This is the last chapter in this story - I've kept it short so it doesn't over stay its welcome. I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 4. The Only One
The roads of 1914 England weren't known for being brightly lit (or particularly useful), but America was definitely liking driving on the paving. So much so that he resolved to start paving his own roads when he got home. And why the hell England live in the Lake District instead of London? And why was it called 'the Lake District'?
"Because it is full of lakes." France pointed out flatly, clutching his seat with white knuckles (as seat-belts had yet to be invented) "Are you sure you know 'ow to drive, Alfred?"
"Of course. Why?"
"EYES ON THE ROAD!"
The drive from London to the Lake District took a good few hours. It felt far longer for both parties, partly because Americas 'driving' was reckless at best (and he insisted on driving on the wrong side of the road, causing quite a few near misses), and partly because of the strained relations between him and 'Papa France.' They sat in silence for most of the drive, allowing them to cool their heads. France, much calmer than when he had first heard Russias tale, was the first to break the silence.
"Alfred, per'aps you should pull over." He suggested.
"Why's that? Gotta take a leak?" America asked, squinting in the darkness of the unlit country roads.
"Non, non, I 'ave just been thinking." He confessed.
"Thinking what?"
"Why are we doing this?"
"Why? To break Russias evil curse, of course!"
"But are we, though?"
America looked at him, seeing the deep and thoughtful look on his face, and stopped the car in the middle of the road.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I 'ate Russia." France admitted "Arthur and I 'ave not been so close since 'e showed up. But when I do see 'im, 'e looks… 'appier. And what if Russia was telling the truth?"
"Russia ruined my life!" was all America cared about "He took everything in my life that was good! I always blamed you for all the bad things that happened, but it was his fault!"
"Was it, though?" France smiled sadly at America "I 'ave thought about it, where I went wrong raising you. I think that I was not strong enough… Mon Angleterre… Arthur has always lived in 'ardship, ever since he was small, and is 'as made 'im strong. The 'ardships you faced when you were small, mon Angleterre would 'ave known 'ow to deal with them far better than I."
America gaped at him, not believing what he was hearing.
"I am sorry, Alfred, that I was not a good big brother to you."
"I… I don't-"
"Please, let me finish." France insisted "It is never too late, as long as we are alive, to fix the mistakes we 'ave made. You, me, Canada, there is still time for us, if we work 'ard, but Arthur…" he trailed off with a sigh "Did God change the world for Russia, or for England?"
"For England?"
"Mon petite frere, 'e is proud and stubborn but when 'e takes you to 'is heart, you will be there for all time. To 'urt 'is 'eart will do him far more damage than any German army could inflict. I know." He pulled at the shirt over his heart uncomfortably "I 'ave 'urt 'him, and 'e 'as 'urt me, for centuries we 'ave brothers, sworn enemies and close friends. 'E is as my shadow, even now… If 'e was so un'appy that God changed all the world for 'im, I cannot bare to change it back."
"That's the problem!" America insisted "He changed the whole world! It wasn't just Russia and England that were affected, think of the changes there must have been to history! Everything that never happened, that happened differently, wars that could have been avoided, or wars that have started. What if everything is different?!"
"Then everything will be different."
America had no answer. How could France just accept the world as it was?
"But what if the other today is better than this today?" was all he could say.
"And what if it is worse?"
America stared at the (much) older nation incredulously. Silently, he restarted the car and continued to Englands place.
The village was small, and small villages talk. Wary of alerting the local constable, the two left the car in the village square and walked the rest of the way to Arthurs cottage.
"These houses are tiny!" America marveled.
"These 'ouses are older than you are." France pointed out quietly.
"You're kidding!"
Was it still considered 'breaking in' when you had a key? America didn't really understand why France had a key to England house, but like everything to do with his and Englands relationship, he assumed it was complicated. France knew his way around well enough to find the basement without turning on the lights, instead relying on the illumination of his lighter. America tripped and stumbled over seemingly everything that lay in the hall.
"Mon deiu, you would take a terrible burglar."
"Why are British houses so full of shit?!"
"Be quiet!"
They made their way, as quietly as possible, to the basement room where England kept his magic paraphernalia. With no windows to give away their presence, they flicked on the overhead light.
"Jesus!" America cried as he saw the shelves piled high with ancient books, dusty vials of mysterious liquids and heavy iron cauldrons, all covered in centuries old wax and ominous dark smears "I feel like I'm getting cursed just standing here!"
"Don't you 'old the beliefs of the American Indians?" France queried.
"Yeah, and they believe in curses too!"
"Hm."
Not having any other place to start, they began pulling the tomes from the bookcases, and immediately came across a problem.
"Uh…what language is that?" America asked.
"Judging by the absurd number of consonants, I guess its Welsh. Ugh, this is Gaelic! Viking runes, Nordic symbols… 'ow old are these books?!"
"Nordic?"
"Britain 'as a long and colourful 'istory of being invaded." France laughed "I doubt there is anyone in the whole country only descended from Celts."
"Hm." America flipped absently through the book he was holding "So you Europeans don't just go taking advantage of new countries then, or were you just sick of ransacking and pillaging each other?"
"…Time and a place, Alfred."
America snorted in derision and tossed the book aside, where it made a heavy thud against the floor.
