he had to get it from Arthur. Much like Mattie and Alfred he had also received a few 'proper' clothes from their big brother. This one was possibly Jett's favourite even though he didn't quite like these stuffy clothes.

The suit was mostly black and white, frilly but reasonable. At the very least the cuffs and tie were not as embarrassing as some of the more lacy menswear for its time. Jett could not remember quite when he was given this but he was sure it was seventeenth or eighteenth century.

For the event Jett had slicked back his hair, only letting a few strands of hair free and his usually messy pony tail was done up in a ribbon and looked fairly smooth instead of a spiky mess. Jett hated to think that he might just like the way he scrubbed up but when he stared at himself in the mirror he was, at the very least, not disgusted.

"Well don't you look all proper like!" Chris declared after exiting the bathroom. His hair had been pushed back as well and his dress clothes were similar to Jett's, at least in the formal styling.
His blue jacket was buttoned shut and his cuffs lacked the frills that Jett's had, he looked a little bit newer in style but that was also his. A gift from Arthur as well so naturally it had come sometime after Jett's own attire.

"You look rather posh there yourself." Jett replied nonchalantly while adjusting his tie again. He wasn't concerned about Arthur being there tonight, after all the Englishman wouldn't be caught dead mucking around at Alfred's costume party.

"Are you ready to go?" Jett asked, turning away from the mirror to look at Chris who was holding something scary. Jett flinched back when he saw the make up in his younger brother's hand and quickly backed away with refusal written all over his face.
"No way."

"Come on, it's a costume party, got to look different." Jett cringed by didn't swat Chris away as he placed the concealer over his face. It took a while and all of Christian's skill, just where that skill came from Jett would touch on later, but eventually it was done.
"Let's go!" Not a second after he was finished Chris grabbed hold of Jett's arm and began to tug roughly.

"Hey I didn't even get to see what you did!" Jett exclaimed as he was pulled down the stairs by his overexcited little brother.

"Don't sweat the small stuff. It looks fine and if we're any later than this Zea is going to scold us in that quiet little voice of his!" The two brothers snickered when making fun of their smallest brother's passive nature.

"We might just be on time for once." Jett mused as they left the house, leaving Jett to lock everything up…that is to say shut the front door. When living in the bush they weren't all too worried about intruders, besides everyone knew that the sheer number of snakes, spiders and other deadly creatures gathered in the house were more than protection enough.
Not forgetting their Satan koala, which was oddly lacking from his brother's person that night.

"Where's the creepy koala?" Jett asked while pocketing their keys. "You finally lock it away before it could murder us all?"

"What? No way, he can't come with me when I'm in costume, it'll ruin the look. Besides, his claws rip this type of material too easily. It's not very practical clothing is it?" Chris murmured thoughtfully while pulling at his cuffs.
"I can't run or jump in this get up."

"A grown up shouldn't jump about like a gronk." Jett said offhandedly but not a second cringed at the memory of a similar scolding.
'A gentleman does not run and jump about like a monkey.'

"Whatever, just don't rip it." Jett growled, he'd have to stop getting so worked up over memories like that if he was to keep his deal to Chris. He'd have to try and be civil which meant no more seething over simple memories.
Still the fact that Chris had said something similar to the child version of himself made Jett smile, they were certainly brothers even if their personalities didn't match.

"Do you think that Alfred will have a small gathering?" Chris continued to chat with his brother, oblivious as usual.

"Not a chance. He said everyone didn't he? Besides when has the great heroic America ever done anything small or humble? No, if he has his way there'll no doubt be explosions, hell I bet the idiot will bring out an whole rocket just for ton-"

BANG

The whole world seemed to shake under the two brother's feet as they stumbled to keep their footing. The loud explosive sound echoing long after the initial tremor under the ground. Looking up towards their destination Jett and Chris could both see slowly rising smoke and a reddish tint to the sky.

The two Australian brothers were silent as their brains tried to piece together just what had happened and then they could hear it.
That loud, obnoxious, confident, bellowing laughter carrying across the wind from the sight of the explosion and to the two who immediately realised who it was that laughed so heartily. That damn American…

"Hey mate?" Chris began slowly. "Maybe you shouldn't jinx us like that, ay?"

Jett felt his headache returning with a vengeance.

…
…

Sure enough there it was. In the middle of the yard was the sight of an explosion.
The ground had been hollowed out slightly and debris and dust covered everything surrounding the area. In the middle of the mess a dirt covered Alfred was crouched, still holding onto the blow remains of a firework. Both Jett and Chris had stood on the outskirts of the danger zone and stared at the larger nation, one brother on the verge of laughter and tears and the other with an unimpressed scowl on his face.

"Hey bro that was mad!" America laughed seeing the two watching him. "Hand me another one Mattie!" He held his hand out to thin air and both Jett and Chris had to squint to see the outline of Canada.

"B-Bro…" Matthew stammered meekly. "The last one…" Canada was cut off by his brother's laughter.

"I know! Cool wasn't it? Hey, Hey Aussie dudes!" He called to the two brothers, waving excitedly as he did. "Come help me out ya?"

"Not a chan-"

"Alright!" Jett was in the middle of refusing when Chris jumped from the unburnt grassy area and into the burst circle. Jett groaned, not wanting to see Chris blow to high heavens with that idiot American.

"Chris I don't think you should…"

"You worry too much mate." Chris smiled cheerfully back at him. "I'll do it right, kay?" Jett at least trusted Chris not to kill them all in a fiery explosion, Alfred he wouldn't trust as far as he could spit. So perhaps leaving Chris to baby sit Alfred would be beneficial.

"Hey Mattie." Jett walked around the edge of the burnt circle and over to the half transparent country. Matthew jumped as if shocked he'd been seen by anyone other than France or America.

"Y-Yes?" Mattie responded timidly. They had been brothers but even in the past Jett had intimidated him and that was before he'd earned a scar and become so harsh. Now Matthew wasn't so sure the person in front of him was a friend or not. When Matthew turned to look at him though his body froze, it was as though he'd seen a ghost. Jett frowned, trying to guess why it was he looked so taken back by the sight of Jett. He decided not to dwell on it.

"Try to keep them from murdering us all in their stupidity, 'right?" Resting a hand on Canada's head Jett began to walk towards the house, mercifully still in one piece. "I'm going to go drink. Give me a shout if they take off their fingers or something." Waving carelessly Jett walked away from the three, leaving them to their fun.

I'll probably check on them again soon. Jett decided as he strolled up to the front step. As he stopped, looking up at the large doors he added a small afterthought. And if Alfred kills my brother I'll have his head so fucking help me…

Spitting out a small agitated sigh Jett let himself inside, one hand on the door knob and the other in his coat pocket. The second he stepped inside he saw what Alfred meant by everyone, for once the Yankee hadn't been exaggerating. It was like the world meeting all over again, he saw familiar faces, new and old and even a few he'd never met before.

The costumes were, thankfully, fairly tame. Some countries were dressed finely as he was and others had taken the costume party to more of a Halloween style but thankfully no one jumped out at him and screamed something in a bad Transylvanian accept or approached him in a sheet.
Most of it was in good taste, odd considering it was America's party.
Although Jett did catch a glimpse of someone with pink hair, so perhaps it was still a tad silly.

The party itself was spared no expense. There were servers, live music, drinks being served along with snacks and a fully decked out food table. If America was good for anything it was throwing a well catered party. Everyone seemed fairly happy, even countries that Jett knew to be a handful.

"If he's so busy outside playing in the dirt why even throw a party?" Jett muttered to himself while approaching the bar and food. There were all kinds of dishes from all over the world, thankfully it wasn't all just chips and burgers. Jett could see French food, Italian food and even some Indian dishes.

"As multicultural as America will ever get huh?" Jett chuckled while grabbing some Italian food. If he had to be out in public he might as well get a good meal before going back to their heated up left over's.

"Ve, ve!" A sudden voice to his right caused Jett to jump, when he turned he saw Italy smiling up at him. It actually took Jett a second glance to recognise the Italian. He was dressed up as well, the uniform he wore was darker than usual and it seemed he may have tinted his hair slightly for the event as it was a redder hue. Italy wore a strange little hat with purplish feathers that made Jett almost compelled to reach out touch. But what was most startling was the fact that his eyes were open. Italy looked like himself but at the same time entirely different.

"Ah, it's Jett!" Italy chimed while Jett took in his appearance but despite the change in attire he acted exactly as he always did, some kind of hyper active bunny on caffeine. "I didn't recognise you at all in those clothes!" Italy waved his hands about wildly as he spoke. "I thought you were mean old England. How's the food? Do you like it? It's from my home so you must like it ci? Ci?" Italy jumped around faster than Jett could follow.

"Ah…yeah mate, it tastes great." Was the best response that Jett could manage while his eyes followed those flailing limbs.

"Mate..?" Italy frowned tipping his head to the side as he tried to place what Jett meant. "Ah! I remember, you Australians call friends mate right? So we're friends now? Right, right? We must be friends if you called me that! Ci, be my friend mister Australia, you're not half as mean as you look. Just like Germany…but he can be very scary when I don't train you see…"

Jett's head was spinning, did this guy never stop to breathe? How did he just keep going on and on? What was he even saying…? Something about friends or something of the sort. He wanted to be mates?
Without thinking Jett thrust his hand forward and stuffed the Italian's mouth full of pasta and thank god it worked. He stopped talking as a look of delight came over his face and for a second Jett got blissful silence.

"Ve, that's nice pasta. Oh, you shared with me?" Italy's face broke into a bright smile. "We're good friends if you'll share lovely pasta with me! Share with me some more?"

Suddenly Jett found himself at a table with the strange country. He'd hardly uttered a word, not given a chance to speak with the rapid pace that the Italian moved. But oddly enough Jett wasn't agitated; in fact he found some peace in this fast speaking little brat. He was kind and even if it was childish naivety it was a nice break from the usual political slyness that he was most often involved with.

