Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
A Debt of Gratitude
Let me be your butler!
As if it were a broken record, this phrase continued to repeat itself in a haze of darkness. A humorless chuckle was released. Piercing blue eyes continued to stand by the spoken words in all seriousness. And a small naive promise was spoken to return by the next day.
"Ugh..." Moaned out a tired Briton as he groggily peeled his face off from his kitchen table. Glancing around in mild confusion, he stared at his kitchen clock for a few long seconds before his brain registered that it was half passed 10. Half passed...
"Bloody hell!" He shouted as he recalled a certain blond staying at a hotel with an injury that had remained untreated. Furiously rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he quickly ran up the stairs and into his room where he made sure to change out of his sleeping attire into something more presentable. "God, how did I even-?!" He yelped as he clumsily slipped on his shoes and dashed back down the stairs. As he hastily grabbed his keys and ran out of the door he clambered into his car and started the engine before his muddled mind began to recall the last few hours he had spent before awakening on his kitchen table.
As much as he would have loved to have slept the rest of the night peacefully away that had not been the case when he had arrived home. Despite protests from his body to retire for the night and receive the proper sleep he desperately needed there was still a tiny thought that plagued his mind. At first, it seemed small, even insignificant as he rolled around a few times in bed. But then, it grew. And before he knew it, all he could think about was whether this random stranger would truly be ok for the night. Even when he made the ridiculous promise to return by the next day to check on the man, in return that he'd stop spewing ridiculous ideas and get some rest, the worry was still there.
"Damn it." Growled out a frustrated Briton as his car pulled to a stop in front of a traffic light. "Why is this even bothering me? He's just a human!" As cruel as that sounded, it was a fact that could not be denied. Humans came, lived and died. So if Alfred's condition had worsened or even met a tragic conclusion in the middle of the night, there wasn't much he could do after that.
That was it however.
He COULD have done something. Last night. Rather than pay the man any attention, he could have very well forcefully dragged his screaming body to the emergency room and get him treated. Yet, he didn't. And to top that off, a curious little thought had stuck him while he was trying to sleep last night.
How exactly did that man get such a large gash on the side of his head?
Once that thought surfaced to the top of his mind, there was little chance of getting sleep, as various scenarios nagged at him. It wasn't until he had stumbled to the kitchen, early in the morning, in search of some chamomile tea that he had finally collapsed into a chair in wait for his tea to cool down. And as he leaned in his chair, sleep had at last claimed him, despite how uncomfortable his position might have been.
Muttering some incoherent swears under his breath, England could see the familiar silhouette of a hotel begin to emerge in the distance. "About time..." He grumbled as he all but fell out of his car and hobbled up towards the room door that sheltered the American.
Taking a heavy sigh England politely knocked on the door, vaguely aware of the frantic rhythm it followed and waited for the door to open. Concentrating all his hearing into the room before him, he could feel his heart beat speed up as nothing stirred inside. Taking a rash peek into the window nearby he clicked his tongue as the curtains prevented any curious eyes from looking in and took note that any vacant rooms at the hotel had all their windows opened up for view. He had to still be here!
With one more round of rapid rasps on the door, England's frown deepened as he got no response, leaving him to hastily try jiggling the door knob in desperation.
"Wha?" And to his utter shock the door easily clicked open, giving the Briton free access to the darkened room ahead. "I can't believe..." He trailed off as he hesitantly stepped inside only to be greeted with an empty room. With a bare bed proudly proclaiming the absence of a certain blond, England could feel a twitch work its way up his body as he stood at the entrance in disbelief.
Did the young man wake up in the middle of the night and simply leave the hotel? Or perhaps his condition got worse and in a moment of clarity, he went to the hospital in the end?
"Tch!" None of his thoughts would answer his question unfortunately, yet he couldn't help but wander into the room in suspicions, hoping to find some trace of the American as if to assure himself that he hadn't simply dreamt all the chaos of last night.
"Wha-?!" He gasped loudly as he turned the corner of the large bed. Lying there in a heap of blankets was Alfred, his curled figure completely hidden from sight as he appeared lifeless to the world.
