Back again on another lovely Wednesday afternoon to bring you lovely readers chapter 4 of Shatter! Yay!

Super big thanks to one of my amazing betas, the wonderful Kay the Beta! Whose name is now a thousand and one times easier for me to type out! xD

Reviews:

Kay: Hooray! :) Figured I'd get it right after two or three tries. :P

Trumpet-Geek: Extremely ironic. XD Oh, yes, 'the voice' ;) Well, you won't have to wait too long!

NewMoon29: It really is! I get so excited when I recognize dates or events in fanfiction.

George: Glad to see you found some time out of your crazy schedule to come wander over into my corner! Well, hopefully I can teach you a thing or two about the war, or at least give you some interesting little facts! Yeah, it's hard keeping an update schedule, but it's nice to have a bit of consistency. It's very different from my wild updates with American Trains and Risico. Trying something new! :)

Kitty-Kat Allie: Mmm, It's good to see folks using such a great resource like Kay the Beta's youtube channel (And for those of you who haven't subscribed, go do so. She gives her subscribers the music and updates for the amazing George deValier's Vera-verse stories! How awesome is that! :D You can find it on her page). Yes, Lincoln is certainly an admirable man! He's up there with my favorite presidents as well (Teddy Roosevelt takes 1st place though. Gotta love 'im!) N'awww, I know, poor Alfie!

Now then, on to show!


April 17, 1861

Alfred smirked slyly at his reflection in the old mirror that was hung high on the guest bedroom's wall. He combed his fingers through the unruly mess of his fallow-gold hair with a light chuckle. He had a distinct reason to be much more upbeat than his previously downcast mood. Finally, things were starting to actually go his way in the matters of the impending war.

Lincoln's decree of insurrection for the Confederate States, along with the call for army volunteers was going quite well. It was clear that his people were eager to see the war ended quickly. The Northern militias were already starting to train the massive wave of eager new soldiers, and Alfred was confident that the North's superior numbers would quickly overcome the South.

Alfred's grin widened. The Confederacy wasn't having as much luck with that same proposition of mustering up enough troops to match the Union army.

"You're a fool…"

The young nation flinched. He slammed his hands down on the dresser top as his skin suddenly tingled with a cold sweat. His eyes darted about the room wildly, but noted nothing out of place. These unnerving occurrences were becoming more and more frequent. The darkly drawled voice haunted him every chance it got, making Alfred jittery and nervous.

A sudden rapping on the door made him jump, and he knocked over a dainty vase. It struck the floor and shattered, leaving a dusty pile of cracked fragments scattered at Alfred's feet. He swore, stepping back from the mess.

"Mr. America, are you all right?" A meek voice asked from behind the closed door.

"Yes!" He answered quickly while nudging the fragments under the dresser with his foot.

"May I enter?"

He pushed the last of the broken vase under the dresser as fast as he could. He would have to clean that up later, as he wasn't particularly in the mood to be scolded by the servants for breaking expensive vases.

"Yes. Enter." He finally responded.

A stout, round servant entered with a concerned look on her rosy face.

"My dear, I heard a crash. Are you sure you are well?"

"Yes." He affirmed. "I'm fine." He inhaled sharply, and had a false smile on his lips. He hoped his lie would be enough to reassure her.

The servant woman nodded before fishing out a note from her apron pouch.

"This just came in, addressed to you."

Alfred took the paper and thanked her. The moment the servant left and shut the door behind her, the young nation sunk to the floor with an overwhelming sensation of dread flooding his weary heart. His stomach knotted painfully as his back scraped down the textured surface of the dresser. Alfred couldn't bring himself to care about that slight pain as he unfolded the unwelcome parchment.

The blond nation read each line carefully before pushing the note under the dresser along with broken shards of the vase. He never wanted to see either ever again.

Alfred brought his knees to his chest with a defeated sigh. He shuddered violently. An eerie chill shot down his spine as the malicious voice from earlier returned.

"Mine…"

Virginia had left the Union, along with one their finest generals: Robert E. Lee…


May 13, 1861

"Can I trust that you will deliver Mr. Palmerston and Her Majesty's verdict without losing hold of your emotions, Mr. Kirkland?" Asked the diplomat as he walked beside his irritable nation.

