Alright, next chapter is up! ^^ This one is a lot longer than the others so I hope you'll enjoy this one. Now, some of you might be a bit confused by Northern Ireland and I apologize, I really should have explained why he exists as an individual character for me. I have really just three reasons:

1. If I remember correctly, in 1913 there was this big fight between the Catholics and Protestants up in the north of Ireland. Before the outbreak, each side had been importing guns. When it came to the Catholics the British police immediately confiscated the weapons when they would discover them. With the Protestants however the British turned a blind eye to their activities. So when both sides fought naturally the Protestants had a surplus of weapons and won. On that fight an author (whose name I don't remember) wrote, "And thus the North was formed." For me, 1913 is the year Northern Ireland was born. England found him and took him in, not knowing what he was supposed to represent. When Ireland first met Northern Ireland he immediately believed that England was going to try and replace him with Northern Ireland and so fiercely rejected his little brother, calling him a mistake.

2. In 1922 when Ireland was finally going to gain independence from the UK, England had one condition: Ireland could be free if he gave the north of his island to the UK. Not only that, but if that condition was refused, England's government threatened to send their army to Ireland and start a full-out war on the people. The four people who were sent by the Irish people to sign the agreement for their country's liberation saw themselves forced to agree, though none were happy about it. As a result of having to leave the north of Ireland behind, a civil war started in Ireland. Ireland's younger brother became the representation of Northern Ireland and because his people were majorly Protestants at that time, I would think he was actually happy staying with England as he was more attached to him than to Ireland who constantly rejected him. I'd think that Ireland would resent Northern Ireland as he, in a way, caused the civil war in Ireland and was the foothold England needed to keep a part of what Ireland saw as HIS land.

3. Finally, the mentality of the people. Oddly enough, when a person says they come from Northern Ireland then the other Irish people start to set that person apart from them. The mentality of some of the Irish people is "Oh, we want you guys to come back since you're Irish but all the same, you're Northern Irish." I got that idea from an Irish woman who went to an interview in Brussels. She comes from Northern Ireland and the moment she mentioned that at the interview, one of the interviewer who was Irish started treating her as if she came from Russia or something, and kept repeating the words "North Irish" and "Northern Ireland" to her.

Yeah, sorry for that, I know it was a lengthy explanation. The historical references come from my Irish father who studied Irish history from A-Z and knows a lot about it. I would want to confirm all that with him except he has this bad habit to go into hour-long lectures about "evil England" and "poor Ireland" and frankly I don't feel up to that. He also doesn't think that Northern Ireland should exist (yeah, he's partly aware of my Hetalia craze) as it is merely a "political idea" but... well, there's another reason at the end of the chapter why I think Northern Ireland should be an individual character.

Anyway, enjoy this chapter! ^^

Disclaimer: Hetalia and the characters don't belong to me.

Chapter 4

"Alright, since it's nearly lunch time and I'm the hero, I declare this meeting adjourned and will restart again around 1:00 pm. See you then!"

Most of the countries stood up to go eat their lunch while the rest stayed seated and chatted among each other. They had accomplished almost nothing during the meeting but everyone was used to that kind of progress, they did argue and fight with each other most of the time. Although the fights today had been significantly less loud since a certain grouchy Englishman was not present. Admittedly it was a nice change for many of the countries, a change most knew wouldn't last.

Ireland and Wales remained seated, just taking their time to relax. Wales complained slightly, "I really can't see how you get things done during those meetings. They're absolutely chaotic! And how many times did I have to explain that my country is not full of whales?"

"If you come often to those meetings you eventually get used to it. There are times where I get mistaken with other countries as well. A couple of times it was with Iceland just because of that one letter difference and once we had a meeting about false passports and they spent 10 minutes debating whether IR was for Ireland or Iran." Ireland scribbled on his paper with a bored expression.

"Do you think England is alright?" Ireland asked after a while, trying not to appear worried. Ireland would not admit that he was a bit concerned about England.

"Surely." Wales answered nonchalantly, leaning his head on one hand. "Nations don't have fatal illnesses and England has always recovered quickly."

"It's just odd, you mentioned earlier that he was falling sick quite often." Ireland mused but then shrugged, "Maybe it's just his cooking."

Wales smiled, "When was the last time you tasted his scones?"

Ireland blinked and hastily replied, "Personally I don't want to remember."