"You bloody git!" England screeched as he frantically grabbed the blond by the shoulders and placed his ear to his chest, desperately listening for any heartbeat. To his utter relief he heard the familiar pounding of his heart and immediately went to work assessing the young man's condition.
Without his glasses he looked slightly pale as his head lolled to the side in England's arms. His head! In another rush of horror, England eased the man back onto the floor as carefully as possible before stuffing his hands in his pockets in search of his phone. "Where did I put that damn thing!?" He shouted. When hands dug deeply into devoid pockets, the Briton released a single loud curse as he came to the realization that he had left his phone placed on the nightstand next to his bed. Exactly the last place he didn't bother to check as he departed from his house. "DAMMIT!"
Glancing down at the unconscious man in panic, England felt his breath hitch as he noticed the blonds' eyelids jerk slightly. "Hey! Can you hear me?" He asked.
As if in response to his question, the young man continued to show some sign of life as his eyebrows drew close to his eyes in displeasure before they slowly cracked open. In a muddle of confusion Alfred blankly stared up at the Briton as he could only make out a blurred figure.
"You're awake! Thank god!" Cried out the green eyed nation.
"Ar-?" Whispered the American until all of last night's memories flashed passed him. "Arthur!" He hastily shot up from the floor, quickly catching the Briton off guard as he scrambled back in surprise. Thankfully the bed to his side was there to give the groggy blond support when the world began to spin out of control.
"Hey! You shouldn't be moving so suddenly, you daft fool!" Scolded Arthur with a grumble. With the young man finally awake he swiftly made his way towards the window and opened up the curtains, allowing the bright sunlight to illuminate everything inside. Including the top of Alfred's head that peeped up over the top of his bed.
What he saw left him speechless.
Nothing.
"Ugh." Came Alfred's tired moan as the sun blinded him. Momentarily distracted with the sunlight easily gave England the opportunity to approach him and study his head more intently.
"Where... where's your wound?" He questioned as he itched to rummage through the man's hair and locate the blasted large gash he had found on him last night. Certainly he hadn't imagined it all!
"Huh? Oh... I cleaned it up." Was England's quiet answer. Glancing down at the man in question very intently, England finally allowed his serious demeanor to break with a heavy sigh.
"... so you're completely fine then?" A sloppy nod from Alfred confirmed what he still couldn't believe. As far as he could tell, the young man was just suffering from a rude awakening.
"God, I feel so foolish." He whispered as he began to make his way back outside.
"Wait! You're leaving already?" Quipped Alfred in a frantic voice. Stumbling over himself a couple of times, he eventually found his legs and chased after the departing man.
"Wai-!"
With a sharp turn of his heel, England came face to face the blond, catching him off guard as he scrambled back in fear of the deathly glare the man was sending him.
"Look." He began in a low voice, a warning tone that even the densest of people could understand promptly. "I actually kept my promise and returned to check on you. And you're apparently fine. Now, I'm tired. I'm hungry. And I have a pile of paperwork to complete at home! And what am I doing here? Babysitting you! Now if you'll excuse me, for the final time, I'm going home. WITHOUT any interruptions, I trust!" He added with narrowed eyes.
That was the end of that discussion as the Briton curtly turned his back to Alfred and continued on his way to the car, unaware of the broken expression on Alfred's face as he could do no more but watch in agony as he left.
Standing in front of the hotel like a dog abandoned by his owner, Alfred carefully hid his hand in his pocket and wrapped it around his watch for comfort. Perhaps this would be his first mistake in time traveling. Maybe he needed to be more reserved next time. Approaching the British nation so brashly certainly caused regrettable consequences here.
"I'm sorry..." Whispered Alfred, refusing to look up at the retreating man. Honestly, he couldn't help how he reacted to the man though. He'd certainly have to fix this problem if he traveled back in time.
Just as he was pulling out the watch a strong gust of wind whipped past his face, sending traces of dirt and a few random pieces of trash swirling around his legs. At that moment, a headache stuck the American, causing him to double over as he held his head in his hand.
