A/N: Hello! It's your author. I just wanted to say a few things. If you don't want to read them, I suppose that's alright, but let me at least say this: Thank you! I was so surprised to see that people followed it, and that made me smile. So, thank you for that. Alright, you may go if you'd like. But I also wanted it to be known that I unfortunately got very sick for a week. So I had hoped to post it sooner, but failed to do so. And school has returned, and I'm going to continue trying to update often! Okay, okay. Enough of me, please enjoy what you came for: The FACE Family.
Arthur crossed his arms. "I'm not buying it."
"But, why?" He pleaded eyes not moving from the bumper sticker. "I'm a joy to be around, this thing is fabulous, I can't see the problem."
Arthur stared. "Well I can. And I don't want it."
The bumper sticker read, The Limeys Were Meant For The Yanks and Alfred thought it was such an adorable saying that he insisted Arthur pay for it and take it back with him to England. When Arthur refused he gave up, glancing over at Matthew who had his eyes locked on a different one. It read, Together We Make The U.S. of Eh. And to Matthew's left was Francis who snorted at the one that had to deal with the French. Hot Liberty Statues Aren't The Only Thing We're Getting Tonight.
Alfred released his usual boisterous laugh at them, and was even more amused at the next few he saw. The one for Japan he found so brilliant he even sent it to Kiku. We Have Their Military, and Their Hearts. Alfred messaged him with a little heart.
There was Russian and Chinese one as well. The War May Have Been Cold, But Our Hearts Have Been Warmed. And, What Else Is Made In China? ;) Alfred considered forwarding them to Yao and Ivan, but rationalized it would have sent the wrong idea and decided against it.
"I might buy them for myself." Alfred decided, holding one in his hand. "I do like them, and I love you guys!" He cheered.
Francis rolled his eyes. Alfred was the most expressive person he knew, and he was well acquainted with Gilbert. Speaking of him, how was he? His condition was said to be improving, but he remembered that Ludwig had mentioned his sickness was rather uneasy to predict. His chest stung, he didn't want to lose his best friend. Other than Antonio, of course.
"Francis, are you good? You didn't look so hot."
Francis swung around in a swift motion to meet Alfred's eyes. "I'm fine, just got lost in thought." He reassured, and Alfred didn't seem to buy it. Instead of pressing like Francis predicted he would do, Alfred dropped the topic keeping his weary eyes on his the rest of the time they strolled through the tourist store.
"We're in Vermont!" Alfred exclaimed. "What do you guys think so far?"
"I mean, it reminds me a lot of every other state you have." Arthur pointed out.
Alfred gasped. "Apologize."
"What? Why?"
Alfred stared, eyes getting watery. "I will never forgive you if you don't apologize for what you just said."
Arthur furrowed his brow, but hastily apologized.
"They're all unique and different with ever changing personalities and interests." He lectured, wagging his pointer finger as if it asserted the point further. Matthew and Francis noted that it didn't, but they weren't going to argue against it.
"Tonight, we're going to Lake Champlain." He paused. "Well, a beach. But you get the gist."
"I don't want to sound… Obnoxious-" Matthew began.
"Like Alfred always is?" Arthur countered at the same time.
Alfred looked a little taken aback in a mock offended way, and Francis rolled his eyes. "Well no." Matthew muttered only to continue. "But, why didn't you just have us go to your other three states first, then come here, and take a ferry to New York?"
Alfred frowned. "I guess… I don't know. That's a good idea. Too bad I didn't think of it first, ahaha!" He let out his usual loud laugh, and snorted. "Maybe you should've planned this trip after all, Mattie!"
With those words, the nations each got into the car. They would make a pitstop back at the hotel to scoop up their swimsuits, and head to the beach. They made their entrance to the motel quickly and were out in minutes. Francis was the only one to be longer than five minutes, saying he needed to coat his makeup with his water resistant stuff. He grabbed a ribbon to tie his hair in, and requested someone braid it in the car.
While braiding was a subject to be followed through with idle gossip, it was instead vicious chatter. Mostly about celebrities and the current Olympic games. A subject which was touchy and competitive. As the personifications were not allowed to play.
The conversation was clips like this,
"Whatever, that call was bullshit!"
"It was totally a net violation you stupid ass!" Matthew countered.
"No it wasn't!" Alfred shouted back. Matthew kicked the back of his seat.
Matthew glared. "You're just jealous that I'm better than you!"
"Are not!"
"Are too!"
"Are not!"
"Boys, let's be real here." Francis commented.
Matthew turned to face him. "You have no room to talk, I killed your rugby team!"
"How dare you." Francis hissed. "Young boy!" He reached for him, fighting past his seat belt.