"What's the food like at your place Australia?" Italy asked, those being the first words slow enough for Jett to catch.

"Mostly stolen." Jett admitted with a shrug. When he thought about their trademark food he didn't feel like bragging so much. "We mostly eat other people's food. England's food wasn't exactly enough for us and there's only so much you can do with bush tucker."

"It must have been hard." Italy suddenly looked like he was going to cry. "Eating that nasty, awful English food and only a babino." Jett's hands were taken into Italy's own as he looked up at him with a heart broken expression. "You should eat nice food all the time. Ve! You can eat lots of food from my place if you like, I'll feed you lovely pasta!"

How could someone hate this guy? Even though he made Jett's head hurt and he knew he shouldn't like this fast talking little guy at all, Jett kinda felt inclined to be friendly. After all if he was that agitating happy he didn't want to see him upset.

"That'd be nice. Thanks Italy…because we're….mates?" Jett tried, not sure what he was meant to say but it did the trick, Italy's smile returned as bright as before.

"Hey mister Australia you're really not as scary as I remember. You're nice, let's get along!" Actually now that Jett thought about it Italy had always hid from him when he was around but that night he'd approached him. What had changed…?
The scar!

Jett realised very suddenly why it was that Italy seemed more comfortable. He turned quickly to the table, picking up one of the metal plates to see his blurry reflection but sure enough…his face was clear. He looked younger and ten times less intimidating, even Jett had to remind himself that it was him in that reflection. His brother sure knew his makeup, Jett would find the correct way to tease him with that later.

"Sorry…" He said finally, setting the plate down. "I didn't realise I had been scaring you before." Jett didn't feel well. He didn't like that he wasn't himself but he hated the idea he'd frightened this harmless little guy even more. Jett also assumed this was why Mattie seemed so surprised when looking at him earlier.

"Ve, no problemo Mr. Australia! We're besta friends now!" Italy lunged for Australia all too suddenly, shocking the other nation as his arms wrapped around him tightly. Jett wasn't a fan of hugs but hell this guy was just too childishly kind to push away so gradually his arms wrapped back around Italy, awkwardly. Hardly five minutes and already Italy was claiming the best friend role huh? He was crazy…in a good way…maybe.

"Italy!" The two broke away at the sound of the shouted call. Looking up Jett saw Germany appear looking around for Italy of course. He caught sight of the two of them and for an instant Jett swore that the German's whole body turned to stone, it was just for a second and then he was freely moving again.

"Feli! I've been looking for you for at least ten minutes now." Germany was growling as he strode towards the smiling Italian.

"Ah Luddy. I made a friend!" Germany's angry scolding's stopped as he looked between Jett and Feliciano. He looked, understandably, surprised. It was well known that Jett didn't make friends but between Italy and Prussia it seemed he was unwillingly gaining a lot of them as of late.

"I see…" Germany's voice was softer now before he gave a sigh and walked to Italy's side. "I brought you the drink you wanted. Next time if you wander off while I'm getting you something I'll use it to beat you." Italy began to cry out in fear and Jett could only sit back in wonder and watch their strange exchange.

Much like Jett it seemed that Germany didn't have the ability to hate Italy's childish notions even though by all rights Germany should have been the most infuriated by them. Instead they'd become best friends, to the point that Germany would seek out Italy in a crowd and go to fetch drinks for him. It was almost like….
Without thinking Jett asked bluntly.

"Are you two gay?" Germany damn near choked.

"N-Nein!" For such a serious and controlled nation Germany sure did turn red fast. "It's not like that at all…"

"Ve, gay?" Italy mused, putting a finger to his lip before smiling his usual smile. "We're very happy, ci! We're best friends!"

"Feli, that's not what he…" Germany began to explain in a distressed voice but seeing the oblivious smile on his friend's face the blonde nation gave up fairly quickly. "Never mind…"

While Germany and Italy spoke Jett took notice of Germany's strange clothes as well. He wore something very similar to his uniform but it was messy, something he'd never allow in his true attire. The jacket hung loosely around his shoulders and his white singlet was not at all military worthy. On his head he wore a kind of cap that almost completely obscured his eyes and while Jett had lost a scar it seemed that Germany had gained one on his cheek.
So even the uptight Germany could get a little dressed up, well at least that made Jett feel more at ease about his own clothes.

"Ah, if you'll excuse me. I have to go to the bathroom." Jett excused himself, standing from his seat giving a small nod to the two nations.

"Bye-bye Australia!" Italy waved enthusiastically after him and Jett gave an awkward little wave back as he made his way through the crowd.

"He really is a weird nation." Jett laughed to himself as he left the party room and began the search for the bathroom. Thankfully there were multiple bathrooms and it didn't take Jett too long to find what he needed. All the while he thought about what he'd said to Chris, about being social and making friends.

Perhaps it wasn't so hard. If everyone was as friendly and willing as Italy then maybe he could tolerate one or two friends. Prussia could make a good mate and Italy might actually prove to be a light hearted friend. Despite the years of hardening himself Jett found himself smiling in an almost giddy way.
It was foolish and naive he knew but all the same Jett was becoming more open to the prospect of new friends and a new life. He'd spend more time with Prussia and Italy, he'd let Chris drag him places and he'd stop growling at everyone that passed him.

While he thought this over and washed his hands in the sink Jett's gaze caught his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. When he looked at his face without the scar in sight the usual mix of uncertainty and disgust returned in him. Would Italy avoid him again with a scar on his face? Was it really alright to cover it or was that just hiding who he was? It was all rather troubling so Jett opted to ignore it at least for that night.
Don't sweat the small stuff right?

Laughing at himself, Jett dried his hands, pushed back his hair and adjusted his tie before exiting the bathroom, right into Arthur's chest.

Jett's brain froze briefly before being thrown into chaos. He'd been so sure that Arthur wouldn't be there, that he wouldn't waste time with this sort of nonsense that he'd been completely at ease in his false sense of security. The two male nations were both frozen, too startled to even step away from one another at first.

When Jett's mind finally cooled off enough to process logical thought his gut reaction was to high tail it out of there but the second he began to turn away Arthur's hand latched onto his arm, pulling him back.

"Hey, hold up a second there." Arthur urged, none of the anger from their last encounter noticeable in his tone. "I didn't realise you'd be here tonight."

Jett grit his teeth together as he angled his gaze away from Arthur, this wasn't going well. He was just about to yank his limb free when he remembered Chris's pleading face. He'd promised to hear Arthur out…he'd said he would but Jett hadn't thought it'd be that damned night!

He'd actually caught sight of him earlier without knowing it, he wore brightly coloured pinks, blues and white. The cheerful clothing not at all suiting the grumpy nation, even his hair had fallen victim to the pinkish shade, of course Jett hadn't recognised him when he'd caught a glace of him across the room.
Who could expect him to when his usually so serious big brother looked like a clown? Jett wished he could enjoy seeing it but with Arthur staring at him it was impossible to take any enjoyment out of the situation.

Arthur was thrown off when Jett didn't immediately shove him away but took it as an encouraging motion. Perhaps he'd finally calmed down since their last meeting and was ready to hear reason, so the Englishman continued.

"I was hoping you'd take me up on that offer. Of having a chat, some tea a nice sit down and a good talk?" Jett could hear the eagerness in his brother's words but he still didn't budge. He couldn't say no but he sure as hell didn't want to say yes.

"America's…" He choked out finally. "This is…America's house. No tea." He felt like a robot, hardly able to form the words he wanted to speak around the English nation.

"Ah, yes quite right…" England murmured thoughtfully as he stood straight but suddenly his gaze was pulled down to Jett's clothes and it was Arthur's turn to freeze in shock.

"Those clothes…?" Jett flinched realising that Arthur had recognised the clothes and he quickly jerked away from him, turning to face the other way. Arthur was sharp however and quickly took notice of how he hid his face. "Turn this way. Come now, face me. You're being rude." Jett ignored him, hoping his silence would be enough to deny the request.

It was not.

Jett felt familiar cold hands taking hold of his face and angling his head back towards Arthur. A growl formed in his throat but he could not pull away, a hand resting on Arthur's arm as if to stop him but ultimately it proved to be useless, he had no strength to escape.

Arthur's green eyes searched his colonies face and then widened when they noticed the lack of a scar and for the first time the Englishman's heart visibly ached in his gaze. Even Jett with all his blinding hatred could see it and in the next moment warm arms had enveloped his form.

Jett's wide eyes stared off uselessly into the space over Arthur's shoulder as he was held by the elder nation. What was this? Some sort of apology? Jett couldn't process just what it was that his big brother was trying to pull.

Was he going to teach him another lesson?

The thought caused Jett to snap, his palms pushing flat against Arthur's chest, forcing the elder away from him. Arthur stumbled back and was about to start raging before he noticed the protective way that Jett held himself…so that was what he thought? Clearing his throat Arthur worked on remaining calm.

"I'm sorry, that was too forward of me. It's just…your face and those clothes." He spoke slowly, looking at the face that held no visible scar and was dressed in the clothes he had bought as a gift for his younger brother…it made Arthur feel weak with nostaliga. "I'm sorry, I do not know what came over me. Please, I implore you still take me up on that offer."

"Why?" Jett croaked. "What could you possibly have to say to me over tea and scones…?"

"There is a lot that I wish to speak with you about." Arthur told him softly. "Please just allow me to…"

"No!" Jett snapped without thinking. "I promised I'd hear you out sure but…this is too much. Don't just touch me so carelessly you bastard! After all you did there's no way I'd want you embracing me!"

Arthur cringed at the cruelty in Jett's voice but did not respond past that. He'd gotten dressed up as a fool just to come and see if he could catch Jett. He'd lied about not expecting him of course, he didn't want to scare him off after all but even now it seemed useless. The boy was just as stubborn as always.

