A/N - Finished - 12-6-10, Mon (9PM)

~~~(CH7_Hit Me With It One More Time)~~~

When Arthur's mind settled, he began to analyze the day's recent events: Woke up in taxi by blushing taxi-girl. Got out. Met Alfred. Had a lovely picnic. Forgot all about…

He was home. Probably. Events passed by so quickly, he couldn't help feeling dazed. Walked through corridor. Alfred!

Arthur turned to see him, and Alfred must've been surprised too to have that look on his face. He smiled so endearingly at his ex-colony and he did the same. Oh, could he help himself, really? Couldn't he let his façade of hating the man fall for just this moment?

Maybe…

"Hey, Alfred." He tried to say something at the same time. Arthur made a hand gesture to urge him to continue, but Alfred only copied. No, no, no. He said what he wanted to say. Now it was Alfred's turn. Conversational Skills 101, lad.

"Go on, Alfred." Words and mouth in perfect sync. Arthur looked down at his gloved hands. Since when had he worn them? Slowly, he looked back up. A glare of light. Arthur and Alfred lifted a trembling hand to touch his eyes. Glasses?

Bomber jacket, T-shirt, jeans.

This was a mirror. Arthur wasn't Arthur, Arthur was Alfred. And this wasn't Arthur's house, this was his. And this wasn't a pleasant dream, this was…

RUN.

He knew he was running through doors and doors of empty halls and hopes for salvation like a maze in a video game, but hell if he cared.

RUN!

Arthur never looked back. Didn't want to see the mirror fiend's smirking face as it gained on him. Because he knew it was… It was right behind him. He could feel its cold fingers grazing the back of his neck, scratching at the air and dust as he scrambled. It was-

CLACKLE

The door!

CLACKLE CLACKLE

It wouldn't open!

A large oval-shaped light shone beside Arthur's cheek. The mirror's light reflection. Judging by the size, it was right over his shoulder.

No. He wouldn't look at it. He wouldn't look at himself, at Alfred, again. Not with a face contorted with terror and then the glowing of life disappearing in his eyes.

A freezing hand fingered his shoulder and all his senses heightened.

The being slowly turned him around…

…Pure darkness until his sight cleared up. Smell returned and there was a scent of burning gas. He blinked several times until he was sure he had gripped consciousness.

And…he was greeted with a blushing girl, cleavage taunting.

Not bad, old man. Not bad.

"Um, Herr?" The young woman shook his shoulder again from the driver's seat. "Um, we're here."

"Hm? Where?"

"The Swiss National Park, sir, just like you wanted." She seemed a bit annoyed at having driven so long for this stranger only for him to forget so easily.

England looked away embarrassed. "Oh yes. Thank you."

He looked outside of the car window. It was quite dark. How long had he been out for? He asked the taxi-girl.

"You went out like a light a couple hours ago. You seemed peaceful, so I didn't stir you." Ah, there's the blush again.

"Mm. Thanks. How much?" England readied his wallet as she mumbled the price. Must have been something hefty for the girl to be so awkward about it, but England wouldn't know; this was Switzerland's money he was handing her.

He stepped out of the taxi.

"Have a safe night."

"You too, ma'am."

"Au revoir."

She left him at the park though it was a bit late for a picnic. Oh well, that was America's fault anyway for making it so damn far away from the hotel. I mean, six hours? Good grief…

England glanced around.

"Damn." America never mentioned where exactly in the park to meet him though, even if he did let England have that important detail, it wasn't like he could find it by name. Had he planned for something so late? He enjoyed being in the sun, that golden boy, but he'd invented places like Las Vegas so he wouldn't put it past him.

England embarrassingly asked around. Whatever compelled the wanderers of Switzerland's park to know French over German-Romanian-whatever was beyond him. His lack of an accent probably reflected poorly on his nature…

It wasn't until much later, many aggravating minutes later, that England finally heard the first sign of a real idiot.

"Hahaha! I win a free internet!"

Americaaaa

He was on the other side of the bush, and with ninja skills honed beside Japan, England straggled through.

"Americaaaa…"

"Haaaah?" drawled out America, mimicking England, spotting the elder country across the way. "Iggy! Why so serious~ And late!"

"Because of you, you dolt!" England began to stomp towards America, definitely not about to hold back. "Why didn't you tell me where it was!-?"

"I told you, old man!"

"Then why didn't you tell me how to get here!-?"

"Cuz things are more fun that way!"

This guy…

"Why do you have to be so INFURIATING?" the Brit screamed.

"Because you're so easy to irritate slash infuriate.~"

England stopped stomping. Alright. That was it. He wanted nothing to do with this personification. This…

"Y-You know what…"

"Whaaaaaat?" America cooed, casually walking up to England, closing the distance he was too pissed to close himself.

"I-I can't believe I allowed myself to be sucked into your idiotic games! Just, just…go die in a hole!"

"Oh, come on, Iggy-"

"Oh, COME OFF, A-me-ri-ca! How many times have I told you NOT to call me that! Bloody-!"

America seemed to finally get it, what with the widening of realization in his eyes. England could smirk at the man if it was only that. But it wasn't.

Bloody…

Bloody…

Bloody…Goddamn hell.

From the side of that American's head, wrapping around his face and clouding his senses was a deep red substance that even countries shouldn't see so much of in a single day.

Blood. It had to be.

And that impossibly strong superpower crumpled to the ground as if he didn't have any bones in his body.

Texas had escaped serious injury, though Nantucket looked rather sad, and-

He shouldn't even think such idle thoughts!

But he was. Anything to distract him.

Anything to distract him from an Alfred covered in blood and the light fading in his eyes.

Arthur knelt and closed the distance between them at last. He swept him into his arms and whispered a prayer loud enough only for them two. The Dark Arts wouldn't save him here. He needed some White Magic. He needed a miracle.

The ambulance came to pick him up rather quickly and Arthur stayed by his side. They questioned him like security would at an airport station, and he recited a fake scenario without batting an eye.

Arthur held the American's hand tight as Alfred's head rocked side to side on the gurney.

No, no, no, Iggy! It's just the park! We'll have fun!

~()~

A/N - XD That's right guys. I FINISHED it. (Although I've no idea when I started it...) So if you guys arse me enough with reviews, I'll totally update. XP This one, I'm kinda sorta happy how the chappy turned out. It has mixed feelings. *tilts head* Like...I overused something. *meows* Or that it was too obvious or too hard to tell what was going on kinda thing... *sigh* Anyway, reviews of any sort are appreciated. Laterz.

~TMRomance