"Fuck you all. Matthew, I destroyed your rugby team." Arthur added.
Matthew's face turned red. "Shut up!" He returned, embarrassed.
The entire car with the exception of Alfred burst into an argument storm. Matthew ranting about his team's, Arthur boasting about his success over the years, Francis critiquing them both. Words were spat around, and while they were mean, no one meant them. Meanwhile, Alfred aggressively suggested that he would turn this car around.
They arrived at the beach with no physical casualties, only bruised esteems. Alfred was the first to step out of the car, sprinting as fast as he could to kick up sand. Francis was second, strolling out, already lathering himself in tanning lotion. Water proof, mind you. Arthur wearily sighed and followed after, grabbing the beach bag full of items and snacks. Matthew updated his twitter status, regarding the olympics, and was out the door last.
Francis laid on the beach while Arthur helped Alfred with a sand castle and Matthew swam laps. He couldn't help but glance around and view the scenery. They were at Alburg Dunes State Park. The sand was thick, but surprisingly plush. A lone tree sat in the middle of the beach, grass growing around it. He supposed it could be a metaphor. Independence, he mused. When alone keep standing, other people unlike those you're away from will gather around you. The philosophical thoughts were plaguing his mind lately. Maybe the crashing of the world left him with the realization that there wasn't much time left to inquire and think deeper of such simple things. That thought itself was deep.
The sea in front of him was a crystal blue to the grazing eye, but once examined further by the eye of intrigue, it could be seen as clear and developing into a navy with the simple explanation of the waters depths. It was a beautiful contrast to the endless sky above. The color of purity, and safety. Wasn't the world strange? So close to a shitshow, but if you closed your eyes it would pause for just a moment. To immerse yourself in your surroundings, to accept the authentic beauty of such a place, all of this allowed one to disappear. To dissipate. The world's pressure's gone for just a moment. Francis observed such things, to rid of the lingering thoughts of the demise of not the world, but those of the world. Would Gilbert dissipate, not temporarily, but forever? How would one recover from such a loss? It was with this that he let himself take in Alfred's lands, to push hurtful ideas from his brain.
"Isn't it nice!?" Alfred shouted to Matthew, who didn't take notice. The castle was in fact rather pathetic. But Alfred never had castle's in his land, so Francis wasn't surprised at this.
He brushed himself off and approached Alfred, "Where did Angleterre go?"
"Worried about your boyfriend?" He teased, eyes still trained on his 'masterpiece'.
"Not really no."
Alfred looked up. "You aren't denying your love for each other? I knew it! I always knew!"
Francis pursed his lips. "Alfred you're aware you've made out with all three of us, correct?" Alfred nodded, about to speak. "So have I." Francis told him. "If he's my boyfriend, what does that make him to you?"
Alfred frowned. "I never thought about that. Huh."
Francis sighed. "As enlightening as this conversation must be, I'm going to have to re-ask my question. Where is Arthur?"
Alfred's eyes lit up with registration. Francis was getting somewhere, at least. "He's fetching water, over there-" He stopped. "Huh, I could've swore he was just here." He scratched his head in confusion. "Where did he- oh no. Not again."
"What?" Francis asked.
"When I was a kid, whenever Iggy and I were by the water, I'd ask him how long he could hold his breath. Being a pirate and all, he would jump in when I wasn't looking. Then I'd have to find him. The whole thing was to prove he could hold his breath… Goddamn. I don't wanna go searching for him, I wanna add a moat to my castle."
Francis glanced disapprovingly down at the sad sandcastle. Not even a moat could fix that thing. Alfred sent him puppy eyes, and Francis disregarded them for a couple moments. Internally ranting about bad castles was not an easy thing, after all. After he calculated what it was that Alfred was staring at him about, he voiced his reluctance. "No way, I'm not going after him."
"But why?" Alfred groaned. "I've gotta get water for my moat, and Arthur took my bucket. I have to use my hands."
Francis didn't look convinced. "All the more reason to search for him yourself."
"I'll assist you in a splash war. It'll be like the Revolutionary War all over again." He informed him. "You and me against Arthur and Mattie."
Francis pondered this for a moment, disregarding the fact that Matthew wasn't really a part of the Revolution. In fact he was more of a person caught in the crossfire. He shook his head, thinking further about Alfred's deal… It would be fun "Let's search for him together." He offered. Alfred whined, but agreed. "Perfect."
Alfred and Francis jogged in Alfred's case, and Francis strolled, towards the water. Alfred urging him the entire way. "I wonder where Mattie is?"
Behind a booey, Arthur and Matthew conspired. "They'll never see us coming." Arthur told him. Complete and utter confidence in their abilities. "Just an ambush. Think of it like a war."
"You mean like Alfred's war of Independence?"