"Damn it! How many more times is this going to happen?" He growled out as he tried to sturdy himself on one knee. Was this a side effect from time traveling or perhaps from that... "accident" last night?
Despite his vision blurring for a few seconds and the irritating pain he felt in his head, Alfred managed to fight against it and eventually was able to focus his eyesight on the ground again. Directly onto a faded news article involving an official in office and how his contributions were well appreciated by the citizens.
"This-" Wondered Alfred out loud before he felt his vision slip once again. It wasn't exactly fading but instead, was changing the entire environment around him as shapes shifted and contorted before forming back into buildings and people. A huge mass of them.
"Excuse me sir! Can you please explain to us how exactly millions of pounds were extorted from the people and sent into a private account? Where is the money now? And why-?" Bright flashes emitted from large cameras focused solely on the lone man forced to talk to the citizens of his country.
"He lied to us!" Came someone's loud shout.
"Thief! He never once stood for us, did he?" Added another person as numerous voices yelled in agreement.
Even with numerous police trying to quell the anger of the people, the volume of anger chants continued to rise until eventually, the representative chosen to speak to the people decided to withdraw back into the government building, for fear of his own well being.
"-ake up!" Barked a British voice while a vicious shake of his shoulder quickly roused Alfred from his visions. "Huh?"
"Bloody hell! You're not fine, are you?" Grunted the nation in annoyance. "One minute your just standing there and the next! On the floor again! I swear, I..."
What was that? Thought the American to himself before he carefully lifted the paper off his shoe. Upon examining the man's photo in the article, his eyes lit up as an old memory recalled seeing his face on the news before. If he was correct in his assumption, this official was the same man who helped extort millions of dollars, pounds, and other currencies into secret accounts. Many speculations were held that these accounts helped fund certain countries during the war however, no one truly found out the truth when the man later died from poisoning.
"That bastard..." Muttered Alfred, forgetting about the second presence near him.
"Ah? Who! You mean this ol' fellow?" England asked in confusion. Once his eyes landed on the for mentioned man he felt a scowl find its place on his face in reply to Alfred's insult. "Do you have a problem with him? If I remember correctly, you said you weren't from here. For what reasons does he bother you?"
"He can't be trusted." Replied Alfred bluntly.
"Not one single politician can truly be trusted. But that doesn't mean we can turn a blind eye to all the good this man has done for his city and the people." Retorted England.
Unable to bother any further with the topic, Alfred carelessly crumbled up the newspaper and began to stand up again. "Anyways... Sorry for bothering you." He spoke glumly.
With slouched shoulders, Alfred dejectedly looked back to the open room before returning his gaze to England. "I really appreciate your kindness though. I only wish you'd somehow let me repay it back..."
"That isn't necessary. I was only being a good Samaritan. I do hope you won't have any more episodes though." England added with a raised eyebrow. Once Alfred gave him a silent shake of his head, the British nation felt content enough to end the discussion here and aimed once more for his car.
"I wasn't joking you know..." Came Alfred's voice when the Briton was opening his car door. Yet, even when he refused to acknowledge the young man's words, Alfred continued.
"I'd be more than happy to serve someone like you..." To the Briton's relief, the words did not ring close to his ears, however, it seemed the boy had more to say.
"And although you may not want me repay this debt to you, so long as I live... I'll always be in debt to you. Unless you allow me to repay you back somehow."
Holy- Thought the nation in disbelief as the words slowly sunk in. It almost sounded like the blond was pledging a lifetime of harassment if his debt wasn't paid off somehow.
England grudgingly looked back at the American and felt his face twitch. "Are you serious?"
Another nod was all the Briton needed to break down momentarily as he slammed a fist against his car door, doing his best to hold back a scream. Knowing full well that he wouldn't get any more sleep today, he stiffly uncurled his hand and robotically motioned it to the passenger seat. "One day. That's all you're getting from me."
Wide eyed with shock at seeing his plan succeed, Alfred swiftly closed his room door, returned the keys to the hotel staff and joined England, making sure to make little eye contact as the man was practically seething at this point.
