Holy jesus.

Guys, I am so sorry for the delays D8! I really didn't think it'd take this long. But, I kind of lost muse for the story, blah blah, and therefore there was a delay! Now…after this update, I may take awhile to update again. I need to work on my Spamano story and possibly my fail Black Butler one…

So yeah….

Story time ouo/

oOo

"Bitch."

"….uhhhhh…"

"Make me breakfast."

"..mmmmmmm…"

"Go get me some McDonalds."

"….It'stooearlyforthissss…"

"It's 2 in the afternoon. Get up or I'll use your credit card to get McDonalds myself."

"Alright, alright! I'm up! Jeez, Tony, last time you used my credit card, you spent what, $100 on a month's worth of food? That's not going to happen again."

"Make me some breakfast, then."

"…If it's 2 o' clock, why do you want breakfast? Don't you mean lunch?"

"I don't care. Stop stalling. Get up and make me some fucking food."

He was then met by the sound of a door slamming shut; the noise rang through his ears and woke him up completely. Being as lazy as he was, all he could manage was rolling over onto his back, resting his arm across his forehead. There were times when he couldn't help but feel irritated with Tony; the alien had interrupted a rather nice dream.

Nice? Is that what it was? …

No…

America had been having reoccurring dreams. They were never the exact same, but they were similar in many ways. One way, for example, was that they would usually end up with him waking to messy sheets, or morning wood. Normally this would not have been a bother, but it was the dreams themselves. Or rather, it was the person in the dreams. Somehow, miraculously, the person in his dreams was none other than Arthur Kirkland. England.

To him, the dreams were rather unwanted. He had never seen his ex-brother as anything more than another country...maybe even a 'friend'. But somehow, without him noticing, his view on the bushy-browed Brit had begun to change.

It took America an unnecessarily long time to get up and make himself presentable. Firstly, he had had to relieve himself of the after effects that his dream had caused. Afterwards, he dragged his feet getting dressed. To him, a t-shirt that he'd already worn earlier in the week and a pair of baggy jeans that were way too big for him were perfectly acceptable as an outfit. It was hishouse; he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

By the time he reached the kitchen is his large estate, he found Tony sitting at the table eating a poptart. "Wh-what? Tony! Dude, I got out of bed, I even got dressed, and you are already eating?" Alfred was beside himself.

The alien shrugged it's shoulders and nibbled on the edge of the poptart. "You took too long."

"…" Several seconds of silence passed between the two before the blonde ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Fine. I guess I'll just go watch TV or something."

"Go do your paperwork, you ass-"He exited the room before his 'friend' got the chance to finish his insulting orders. Who is Tony to tell me what to do, anyways? God, he can be so useless, sometimes… The man raged silently as he began to make his way up the stairwell that led to his TV room. When he had nearly reached the next floor, an obnoxious song filled the air.

' Don't wanna be a Canadian idiot '

America swore and quickly snatched his cell phone from his pocket and put it to his ear. "Matt, if this is about maple syrup, for the last time, I—"

"Maple syrup? Why would I call you…? Just, never mind. That is definitely not why I called."

"Look, I am not in a great mood right now. Tony totally just woke me up for no reason and I am pretty pissed off about it…" While on the call, the American finally reached the upper floor of his house and went straight to a large room which was filled with several gigantic, flat screen TVs.

"Just now woke up? But it's nearly 3pm where you are…Anyways, I called to tell you about my visit to Arthur's place—"

"What? Why did you go visit that old scone-sucker?" He leaned against the doorway of his room, not noticing how rudely he kept cutting the other off.

There was a sigh on the other line before Canada spoke up again. "Well, if you'd listen to me for five seconds, maybe I'd tell you! Seriously, Al, you need to stop interrupting me whenever I talk to you—"

"Just get on with it, I don't have all day."

Matthew was about ready to strangle his conversation partner through the phone. "THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT. SHUT YOUR TRAP AND LET ME SPEAK. Ok. Ok. So, I told you, though you don't seem to remember, that I was going to England to have him check over a proposal of mine that I never got to present at the last meeting. But, when I arrived at his place and he answered the door…he…he looked terrible. "

"Huh. That's not like him. He was probably having an off day, bro."

"No, Alfred, that was not it at all. He seemed very bothered the entire time I was there. I could see it in his eyes. He was simply wearing a mask since I was around. And get this, when I started gathering my papers, I asked him if whatever was wrong had to do with you. He didn't even give me a direct answer. All he said was 'It's not his fault, it's mine.' Obviously you've done something really bad, and you need to fix it. Arthur looked really sick and I bet he is starting to get even worse! You don't know how worried I am about him…how worried you should be too!" The Canadian stopped and took a breath, having gotten himself rather worked up.

America rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he listen to the steaming Canadian. "I don't know what you expect me to do. I can try talking to him at the next meeting we both have together. Is that ok?"

For several heartbeats, there was silence, and finally static came with a voice. " No, Al. I doubt Arthur will be willing enough to come to the meeting; he'll probably skip it if he sees you on the agenda list."

He gave a pout and clenched his hand around his phone, as if worried that it would slip, fall, and crash to the ground. "Are you saying I actually have to make an effort to go to his house and visit him?"

"No, Al, I am saying nothing of the sort. I am simply asking you, as a fellow country, as a friend, as a brother, please, just do something about him. I care about him, and I know you do, too. Something about you is bothering him, and that means you are the only one who can make him better. Please…"

"…Alright." He sighed, caving. "I'll make time and visit him. I can't promise you when, but I will."

Somehow, he was able to tell that Matthew was relieved, and much less tense than he had been the moment before. "Alright, I'll leave it to you then. Keep me updated on what's going on, though, if you don't mind. I'd hate to be left in the dark about all of this."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll text you and let you know if anything particularly interesting happens," Alfred grumbled, beginning to grow bored with the conversation, though, deep in the back of his mind, his thoughts were racing with the information he had been given. "Look, I am going to go watch TV now, so I have to go."

"That's fine; I've told you all I wanted to tell you. Bye, and say hi to Tony for me!"

America snorted. "Say hi to Tony for him; why would I ever say hi for him when Tony is just some ungrateful rat that doesn't wait for me to get McDonalds and wakes me up when he kept me up all night. Why do I even keep him around anyways…." His voice trailed off as images flashed on one of his TV screens. A yellow sponge danced back and forth and music filled the room. He couldn't help but sing along to the well known toon, and soon, all of his troubles were forgotten.

Crappy chapter is crappy? The next one shall be England….and I don't know where I am going with the next chapter. Oh, but I do know what England's dream is going to be about this next time! That's a secret to all of you, though. ;D