That struck a nerve, and Arthur struggled not to let it show. "I… Sure Matthew. Sure." Matthew cringed at his own choice of words. Stupid, stupid. He scolded himself. He and Arthur had just made up. "Follow my instructions."
Alfred let his eyes scan the gleaming waters, and tried to avoid the glare of the hot sun. He wasn't upset about it, that was for sure. Just a tad bit frustrated that it was skewing his vision. All of the water he'd transferred to his moat was probably drying up. He felt a pout sit on his lips, and wished Francis would be the only one doing this. He had a damn sandcastle to complete.
"Alfred, help!" Matthew shouted, pretending to thrash. No one else but the four were on this section of the beach, and no one noticed. Except for Alfred.
Alfred's hero instincts kicked in. He went on autopilot, mission save Matthew commence. He swam out with a furious speed, and even Arthur was impressed. "I'm coming Mattie!"
Francis snorted, not worried. "Coming, honhonhon~" At the sick words, what he predicted to occur, happened.
Arthur glared and spoke. "You're sickening! Pervert! Matthew could be hurt."
Francis rolled his eyes. "Matthew's not a moron, he knows how to swim."
Arthur stared. "You caught on to my plan." Eyes never faltering Arthur changed stances. "You know what this means."
"This. Means. War!" Francis screamed with excitement. He loved this game he played with Arthur. It was full of fury and rivalry. Competition, who was better? Who, even after all the time that would pass them by, was the best? At the same time it was real. The two had gone to more wars than he could count. It was brilliant, exhilarating. He couldn't live without this sick feeling, he was addicted. He need Arthur's companionship in his life. It could never be love, but he could never lose this.
Matthew and Alfred had figured out that the game of splashing had only begun, and their tight embrace of panic was released. Alfred's kind eyes turned playful. "I'm gonna kick your ass, Mattie!"
"Fight me!" Matthew returned, and they threw different spouts of water at one another. Matthew using his strong legs to kick up a storm, and Alfred his muscled arms to splash traditionally. However with both of their strength, the scene could look like a tsunami war.
Matthew and Alfred dived towards their allies, and threw more waves at each other. "Eat this, bitch!" Alfred hollered, and pushed a wave into Arthur's- wide open from laughing- mouth.
Arthur coughed, but didn't let himself be deterred. "I was a pirate, Alfred! You don't stand a chance!"
Francis swooped in while Arthur was too caught up in dialogue and nearly enveloped his entire body with the sea. "Now's your chance Alfred!" Alfred swam to grab Arthur, but Matthew intervened.
"Not so fast!" He exclaimed, jumping into Alfred's arms knocking him down. Matthew straddled him. "You're going to have to go through me first!"
Alfred smirked, and brought his lips to Matthew's ear. "Do you know what they call this?" He asked, his voice dropped seductively. Matthew whimpered. "A distraction!" He pushed Matthew off, and sprinted out of his reach.
"That's cheating!" Matthew called after him, but Alfred just laughed as he switched places with Francis. "Avenge me, Arthur!"
"If he lives to tell the tale!" Alfred shouted back cockily. "Haha!" He seized Arthur up into his arms. "Tickle war, commence!"
"Hell no! You bloody wanker, unhand me!" Alfred's fingers danced across his body, and Arthur struggled not to laugh. "Release me, you beast!" Arthur protested, his giggles making his plead seem irrelevant.
The day was perfect, as perfect as one could get. Francis was right after all. Happiness was found through a burdenless time. Very uncommon, but in the right setting with the right people, it was possible. It was joy. Pure, unadulterated joy. The world presented this in miniscule doses. But Francis would cherish every moment he could get of it. Every second he could spend with these three made life worth living.
"I love you guys!" Alfred stated cheerfully as they walked back to the car. "In all honesty… I never thought I would have this as a kid."
"What?" Arthur inquired.
"Well, I wasn't any good. And you and I weren't anything to each other. I thought you hated me. That's not true, I knew you hated me. Why else would you burn my capital to the ground?" He laughed albeit, sadly. "And when Mattie didn't join my conquest, I was a little heartbroken." He said. "Or when I couldn't pay back Francis."
"What're you saying?"
Alfred smiled. "I'm saying… The world was bad back then. No matter what era in history we go to, something unpleasant will happen. That I know. But I know, we're a family. A dysfunctional family, ones that kiss sometimes." He added with a chuckle. "And I wouldn't trade it for the world."
Matthew slid hand into the center. "What are we called?"
"The FACE family." Alfred moved his hand to cover Matthew's.
"What are we called?" Francis prompted, placing his hand over Alfred's.