Drowning in an awkward silence, the two drove off into the main street, making lefts and rights, all the while, Alfred refused to speak another word for fear that it would drive the Briton over the edge.
And although the peace was appreciated, at some point it became unnerving as England would occasionally send this strange American an annoyed glance or two, wondering when he would dare speak again.
Surprisingly enough, the American did not express any further unusual behavior and even continued the silence when they finally reached their destination: A small cafe wedged between a bank and another hotel. It was almost like he had completely shut down.
"Well now, seeing as how I already missed breakfast I suppose lunch will do." England pondered loudly. Again, no reaction as the blond faithfully followed him into the tiny shop. So much for enjoying the peace.
When the waitress seated both men at last, England decided to break the deafening quiet between them with a direct question. "Are you going to eat anything?"
Staring blankly at the menu placed before him, Alfred shook his head but jumped in surprise when paper was slapped before him. "Its impolite to leave a question unanswered." Growled Arthur.
"Oh, sorry." Mumbled Alfred. "Ah, no. I'm not hungry."
"Is that so?" Pulling back on the menu he had previously slammed onto the table, the green eyed man skimmed the entrees once, then neatly placed it to the corner. "And I was so sure I was going to pay for your food as well."
At this, Alfred broke away from his unresponsive demeanor and rose an eyebrow at the gentlemen. "Wouldn't that mean I'd be further in debt to you?"
England couldn't help but send Alfred's worried frown a dirty glare. "Wouldn't you like that?"
Thankfully, the waitress had returned to take their order as she jotted down England's order but hesitated to leave when Alfred refused to add anything to her list. Once she was gone, it was back to the same eerie air between the two blondes. One quietly glancing out the window while the other could feel the seconds tick by the longer he sat with this stranger.
"Do you plan on staying this quiet all day long?" Asked England with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Or are you hoping I'll forget about your rash actions from last night?"
"Sor-"
"No no no. No more apologizes. I'm sure you can say more than that. Come now, where's your voice?" Egged Arthur. "For starters, do you mind telling me your full name?"
"My name?" Echoed Alfred. "Its Alfred F. Jones."
"Ok, good." Answered England as a matter of fact. "Judging from your accent, I presume you're from the United States correct? Which state exactly?"
This perked up the Americans interest as he carefully considered his answer. "Hmm... can't say. I moved around a lot."
"Then how did you end up here? All the way across the pond?"
Another tricky question. "I... You'd be surprised how far a few dollars can get you..." Alfred answered cryptically.
A tiny grumble escaped the Briton although he maintained his composure regardless. "Oh? Do you by any chance have paperwork then?'
"Huh?"
"You know, ID, a passport, etc? How else do you travel around without getting questioned at some point?" A look of despair would surely leave the nation asking more questions if Alfred showed anything. So he chose to stare down at the table instead.
"Don't want to answer that eh?" By that point, the waitress had finally returned, both hands occupied as she gently placed two plates down.
"Enjoy the meal." She chirped. And as quickly as she was gone, the sound of a plate being shoved forward vibrated the table, effectively causing Alfred to look up at England.
"Here. Its the soup of the day that came with my meal. Turns out it was a soup I'm not too fond of." Muttered the British man as he stabbed his chicken with a fork.
"But..." Began Alfred while his mouth hung open in question.
"But what?" He snapped. "Don't just sit there staring at the damn bowl. Eat up! Nothing is more shameful then wasting perfectly good food."
An order was an order. Hesitantly lifting up his spoon, Alfred studied the soup before dipping the utensil inside and bringing it up to his lips. Just one spoon and immediately, the American was hooked on the dish. How long had he gone without having a proper decent meal in his future? If anyone had known better, they would have said too long judging by the rate the young man was swallowing his food.
Pleased to see that at least Alfred wouldn't go hungry for the day, England concealed a small smirk behind his fork. Choosing now to enjoy his meal as best he could, it wasn't until he was halfway done with his lunch that he noticed Alfred had cleaned his bowl and was currently occupied with watching the outside environment.
"Well then..." Started Arthur once again. "...Is there any particular skill you are good at?"