"I would appreciate it if you didn't go throwing around my books!"
"Mon Dieu!"
England!
"How?!"
He stood before the door, clad in his black cape, and he looked pissed.
"I gave you that key for emergencies, Francis, not so you could break in and wreck shit! What are you doing in my house?"
"Angleterre…"
"We're here to find a way to break Russia curse!" America announced "And restore the world to the way it should be!"
"His what?" England looked dumbfounded.
"Russia has cast an evil curse on you!" He continued to declare "He changed history so that you and I never met, so that he was your little brother! This isn't the way the world should be, and I'm here to change it back!"
France said nothing. It was all technically true. Clearly America had taken nothing from their talk in the car. England, however, took it all in stride.
"Why?" he asked.
"Wh…what?" America clearly hadn't expected that.
"Why do you want to change it back? What's wrong with things the way they are now?"
"Because its not fair!" the young nation blurted "Russia took everything that should have been mine! He took all my happiness, all my security, all the love I should have had. You have no idea how much I suffered because of him!"
"Instead of him." England corrected.
"Eh?"
"You didn't suffer because of Russia." England confessed "You suffered instead of him. An unexpected side effect, but I suppose it was inevitable."
"Arthur, don't tell me…" France was aghast.
England smiled in confirmation.
"It was my spell." He told the others.
France could only look away, but America was furious.
"Why?! I don't understand! Why would you do that?! Why would you make me suffer?!"
"It wasn't my intention." Arthur reassured "I just wanted to go back…back to when you didn't look at me so coldly. Back to when you always looked so happy to see me. I wanted to start over, do things right…" he smiled "I didn't count on Russias magic getting in the way of my spell."
"Russia 'as magic?"
"It's a kind of magic, I'm sure. I don't even think he knows how he does it." England confirmed with a nod "His magic kept me from remembering I had cast the spell for a long time. When I did remember, I saw no point in changing anything."
"No point…no point?!" America was distraught "What about me?!"
England laughed through his nose.
"You're still very selfish. Its nice to know that wasn't my fault in raising you."
"But-"
"You wanted me gone." England told him matter-of-factly "It was always 'leave me alone', 'stop bothering me', 'I'm not your brother anymore!' I could only take so much. That's why I tried to make things better. But then Ivan was there instead. He wanted to be around me – even when we fought, the things he said were never as hurtful as what you would say. Even now, when we're almost caught up…hundreds of years, and he still wants to be by side." He snorted "You never loved me like that."
"But he's a psychopath!" Americas voice was desperate "You don't even know-"
"I'm not blind to how he is." England interrupted "But he's not the monster you imagine him to be."
"Mon Angleterre," France interrupted quickly "I 'ave to know. This world…is it better?"
England looked at him a moment, clearly thinking. He scratched his head and addressed the other nations.
"It's different." He said "It's not better, not worse."
"Are you 'appy, mon Frere?"
Finally, England seemed surprised. He smiled.
"Yes, I am."
France sighed.
"Bon. Very well." He moved away from America, towards the door "If that is 'ow it is."
"What are you saying?" America demanded "You're just going to leave things like this?!"
"Oui." Was the simple reply as Francis stopped next to Arthur "You should let go of that other world, Alfred. We can work on making this world what we want it to be."
"But, that world is what I want it to be!"
"But you are the only one, mon petite." France tried to make him understand "If we change the world back, you will the only one 'appy."
"Are you saying you're happy the way things are?"
"Non," France admitted "But I am not un'appy. No matter what 'appens, I can only move forward. You should learn to do the same America."
"I don't understand…"
"You will. When you grow up."
"I guess you have a choice now, America." England announced "Try to move forward in this world, or curse others to a life and misery and suffering so you can be happy."
With that, the two older nations left. America, alone and confused, sunk to his knees in the cold basement.
"But what about me?"
Thanks to his late night escapades, it was pretty late in the morning when Ivan awoke. Arthur was an early riser, so the bed was vacant, and if not for Ivans presence in it, it would have been made. His belly demanded feeding, and hearing pottering about in the kitchen, he got up. Sure enough, Arthur was there in an apron, preparing ingredients.
"About time you got up." He scolded "Were you planning on sleeping all day? Go wash up, I'm making brunch."
"Please don't. I want to live."
"You brat!"
Arthur smacked Ivan with a spatula. The much larger nation just laughed.
"Can't we go out for brunch?" he asked.
"Not today – we're going out for dinner with France."
"Why France?"
"Because sometimes its nice. Besides, he's going to be our ally against the Kaiser."
"Great. We will throw fancy food and cologne at the Germans, that will make them leave."
Arthur couldn't help but laugh, and Ivan took his chance to grab his hands and hold them playfully above his head.
"I will have dinner with France if I must, but I'm begging you, let me cook!"
"You!" Arthur huffed "You can help cook. Deal?"
"Not ideal, but I accept."
WHAT KIND OF ENDING IS THAAAAT?! But really, that is the end. I may do a sequel if the mood strikes (or if I'm asked nicely). I know not all stories have happy endings, but no matter who wins in this story, someone loses, and there's not really a hero or villain. France came off kind of wise in the end - I wonder what happened there?
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading it, because I enjoyed writing it. I have other ideas, so if you liked this nonsense, please keep your eyes peeled for me!