Arthur sighed with a fond smile on his face. "The FACE family." He put his hand on top of Francis'. Everyone's hands locked, and an unspoken bond travelled between them. Through hell or high water, they were the FACE family. They were a team.
That night in the motel, Alfred's smile hadn't faded. He kept the blinds open, and watched as the stars twinkled in the sky. He felt his mouth ache with the force that he applied to his grin, but he couldn't cause it to disappear.
Arthur plopped down beside him. "Alfred, about your capital, all those years ago…"
Alfred placed his hand over Arthur's, clasping it in his own. "Arthur, I won't lie. I hated you then. But over time, I learned that holding that grudge, I would gain nothing." Arthur couldn't help but notice his hand fit like it was meant to be there. His heart warmed.
"I lov-" He stopped himself. "I'm glad. Come now, let's eat." Alfred let himself be led by Arthur, together still hand in hand.
At the table, they were eating pancakes. Courtesy of Matthew. "Alfred, it's strange. Everyone up here likes maple items. It's nice." He gestured to the bottle. "They have more than 2,000 maple product producers. That's crazy!"
Alfred shrugged. "You're not the only one in the world to like maple. You should meet my state, she's just like Jacob." He paused, lost in thought. "Guys! Would you believe it? I didn't get to finish my sandcastle!" He sighed dreamily. "It was so good, so much potential."
Arthur cringed, and Francis' face gave off the, 'looks into camera like I'm on the office' impression. "Alfred, I don't want to be rude." He braced himself. "It wasn't that good…"
"No way! Shhh! No negativity in my life! I will have none of it!" He screeched, fingers plugging his ears as he violently shook his head. Arthur shot Francis an annoyed look, who just rolls his shoulders noncommittally. "The only thing I wanna hear is nice things! Don't kill the vibe Frenchie!"
"I thought it was great." Matthew tried.
Francis scoffed into his drink. "That's because you didn't see it."
Arthur tried to contain his laughter, he really did.
"Aw, come on Arthur! Whose side are you on?" Alfred whined.
"Alfred, you know I'm not often in agreeance with this frog." He countered. "But if you're castle is bad enough to make me do so, it must truly be awful." With that logic, Alfred was stumped.
Matthew swiveled his chair out of his way in a practiced motion to grab some more pancakes off of the counter. He'd originally intended to eat them in bed, but was chased out of the room when he brought out the syrup. He plopped back down, and downed a… was that a shot? Of Maple syrup.
Alfred snickered. "You want some pancakes with that syrup?" He joked.
Matthew didn't get the joke for a moment. "Har de har, har." He ignored his teasing as he continued his usual pancake rituals. "Who's the most beautiful pancake in the world?" He would whisper before eating the pure fluff. "Mmm."
Francis looked low key disgusted. "Time for bed."
Arthur couldn't agree more, and stumbled after hitting his knees to hard on the table in a rush to get to bed.
Alfred's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "What's the rush Iggy?"
Arthur who was already in bed, sighed. "I… It's nothing."
Alfred bridled at being brushed off yet again. Twice in one day, he made an observation to his friends wellbeings, and each time he was ignored. He wanted to be the hero, and while he understood privacy this was ridiculous. Hadn't they just established that they were a family? Hadn't Alfred just poured out his heart, regarding his fears as a child?
He snapped. "I can't take it!" His bostonian accent present. "I'm done, we just discussed this. If you wanna keep sec'ets, that's fine. But when you swea' that we' family, and you ain't doin' nothin' to prove it, you' scum." He hated that his accent made him so hard to decipher. He sighed, and tried to regain his usual voice. "Listen guys, I'm just saying that we're a team. Don't hide things from me!"
Arthur's mouth hung open. "I'm sorry Alfred." He exhaled slowly. "I just wanted to go to bed fast, because I was afraid that if I didn't end today here, I wouldn't be able to cherish today's purity in my brain forever. I didn't want anything to happen." He shook his head. "I always do this, I always mess it up." He didn't want to cry. Not after how perfect today had been.
Alfred felt a bit guilty, but he wasn't really to blame. If everyone would just be honest with him, he wouldn't have to scold them. He treaded over lightly, cautiously. He placed himself on to the bed next to him. "I'm sorry Arthur. I didn't want to hurt your feelings."
"Your accent faded." Matthew stated.
Alfred whipped to face him. "My what?"
"It's gone. You got rid of it during your next few phrases. You must have wanted us to understand you better. You wanted so badly you changed you accent." Matthew told him, a fond smile on his face.
Alfred frowned, before reaching his hand up to touch his lips. Matthew was right, Alfred cared so much about getting his message through that he eliminated his usual accent during these situations. "I… I did." He grinned. "I did Mattie!"