Arthur scoffed, his emerald eyes narrowing in displeasure. The man had some nerve, acting as if Arthur was an overly emotional child!

"I assure you, Lyons, that my emotions will not be the problem."

Lord Lyons smirked.

"That I can believe. As for Mr. America, I have my doubts. He seems to be a wild one."

"He always was." Arthur murmured nostalgically as they approached the grand doors to the meeting room.

The old nation sighed sadly as they entered the wide, grand room. He hadn't seen his former colony face to face in nearly fifty years. The Warof 1812 had divided them so deeply that Arthur wasn't sure he would have wanted to see America in the aftermath. He had tried to reason with the young nation after France had finally been put under control, but he had been met with snobbish resistance. He'd even tried to be friendly: going so far as to enforce Alfred's Monroe Doctrine despite early hardships. Alfred had seemed indifferent to that as well.

But then came the Oregon dispute and their scrap over the Mosquito Coast, which only drove the wedge between them even further. Arthur had refused to see Alfred during those later negotiations, and the younger nation hadn't objected at all.

Certainly, their trade relations had begun again, but that was more from necessity than from friendliness. Diplomats were stationed on either side peacefully, but neither had visited the other's home since they'd walked away from each other at Ghent.

Arthur felt a pang of regret flood his heart as he remembered that day. The Brit had turned his back on Alfred with a disgusted sneer on his face; he had been so enraged by the fact that the upstart nation had humiliated him once again. Of course the old nation had been furious, but he hadn't earnestly meant to drive Alfred away for close to fifty years. He missed the boisterous, cheerful lad he'd known for so long.

Finally, he would be seeing his former charge again, once more on account of impending war.

At least this time I won't have to be shooting at him. I hope.

The emerald-eyed nation took his seat at the table beside Lord Lyons as they waited for Alfred and the American diplomat, Charles Adams. Francis would be arriving as well with one of his emissaries, Edouard Thouvenel.

Arthur became lost in his memories again until a pair of servants opened the doors to the meeting room; his eyes darted up to see Alfred and Adams entering. Arthur and Lord Lyons rose from their seats to greet their American guests with customary politeness.

When Arthur shook the blue-eyed nation's hand he noted, with a deep concern, that Alfred's grip was slack and devoid of his usual strength. He met the younger's eyes for a brief moment. The usually clear, bright blues were dark and a bit out of focus. The older nation also noticed the weary expression, pallid skin and dark circles under his former charge's eyes. He looked dreadful.

Arthur withdrew his hand without mentioning any of these things, as it would have been unacceptably rude, and took his seat beside Lyons. The diplomat had only to shoot Arthur a quick glance, and the nation easily replaced any concern he might have shown for a cold, apathetic mask. It came as easily as breathing for Arthur. He'd been dealing with these sorts of things for hundreds of years, and it showed.

While Arthur may have been able to put up an icy shield, Alfred found he was too dazed and tired to care. It was surreal, seeing the emerald-eyed nation again. He looked every bit as the blue-eyed nation recalled him: intense green eyes, messy gold hair, a proud aura fit for a king and the perfect poise of a gentleman. It struck a chord of pain in Alfred's heart to see Arthur glaring at him apathetically. He much preferred when his former caretaker smiled, as he had before the Revolution. Arthur had a rare smile that could have chased away all the darkness looming over Alfred.

The young nation couldn't recall the last time Arthur had smiled at him; he wished for a genuine smile, not the cruel, cocky smirk at the end of a victorious battle that Alfred had become accustomed to. He wanted the darkness to go away. He wanted Arthur to make it all better like he used to. No matter how childish it made him feel, Alfred would have been perfectly happy to curl up in his former caretaker's arms again.

Vaguely, the younger nation knew that Adams and Lyons were discussing the disastrous divide in his lands, but he couldn't seem to focus on their words. It sounded like a raucous jumble of muffled syllables that he couldn't decipher no matter how hard he tried. Eventually, he gave up and focused all his attentions on the older nation sitting across from him.