"Jack please I…" Jett's harsh glare made England stop and despite the bad taste it left in his mouth Arthur corrected himself. "Jett please, all I ask is that you give it a chance, that you give me this chance."

Jett hesitated when Arthur used the name he'd chosen. He could not remember a time before then that he'd used it…was Arthur really so desperate to reach out to him? It made Jett frustrated that the man who'd done so much wrong could appear so victimised. Gritting his teeth together and clenching his fists Jett tried to cool his head, he'd promised Chris.

Promised Chris….
I won't break anymore promises.

"F-Fine." Jett choked out. "I'll hear you out. But not here, not now and never at your place for tea, got it?" Jett felt some confidence return at he pointed at Arthur. "If we're going to be talking it'll be over the phone. I don't want you in touching distance of me when we're communicating. Got it?"

Arthur tried not to let his anger get the best of him, their shared temper was what had caused this so he took a few deep breathes and nodded.
"It's a deal." With that Jett took his escape, walking past England as quickly as he could and back towards the party. There he'd kept his word.
He didn't have to do any more than that!

As Jett took off into the crowd of humans and nations alike Arthur was left with fists clenched and barely controlled anger. He was frustrated, after so many years he felt as though he was getting nowhere with his colony, if things continued this way he may just have another problem as he did with Alfred. He'd not lose another colony.

"Damn it!" Arthur hissed, slamming his fist into the wall by his side before slumping against it, his breathing choked and ragged as Arthur struggled to ease the raging, barely controlled emotions in his body. What was he going to do if he couldn't even have a conversation with his own little brother?

Jett was having similar thoughts at the time, though rather moving in the opposite direction.
What was he going to do if he had to have a conversation with his big brother?
The thought made him shudder as he pushed his way through people, he couldn't leave yet because really he'd only just arrived, it'd been little under an hour and the night was young. Meaning Chris wouldn't be persuaded into leaving for the world.

So Jett decided to do what he'd planned to that whole night, get drunk off his ass.

Making his way over to the bar Jett breathed a sigh of relief at the glorious sight of alcohol. Strong, weak and everything in-between all at his fingertips. Wines from France and Italy, beer from Germany and hell even some Vodka from Russia. Although when he saw that it really came from Russia with a little smile face drawn on the side and everything he decided not to try his luck with the possibility of the scary nation having poisoned it.

Seating himself down at the bar Jett took his time choosing what he'd start with. If he had the time why not enjoy slowly getting drunk until he couldn't walk straight? No need to rush pleasure.

"Well, well." Jett immediately recognised the sound of that voice, the sound of the word well coming out more like 'vell' with that accent.
"Looks like you read my mind." Prussia sat down next to Jett, a beer glass already in hand and his cocky grin plastered over his face.

"Where's your rapist gang?" Jett asked in his usual cold way but he couldn't help but give Prussia some special treatment. He was here to drink with him again, it seemed Gilbert was always close by with a case full of that lovely stuff whenever something bothered Jett.
It was almost too convenient the times Prussia would show, always after some sort of fight with Chris or dark moment with England…Jett might have been creeped out by this but it had to be coincidence. Prussia didn't strike him as magical or a stalker….much of a stalker. Maybe he was a magical stalker…? No that was getting a little too ridiculous.

"Hey! The term is 'bad touch' and we're not a gang, we're a trio!" Prussia defended him and his weird ass friends, only causing Jett to bark out a laugh.
"What?" Prussia asked, eyes narrowed. "What's so funny?"

"Usually people would say something like 'I'm not a rapist', not correct the terminology." Jett told him while his first drink was set down before him. Something light to start of his gradual intoxication. Prussia laughed himself but denied nothing.
"Filthy pervert." Jett jabbed before downing his beer.

"Ah keseseses." Gilbert chittered away before taking a drink of his own. Jett took notice of Gilbird sitting on his head and smile faintly when the little yellow ball of features bounced its way down onto Prussia's shoulder just to chirp at him.

"Hey there little guy." Jett cooed, reaching out to scratch the little bird's head. "Not about to choke down anymore of that British food are you? Brave il' thing." Gilbrid chirped at him but almost responded like a cat when scratched on the head, leaning against the gently probing finger.

"Ark! That isn't food, it's death on a plate." Gilbert grumbled as he slammed his beer glass down, apparently still nursing an injured pride from the outcome of his first attempt eating scones.

"Scones aren't exactly arsenic you know." Jett responded in a snide comment, wanting to poke at that injured pride a little more.

"Oi." Gilbert turned to Jett, deadly serious for a moment. "Scone or Scone?"

"What…?" Jett looked at him, wondering just how much he'd been drinking before that beer.

"Well which is it? Scone or Scone?" His accent must have made it hard but Jett was able to figure out he was simply asking which why it was pronounced. With emphasis on the 'O' sound or not. Naturally Jett snickered and the conversation escalated into the usual tossing back and forth of swears and degrading insults. Mates should act no other way towards one another.

After a solid hour of their slow decent into drunkenness and constant back and forth jibs, Jett and Gilbert were perfectly at ease in their usual drunken meeting.
After a particularly poor choice in drink and a small mistake, Jett burned the back of his throat with Russian vodka and ended up chocking. Giving Gilbert a good laugh at his expense, this ended with Jett trying to throttle Gilbert in defence of his manly pride.

"Kese…ese." Gilbert still laughed through his choking. "You look like such a wimp in those clothes!" Gilbert told him once his throat was clear of those grabbing hands. "You look like that loser Austria!"

"If he heard you saying that he'd have a fit." Jett told him with a sly grin, all thoughts of strangling the albino gone from his mind. For the time being.

"Ah yeah. That whole now kangas in Austria bit right?" He asked thoughtfully, no doubt wondering how he could get under Austria's skin with this.

"Kangaroos mate." Jett corrected him while trying to climb up onto the stool he'd been perched for the last hour before knocking both of them to the ground. However his body betrayed him and he felt the world tipping despite his not moving.

"Ah crikey…" He muttered, knowing that he was about to collapse and sure enough he felt his body toppling down and dizziness blinding him. Damn his drinking…damn his need for drunken bliss. For a brief second he saw Prussia reaching out as if to catch him but only succeeded in getting knocked down with him. Great now they'd both end up as a drunken mess on the ground. Perfect.

Thankfully his head didn't snap painfully against the floor and he didn't feel any kind of rough impact, instead he felt something firm but fairly soft catch his useless sack of a body. Whatever had saved him also ended up on the ground though under the weight of both drunken Australia and Prussia.

Groggily Jett looked up, his head still spinning as he tried to make sense of why he hadn't been punished by gravity for his drinking. When the world stopped shaking and churning Jett found himself looking at the agitated and concerned face of Germany.
The German had caught both Prussia and Australia, protecting them from harm but still unable to keep them from falling completely.

Jett lay against Germany's chest and Prussia on his, it must have looked funny and if he'd been sober Jett would have been furious but thankfully beer solved that problem and instead he was laughing.

"You're….such a light weight! Keseses…" Gilbert slurred with a dopy grin on his face. Jett couldn't help but laugh as well but somewhere in the back of his hazy mind Jett's logical self-argued that was impossible. He'd drunk more and faster in the past and been able to walk just fine but here he was, a complete mess and hardly even able to see straight.

"I'm no...light weight…" Jett grumbled, pushing his palm against Gilbert's face as if he wanted to mash his face in like clay. "Bastard…"

"You two…" The two idiots turned at the sound of Germany's angry voice and found he was working hard not to throttle them both.
Jett felt Prussia's arms tighten around his torso slightly when he looked towards his little brother. When he looked back at Prussia to complain he saw a strange expression on his face, it was almost angry and might have been considered scary if it was not marred by his drunken state. Germany's expression wasn't all that much kinder.
Were the brother's fighting?

"Bruder…you." Prussia began to growl something but their little topple hadn't gone unnoticed. In fact it seemed most of the party was now focused on them.

"What the bloody hell are you wankers doing!?" Came the all too familiar enraged shout, no doubt preparing to scold whoever had brought that tone about.
England appeared through the sea of peering and murmuring faces, glaring towards the three fallen men, hands on his hips. If seeing Jett in the mix fazed him in the slightest he didn't let on.

"Look at you. You drunkards are making a complete mess of everything. Acting like some sort of-" This was going to go on for a while, Jett was sure he'd pass out before England finished ranting. That was until something caught Jett's attention.

"I should have expected such behaviour from Prussia and Jack but Germany you should know better than that." England was in the middle of reprimanding Germany when Jett noticed it. Germany, Prussia, those were countries names but he referred to Jett by human name, not even his own human name!

Drunk and dizzy he was Jett stood up, swaying and staggering as he tried to find his footing. Germany made a move like he was going to stop him but instead just settled for making sure he didn't fall flat on his face.

"Australia." Jett grumbled, able to shake some of his drunken mind into working properly. At least when rage clouded his eyes more than alcohol he was able to clear some of his mind. England stopped shouting when Jett stood, seeming to realise his mistake and quickly began to backpedal.

"R-Right you're quite right lad. Australia, what I mean to say…" It was no good, Jett was drunk and still sore from their earlier encounter, reaching forward he grabbed a fist full of the Englishman's dicky clothes, finding that the bright colours insulted him in this drunken state.

Why was his oh so serious brother dressed as though he smiled cheerfully and baked cupcakes? He shouldn't wear bright colours…it was wrong. Disgusting.
"I hate it…" Jett growled to himself and the grip tightened. "These clothes…." Gritting his teeth together Jett's strong grip tore the pink fabric, shredding it straight down Arthur's chest.

"J-Jack, this is outrag-" England began, his face turning bright red. Nakedness was more a trait for France than England and Francis did seem to be quite thrilled by the half nakedness of England, in the back Jett could have sworn he saw the pervert grabbing for a camera.