Francis stared. He turned his gaze to Arthur. They both shared a common thought. And it wasn't a happy one. As it appeared, Alfred was overwhelmed with emotions at all times. After all, his entire country was against itself. Always divided. And when Alfred wanted to be, he could be lovely. He was charming, and he was empathetic. But he could also be cruel. Arthur told Francis about it that morning, when they were the only one's awake. That Alfred was hard, and Alfred was cold. Francis and Arthur didn't want to confide in Alfred for the sole purpose of his unpredictable actions. Yet at the same time, he was so caring, and wanted good so much that it hurt Francis and Arthur both to avoid his eyes and not trust him with their emotions.
Alfred could faintly understand this. Not the fact that he, well he almost had a split personality. Alfred made no note of this. How could he? After all, the insane thought they were quite rational. No, he just knew that he wasn't the brightest. And that was why it hurt so much when they rejected to inform him of their issues. He felt useless, and weak. He strived to be a hero, and when that right was denied to him, he hated himself.
Matthew chewed his lip. How could someone be so sad, but so happy? The only way to explain it would be with such simple words. Alfred was sad. Alone, and afraid. Matthew knew there were other words that did the same job, but looked better. Like solitary, and frightened. But it was alone and afraid that state it as it should be. Alfred would smile, and Matthew felt his chest swell. Be it pain, he didn't know.
"You did it Alfred. You really did." Matthew was almost sure he understood why it mattered. It demonstrated control. It proved that Alfred was able to handle himself, that he could be mature. That he could understand. And that was all Alfred craved. Was for people to accept him, and to see him as even mildly intelligent. His accent control, his passion, his words, they showed he had a grasp. And that he was bright.
Alfred smiled. "See, I like this guys."
Francis sighed. All that Alfred wanted to do was display sanity. Show that he could be of help. Francis ran a tired hand through disheveled hair. "Yes, and Alfred, thank you."
Alfred quirked his head. "What for?"
"This trip. It's doing revels for the mind, and wonders for my skin."
Alfred tipped his head back and let out a throaty laugh. "Ah man."
Arthur blew air out his nose, still not sure what to do. Alfred was like a mythical creature. He thought, everyone thought, they knew so much about him. Yet here they were learning more about him in a single night than they ever would have before. As strange as the simile was, Alfred was like a onion. You peel off layer after layer, and each one makes you cry.
"I suppose it's time to go to bed." Arthur decided.
Matthew nodded in confirmation. "I agree, eh."
Alfred dived onto the bed that Francis was sprawled out on. "Sweet," He breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad we resolved that guys."
Arthur couldn't agree. He didn't feel resolved, if anything he felt more tense. He made a mistake, and he hurt Alfred. But Alfred terrified him. Alfred's ideas, his goals, his personality. He was confused, lost, upset. He loved Alfred, but it appeared he knew nothing.
He let himself collapse onto the heap of white blankets. They had an ugly yellow tint to them, matching the floor. He let his eyes drift to the headboard, it was covered in splinters and Arthur made a note to avoid touching it. Matthew lay beside him, motionless watching the ceiling. Arthur tried to find what he was looking at, what captured his mind so strongly. He wondered if he would fall into that type of trance. One that would lull him to sleep.
Matthew wasn't anywhere near sleep. He had questions spiralling through his mind. After everything that was fixed with Arthur, he couldn't help but question the nature of their relationship. Arthur still ruled his country, but was there love? Did Matthew even love Arthur? He couldn't decide, and allowed his thoughts to spiral into a whole new topic. What was Alfred doing right now? And Francis? And did he just a hear a moan? … He supposed he did. There was no way he would be sleeping tonight.
Alfred attacked Francis' neck as soon as the lights were off. He pinned his hands over his head, fingers gripping the wrists so hard Francis was certain it would leave bruises. Alfred's tongue worked magic, wandering Francis' neck body, chewing on his ear lobe. Francis moaned, and Alfred brought his fingers up to run under his shirt. "Do you like that?" He whispered, his hot breath kissing the shell of his ear.
"God, yes, Alfred…"
Alfred nodded in satisfaction, trying to rid his mind of his inner turmoil. How did he feel about Francis? Did Francis even like him? Did Francis trust him? His mind moved to Arthur accidentally, wondering the same about Arthur. He growled in frustration and thrusted his hips against the nation beneath him, biting down on his throat, just barely grazing the jugular.
Francis could hear himself panting, his legs spread in anticipation. He hated himself at this moment, but he knew Alfred was lost in his own head, and in this instance Francis would allow him to what he pleased.
