Chapter: 3- The Sea at last

It was barely dawn and he was shaken from his dream. Hovered over him was Francis, his face lacking any imperfection. He only had a moment to look before he was picked by the collar and practically thrown off the bed. He gave a scared look up at the older nation who just ignored it. Stepping around the side, he lowered himself to pick the boy up.

"Get ready, mon petit, we're leaving very soon." He was left only with the chill of the cold tone before he was dropped reluctantly and left alone in the room. A sniffled cry escaped the young one as he nodded, picking himself up from the ground. He winced in pain that shot up his spine. Alfred slowly walked towards the closet, picking up what little he had of possession. Sure, France had been nice enough to let him gather some clothing from his home that night, even the toy soldiers England made for him. England. His mind only dangled on the hope of the British nation to not be too terribly lonely without him.

He was distraught, broken inside and barely mended from his actions of the previous night spent with someone not of his liking. Memories; all too fresh as he brought himself up from slumber, wincing in pain as he gathered himself up and headed straight to the bathroom to clean himself from last night's ordeals. His nakedness didn't even bother him as he glanced at himself in the mirror. He grimaced at the appearance, hair dishelmed, body covered in forming darkish red imprints that clearly looked like he was owned. Turning away from himself, he stepped into the bath.

It helped him soak out the nasty fillings in his body at least as he opened the bathroom with a towel hanging from his hips. He got the closet and put on his attire for the day, not wanting to be overly fashioned. A loose collared shirt clung to his body as well as fine trousers. His heeled shoes clicked as he stepped down the hallway to his study. His eyes stared a bit too long as he passed by a now empty room. He then wondered: why wasn't he panicking as he was yesterday, why was the empty feeling bubbling in his gut just ceasing? The thoughts formed and he just slumped himself into his chair. He didn't know nor did he care. He was broken.

"Come on Amerique, we need to hurry." The voice called through the door snapping the child from his thoughts. Alfred let out a soft noise of acknowledgment; glancing the room once more before leaving it finally. Opening the door, he was met by a burly man, the scent of the ocean wafted from him. It only made the uneasy feeling grow in the pit of his stomach. He let out a surprised yelp, tugged by the wrist away from his safe domain. Alfred nearly dropped his half empty pack, struggling to keep up with the tall male.

"Hurry up brat." The man encouraged, half dragging him away. He nodded, hesitant to try and catch up, but deflated in energy as he reached the main hall. Alfred's own eyes met Francis' blue ones that looked at the man holding him, nodding him off and replacing his hold on his wrist. "No time to waste now." He heard France grumble as they met the outside dawn light. It was almost a faint shimmer of light now boosting from its nightly sleep.

Along the horizon was a docked ship, a vessel he hadn't seen before. Though he wasn't unfamiliar with ships, having been trips between England and his own country many of times, Alfred already grew apathetic towards the vessel. That's what was taking him away from England.

Nothing would be the same.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days.

He could barely keep track of his journey on the boat. Everyday, he awoke from a jostling push off his cot. He'd memorized the smell of rum by the second day. Tea was served 6: sharp, down into Francis' room where we was forced to stay in for another hour or so with other 'duties'.

Everyday day was the same.

He'd been wandering on the deck. The air was welcoming him, only there to make him shiver and trust in it. Turning his head, he only saw an unsettled ocean, rocking the ship slowly. Then he realized the beauty he could not grasp of the water. It was untamed, more powerful. Free.

Later that day, he'd returned to his quarters, head down into a book. "Mon ami, would you join me?" Alfred raised his head from a book of England's he'd taken. A confused look came onto his face. "To where-"

Francis gave him a look and waved him over. The young teen just rose from his spot and followed the other. Out of the under they came to meet the sun's light as well as something else. He'd been met with the sight of a dock. W-we're finally in France? He thought, panic coursing through him. He timidly stood in his place, feeling a weight on his shoulder.

"Welcome home Alfred."

A/N:

Holy shit.

I'm sorry if you were waiting for this chapter and just got an ass load of disappointment ; A ;
I've been busy with school and just – ah excuses xD

Well expect the next one in a few days or at least a week [:

Suggestions for reforms of America will be taken!

Please R&R? :D

side note: I fixed the thing in chapter 1 about the TV xD