It was hard to look directly at that face. He loathed the way Arthur's once warm emeralds were now a vicious, cold viridianthat pierced his soul accusingly. It felt as if Arthur was deliberately trying to guilt him. Of what, Alfred wasn't sure; it could have been a dozen or more things: the Revolution, the War of 1812, Oregon, the Monroe Doctrine, the Aroostook War, anything.

"Ah, I see you have begun without moi!" A familiar, sly voice chimed as the servants opened the heavy doors once again.

All four men turned to watch Francis saunter into the room with his usual arrogance. He tossed his richly embroidered blue coat over the back of his designated seat beside Arthur, and sat in his assigned place. His diplomat did the same.

The Frenchman outstretched his hand to shake with Alfred and flashed him his usual devilish smirk, but a look of concern crossed his deep sapphire eyes.

"Mon Dieu, Amérique!" He exclaimed, noting the young nation's haggard appearance. "You look terrible!"

Alfred felt his lip twitch. Arthur scowled. Leave it Francis to be unmistakably blunt and rude where Arthur had tried to be discreet.

"Thanks, France…"

Said man gave him another concerned look, but said no more as the diplomats resumed discussing. He put on as cold a mask as Arthur's then, and simply watched the two. Even if he was concerned for Alfred, this was still official business.

The young nation once again became keenly aware of Arthur's eyes on him, and Francis' as well. It became so unnerving in his volatile state, that Alfred couldn't help but try to arrest it.

"Stop it…" Alfred hissed under his breath.

None of the diplomats seemed to notice, locked in their own debate, but Arthur and Francis heard. The English nation cocked an ample brow while retaining his aloof façade.

"Pardon?" He returned in a whisper.

"Stop staring at me." Alfred ordered, his voice hoarse with unbridled emotion. While it was mainly directed at Arthur, he did wish Francis would at least have the decency to look away. Naturally he started on in curiosity.

The Brit seemed to take it as a vindictive challenge.

"Make me, America."

"Angleterre…" Francis warned, but Arthur paid him no heed.

Alfred growled low, eyes narrowing in anger. Why did Arthur have to act so cruel? Couldn't he see just how badly Alfred was hurting over this? Couldn't he hear the raw emotion in the younger's voice?

"Please stop." The younger pleaded.

"No. I'll do as I please." Arthur returned, straightening his shoulders, and crossing his arms before his chest. Damn Alfred and that desperate voice of his. It nearly ripped that apathetic mask he'd been holding right from the older, but he refused to be bested in front of not just three prominent diplomats, but Francis as well.

"Mes amis, s'il vous plait…." Francis began pleadingly. He was proverbially far enough from the situation to be able to see the burgeoning disaster about to unfold if this continued.

No, Francis. I still have my pride to maintain. Arthur thought firmly, if only to reassure himself of the cruel blow he was inflicting upon the distraught nation.

Alfred sighed dejectedly, posture slouching even further. The young nation was just too tired to fight with Arthur. He averted his eyes, willing that if he ignored him, Arthur and his angry emerald eyes would go away. Of course itdidn't work, and unfortunately Lord Lyons noticed the young nation's disrespectful pose.

"Are we boring you, Mr. America?"

Alfred nearly jumped from his seat, taken aback by the sudden comment and brazenness of the accusation. Adams shifted uncomfortably beside his weary nation while the others all watched, waiting to gauge the accused country's reaction.

A bead of sweat trickled down the American diplomat's neck as he silently prayed Alfred wouldn'tdo anything drastic. The young nation had become exceedingly prominent to violent outbursts as of late.

Thankfully, he didn't.

Alfred simply clamped his jaw shut, grinding his teeth together to avoid retorting. He didn't trust his emotional state to give him a passive voice or an acceptable response. He then shook his head, and motioned for them to continue.

Lyons did so with a pompous scoff.

"The United Kingdom has come to the conclusion of its identity regarding the American troubles between your Northern and Southern regions. We will declare a state of neutrality. However, we have yet to decide upon the recognition of the Confederate States of America. You will have our answer when we are ready to give you one."