The scene was lewd, it was sickening. They weren't even more than two yards away from their friends. Alfred couldn't bring himself to regret it, his thoughts of anger clouding his rationality. Francis knew exactly what he was doing, he wanted to regret it, so badly. But with the way Alfred's fingers inched lower, and swirled on his milky skin, Francis couldn't bring himself to protest. Alfred would hiss out words of twisted pleasure, and Francis would lean into the touch. It was messed up, it was a mistake, but if so, Francis would take pleasure in making one of the biggest mistakes in his life.
Francis yawned, but noticed he wasn't the first awake. Arthur was in the 'kitchen' portion of the motel room. He looked exhausted, bags under his eyes. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, and his eyes rested on the figure beside , rested wouldn't be the word. Anxiously watched, would be more like it. But Arthur didn't seem to be aware of it.
Francis hadn't noticed before, but the shower was in occupation. Matthew was no longer in his bed. Francis decided that if Arthur looked like this, Matthew couldn't be far behind. He couldn't help but assume it was because of his and Alfred's… intimate actions last night.
"Arthur?"
Arthur's eyes snapped up to meet his eyes. "What?" He bit back. Looking closer, Francis wondered if he could make out tear stains under his eyes. With sadness, Francis wondered what happened to their beach yesterday? It was paradise, they were safe for just a day. Not even, apparently.
"Just wondering when you woke." Francis answered, keeping his frustration out of his voice. For one in his life he didn't want to bicker with Arthur.
Arthur's nostrils flared, and he turned to see the clock. "Six hours ago."
"We went to bed six hours ago." Francis pointed out, and Arthur didn't even blink.
"It appeared that you didn't either." He returned blatantly ignoring the 'we', and let his eyes relocate to Alfred's sleeping form. It was a comforting sight. The weight of the world was no longer on Alfred, and he looked peaceful.
Francis glanced back at Arthur, his words not inaccurate, but stabbed with accusation. "Arthur…" He muttered, not entirely sure what to say.
"Don't pity me frog. Wake up Alfred, I imagine he wants us to get an early start."
Francis wanted to say something, but argued against his own brain. He went to nudge his sleeping friend, and noticed that the was quivering. He brushed back Alfred's bangs, and he could see tears were streaming down his face. "Alfred?"
"Stop, stop it!" He pleaded, his voice nothing more than a dull whisper.
Arthur looked over in confusion.
"Please," Alfred begged, beginning to thrash. "Stop fighting each other!" Arthur stood from his old creaky wooden chair, hurrying over to the nation. Matthew stepped out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel, but Francis didn't notice it. Too focused on Alfred. "We're a country of acceptance… That's all I wanted."
"Alfred, wake up." Francis urged.
Alfred couldn't hear him. "You're gonna get hurt, leave each other alone! Race shouldn't mean anything, we're all human." Matthew threw on a pair of shorts he wore for hockey, and raced over to his friend.
"Alfie, wake up…" He said, shaking him. "Please Alfred."
Alfred didn't react. "You're scaring them, leave it alone!"
Arthur grabbed Alfred's shoulders, and rested his head on his chest. Listening to his heartbeat. Racing, Alfred was having a panic attack. The hate of the world, the discrimination ever present in his nation to this day was worsening, and so was his optimism. "Wake up, Alfred." He breathed. "AMERICA, wake up!"
Alfred gasped, sitting up. His arms wrapped around Arthur. "They were fighting again… Why do they fight? Why do they always fight?" He shook his head sadly. "Don't they understand what I intended, I want equality. Don't they know what this meant?" He lifted his shirt, and pulled down his shorts low enough to reveal an ugly jagged scar. It went right across his body, and around the back too.
"Alfred, what is that?" Francis inquired.
Arthur answered for him. "When Alfred fought himself, he quite literally tore himself apart."
Matthew chewed his lip, eyes welling with tears. "Alfred." He enveloped Alfred in a hug, and Arthur by default of position.
Francis smiled, and dived onto the pile of nations. Alfred let out a weak laugh. Everyone held onto each other, and at hearing Alfred's newfound happiness, they dissolved into laughter. What they were laughing about, no one was quite sure. Alfred was too overwhelmed with the prospect of family to care. All four ended up crying, smiles on their faces.
Francis and Arthur shared a look. Alfred was broken. But he couldn't help it. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to talk to him, perhaps he would even understand their struggles.
"We should probably get ready to go." He smiled.
The four prepared themselves for the day, Arthur checking the clock and viewing that it was 8. They had shared an embrace for around an hour. He glanced at himself in the mirror, and couldn't help but notice the bags under his eyes were just a little less noticeable now.
The car ride was a disaster. Alfred was irritably shouting out the window. "FORD FOCUS LESS ON YOUR DIVORCE AND MORE ABOUT THE ROAD." And, "NISSAN PATHFINDER- YOUR DAMN LICENSE." The entire affair got more than a few heads turned, and middle fingers sent their way. Regardless, they arrived to their next location without crashing, and that was all they could ask for.