"Wrong!" Jett growled angrily. "Quit saying it! My names Jett. J-E-T-T." Somewhere in the back of his head Jett was aware he was just being drunkenly violent but he didn't try to hit his brother, just shake him violently and shred his awful clothes.

He couldn't hit Arthur.
Right?

"Australia, dude!" Jett herd the sound of the American's approaching. Next he felt hands on his shoulders, no doubt Alfred trying to pry him away from Arthur.
Him, Jett could punch alright!

He turned to do just that shouting some profanity at the Yankee but his balance was off and the drunken haze was beginning to take effect again. His punch missed by a mile, not even coming close to America's face and he began to fall back towards the ground.
Ah come on….give me a break….
Jett thought, feeling sick as his stomach began to do flips, he'd throw up if the world tilted anymore.

For the second time that night something firm stopped him from collapsing and injuring his sorry ass, this time he didn't have to check to know it was Germany. Jett was hicing and choking out a constant string of unintelligible vulgarities but his world was getting darker.
Jett had been around the drunken block enough times to know he was going to pass out for sure now.

"Please excuse my mate." Jett's word was beginning to twist and shift into something almost unrecognisable but his ears still picked up Chris's voice. It was a familiar tone. Chris was laughing but it was apologetic, the type of voice you used when your friend was being a clown in public…yeah that was a fair fit.
"He's usually much better at holding his drink…..I'm sure he…..damages….Arthu..….rother…" The voice became more and more distant to Jett and his eyes began to slide shut.

The German's arms that held him almost felt like stone for all the trouble they had holding him up. Jett almost hurled right there in his half conscious state when he was lifted up bridal style. How utterly humiliating.

"Ah…please mate….no need…..I can…." Jett heard his brother talking almost nervously, trying to reason with someone.

"Nein." The single reply came across clearly in Jett's brain. Germany was speaking with Chris now, what was being said he couldn't be sure but it sounded like all business.
Finally his body decided to pack it in and Jett knew he'd be copping it tomorrow but for now the blissfulness of sleep took him over and he hadn't even lost his lunch.

One of the best drunken pass outs yet.

…
…

Chris had arrived with Alfred to find Jett attacking Arthur. When Chris had asked him to talk with their big brother he'd meant speak with him, not pound his face in. Still it was obvious was from step one that he was drunk.
Jett's face was red, he was slurring and stumbling and his eyes were even half lidded, he almost seemed unconscious on his feet for all the good he was in that state.

Thankfully he'd also been a useless fighter when drunk so Alfred was never in danger of being hurt by Jett when pulling him away from Arthur. Too bad the same couldn't be said for Jett who was in plenty of danger to himself. Sure enough he'd tried to strike Alfred and just fallen and mercifully been caught in time. Chris had been too far to grab his falling brother and thought for sure no one else could or would….except for that man.

Chris watched as his passed out brother was gathered up in the German's arms. Chris thought he could read people fairly well, he'd always thought that honesty was a good trait but also knew that it didn't hold much weight between countries so he'd learned quickly to read people.
And Germany….?
Well he was getting nothing.

Germany's face was obscured under that hat most of the party but even without it Germany's stony face could hide even the strongest emotions. Chris had never quite known how to feel about the other nation, but hell he'd stopped Jett from flattening his face twice now. So that should have made Chris certain that his intentions were truly only to help this drunken fool.
Yet he didn't get that vibe at all.

Perhaps he was paranoid? He'd rarely been suspicious of others or known to judge them quickly or at all. Yet his eyes stared at Germany's passive face with distrust and uncertainty. Something about him…was wrong to Chris. And to be honest he'd never felt it before.
He and Germany had done trade and even some warfare but he'd never felt as uneasy around him as he did now. What had changed?

It was then that Christian's eyes landed back on the blacked out form of Jett that unconsciously curled against the person who held him.
Chris's jaw clenched and his fists tightened. What was this feeling? It was unusual for Chris to feel any kind of negative emotion but right then…he felt a crushing sense of unease.
Could Chris be afraid that Germany would hurt Jett? Why would his brain even think that way?

Jealousy?
A little voice suggested to Chris.
No, it couldn't be that. Chris had no reason to fell jealous over his brother or Germany.

Fear?
It tried again.
Fear that maybe Germany would hurt Jett? That wasn't right either, he'd saved him twice that night and seemed to be prepared to do it again.

Then perhaps…
The voice paused before continuing.
It's both?
Fear that he's too close to Jett. Too interested lately….fear that there's a reason to become jealous?

Christian didn't like this. He didn't like this serious feeling in his chest. He just wanted to go and lay in the sun and go swimming with Jett at the beach. He wanted to hit cane toads with cricket bats and make fun of Zea together.
He didn't want to think about anything sad ever. He would not become a distrustful country or a cruel country. Chris shook his head roughly and smiled, his bright cheerful smile.
He's be the country that was friendly and warm to everyone no matter their history.
That was who Christian was, he was that Aussie spirit so he'd not allow his mind to get side tracked with darker thoughts.

Germany was telling Arthur that he'd take care of the drunken Jett when Chris came over with his apologetic smile. Of course he apologised over and over again to Iggy who kept threatening to never let the royals visit them again if they couldn't control themselves. Laughing Chris tried to ease his big brother's embarrassment and anger. However he noticed Germany and Jett fairly quickly, it looked like Germany was organising to leave early.

"Ah, please mate." Chris smiled as he approached Germany. "There's no need for you to go outta your way for my brother. I can take care of him from here so please don't stress yourself." Chris tried to be polite and thankful, after all Germany seemed to be looking after Jett before he arrived. Whatever doubts he had were no doubt wrong and he'd only be insulting Germany if he acted on them.

"Nein." Chris almost flinched. Germany stood like a statue with Jett in his arms, almost like he weighed nothing at all and Chris knew that wasn't the case at all. Just how strong was this guy? The answer hadn't been harsh or delivered in a way that could be considered even rude. It was polite and Germany seemed to be trying to reassure Chris though he didn't come across as an awfully comforting.

"Mein bruder is no doubt to blame for this mess." He continued to explain after a brief pause, seeing the startled expression on Australia's face. "As a form of apology for that I'll take care of him. Once he is sober and back to his usual state I'll apologise to him in mein bruder's place. Gott knows Gilbert won't do it. Please allow me to make this small gesture of regret and amends."

He wanted to say no.
Chris really did but…Germany seemed to want to make this right quite badly and Chris knew a fair amount about the damage a drunken big brother could cause, so perhaps they could find some common ground there if nowhere else.
Eventually Chris smiled again, giving Germany his approval.

"Ay mate. Just tell me when you want me to take the poor guy off your hands, 'right?" Chris opted for a causal approach, after all this was nothing more than a kindness being shown towards his idiot of a brother.
"I'll come and pick him up right away."

"Ja. Danke." Chris blinked, it actually took him a good few minutes after Germany had turned away for him to understand he'd said 'Yes. Thank you.' Chris had never exactly learnt German and had very little contact with him and as a result had ended up about as informed as America was on the German's way of speaking.

When he finally wrapped his brain around it Chris had turned with his mouth open to say something to Germany who had already begun to take his leave. Chris stopped speaking as he watched Germany's form vanishing with Jett. Chris felt a shudder run up his spine as he stared.
Why could he not shake this uneasy feeling that coiled in his stomach?

Why was it whenever he looked at Germany's cold eyes he felt as though…he might just been swallowed alive by the man.

"Ah, lay off already." Chris grumbled, scratching at the back of his head as he scolded his own brain. "You'll ruin the firework display if you keep fretting over strange feelings."

Bang!

Speaking of which. Chris's grin was born anew at the sound of the popping and crackling of sparks in the air. Looks like Alfred finally got his firework display working!
All serious thoughts were tossed aside and Chris grabbed himself a beer and went out to lay on the grass and enjoy the fireworks.
Don't sweat the small stuff right?

…

…

It was soft….and warm….and good.
Jett curled into the soft warmth that was the heavenly bed he was laying in. Sure his head was aching and his mouth tasted of ashy death but at least wherever he was lying wasn't the ground or some sort of liquid.
He'd woken up in far worse.

Now if only the sun would shut up.
Groaning Jett's arm came up to protect his eyes from the greeting rays of light that were hell bent on destroying him in this hung over state. No matter how he angled his arm however the light managed to find its way to him, ruining his chances of remaining in the bliss of being half asleep.
He didn't want to wake up, the blankets and pillows were so damned comfy and Jett didn't want to deal with a morning hang over.

Actually, since when was his bed this soft, warm and spiderless….?
Come to think of it since when was his bed not occupied with Chris and squishy beyond belief?
The thought made Jett's eyes shoot open and his hand quickly searched for the form of his sleeping brother but found nothing. With his blurry vision Jett began to notice that he wasn't in the dusty, filthy room that had been his home and was instead in some place full of light and clean as a whistle.

Jett sat in the bed for a solid minute, just blinking at the strange place he'd woken up. It would have made sense if he woke up at America's or even in a back street somewhere but…he didn't know this heavenly setting.
The white light assaulted his eyes, the silk like bed sheets made him feel dirty and the lack of dangerous animals and mould growing on the walls was somewhat distressing.

"Oh god I died." Jett groaned. "I died and I've gone to hell."

"I apologise. I didn't realise that my home would be hellish for you." Jett jumped at the deep voice from his side. The jump cost him however and he gave a low groan before flopping back down on the bed, he would be sick if he moved too quickly.

"Careful, you're still not well." The calm voice warned him and the sound of a door clicking shut caught Jett's attention. Slowly this time he looked towards the owner of the voice.

"Ah…Germany." He remembered the blonde nation saving his sorry ass a few times last night. "Should have guessed." Sighing Jett tried to sit up but found Germany pressing a gentle palm against his chest, urging him to slow down even further.