Both laughed loudly but neither were completely reassured.

After having spent most of the morning sitting beside England's bed, Scotland stood up and walked out of the room. Scotland felt a bit restless and he wondered where the other nation was. He found Northern Ireland in the living room where he was reading a book.

"North, I'm going to go out to stretch my legs a bit, would you go check on England now and again to make sure he's okay?" Scotland asked, wondering if Northern Ireland was in a better mood now.

Northern Ireland looked up from his book, his expression neutral while he nodded. "Did anything change?"

Scotland shook his head, "The fever went up and down several times but other than that nothing has changed. I'm surprised that England still hasn't woken up yet."

"Maybe he will wake up later..." Northern Ireland proposed hopefully. He stood up and walked towards England's room while Scotland went outside.

As Northern Ireland sat beside the bed of England and watched England quietly. He felt England's forehead and noticed that the fever was dropping again. Northern Ireland was starting to feel worried. If England had the flu, why hadn't he woken up? Did flues cause you to pass out?

His hand slid down to England's hand and gripped it tightly. Northern Ireland couldn't understand why he was so worried but until now, every time England had been sick he had remained conscious and was always able to tell Northern Ireland that he would be alright. This was the first time that Northern Ireland saw him in this state. He would be less worried if he knew that England was just asleep and not sick.

Northern Ireland looked down in surprise when he felt England's hand squeeze his. Was England conscious? Northern Ireland leaned closer and asked hurriedly, "England, are you awake? If you can hear me, then wake up!"

England frowned, his brow furrowing but his eyes remained tightly shut. Northern Ireland held his breath, wondering if England was going to wake up. England started shaking his head, his expression pained, as if he was having a nightmare.

"Wake up England, please!" Northern Ireland hated himself for begging but he really wanted England to finally open his eyes and tell him he was alright. Like he would always do. He started when England's eyes slowly opened. But seeing England's eyes did Northern Ireland no good.

They appeared to be dull and lifeless but they were filled with pain. England's lips started moving but at first Northern Ireland could barely hear what he was frantically whispering. "...make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop..." England's whispers started to sound like a mantra and his grip on Northern Ireland's hand tightened.

"Stop what England?" Northern Ireland asked uneasily, now wishing that Scotland was here. He would know what to do.

"The pain... please... I can't take it... stop it... pain..." England gritted his teeth and his body began to tremble.

"Where is the pain? Where is it?" Northern Ireland held England's hand more firmly, hoping to somehow comfort the other country.

"Whole body... b-burning... c-can't t-take it... stop it... p-please... s-stop..." England breathed harshly, his whole body trembling violently and back arching.

Suddenly his eyes widened and he shot into a sitting position, clutching his head. "MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP!" England screamed, fiercely shaking his head and gritting his teeth.

Northern Ireland started to panic. "Hold it out England, I will get Scotland!" He started to leave but was stopped by England who grabbed his wrist.

"Please stop the pain!" England cried and Northern Ireland was forced to see England's eyes. They were ablaze with frenzy, pure pain radiating from them. England's grip was starting to crush Northern Ireland's wrist and a strangled cry escaped England's mouth as another wave of pain ran through his body.

Northern Ireland pushed as gently as possible England into the bed. "Please hold it out England, I'll get help. Just stay awake." Northern Ireland pleaded desperately, but as he held England the older country started thrashing around, as if physical contact was causing him more pain.

Northern Ireland quickly let go of England and was about to get Scotland when England let out a loud cry which quickly faded away. At first frozen to his spot, he quickly turned around and rushed back to England.

The thrashing had stopped and the breathing had calmed down. England still wore a pained expression but his eyes were closed again.

"England?" Northern Ireland ventured fearfully but got no reaction. He felt England's forehead and noted that the fever was going up again. It seemed that England had passed out again.

Northern Ireland took his seat beside the bed again and observed England. To speak plainly, Northern Ireland was very distressed. He now knew that England was very sick, even sicker than he had ever been. England was in great pain and Northern Ireland could do nothing else but watch.

He hated it. He hated feeling so helpless, so useless. He didn't know why England was sick, he didn't know how to relieve England's pain and he didn't even know what kind of illness England had. He felt utterly useless.

Northern Ireland buried his face into his hands and refused to look up for a while. After a few minutes Scotland came back into the room, fully oblivious to what had happened previously.