"What are we doing here"
Alfred grinned. "Meeting someone."
At the words, appeared a girl with dark brown hair in a ponytail. Her side bangs curled as they framed her large hazel eyes. She had beautiful lips and a clear complexion. Was Francis drooling? Absolutely. She approached them, a small smile gracing her gorgeous features. "I'm Vermont, or I suppose Ava, Ava Johnson."
Francis dropped to his knees. "A suggestion, you, me, marriage."
Matthew rolled his eyes, unable to contain his jealousy. He shook it off, Francis was always flirty, and he and Francis weren't anything. He'd proved that last night with Alfred. Matthew wanted to be mad at Alfred, but Alfred had no idea of the nature of their relationship, and he wasn't to blame.
She shoved him, not aware of her strength, and knocked him off his feet. "I'm so sorry, I uh-"
"I need a bandaid." He said suddenly.
"I'd think so, I didn't mean to…"
His grin became cat like. "Do you know why?"
She furrowed her brow. "No?"
"Because I've fallen for you."
Alfred sighed. "Should've seen that coming." He told her.
Arthur snickered, having heard the pickup line from Francis' mouth before. Himself included. "Saw it from a mile away."
At his voice she turned, her body stiffened momentarily. Why on earth did Alfred bring him to such a place, when he knew what it meant? She exhaled sharply, shaking her sudden freak out off. "Ah, Mr. Kirkland, I never thought I'd see you in this location again."
Arthur cocked his head. "Whatever do you mea-" His eyes scanned the perimeter, and understood what Vermont was referring to. They were at a monument, the Battle of Bennington.
Canadian's were present at this battle, she noted. And looked at Matthew. He seemed to recognize the location. "Matthew, a pleasure to see you." She offered. They had both thrown a few punches at one another during the war. She didn't regret it, but it certainly made things awkward.
"Alfred, may I speak to you?" She asked charmingly, blinking her eyes rapidly.
Alfred looked a bit shocked but agreed. "Yeah, of course."
Her face didn't change. "Alone."
She didn't wait for his answer, and dragged him out of the view of his companions. As soon as they were in the clear, she brought her hand up to his face and promptly slapped him. Not waiting for him to speak, she began. "You moron!"
Alfred frowned. "Ow, what did I do?"
"You brought them to a battle sight? About a war they participated in?" She ran a frustrated hand through her bangs. "Idiot, idiot, idiot. Alfred, I've known you for a long time. And this is plain stupidity!"
Alfred bit his lip. "Why?"
"If you were to do anything like this, at least make it dramatic! Otherwise it just seems heartless. This was a battle, but certainly not the worst. This was pointless. Now young man," She slapped four tickets into his chest. "You will be going to Hildene, whether you like it or not. And you will be an accodamable and considerate host for the rest of your trip. Are we clear?"
He let his head hang. She was so much like a mom in some ways. "Yes… Mother."
"Oi!"
The regrouping process was decent. Arthur a tad bit jealous, Matthew hella confused, Francis turned on, and Ava ready to go. She blew them all a kiss, ignored Francis' purring, and told Alfred to call her. Much to Arthur's displeasure. Though, he had no context, so his anger was irrational and childish.
"Get in the car kids, we're going to Manchester!"
For once, no one argued in the car. Kidding, of course they did. The Olympics were back and at full discussion. Alfred and Arthur were bragging, but when Arthur got out of line, Alfred would kindly remind him that Alfred had practically twice as many. Francis was in seventh, and only threw in occasional comments. Matthew kept his mouth shut, being in twentieth. Alfred just pat him on the back.
"We can't all be as good as me." Alfred would say, as if it were actually a consoling comment. He was insensitive as usual, but Francis and Arthur made eye contact, and relished that the idiotic nation was trying.
Matthew just chuckled awkwardly, "Thanks, Al…"
"Man, 121 medals. It feels nice." He stretched. "Hey Arthur, your matching bag idea, stupid as hell. Haha!" He snorted in his laughter, and everyone but Arthur joined in, because realistically it was pretty hilarious. "Ah man, all three of your added together is only ten more than my own numbers."
"This is why no one likes you, Alfred." Arthur chastised.
Alfred rolled his eyes. "At least I'm not a… pompous, churlish, unmagnanimous, scone-eating, tea-sipping, jerkface."
"Went from a ten to a two, real fast." Francis told him, shaking his head about the insults.
"Damn."
Matthew shook his head. "Can't all be winners."
They arrived at the large home. It was a well manicured, pristine grey mansion with dark sea green shutters, and white accents accompanying it. The shrubs cut immaculately, with slick precision. Little bricks framed by tamed green grass led to the entrance. Flowers of an assortment of all colors present, ranging from eye catching pinks, to delicate lavenders.