At least the side glance Alfred gave him indicated that he had heard him.
"I mean for the 'debt' you owe me. What skills can I put to use around my house?" How quickly the blond snapped his body in the Britons direction almost made him swore that the guy had broken something in the process.
"You're going to let me be your butler?" A faint light in the man's blue eyes glittered oh so hopefully. Exactly why though, Arthur would never guess.
"What?! No! I meant as in the one day debt you owe me. Nothing more than that!" He exclaimed. "Why are you still contemplating that ridiculous idea of yours?"
"Because I owe you..." Mumbled Alfred quietly.
"Enough about that." England answered quickly. "Back to the topic on hand..."
Lightly tapping his spoon against his teacup as he called for complete attention, their eyes met. "Would you prefer I ask the questions or would you rather list down what you're capable of?"
Left to the task of choosing his options, Alfred fought back the urge to chew on his lip in nervousness as he immediately knew that neither choice would garner good results. Either England would ask the questions and be disappointed with all of Alfred's dismissal of qualification, or he'd personally tell the Briton himself that he didn't hold many skills regarding caring for ones house and whatnot.
"Fine. Are you good at cleaning?" England quizzed, having grown impatient with the American's silence.
"To an extent." Replied Alfred softly, recalling the messes he would have to sort through and sometimes even organize in a corner pile whenever he was rummaging through desolated houses in search of supplies.
"Can you lift heavy objects with ease?"
"Of course." How many times did he have to place large and usually unmovable objects in front of doors and exits in order to ensure his escape from enemies?
"Hmmm..." Wondered the Briton as he slowly prodded his food in thought.
"I'm pretty good with plants too..." Muttered Alfred as he unconsciously ran through the numerous things he was capable of doing when he was fleeing from the nations. Identifying which plants were edible and which were not proved to have spared him many painful experiences in the woods and wastelands.
"What was that?" England asked.
"Uh, I said, I like gardening." Alfred swiftly corrected.
"Gardening? I suppose my garden has seen some neglect these past few days..." With one more sip of his tea, the Briton placed his empty cup back onto the table as he began to look around the cafe for the waitress. Unable to locate the women amongst the growing number of customers inside the building, England promptly gave up and decided to tune in on the television placed in the top corner of the room.
Just idle news by the looks of it, while two news reporter were discussing something, images flashing between a news room and a city street.
Glancing down at his watch, the little hand meticulously ticked by 12, signaling that the paperwork today needed to commence soon.
"Always with the schedules..." He mumbled under his breath as he rose from the booth. Across from him, the young blond was oddly engrossed by the television, having paid no mind to the Briton that was preparing to find the front desk and pay for their meal.
Passed bustling families and conversing couples the noise level was thankfully dwindling the further away he got from the dining area. Once at the front desk, the Briton was handing the cashier the money for his food when a curious thought struck him: What if I lose that boy here? He certainly won't realize I'm gone with the loud ruckus and the television distracting him.
Despite how tempting the idea was in his head, England scoffed in skepticism as he considered the amount of trouble that would ensue if he followed through on his plot. No good would come out of this if the American was persistent enough, which judging by his previous actions surely supported that thought.
When his change was handed to him, he was just about to turn back and fetch the lad from his booth when he was suddenly nudged from the side, an edgy blue eyed blond eagerly aiming to push him towards the front door without actually shoving him.
"Ready to go?" Alfred asked as he took one last glance back towards their previous seating area.
"Huh? Well of course but-."
"Great." Interrupted Alfred in a much too forced cheerful tone. Without another word he exited the cafe, making sure to wait outside for England.
"I'll never understand you Americans." Said England with a sigh when he joined Alfred outside. "Oh bother, did I forget something again?" Searching through his pockets and feeling that they were strangely too empty the nation brought a hand to his forehead in irritation. "I can't even recall if I brought anything with me or not."
"Maybe you have too much on your plate." Alfred tried to add helpfully.
"You don't even know the half of it." Replied Arthur. "I guess there's no harm in double checking." He added, very well aware that in the jumble that his mind was in it wouldn't surprise him if he did forget something at their table.