"I'm not a kid, I don't need to be babied." Jett snapped without meaning to. He was hung over and embarrassed but he didn't want to insult the guy that had dragged his sorry ass to bed. Seeing Germany's surprised expression Jett immediately backtracked, not meaning to be such an ungrateful little shit.
"Sorry…" He muttered. "Hung over ya know?"

"Ja." Germany's expression softened slightly before he set something down on the bed side table. A plate of freshly cooked food and what looked like painkillers on the side. Oh he was a fucking angel!
"Please take it slow, when you're feeling a little better come see me. I'll be downstairs in the living room." Germany was fairly blunt and left without another word to Jett, leaving him to relish in the gift that was drugs.

The food was good and the pills even better. Before long Jett was able to get his sorry self out of bed and walk around fairly competently. Though his body felt strange.
A hang over was nothing new to Jett but being drunk so quickly from so little was and being this hung over was even more unusual. Not to mention the way his flesh seemed to tingle, almost like it was numb.

"I ain't no light weight." Jett growled to himself while scoffing down the last piece of toast. "The hell did I drink that was so strong last night?" No matter how much he thought about it nothing came to mind, not even the Russian vodka he'd accidently ingested. Giving up his memory searching Jett took more time to look around the room.

It was still insanely clean and organised but not as bare as he originally thought. Some pictures hung on the walls and there was a dresser and work desk against the wall. In fact it was a rather lovely room, almost like a high class hotel but then again Jett wasn't the best judge. If it had a mattress and roof he'd sleep in it comfortably.

"Does Prussia live in this sort of room?" Jett couldn't imagine the awesome Gilbert living in something so plain or so organised…but at the same time he and Germany did seem to share a need for organisation so perhaps it was clean. He was fairly sure it'd at least be better than his own room. Chris never put his clothes away either so it wasn't like it was just-
Chris.

"Ah shit." Jett groaned, immediately pushing himself off the bed and walking to the door. His world did slip off to an angle slightly when he moved too rapidly but he seemed to be able to at least keep his balance now.
Jett knew he'd left Chris at the party and he was worried that maybe America blew him up with the fireworks or he also got smashed and didn't have anyone to drag his ass home, Jett had to go and check on him.

When he opened the door to his room Jett found that the rest of the house was just as organised and vermin free. This began to annoy Jett, as he walked his way down the halls be found the urge to tip paintings on their side and kick something into the corner almost unbearable. As he walked past a window Jett dragged his finger along its edge hoping to collect at least some dust on his fingers. Nothing.

"Would it kill them to let some spiders in here?" Jett snapped. This place was too spotless, too organised and it was making him feel trashy in his plain singlet and baggy pants.
Wait…what?

Jett stopped to really look at himself for the first time. The flashy clothes were gone and his hair was a messy again, free of its ribbon from the night before. Instead he was wearing a modest white top and plain black pants, clothes that he did approve of but was sure weren't his.

"Did someone…change me?" Jett thought out loud, unable to wrap his brain around the idea that someone may have stripped and redressed him. Just thinking about it caused his face to slowly fill up bright red. His hands shook at he held the unfamiliar clothes tightly in his balled up fists. Had he seriously been so drunk that someone had done this for him like he was an infant? The embarrassment and shame of the idea was crippling the usually stubbornly proud country.

"Ja." Jett, for a second time, jumped at the sound of the smooth voice despite knowing exactly who it was this time around. The voice came from a door to Jett's right. The hall only had a few doors and it was obviously larger than Jett's home but the door the familiar accented voice came from was slightly ajar, obviously the way to the living room.
Sure enough after the reply the door swung open fully, revealing the blonde haired German. He was dressed properly, wearing his uniform even though they were in his home, did he only feel comfortable in it?

"You'll have to forgive me but the clothes you were wearing…they looked as if they were special to you. I didn't want to take the chance of them being ruined. Thankfully you're about the same size as mein bruder." Germany explained, not once appearing embarrassed about his actions. He pushed the door open wider, offering Jett entrance to the room. Inside was yet another lovely room, it was organised and clean just as the others but at least the furniture looked soft and well used.
Jett was sure he would have exploded if the living room was as sterile and stiff as the halls.

As Jett stepped past Germany into the room he didn't notice the way that the German casually locked the door and spoke to cover up the sound of the soft click when the door shut and sealed.
"Gilbert did offer to help but…" Germany trailed off as he stepped away from the door once it was locked, that should at least keep Gilbert out of his hair if he was to wake up. Ludwig wasn't going to waste this chance. He had wanted to move slowly at first but after last night's display Germany was convinced he'd be able to achieve his goal more quickly.

"No!" Jett's arms immediately crossed in an 'X' shape over his chest. There was no way he was going to let that vital region snatching bastard see him in the nude. "I mean…it's better that he didn't help, ay? He was drunk to after all." Jett laughed rubbing the back of his head as he began to feel sheepish.
He'd troubled Germany so much the night before with his behaviour and all because he was feeling sorry for himself.

"Germany I…" Suddenly the blonde raised his hand to silence Jett.

"Please take a seat. It'll be more comfortable if we talk there and there is no need for you to apologise. Mein bruder caused this I have no doubt." Jett was lead to the comfortable seat by Germany before the nation took the seat opposite him. The room was fairly dim, the curtains mostly drawn shut only allowing a bit of that ungodly bright light to slip in, Jett found it did wonders for his hang over headache and wondered if Germany had drawn the blinds for just that reason.
For a second Jett felt compelled to force all the blame onto Gilbert and let him deal with the results. But in the end Jett's sense of fairness won out and he shook his head.

"It wasn't Prussia's fault." Jett explained with a sigh in his voice. "I was already ready to drink myself into a coma when he showed up, though to be fair he was already drinking with the same intent. It wasn't his fault, we were just both heading for the same end goal."

Germany was silent for a while, staring at Jett with those piercing blue hues of his. Prussia always looked at him with red eyes that were often full of mischief and a cheerful nature that stayed even when he became serious but Germany was different. His eyes were hard as stone and even if he were smiling or joking Jett was sure those cold eyes would remain unchanged.
The two brothers were so different and it began to make Jett feel uneasy, why did they both have to stare at him sometimes?

"It's none of my business." Germany declared finally, sitting straight as he decided what it was he wanted to say and Jett almost expected to be scolded for his reckless drinking. "But I feel compelled to ask. Just why were you trying to drink yourself into a coma?"

"You're right." Jett responded coldly, giving an immediate reply. "It really is none of your concern." The two of them sat like that for a while, unable to move past the cold atmosphere at first. Jett wanted to be polite to Germany but he also didn't want to admit he'd been sulking over his run in with Arthur.

"Australia." Jett's form flinched at his country's name, he was so rarely referred to by it. "I know that it's bold of me to say, but I already know." Gradually Jett's green eyes travelled back to Germany's blue ones. The German met his gaze but seemed to have a slightly softer expression, as though he pitied Jett.

"What did Chris tell you?" It clicked in Jett's brain, Christian had been left alone with Germany the day he came asking about history, surely he must have run his mouth for Germany to look at him with such a pitiful expression!
He was going to fucking throttle that little…

"Everything." Germany admitted before adding as an afterthought. "Enough."
Leaning forward in his seat Jett let out a heavy sigh of agitation.

"Look, there's no need for you to pity me because me and my big brother had a falling out. If someone asked you to try playing nice with me that's great and all but I'm not interested in-"

"Nein." Germany cut across him smoothly. "You've misunderstood my intentions." Germany's tone took Jett off guard, it wasn't full or pity or scorn instead it sounded serious and all business.

"If your actions of sudden kindness were not prompted by my meddling family then why am I here?" Jett didn't trust anyone easily and when confused he trusted even less and right then Germany was confusing him right good.

"I have a proposition for you Australia." Germany leant forward in his seat slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he fixed Australia with a firm look as though determined to make Jett see how deadly serious he was, as if Jett wasn't already convinced that Germany lacked the ability to not be serious.

"What is it…?" Jett was almost intimidated by the serious nation, it was as though whatever he said next was going to pass no matter what he said. Jett rarely allowed himself to feel small but right then he certainly did.

"Let's become friends." Jett almost shook his head to remove the bugs that must have crawled in his ears blocked his hearing but his headache warned him against doing that and so he was left to stare at Germany, doing all he could not to let his jaw hit the ground.
Germany watched at Jett seemed to turn to stone purely from shock and a rare ghost of a smile curled on his face.

"W-What…?" Jett choked, unable to find his voice properly. Why was it that this perfectly serious country that had little to no contact with him suddenly wanted to be friends? What did that even mean? Shouldn't he ask Chris about this..?
Jett's head was reeling, he'd never just been outright asked to become friends with someone other than Italy and that guy spoke too fast for Jett to really get caught up on it.

"Australia. Please become my friend." Germany rephrased the question from a demand to a request.
This type of invitation was almost some kind of confession!

"Why would you want to become friends with me? My country is so far from yours and I'm not even Chris, he's the one that you should-" Jett began to gush, finding he'd become embarrassed.

"I'm not asking Chris. I'm asking you." Germany responded smoothly. "You're Australia, I'm sure we'll have to ask Chris as well but I wanted to ask you, Australia." Jett's heart was pounding in his chest, he was being approached as a real country.
He was being treated as if he was still a real nation, not a lost convict that hung around purely out of Chris's kindness. Just for a second Jett felt as though he was real and seen again.

"But…this doesn't make sense… Politically…" Jett tried finding his protests weakening. He knew it didn't make sense as a country but as Jett he was wondering if he really should reject Germany.

"It's never been frowned upon to make friends with other nations. You tend to make friends wherever you go." Germany reminded him, Australia was a rather non-offensive country.

"Chris does."

"Australia does." Germany insisted, his almost kind expression no longer reminding Jett of pity. He wasn't sure what type of look it was Germany gave him but it didn't make him feel lowly or unseen.
"We've never had terribly strong relations it's true but we've never really argued either. I'm simply asking to create a strong relationship with you." Jett wanted to agree, actually he felt almost completely sold…but.