"The French Republic has also decided upon this same course of action. We will meet again later to discus recognition if the rebellion is not put down in a timely manner." Thouvenel chimed in.

"What!" Alfred bellowed suddenly. He jumped to his feet so quickly that his seat toppled backwards to the floor. "You can't! You can't recognize a rebellion as a nation! What the hell is wrong with you people?"

"And just what do you think you were?" Arthur spit back a bit more sharply than he had intended. "We so graciously allowed you recognition."

Alfred stood silently stunned, locking eyes with his former caretaker. Francis groaned, seeing the pain glistening so plainly in Alfred's eyes.

"B-but…" He tried, but found his voice choked off.

Arthur rose slowly, breaking the contact, and dusted off the imaginary specks on his coat.

"You have our answer, ergo, this meeting is adjourned." He declared with an icy tongue that made Alfred's heart murmur in terrible pain. How could Arthur be like this to him? This was completely different from the Revolution, wasn't it? The Confederacy wasn't a nation! There was no living, breathing soul, like Alfred, there to watch over it. Alfred was a real being, who hurt, loved, bled and laughed just like Arthur, or Francis or any other nation. Were they just going to sit back and watch him get torn to shreds? Maybe even reward the people who did with sovereignty?

From somewhere, Alfred could hear the distinct rumble of vile laughter. He wished it was Arthur or Francis, but knew that it couldn't be. Neither nation showed any hint of emotion past their neutral expressions. The young nation shuddered, biting his lip harshly.

Alfred still stood in shock as France rose as well with a sympathetic farewell. Alfred didn't respond, merely watching as Arthur, Francis and their diplomats left Adams and his nation alone in the giant room.

The mortal man patted his nation's shoulder.

"Come along, Mr. America. I believe we are done here."

As Alfred turned to follow his diplomat numbly, Francis chose the opportune moment to cut Arthur off as they walked down the hallway adjoining the meeting room.

"To hell with you, Francis! Out of my way!" Arthur growled lowly. He wasn't in any mood to deal with his old rival.

"Non, Arthur. We need to talk about this."

"There is nothing to discuss, Frog! Now move, or I will make you!"

Francis either didn't care or wasn't intimidated by the shorter nation he had known for so long, as he didn't budge.

"Something is wrong with little Alfred. Did you not see?"

"I saw, but that doesn't mean I care." Arthur growled back. That was a lie. It broke Arthur's old heart to walk away from Alfred's pained expression.

"You lie, Arthur. I know very well that you still care for him."

"I couldn't care less if his whole bloody country went up in flames and I never spoke with him again!" Arthur declared.

Francis sighed, and a sad smile formed on his lips.

"Angleterre, that is a terrible thing to say about the man you love."

"Shut up, Frog! I don't love him! Now move!" The Englishman roared, pushing his old rival with as much dejected strength as he could muster. Francis could have resisted, but chose to let Arthur through without much effort.

Arthur felt the Frenchman's eyes bore into his back as he stormed away, but refused to acknowledge him.

Damn you, Francis. I hate that you know. I loathe the very fact that you can see that I can't let go of my feelings for that stupid American. Let the prat destroy himself, so that maybe then my heart will stop hurting and I can get on with my life!

Arthur had to stop himself. How could he have possibly thought that about Alfred? Childish, affectionate, wild, slightly frustrating Alfred…but still the very same man he'd fallen in love with so long ago…

No. No, I don't wish that on him.Arthur thought sadly.

Of course, Arthur knew the pain of civil wars and revolutions. It was something nearly all the older nations had experienced and understood. It was just another dark part of their lives. And unfortunately for Alfred, it had come at one of the worst possible times.

Arthur's emotions flooded with sympathy for the young nation. For Arthur, the War of the Roses had been devastating, but it had occurred much later in his life. His age and experience had helped him manage through the terrible time. Alfred didn't have that luxury. He was young and war-weary as it was. The poor lad was probably so terrified right now.