Alfred released a sigh at the looks of amazement on the faces of his companions. They seemed to be in awe of the wonderful home. Francis with a flushed face, and observant eyes. Matthew with a small smile, bashfulness shown. And Arthur a bit bug eyed, mouth wide in amazement. Alfred was good friends with his old friend Robert. They grew up together, after all Alfred was a teenager during the Civil War. When he quite literally tore himself apart.
"This was Robert Lincoln's summer home. He always liked Vermont. He was the eldest son of Mr. Abraham Lincoln. Robert… passed away in '26. I miss him." Alfred told them, eyes averted glistening with tears.
"Oh, Alfred…" Arthur began.
Alfred interrupted him, smiling. He shouldn't be sad. Humans weren't immortal, and he could never have a true human friend. While it hurt, he should be glad that Robert died peacefully. Alfred couldn't help thinking bitterly that immortality was a curse, and that being a personification was a punishment in more ways than it was an honor.
"Let's check out the back, and later we can check out the interior, yeah?"
Matthew smiled. "Yes, that would be wonderful Alfred. Take your time." Matthew slid his hand into Alfred's. "We all understand that being immortal isn't easy."
Francis' eyes lingered on a set of flowers, understanding Alfred's pain. "You'll see him again, Alfred. Only, it won't be him."
Alfred frowned. "What?"
"I saw Joan, only, now she is Lisa. And knows nothing of what she's done. It's beautiful, and yet it fills my heart with sorrow. You'll see Robert, only next time, it will be John. Or maybe Rick." He put an arm around Alfred's shoulder. "It's a gorgeous cycle, non?"
Alfred chewed his lip, trying to avoid letting tears spill. "Yeah, it really is."
Arthur added his input. "And even in immortality, we all have each other. Not even just us, the other nations."
Alfred and Francis both laughed sadly. Alfred thinking that no one liked him, everyone was so mean. Brushing off his ideas, telling him off, and pushing him aside like an idiot. Francis knowing that Gilbert wouldn't last forever, and he and Antonio would be left without their best friend.
Alfred and Francis chose not to voice their insecurities. "We do." They said together, and the tour was continued.
The back was just as, if not more beautiful than the front.
It was a bit more open, the grass all the same shade of perfect but standard green. More shrubs sectioning off four different locations of said. Flowers in the middle. Now the colors viewable even included sunny yellows and whimsical cream. A petite wall of stones bordered off the valley below, where infinite clusters of trees resided. Their leaves dappled, undescribable of certain color as the sun beamed down on them. The scene was gorgeous. Pure, Alfred mused. He felt as though this location was one he could view as untainted.
"Jeez, if I were to marry I'd wish it were here, eh." Matthew broke the silence, eyes scanning the perimeter.
Alfred allowed his hearty laugh to ring out. "It's possible."
"What's the inside like?" Arthur asked, genuine curiosity laced in his voice. He tried to make it seem otherwise. "I mean, I'm sure it's normal but-"
Alfred wasn't paying attention. "Oh yes, Robert loved astronomy. I promised him I'd get to the moon for him! And I did!"
Matthew walked closer and slid his hand into Alfred's. Matthew wasn't sure why he was doing it. He most certainly loved Alfred. And when Alfred's attention was solely on him, Matthew was elated that he was more important, or at least felt so, than everyone else. But another part of him craved Francis to see that he was also capable of getting with someone. It was selfish, but at the same time, it was great.
Francis didn't seem to notice, busy watching Arthur's blush. Arthur and him had known each other for a very long time. They'd had their fair share of war, and Arthur and him didn't always get along, but Francis loved Arthur. Mostly platonically, and sometimes sexually, but he wasn't sure romantically. Either way, if Alfred and Matthew were to hold hands, would it not be wrong for Francis to do the same? With that thought in mind, he slid his fingers into Arthur's.
"Man," Alfred said, sighing in euphoria, after his explanation. "Let's head in, and after we're done, we can head back to the hotel."
"Splendid idea, mon ami." Francis assured, and the four set up looking like couples.
"Damn, Vermont went fast." Alfred groaned.
"I only wonder what the next state holds." Arthur muttered.
Matthew paused. "What if we like… ran into someone? Ew, socialization."
Francis scowled. "What the fuck is this then?" He asked, but his voice held no malice. The group burst into laughter.
"What state is next Alfred?"
Alfred smirked, "Massachusetts, here we come!"
A/N: 3/50! Yet again, I apologize, I've never been to Vermont, so I do not know too much about it. I only have what research I could scrounge up. Once again, sorry if anything is inaccurate.