Arthur's face flashed into his mind briefly, along with the rest of the allies.
The world wars were over true but hostilities seemed to remain and as England's little brother Australia couldn't go out and form a pact with Germany, it would make the other members of the SEATO treaty uncomfortable. Not to mention Arthur would probably spit and fume, he trusted Germany the least next to America.

"G-Germany…" Jett began.

"Ludwig." Jett looked at him, startled. "Bitte, call me Ludwig." Jett felt as though he'd just been offered a great privilege but he still knew what he had to say.

"I want to be your friend but…" Jett prepared to deny Germany. It was just too great a risk and it might stir things up.

"England." Jett stopped at Germany's understanding voice. "Your big bruder right? He would never allow it, he would never allow his little bruder to make a choice like that." Jett felt anger boiling up inside of him, was Germany implying that he had no control over his own country?

"I can do what I like, it's my country!" Jett exclaimed before realising he was being childish and calming himself. "It's just the allies would be uncomfortable if were to get close."

"The allies? Do you believe that they fear you'd take my side if war were to break out? The war has ended." Germany told him gently. "But…if we were to become friends and war was to arise…well, I'd be able to have your back Australia." Germany smiled that rare small smile. "I won't abandon you."

Jett was quiet for a long time before speaking carefully.
"Are you proposing a treaty between us?"

"Ja and a friendship. As countries and as we are now." Jett looked up again to see that small smile, it seemed Germany rarely grinned at his brother did. "It would seem that mein bruder has already become close to you and Feli is trying to do the same. Also your relationship with Japan has become fairly warm in the recent years." Jett thought back on how Feli became close to him the night before and the times he and Prussia had drunk themselves silly.

Was he really making so many friends….?

"It only seems natural that we all become friends, ja?" Germany eased himself out of the his seat and held his hand out towards Jett. "Well? What is your answer Australia. Will you become mein friend?"

"I'm not a very good friend. I'll probably treat you badly." Jett told him while eyeing the hand carefully. Germany merely smiled as though he'd said something he'd heard before.

"Ja. We'll both have to be lenient with the other." Jett couldn't help but smile and completely ignoring all of the warnings is mind gave off about what England and America might think he reached out and took Germany's hand.

…

…

"I absolutely forbid it!" Jett had to hold the phone away from his ear for fear he'd go deaf. Just as he had promised England he has given him a call.
While dialling the numbers in his hand had trembled and he felt ill but Chris's giant puppy eyes stared at him the whole time, obviously absolutely over the moon that his brother was prepared to call Arthur after just a few days.

But the only reason Jett had called so fast but just so he could inform England about the treaty with Germany that was about to be passed.
The encouragement from the Australian people and Chris had been overwhelming, they didn't see it as a military move but instead just social, Australians loved being friends with other countries and they loved traveling so it was causing a great deal of excitement in the people and thus in the two figures that acted at the country, they could feel their people's approval.

Jett had been nervous about telling Chris at first but after a brief time where Jett was sure Chris was going to refuse his little brother had grinned and declared that it was great to be making more friend. Jett never guessed how uneasy Chris was, still not certain about Germany. But becoming friends with Prussia and Italy was definitely a pro for Chris so he'd approved full heartedly, wanting his brother to finally have friends. He was anti-social little bastard so Chris was going to encourage him wherever he could.

England on the other hand….had not been so thrilled.

"England…" Jett forced the words through his teeth. The second he called Arthur the Englishman had been ready to talk about anything. He'd been excited and hopeful and even Jett had hoped that this would go well…it hadn't. The second the treaty with German passed his lips Arthur had exploded.

"No. Absolutely not!" Arthur fumed on the other end of the phone. "Why would you try to make a treaty with that Kraut? You're already in enough treaties as it is!"

"Yo English dude, why you shouting?" Jett heard Alfred asked faintly from somewhere on the other end of the phone. Since when did those two hang out?

"Australia's trying to enter a treaty with Germany!" Arthur shouted back to America and Jett heard some sort of shout of confusion followed by a short scuffle over the phone.

"Aussie dude!" Jett again held the phone away, finding Alfred's voice ten times more headache inducing than Arthur's. "There's no way you can do that!"

"Why not? Germany isn't anyone's enemy really, why is it a probl-"

"What about our treaty? Come on we're in the ANZUS together, why would you need that guy?" Alfred complained and Jett was sure he could hear Arthur struggling to get the phone back.

"The ANZUS treaty works for you." Jett growled through his clenched teeth. "There's no rule in there that you have to come and get our back when we're in trouble but we're forced to help you."

"Well….yeah but I mean…" Alfred struggled for something to say to that. "I'm a hero so I'd help ya…" He didn't sound so confident and Jett wasn't convinced.

'I'd be able to have your back Australia.' Jett remembered how Germany had smiled when saying that, he'd promised to do what American wouldn't or couldn't. Even Alfred who was once his own brother wasn't prepared to promise to protect him if push came to shove but a man who had once been an enemy in war time was ready to defend him.

"Give me that you bloody wanker." Arthur had finally wrestled the phone from Alfred and once again tried to reason with Jett. "Now lad…" He began sounding exhausted. "You can't enter a treaty with Germany."

"Why the hell not? I'm my own country so why is it even your choi-"

"Because you belong to me! What I say goes." Arthur had slipped up, his anger getting the best of him and like so many times before he had said something he couldn't take back and did not mean.

Chris frowned watching how Jett's expression screamed bloody murder and all Chris's hopes for he and Arthur patching the gap died with Jett's next harsh words.

"Then I'll just leave you." Jett told him, voice deadly quiet as he said those words.

'I won't abandon you.'

Jett's anger was fuelled by the promise that Germany had made him where his brother had opted to send him across the sea and ignore him for a great deal of time before trying to lord over him. His fingers tightened on the phone and he began to say things that could not be taken back, much like Arthur did when angry.

"I am no longer your little brother I am not your colony I am Australia. This is my country, my people and this is my choice. If you don't like it then you can just go and shove the SEATO treaty up your fucking as-" Sudden the line went dead and Jett looked to see Chris tearing the cord from the wall.
"Hey what the hell are you-"

"That's my line you idiot!" Chris snapped back at him. "Were you seriously about to cut us out of the SEATO treaty? Just like that? Are you insane!?" Jett was fuming but even he struggled to remain angry when his idiocy was displayed before him. Chris was right. "We'll be lucky if we get out of this without getting into huge trouble…"

Jett began to feel bad, he'd put his carefree and all too forgiving brother in a bad situation all because of his temper.
"We have to abandon the treaty with Germany." Chris decided finally and Jett tensed, that was the last thing he wanted to hear. "It's not worth the trouble."

"It is!" Jett insisted, surprising Chris. "If we have a treaty with Germany we will have someone to rely on if we're in danger. America won't do shit and you know it and Zea is right here next to us, they'd only get in trouble as well. We need more protection than that and we've been offered a treaty. It's never so easy to just be offered a treaty you don't have to fight for. Come on Chris, this is the best offer we have."

Chris thought it over, knowing in some ways he was right but if they played their cards wrong…things could escalate to a real disaster. Hell maybe even war. They'd never been the base for a war and Chris didn't want to start now.

"Maybe later. Not now, not while England and America as so opposed…we just have to wait and bide our time, that's all. Let's just kick back and relax until there's a better time."

Jett was fuming, he didn't want to hear this. After such a long time of Chris begging him to make friends Jett was now denied the first offer of friendship he got? This was becoming beyond cruel. Why was his own little brother trying to restrict him as well? Why did his little brother make all the choices for Australi-
Jett's thought cut off as understanding dawned on him.
Chris thinks he's Australia…not me. So what am I to him? A ghost?

'I'm not asking Chris. I'm asking you. You're Australia."

And just like that Jett made a choice.

"You're right mate." He said quietly while walking for the door.

"Bro?" Chris frowned looking up at the retreating form of his brother. It was like a switch had been flicked, Jett never just agreed with him. "Where are you going?"

"To tell Germany the bad news." He answered with hand on the door knob. "I can't reject him over the phone, wouldn't be right. It won't take long."

"Ah. Wait mate…!" Chris tried to stop Jett but his brother vanished out the door leaving Chris standing alone in the house wondering just what it was that his brother was thinking.

Chris and Jett had always been close, almost close enough that they seemed to read the other perfectly but all of a sudden…Christian didn't understand what his brother was thinking or feeling at all. Where was his brother's head and heart if it was no longer with Chris?

For the first time since they'd come together as Australia…Chris felt entirely alone.

…
…

It was quiet in Germany's house.
Jett could hear the damn ticking of his own watch it was so quiet. He and Germany sat where they had a few days earlier on opposite sides of the table staring at one another.

"Australia, are you sure?" Germany asked softly. His deep accented voice holding a great weight in the noiselessness of the room.

"Yeah." Jett replied, his voice just as soft. "I'm not sure…if it's the right choice but it's what I want." Jett was staring down at his hands and couldn't see the way Germany's usually passive face bore a dark smile, one that harboured a sense of victory.

"If it is what you've chosen, I will back you up until the very end Australia." Germany promised him calmly. This had gone perfectly, infinity better than Germany had hopped and for once he found keeping a completely blank face to be difficult.

"Shall we?" He gestured to the document that sat between he and Jett. "To make it official." Germany's eyes followed Jett's hands as they pulled the document close and picked up the nearby pen and his sharp eyes picked up the slight shaking in Jett's fingers. Australia was uncertain despite his words and Germany couldn't have him backing out now. He had to be clever.