"Ah, I can go check for you!" Alfred interjected swiftly. Before he could reach for the door, England already had his hand raised in objection.
"That won't be necessary. It'll only take me a brief second." And back inside he went, leaving Alfred to worriedly search around his surroundings for some distraction.
"Please let it be a commercial, please let it be..." He chanted as he hoped to see England come back with the same expression. With a whole minute passing by, he considered going inside himself to face whatever wrath the man had to throw at him if he had seen the television coverage but stopped when the Englishman could be seen making his way towards the exit.
Well, he didn't look angry but he wasn't smiling either.
"So, when-." Started Alfred.
"You got hit by a car." England stated so matter of fact it almost terrified Alfred to think what exactly was going through the man's mind.
"I-!"
"Why didn't you say anything in the first place?"
"No, it wasn't how you think it went!"
"Then how did it go!?" Came England's angry yell. "It was when you were chasing me, wasn't it?"
"Look! Let's just... talk about it over here." Alfred offered as he could see some people staring at them in concern. Grudgingly following the American to an isolated corner of the street, England crossed his arms, waiting for the man to give out the pitiable excuse he was most likely forming at this moment.
"Ok, you're right. It happened when I was running after you..." Alfred admitted in defeat.
"And you didn't once say a word about this! How-!"
"BUT! But, the car didn't hit me!" The growing look of fury on England's face didn't help ease the anxiety welling up in Alfred' stomach one bit, but he had to admit the truth now anyways.
"Whatever the news coverage was saying... remember that the media likes to exaggerate the truth sometimes."
"The cab driver that drove us said he saw you get hit by a car!"
"The car swiped me!" Retorted Alfred immediately.
"And your head?"
"I'm completely fine! The only reason I got injured in the first place is because I'm a little rash sometimes." Reasoned the American in a calmer voice.
"And you want to help me out?" Emphasized Arthur with narrowed eyes.
At this statement, Alfred had no good excuse to counter it, leaving him speechless for a moment. Nervously searching around without making direct eye contact with England, he faltered in his thoughts and dared to voice a risky comment.
"Sometimes, you need reckless people in your lives."
The unimpressed look on England's face said otherwise.
"Alright, I shouldn't have kept that from you but... I didn't want you freaking out either."
"How can someone NOT freak out over this!" Exclaimed Arthur. "And to think that this happened because you were chasing me." An expression of remorse momentarily flashed across his eyes before focusing back on anger.
"Why are you chasing me anyways?" Asked England with a stance of defiance. "Cause if you think you're getting something out of me, you got other things heading your way."
His bold statement, that bright glare in his green eyes. This England was very much like the old England in Alfred's time: Ready for a fight if one came towards him.
Recalling this tiny yet heartfelt detail quickly broke Alfred's resolve to put up anymore arguments against the British nation. With no more excuses to hold his ground, only the truth remained.
"I don't even know anymore." Alfred spoke in a soft voice. "Its just... you remind me of someone. Someone very dear to me."
Caught off guard by the sudden melancholy that shrouded Alfred, England hesitantly put his hackles down. "Do I now?"
"Yeah." He mumbled. "But, I did some things in my past that ruined everything between us and now...I wish there was something I could do to make it up to them."
"Did you apologize to them?" Inquired England curiously.
"No..." Replied Alfred sullenly. "At that point, it was too late for sorry."
No more words transpired between the two as they allowed the depressing atmosphere to fade away.
Then, "...Is that why you're so insistent on helping me out? This is your way of making it up to that person whom I remind you of?"
A reluctant nod followed although Alfred had to bite back anymore comments for fear that he would reveal too much to England.
"You do realize I'm simply a substitute for you then. I'm not the person you're looking for forgiveness from. Why don't you return to that person and tell them how you really feel? Explain to them that you realize your mistakes and that you'd like to repair your relationship with them." England offered. Did he ever feel like a therapist now though.
Reminiscent of Arthur's familiar tone, he began to feel some of his anxiety melt away.