I'm sorry, dear Alfred, but you have to deal with this on your own. I can only pray that you will survive such a divide. I will watch over you, but understand that I cannot intervene. This is something you must learn from experience…

Arthur continued walking, following after Lyons with his eyes downcast. As he left the tall building, and headed for home, Alfred was boarding his return vessel to begin the journey back to his bitter lands.

As Alfred stepped onto the deck, he drew in a shuddering breath, and walked to the very edge of the railing. Looking down at the swirling waters, he felt a single, stray tear dribble down his cheek, crest at his chin, and then plummet into the brackish water below.

"You're alone…"

History:

On April 17th, in 1861, Virginia decided to secede from the Union after Lincoln declared a state of insurrection against the Union by the Confederacy. An insurrection is just a stronger word for a violent rebellion or revolt.

It was a low blow to the Union, and severely dampened morale. It was also a turning point in military prowess. The Confederates now had Robert E. Lee on their side, as he could not abandon his home state, despite not wanting to fight his fellow countrymen.

This was the starting point of making the Civil War extremely painful and personal for the country. Now, not only were countrymen fighting each other, but also the generals who led them were personally attached to each other. Nearly all the major generals of the war had been young officers in the Mexican-American War and attended military school together. They regarded each other as brothers and the best of friends. Now they were being asked by their leaders to stand out on the battlefield and kill one another.

May 13thsaw the official declaration of neutrality from England regarding the American Civil War. France followed very shortly afterwards.

Palmerston was the Prime Minister of Britain at the time of this occurrence.

Lord Lyons was once quoted of saying that "Americans are only either wild or dull." Whether this is true is speculation and mostly unknown, but he did seem to be quite a cynic based on his writings.

The War of 1812 was an extremely bitter war. On the American side, they felt as if Europe was still treating them like disobedient children. It was America's chance to prove to Europe (mainly Britain and France) that they were no longer going to put up with being bullied (the war started mainly on account of Britain and France seizing American ships at sea and forcing the crews to work in the French or British Navies. This is called Impressment).

Afterwards, when England decided it wasn't worth the cost of fighting both America and France at the same time (the Napoleonic wars were occurring then) they eventually gave up the war. The peace treaty was signed in Ghent, Belgium. It was called the second war of independence and shot American morale through the roof (we'd just beaten the most powerful empire in the world, not once, but twice…sorta…).

Later on, America and Britain squabbled a few times regarding the Canadian border(owned by Britain at the time). The Oregon dispute became the propaganda campaign of the 11thpresident, James Polk as well and won him the presidency. Basically, America wanted all the Oregon territory and so did Britain. Eventually, they decided to split it in half at the 49thparallel (the modern day border).

Then came the Aroostook War, which wasn't a war at all. It was a nonviolent dispute thatalmostturned into a war. Maine was sick and tired of Canadian lumberjacks cutting down US forests and called up their militia to camp the border. They are the only state to declare a war against another country. It was settled pretty quickly, with Maine gaining most of the disputed forestland anyway. Yay for Maine!

The Monroe Doctrine was an interesting piece. It's main premise states that America will not stand for European intervention in the Western Hemisphere, and vise versa, the US will stay out of European affairs.

At the time, the US was a very small dog with a very large bark. The army was in shambles and the navy might as well have not existed it was so sparse. The UK stepped in and declared they would back the Monroe Doctrine, mainly on account of their Pax Britannica policy (Basically, the sea belongs to England or it's neutral…no ifs, ands or buts. No fighting allowed) being mainly the same thing, only land based.

Earlier, the UK had approached America with a similar resolution, that they would jointly enforce no European powers in North America. The US snubbed them and drafted their own document: the Monroe Doctrine. It was pretty bitchy (which was the point on the American side), and caused a lot of uproar in the UK at the time.

The reference to France being out of hand: The Napoleonic wars had been pretty rough on Europe in general. Especially on Britain, the Germanic states (mostly Austria and Prussia) and Russia.

The War of the Roses was England's major civil war(s), which occurred in 1455 and lasted some 30 odd years. It was between the two houses of York and Lancaster, and they both wanted the English throne. It's called the War of the Roses because each family's insignia was a red and white rose respectively. This is where England gets its national flower...It's America's, too. Cute, huh?