"Australia." Jett flinched at his name, obviously still not entirely used to it so Germany corrected himself. "Jett. You do not have to do this. He is you bruder, I will understand if you cannot…"

"N-No!" Jett cut across him and Germany supressed a smile, with the correct wording even the most stubborn man can be twisted into doing what he willed. "I can do it. He's not my brother anymore…I'm just going to make it very, very official this time."

"You will be in danger. You will be breaking countless rules…." Ludwig acted the part of the concerned friend as he spoke. "I wish to be your friend and I wish to have this treaty badly but even without it I will still be with you. There's no need to put yourself in a position you may regret."

"I'm serious! I've been meaning to do this for a while. It's okay…I don't need a treaty in which I get the short end. I don't need America leaving me for dead or England controlling me…." For a second Jett seemed almost like a scared child. Just as Ludwig wanted him. "Will you…?"

"Ja. You are already mein friend. This treaty will simply make you family. I am not your bruder…but I will protect you as one would a little bruder." It was easy. Ludwig knew what Jett wanted, he wanted a big brother that wouldn't toss him aside or forget him. All Ludwig had to do was play on that and Jett would fall right into his hands.

"This is what I want. I'm just excited that's all." Jett gulped as he placed pen to paper. His excitement was fear and Ludwig knew it but he only smiled internally all the more. The soft scratching of pen to paper was made and just like that Jett had signed a treaty with Germany.

"There's only one thing left to do now." Germany mused, unable to help some of his malicious tone slip into his words. His own excitement was true to the core and Ludwig waited anxiously for what Jett would say next.

"Yeah. I'll do it today…" Jett reached into his pocket and grabbed a small flip phone. Germany was amused that he kept such an old model but oddly he approved. At least he'd not be distracted by those flappy something apps. Flicking it open Jett tentatively dialled a number from his memory, he'd actually memorised it despite saying he wanted to forget.

Pressing the phone to his ear the two nations sat in silence as the sound of the ringing echoed in the quiet room. Jett's head jerked up slightly when the person on the other end answer.

"H-Hello….Arthur?" Jett frowned slightly and closed his eyes as he spoke. "I…was wondering if I could take you up on that tea and talk offer….?"

And Germany's mask split into an eerie grin.
Ah, revenge was so terribly sweet.

…

…

Arthur was ecstatic.
Sure he'd been furious only hours before but here Jett was. Sitting in front of him, the boy looked as though he'd not felt worse in years, sitting awkwardly while clasping the cup tightly and keeping his head low. He looked like the model of regret and Arthur couldn't be more thrilled.

This meant that he was regretting what he'd said and felt bad for being so cruel to his big brother over the phone and he'd even gone so far as to take him up on tea and scones which he'd be refusing for longer than Arthur could recall.
The great British empire was unable to stop the smile that appeared on his face and he didn't even try to hide it when Jett arrived that day, he'd not felt so relieved in years.

The soft click of a cup being placed on a saucer was the only sound in the brightly lit room. He and Jett sat opposite one another around a tea table by a window that allowed bright light to stream in, for once the clouds had broken to allow the light in. Arthur liked to think that it only proved this was a good day for change.

"I was so glad when you took me up on my offer Jett." Arthur was still cautious, using the foul name that his little brother had claimed even though he disliked it. But if he called him Jack the boy might just storm right back out, he was rather touchy.
Jett seemed edgy and flinched even at little sounds, a cup being rested on a saucer, a bird chirping outside and even when Arthur began to speak.

"Would you like a scone?" Arthur asked, of course Jett would refuse him. No one touched his scones no matter how much effort he put into making them. He learnt early on to hide his crushing disappointment when rejected.

"Ah…y-yes please…" Arthur was surprised when Jett stammered out a yes but his smile only widened. Jett was such a kind boy and he remembered that as a child Jett never spat out his cooking. All but glowing Arthur placed a scone on the plate by his tea, he was aware that Jett was watching his movements closely, afraid he might suddenly lash out but Arthur was too pleased to feel any anger towards Jett right then.

"Now then." Arthur eased himself back into the cushioned seat, legs crossed and tea cup in hand. "Since we're comfortable we can start talking." Arthur tried not to let his giddiness show but it must have leaked out somewhere.
"Tell me about Australia. What is it that you've been doing recently?"

How many years did recently include? Arthur cursed himself, recently for the two of them could go back decades but thankfully Jett didn't comment on it like he usually would. Perhaps he was trying just as hard as Arthur?

"W-Well…" Jett gulped, seeming to be trying to find something to say. "Steve Erwin died…"

"Ah yes, I did hear about that. Quite tragic really, was it a…uh crocodile?" Arthur asked, he was trying to be sensitive but that man had scared him half out of his wits at times. Who would play with those beasts as though they were house cats?

"Naw." Jett smiled in a grim sort of way. "It was a ray. He pulled the stinger out, man it was such a strange mistake for him to make. Chris was crushed." Jett seemed almost at ease for a moment, he didn't stutter once but he quickly recoiled back to earlier state. It was going to take more work to set his mind at ease.

"Your royals came to visit…" He added after a bit of thought. "The kid's a cute little ankle-biter…" Arthur smiled warmly, glad that his brother liked the royals, that was important. "But did you seriously have to name him George? Haven't we had enough kings named George?" Jett asked and Arthur chuckled, his colony really was all brass.

"Perhaps their next child will have a name you like better." Arthur encouraged Jett before taking a sip of his tea.

"Not if you name that kid Elizabeth or Edward." Both Arthur and Jett looked up and couldn't help but laughing. Jett was tense as could be but even he cracked a smile and Arthur's heart eased.
Thankfully their conversation didn't dry up for quite some time and with each new word and tale from Australia Arthur felt his heart grow lighter.
He'd be able to say it soon.

Soon Arthur would be able to tell Jett that he never wanted him to go.

That was until a nerve seemed to be hit.
"And how are you and New Zealand getting along? You're not arguing again I hope." New Zealand was a very well behaved boy and much more controlled than either Australian boys and Arthur was glad he'd asked him to keep an eye on his brothers.

"Yeah Zea is fine. He took Chris out to see Indonesia the other day. He makes sure we're not late….so much." Jett almost smiled when thinking about his two brothers but quickly seemed to remember something important and the smile vanished. It confused Arthur, talking about Chris and Toby never failed to have Jett's mood improve but on that day it seemed to sour it even further. Were they fighting?

"And Chris?" Arthur asked cautiously. Could it be true that he and Chris had a fight? They'd never fought before, sure they'd been fighting but only as rough housing brothers, Jett had never been truly angry with the other. Still at Chris's name Jett looked down at his tea in silence.
"Jett….?"

"Why would you ask about Chris?" Jett asked suddenly, his voice wasn't cold or angry, just kind of…empty. "I thought that you would ignore him. After all he stemmed from that filthy native didn't he?" It was Arthur that flinched this time and dread replaced joy, were they really going to go back to fighting. Noticing his unease Jett laughed but it was a bitter, uncomforting sound.

"Don't worry. I'm not asking about that, I just mean….why ask about Chris? I'm Australia to you right? So you shouldn't even ask about Chris." Something about that made Arthur feel uneasy, Jett was prone to great fits of rage and depression but he was never so…hollow.

"Lad…" Arthur sat forward and placed the tea down on the table. "Is there something that you want to tell me?" Arthur watched as Jett's shoulders tensed. "I know it may not seem it at times but I am your brother, I know you and right now you're behaving strangely."

Jett's hands tightened around the cup slightly and he took a shaky breath. It was as though all the progress was gone and they were back to square one. What had set him off…?
Arthur quickly backtracked in his brain, he hadn't called him Jack or done anything obviously wrong but still Jett was behaving in this unsettling manner.

"….I did it." Jett spoke quickly as if finally reaching a decision.

"Did what?" Arthur asked while watching how his brother's jaw clenched and his eyes flicked about the room rapidly as if he was looking for something. An escape maybe? When his green hues rested on Arthur the Englishmen instantly knew what 'it' was before he heard it and his heart almost stopped.

"I signed the treaty."

The silence that fell after that was suffocating, Arthur was gapping at Jett and the boy was staring at his cup again. when England found his tongue he lashed out, unable to stop himself.

"You bloody well what? Even after we told you….even after all of that and even when I told you not to!" England was fuming, seeing red but also he was terrified. The words over the phone he thought had been taken back were now so much more real and Arthur had a feeling of dread crawling up his spine.

When Jett looked at him Arthur saw something he'd not seen in many years and wished to never lay eyes on again.
The look that Jett wore was almost identical to the rebellious expression Alfred had worn the night he came to tell Arthur he was leaving.
Only…it was somehow more unsettlingly fragmented – as though some part of the Australian had smiled broken.

No, no, no, oh bloody hell no!

"I told you I forbade it!" Arthur felt like he as losing ground, losing Jett even faster.

"Yeah you did and you're not going to let me have any relationship with Germany… Are you…?" Jett asked, surprising his brother with the lack of fight behind his words.

"You know I damn well won't!" Arthur replied coldly, perhaps Jett would back down first. But the past should have warned him against such a foolish noiton.

"I know." Jett's body slumped forward over his tea and spoke in a tone that sounded almost like defeat, a weak tone of acceptance that Arthur didn't immediately understand.

"Jack you…" Arthur opened his mouth to try and end this ridiculous notion but suddenly there was pain. A hot white pain that burned into his cheek and Arthur immediately knew he'd been cut. His hand pressed to the cheek that was now spilling crimson blood and for a brief dazed second Arthur was unable to respond. He saw the blade that had left Jett's hand imbedded in the cushion of the seat by his head and he watched at the male dropped his tea, hands diving for his hip where Arthur knew his machete would be hidden.

Once the shinning metal was brought free of its hiding place and brought up high above Jett's head Arthur's brain finally caught up with the rest of the world and he was able to dive away from the deadly blow that Jett had intended to strike him with.
The sharp blade tore into the cushioning of the seat where Arthur's head had once been. Arthur toppled to the ground and quickly scrambled away from the other as he wrenched the blade from the chair and turned on Arthur.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Arthur screamed but when he looked at Jett's face and saw the lifelessness that sat in his green hues he realised that Jett wasn't even seeing him. Not really. Whatever had pushed Jett to such extremes had him blind to the consequences of his own actions. He was completely mad.