"So, any change?" Scotland asked in a bored tone, not really noticing Northern Ireland's distress.

"England woke up." Northern Ireland replied coldly, not looking up.

"Oh, did he?" Scotland looked at England and wondered, "Did he say anything?"

"You shouldn't have left."

"Huh?" Scotland looked at the younger nation uncomprehendly.

He finally looked up and glared angrily at Scotland. How could the idiot have left him to deal with England alone?

"You shouldn't have left." He repeated in a trembling voice. "Y-you have no idea... n-no idea at all w-what is going on? Y-you shouldn't have left, you would have known... I didn't. I couldn't do anything. You idiot, pretending everything is going to be f-f-fine..."

Northern Ireland had not noticed his own tears at first but as it got harder for him to express his anger he trailed off. He scowled as he wiped the tears away and hastily got to his feet. Northern Ireland was out of the room before Scotland had a chance to say something.

Turning his attention back to England, Scotland sighed heavily. Not only was he disturbed by what Northern Ireland had said but also his actions. Northern Ireland was in tears, something that hadn't happened since the Belfast Blitz and that alone confirmed Scotland's worries about England's sickness.

But what had happened? No, the more pressing question was: what were they going to do now?

It was toward late evening when Ireland and Wales finally returned from the meeting. Of course after the lunch break they had hardly accomplished anything but then again no one was expecting a miracle.

Upon their arrival they were greeted by Scotland and they immediately asked how England was doing.

"Well he did wake up once today but otherwise it's been just ups and downs with his fever." Scotland stated, wondering if he should tell them about Northern Ireland's reaction. He was known to exaggerate things sometimes which was why Scotland was hesitant. But Northern Ireland had cried... was he for once not exaggerating?

"Sasana woke up? Did he say something?" Ireland asked curiously.

Scotland shrugged, "I don't know, I wasn't there when he woke up. Northern Ireland was there but he won't really tell me what England said."

"Typical." Ireland grumbled under his breath. Scotland and Wales both gazed at Ireland with raised eyebrows. "What?" Ireland demanded, bothered with the way they looked at him.

Wales was the first to break eye contact. He stated, "So by the looks of it, England won't be able to go to the other meeting tomorrow. I guess then-"

"-I'll replace him tomorrow." Scotland quickly cut Wales off and grinned triumphantly. Wales scowled slightly. "Come on Wales, you can't keep me out of these meetings forever. Besides, I'm older than you." Scotland declared, fully pleased with himself that he managed to cut Wales off.

"Doesn't change a thing." Wales muttered stubbornly, crossing his arms. But he finally relented, "Well it's not as if you can do much damage in those meetings anyway."

"Yes!" Scotland shouted, pumping his fist in the air. He then hugged Wales and gave him a noogie to which Wales protested loudly.

Ireland shook his head in amusement and feeling thirsty, left the scene to go to the kitchen. Turning around the corner he accidently bumped into Northern Ireland who had been sulking there.

Not meeting his younger brother's gaze, he sidestepped Northern Ireland and continued down the hall. Northern Ireland glared after him and stood up to follow him. He had heard that Scotland was going to the meeting and it... angered him.

Ireland finally noticed that he was being followed and he swiftly turned around, confronting Northern Ireland. Northern Ireland stopped and glared defiantly at his older brother.

"What do you want?" Ireland asked coolly, not in the mood to start a fight with Northern Ireland.

"I want to go to the world meeting." Northern Ireland demanded boldly, awaiting Ireland's reaction.

Fighting back a sneer, Ireland replied, "Alba is going already, you don't need to go."

"But I want to go." Northern Ireland shot back.

"Well, too bad."

Northern Ireland took a deep breath. This was going to be more difficult than he thought it would. He quickly blurted out jumbled words that hardly made sense but Ireland was able to catch part of the sentence which sounded smething like "meeting", "with Scotland" and "not with you".

Ireland blinked in confusion and asked, "Can you repeat that? I didn't get one word."

Northern Ireland shuffled his feet uncomfortably and repeated, "I want to go in your place tomorrow."

Ireland gaped at Northern Ireland before he finally choked out, "Are you barking mad?"

Northern Ireland refused to look away, staring defiantly at Ireland.

"Why do you want to do that, Tuaisceart Éireann?" Ireland asked, his voice dangerously low. Northern Ireland was not fazed by the tone.