"Is it ok if I repay my debt to you first? Then after, I'll think about what I'll do next." The small frown on Arthur's lips said he wasn't particularly happy about the idea, especially when he kept glancing at the blonds' head.
Drawing a hand up to his bangs, Alfred felt a small smile slip on his lips. "I said I was ok. Do you want to check for yourself?" He let his hair drop before his eyes, giving the Briton full view of his head. "See? Totally fine."
Still not entirely sure if he was convinced or not, the Briton grimaced one last time before turning around and heading back towards the main street. Taking this as his cue to follow after him, Alfred was not too far behind him as they headed towards the car.
An exasperated sigh escaped the Briton once again. "Alright, I have a pile of paperwork to attend to back at my place. And you said you like gardening, correct?" With Alfred's confirmation he continued once they were inside his car.
"Can I at least trust you to tend to the garden out front while I deal with my work?" He eyed the American sharply as if he were searching for anymore hidden truths.
Thankful to hear a pleasant "Yes sir" echo in his ears, Arthur held no more complaints and drove them through the active streets of London. Despite the twinge of guilt he felt for putting someone to work after they got hit by a car, should something befall the careless American, he'd at least be present and nearby to take action and finally correct this whole mess he called a misunderstanding.
"So..." Came Alfred's voice. "What does your work involve?"
Caught off guard by the question, England swiftly peered at Alfred from the corner of his eyes but only found earnest blue ones gaze back at him. No more strange or awkward behavior it seemed as Alfred had finally settled into a somewhat comfortable persona, having revealed some of his motives for wanting to help the Briton.
"Ah, it involves meetings, meetings and more meetings." Answered England with a dull face. "And if there's no meetings, then there's a mountain of paperwork to be done."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah."
"How do you find time to take care of the house then?" Alfred added.
"Eh? Well, on my free time I clean up a little here and there but as of late, I've been finding less and less time to bother with such tasks." Admitted the Briton.
An empty chuckle from Alfred immediately earned him England's attention. Once he noticed, a crocked smile fell on his face as he tried to fend off the man's intense glare.
"I'm not laughing at you! I just remembered another guy who was always busy with meetings and paperwork as well."
"And what was his solution?"
Staring out the window at the changing scenery, Alfred closed his eyes. "You're not gonna like this but... he hired a friend to help him around the house." When the expected scoff was heard behind him Alfred shook his head in mild amusement but continued nonetheless.
"His friend was always there to take care of the house when he was gone and did a wonderful job keeping the outside alive and clean. It was a real shame when he had to go back home though..." Alfred faltered in the end, his mind vaguely recalling old memories of a certain Lithuanian with a gentle smile on his face.
When the car pulled to a stop, Alfred was finally broken from his memories of days long gone and cautiously stepped out of the car as he came face to face with an old building before him. Standing tall with faded blue paint and a modest garden near the front, the two story house spoke years of history.
"Well, we're here." England proclaimed lightly.
Studying every detail as quickly as possible, Alfred couldn't understand one thing as he slowly made his way to the front porch of the house. Why did this house look exactly the same as England's old house in the future timeline? Shouldn't his absence from history's pages caused everything to be different as well?
From the squeaky wooden floor to the white painted fence, Alfred held no words as England led the way to the front door. "It's not like the most modern houses these days but its home." Pushing the house keys into the lock, England turned the knob and opened the door, allowing the all too familiar scent of his house to wash over Alfred as he entered the living room. Unbeknownst to the Briton though, Alfred was fighting back the intense nostalgia that threatened to overtake him as all these familiar senses tried to convince him of something that scared him.
It tried to convince him that his future was nothing but a mere nightmare. Something so far off into the distance and separate from this world, that all the tragic events that took place in his future were simply all conjured up from his mind. Perhaps he had indeed gone mad and imagined everything? But he could time travel!
Couldn't he?
Before he could spiral further down into the emotional torture of deciphering what was real and what was not, Alfred felt something press into his arms and blankly looked down. A small shovel. Glancing up, England held a small frown.
"I hope you weren't lying when you said you were fine, because it appears that my backyard has far more weeds then I last counted."
~Thank you for reading everyone~