"Stop this at once!" Arthur tried again but his efforts to get through the Jett only resulted in him coming within swinging range again and Arthur barely escaped the second blow. Jett was in no real hurry, every miss he'd walk towards his big brother in silence loading up another bone crushing swing.
Arthur dove behind the tea table during one of his downward swipes and successfully got the blade buried in the thick wood of the table.

"It's a lesson." Jett finally grunted while trying to pull the blade free of the table. "It's just another lesson to teach you." Arthur immediately knew he was refereeing to the 'lessons' that he'd forced onto Jett during his own time in the darkness. Guilt gripped at his chest but he could display none of it.
He had not been in his right mind in that time, the stress of losing not only Alfred but also having Jack sent away had led him into a dark place of his mind he had not wished to go. He'd been completely barking mad when he did those things….and now Jett seemed to be in his own dark place.

Jett was finally able to pry his weapon free and looked around for Arthur, finding that his brother had managed to gather himself to his feet but he did not take up arms against him despite no doubt having a few stashed away somewhere. It confused Jett as to why Arthur did not raise blade nor gun against him as he advanced but instead opted to try and reason with him. There was no reasoning, Jett was taking his freedom and he was going to destroy Arthur in the process.

"Jack stop this!" Arthur raising his hands while backing up away from the slowly advancing Jett. "This is lunacy, whatever has gotten into your head remove it. I no longer wish to feud with you, I want us to return to how it was before." Arthur pleaded. "Little brother, please…this is madness…" For just a second Arthur was sure that he saw some kind of spark in Jett's dulled hues, some kind of understanding so he pressed on.

"Little brother…please come back home with me." Arthur pleaded quietly. It hurt, it was so painful to see Jett in this condition and even more heart wrenching to realise that this divide…would probably never been mended.

"I'm not your little brother!" It seemed as though something cracked in Jett's mind and the words came out in a roar as the Australian suddenly lunged for Arthur. Taken off guard by the sudden move Arthur found himself slammed back against the wall by the force of Australia's blow, the wind leaving him as he landed against the hard surface. When had his little brother gotten so strong?

"I'm not your colony, I'm not your brother, I am not your Jack!" Arthur had barely got his bearings back when the sight of Australia loomed over him, eyes wide with insanity and blade held up high with the intent to murder. "I am Australia!"

Arthur was trapped, against the wall and Jett. He realised with startling clarity that if Jett did not stop now…he'd be dead. Could he really be killed? Would be truly be murdered by Jett?
At the last second something that shone gold shot between Jett and Arthur, pushing Arthur clear of the true force of the blow but it wasn't enough to save him.
In his lunge Jett's blade cut into Arthur's face.

For Arthur at first there was no pain, just the eerie understanding that some dreadful had happened to his face and for that short second there was a blissful numb that spread through his being.
And then the pain came and when it did it crippled Arthur in an instant.
Arthur let out a cry of complete, blinding agony and he fell to the ground in a heap, hands clutching at his face as everything around him became stained red. He screamed and groaned, squirming on the ground desperately trying to ease the searing pain that coursed through his whole body.
His face was on fire and he couldn't see anything but red. Blood gushed through his fingers and stained his carpet but he'd been saved, he still continued to breathe.

Get up, get up Arttie! Arthur recognised that voice, one of his fairy friends was urging him to get up and run. The thing that had passed between he and Jett was no doubt one of his magical friends and they had saved his life. Growling in pain Arthur forced his body to obey, he'd lived through too much and too long to lay there and die now. It was slow and bloody work but finally Arthur was back on his feet, one hand pressed to his face and the other feeling its way along the walls of his home.

He could hear Jett cursing behind him, something must have been stopping him. Perhaps his friends had been able to buy him some more time to escape? Arthur didn't stop to have a look but even if he'd tried he wouldn't have seen anything, he was blind.
Feeling his way to the door Arthur had to rely on his knowledge of the house to escape with his world completely in the dark. Finally his fumbling hand found the door handle and from there it was clear running but suddenly he felt a presence rise up behind him.

Jett had advanced on him again and Arthur could imagine how he must have looked, stained with his brother's blood and blade in hand, madness in his green eyes.
In Arthur's imagination however…he resembled someone else that Arthur knew. A man standing with a sword in hand stained with his crying younger brother's blood. Arthur knew the man that now blended with his image of Jett was himself, it was England.

Gritting his teeth together Arthur pushed himself from the door frame as a swift rush of air passed dangerously close to his hand, Jett was still trying to cleave him in two.
Stumbling out into the familiar hall Arthur began to run, the stumbling steps hardly able to get him the ground he needed to escape the Australian but….

"H-Help!" Arthur shouted, the order sounding out through the house. So rarely did England scream for aid but in that moment he felt a fear he'd not felt before in a long time.

"No one is coming to help you England." A dark voice whispered to him before a blunt force slammed down in-between his shoulder blades, knocking Arthur to his knees. At least it was the blunt side and not the sharp edge of the blade that had caught him.
Arthur wasted no time in trying to get back to his feet but the cool surface of Jett's blade rested against his throat causing him to freeze.

"Your little woodland friends can't save you a second time. Who would come to save you? Splendid isolation was it…? Tsk…what would you know about being isolated? You boarder so many countries, you are so close to so many but still you're alone by your own choice. But me…? My boarders are a vast wasteland of water, what would you know about isolation?" Jett's cold voice continued to whisper to him and Arthur felt tears beginning to form but they burned him. They burned worse than a fire on his wounded form, why did it hurt so bad to cry? Why did the searing agony from his wound intensify tenfold when the salty tears began to slide down his face and mingle with his fresh blood.

"You have no one to save you. Your precious allies…all of those that you surround yourself with only to keep at arm's length, none of them will come to save you. Because you push everyone away don't you…great British Empire?" Jett's blade began to cut into his throat and Arthur had no doubt he planned to end it right then and there.

"Go your own way... Right? Big brother?" Jett whispered to him before the pain in his throat became unbearable and Arthur was sure he had cut him wide open.

BANG!

Suddenly Jett's weight was gone and the sound of a gunshot echoed through England's house. Still unable to see Arthur could only desperately try to guess what had happened when warm hands grabbed onto his shoulders.

"Up, quickly!" Someone was urging him and Arthur recognised Alfred's voice. Alfred had saved him…? Had he killed Jett? Had he shot the country that had once been his little brother? Arthur had plenty of questions but no strength to ask them, he was sure that he'd lost all of the blood he could afford to lose. He'd die if this continued.

Alfred must have seen it as well but he couldn't stop to help him, they were running down the hall and Arthur knew that they'd be close to the door soon…but it felt as though they were still in danger. Arthur was finally to regain some of his sight and when he looked behind them with one opened eye he saw Jett on the ground, bleeding rather badly, no doubt from Alfred's gunshot but he was pointing his own gun at the two of them.

That was the last thing Arthur was able to see before his world started to turn dark. He saw Jett claim the shot. He saw that he had the opening he needed and Arthur realised with a crushing sense of helplessness that they were going to be shot down by Jett.
And yet….the gun never fired. Not once.

"Don't go dying on me Britain!" Alfred's distant voice growled to him and suddenly Arthur was off his feet and being carried bridal style by the running American. The last of Arthur's strength left him and his world completely faded away.

…

…

"What did you do." Prussia stood in the doorway to his little brother's study. Inside the room was dark and Gilbert could only just make out the outline of West's form. His body was tense, fists clenched as he looked in.
With his back to Gilbert, Ludwig smirked. It was a coldly wicked expression but he did not let his brother see it.

"What are you talking about bruderline?" He asked, hardly even attempting to keep the smug tone from his voice.

Gilbert grit his teeth with a small growl. Australia had come to visit them and had not even said hello to the awesome Prussia, instead he'd gone straight to Ludwig with a serious expression on his face. Gilbert was aware that Ludwig was doing something, he'd seen it before.

The way he carried himself and the rare times when he'd have an expression like….
Like back at that time.
Back when he'd been completely swallowed up in the Nazi party, back when he'd even moved against his own big brother. Gilbert remembered that look and he wore it now, whenever Jett was close or he was locked away in his study…and Gilbert was afraid.

Gilbert was afraid for his brother and he was afraid for his newly found drinking buddy.
Gilbert did not want to move against Ludwig as he had during the times he'd gone mad with the need for the perfect Nazi world but it slowly seemed that was becoming more likely.

"You know exactly what I mean. What did Australia want with you?" Gilbert knew full well his brother had brought Jett home drunk from America's party and he also knew that he put some idea in the Australian's mind and now…whatever it was Australia seemed to be acting on it.

And what was more unsettling was that he also knew Ludwig had put something into Jett's drink on the night of the party. Jett was definitely no light weight no matter how much Prussia teased him and he'd already had his suspicions that his brother was to blame when he was so conveniently there to claim the drunken mess of Australia.

"Ah. He came to discuss our treaty." Ludwig answered smoothly, barely able to keep the smirk from his face. Surely by now it would be happening, surely by now there'd be blood.

"Our….treaty?" Gilbert was suspicious on one hand but not entirely displeased. A treaty with Australia would be nice and it'd only make their drinking ten times more fun but…why had Ludwig offered a treaty in the first place?

"Ja. Everything is signed and set up for our new found friendship. Jett is merely tying up one last loose end." His brother told him casually while setting down his pen and leaning back in his seat.

"What? 'Loose end'?" Gilbert repeated, a stone dropping in his stomach as Ludwig offhandedly said something unthinkable.

"Oh yes. He should have killed England by now."

…

…

Temptation- End.