"I want to go to the meeting with Scotland, not with you." Northern Ireland stated simply, his gaze betraying no feelings.

For a brief moment hurt flickered across Ireland's face. Though he wouldn't admit it, Northern Ireland's words stung Ireland. He quickly shook the feeling off and scowled.

"And what makes you think I will actually allow you to represent my people at the meeting?" Ireland questioned testily, looking at Northern Ireland with slight incredulity. How could Northern Ireland even think about that?

The younger nation shrugged uneasily, "We're part of the same land mass?"

"But we are not the same country! I'm the Poblacht na hÉireann and you're Northern Ireland, part of the United Kingdom. We have two different rialtais! An bhfuil tú as do meabhair?" Ireland demanded angrily.

Northern Ireland bristled slightly, annoyed that Ireland was slipping into his native tongue. Not that he couldn't understood anything at all, he had a weak grasp of the language but he didn't want Ireland to notice that.

"According to your ex-boss, De Valera, my people are your people. We are not that different." Northern Ireland reasoned, trying his best to calm himself down.

"Don't you dare use my ex-boss against me!" Ireland warned. He added, "Anyhow, why do you want to go so badly to this meeting? It's not like we accomplish anything."

"I don't want to stay here." Northern Ireland replied bluntly.

"Then why don't you go home."

"That would be running away."

"...and going to the meeting is not?" Ireland crossed his arms, looking sceptical.

"Look, can't you just understand that I don't want to be here and I'd prefer going to that bloody meeting?" Northern Ireland snapped.

Ireland shook his head, "No, because you haven't told me why you don't want to be here."

Northern Ireland groaned, "Isn't it obvious? I can't stand seeing England like this!"

"Like what?"

Northern Ireland sighed, suddenly looking sad. "I can't see England sick like that. Until now, every time he was sick, he was always conscious enough to tell me that he would be fine. But this time he only woke up once and... it was horrible." The younger nation paused, looking distressed. Ireland unfolded his arms and looked at his younger brother curiously.

With a shaking voice Northern Ireland continued, "England was practically begging for the pain to stop and when I asked where the pain was he told me... that it was everywhere. And the way he looked at me... and I couldn't do anything to help him. I felt so helpless..."

He trailed off and he saw Ireland looking at him in utter surprise. Northern Ireland felt his cheek with his hand and mentally cursed himself. Why was he crying again? And in front of Ireland no less!

Northern Ireland quickly wiped his tears away and started to walk away from Ireland, deeply mortified. Crying in front of Scotland was bad enough but with Ireland... hell that was extremely embarrassing. He would never live it down.

Ireland caught hold of Northern Ireland's shoulder. Northern Ireland froze but did not turn around, not wanting Ireland to see his tear-stained face. He was startled by what Ireland said next.

"Look... deartháir, if it's such a big deal to you then I... I guess I can let you go in my place tomorrow." Ireland's tone had softened, losing its characteristic hostility that Northern Ireland always heard when talking to Ireland.

Northern Ireland felt his cheeks tinge pink a bit. Ireland had called him brother in Irish, something that almost never happened. He was usually just Tuaisceart Éireann or Northern Ireland to his brother. He felt kind of happy... not to have the usual insults thrown at him or to be just completely ignored. It felt nice.

"I err... t-thanks Ireland. Thank you." Northern Ireland stammered and rushed off, definitely not wanting Ireland to see the slight blush on his face. There was absolutely no chance Northern Ireland would admit to Ireland any of that. It would make him appear weak and Northern Ireland couldn't stand to be weak. As one of the youngest country of this crazy bunch of brothers, Northern Ireland felt that he had to prove himself to them.

Ireland stared after him, wondering what he had said to cause the younger nation to suddenly run off like that. Sometimes he just couldn't understand Northern Ireland. Ireland was a bit worried over what Northern Ireland had said. Was England that sick?

It made Northern Ireland distressed enough to cry. That alone was convincing enough for Ireland. But he was at loss of what he should do. All nations now and again fell sick but after some rest they always recovered. That was considered normal.

But Ireland could not recall what a nation did if they were very sick. Did they call a doctor? Would a doctor know what to do? A nation's body wasn't entirely like a human body, hence why nations avoided doctors. No nation knew exactly what the differences in their bodies were but there was always a danger that doctor would see it and become suspicious.

So a doctor was out of question. But what else was left? All that could be done then is let England rest and hopefully he would recover from whatever he was suffering from. He hoped that this was going to be the case.

Ireland found himself walking into England's room where he found Scotland and Wales sitting next to the bed, talking in low voices. They looked up when he came in and he could feel that they were also worried about England.

"Scotland, it looks like Northern Ireland will be accompanying you tomorrow to the meeting instead of me." Ireland informed tiredly as he sat beside them.

Scotland blinked in surprise before he replied, "Uh, okay then." After a pause he asked, "Why?"

Ireland shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, "He asked me if he could and he kind of managed to convince me. He seems very upset about all this."

"Aye, I feel a bit bad for the lad. He's so attached to England..." Scotland started saying but then noticed Ireland stiffening. He glanced at Ireland and sure enough, Ireland was looking away from him and glaring at the wall.

"Ach, come on Ireland, let it go already." Scotland complained, rolling his eyes at his elder brother.

"Jealousy never did anyone good." Wales added teasingly, a knowing smile appearing on his face.

"M'not jealous!" Ireland defended stubbornly, crossing his arms and pouting.

"Ireland is jealous!" both brothers chanted happily while Ireland hissed at them to shut up.

When Northern Ireland passed the room he came upon an odd scene. Apparently Ireland had tried to pounce the two other nations to shut them up but somehow ended up having both nations pining him to the floor. Both nations where holding back their laughter as Ireland struggled to free himself, cursing quietly under his breath.

"What are you three doing?" Northern Ireland asked curiously, surprised at the display of childishness.

"Eh, none of your business little squirt." Scotland winked at Northern Ireland while he ruffled Ireland's hair.

"Will you two buffoons get off of me now?" Ireland demanded, trying and failing at getting them off him.

Both nations got off Ireland laughing heartily while Northern Ireland still stood at the doorway, glancing at his three elder brothers in faint amusement but still rather bewildered. Ireland shook his head, a bit annoyed that he had been pinned so easily.

"Don't try to understand Northern Ireland, you're not old enough." Wales chuckled, amused by Northern Ireland's reaction.

As Northern Ireland stood there, still trying to figure out what was wrong with his elder brothers who were now laughing because of Northern Ireland's perplexed expression, no one noticed through the racket they made that England slightly opened his eyes to look at them.

England frowned slightly. Try as he might, he was unable to see his brothers clearly. The lines were fuzzy and distorted. Before anyone could notice, England shut his eyes again, not having enough strength left to remain conscious for long. For now his brothers remained completely oblivious to England's deteriorating condition.

Some explanations

Ireland's issues: The problem with the names of Ireland and Iceland has happened a couple of times already. The thing with the passports is actually a personal experience of mine. My family went to Turkey and in the airport the guards at the border really spent a long time on our passports, calling over colleagues constantly until one had the bright idea of using their computer. Not my best experience.

Belfast Blitz: In WWII, Belfast was the second city of the UK that was the most destroyed (just after London). A lot of the blame is put on the government of Northern Ireland as they did almost nothing: hardly any shelters were built, at least not enough for the dense population of Northern Ireland, no searchlights were set up, there were no night-fighters and the children weren't evacuated. So, the people were really sitting ducks when German planes bombed them and weren't able to fight the Germans effectively. The German bombs destroyed many homes and a lot of lives were lost. The city's waterworks were attacked and destroyed so that when the incendiaries were dropped, the whole of Belfast would be aflame and the firefighters wouldn't be able to fight the fire as there wasn't enough water left. The government of Northern Ireland sent a message out to Ireland for assistance, to which the Irish quickly responded by sending them firefighters. When Belfast was bombed again the Irish firefighters crossed the border without waiting for an invitation to help out again with the fires. (THIS is another reason why I think of Northern Ireland as an individual character. Doesn't anyone see the potential brotherly fluff of this historical period?)

"My people are your people" speech: De Valera, Ireland's boss at that time did actually react to the Belfast Blitz with a "they are our people" speech. And the funniest thing of this is that after that, Joseph Goebbels ordered the German officers not to mention the Belfast Blitz ever again. According to Hitler, there was a danger that De Valera's negative reaction might cause the Irish American politicians in America to encourage the Americans to join the war against Germany.

Translations:

Poblacht na hÉireann = Republic of Ireland

rialtais = government

An bhfuil tú as do meabhair? = Are you out of your mind?