AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I've reached a new level of procrastination... Dear God... I needed to be writing an essay. Aha, oh well, the deed is done now.

Enjoy ;)


Scotland was awoken from a rather lovely dream involving the rain and the way it looked when dripping from his lover's hair, to the sound to whimpering at his side. He frowned into the dark, blinking a few times before waking up enough to turn his head in the direction of the noise.

England's face was screwed up, stray tears staining his cheeks, as he mouthed something helplessly into the pillow. Scotland reached over to him worriedly, touching his cheek gently, but the sleeping England jerked away slightly, "No... No, please-" His voice was cracked and almost inaudible, but that only served to worry Scotland further.

"England?" He whispered quietly.

He received only a shaky exhale and quick intake of breath which strongly resembled a sob.

He reached forward again, and once again England jerked away, but this time Scotland kept going, pulling the man into his arms, despite his weak and mumbled protests of "No, no, please. No. Don't- please."

He held him gently, resting England's head against his collar, and pressing his own face into England's hair to press a kiss to his scalp. "Shh, you're safe," he promised softly to the hair just above England's ear.

"I promise you, you're safe. I'm here, I've got you. I promise..."

He repeated this mantra for a few minutes, or maybe it was tens of minutes, he wasn't sure, nor was he counting, but after a while the heavy whimpers died down and the shivering breaths evened. Scotland pressed another light kiss to England's forehead, whispering, "I've got you. Whatever it is, I've got you," and finally allowing himself to drift back to sleep.


Scotland was awoken from a not entirely pleasant dream involving the paperwork he'd neglected to do and England boss being a total asshat about it, to the feeling of chapped lips against his neck. He cracked open his eyes, blinking a few times before waking up enough to glance down in the direction of the feeling.

England looked up at him, his expression uncharacteristically venerable, and pulled him down into a kiss, hands hesitant around his neck, and body not quite close enough to be touching. When the kiss broke Scotland reached up to run a thumb over his cheekbone, "What was that for?"

England's expression wavered for a brief moment, before he seemed to decide he'd rather not say, and initiated another kiss, soft but just a little desperate.

Scotland broke it after a few seconds, worry on his face, "You had a nightmare last night, do you want to talk about it?"

England let out a shaky breath, shaking his head, "Just promise you're not going anywhere. I don't- I mean-" he let out a noise of frustration at being unable to find the words he wanted in his own language, "I love you," He finally said, "I love you so much."

Scotland wrapped his arms around the other, burying his face in his wiry hair, "I love you too, you know that."

England replied by hugging Scotland so tightly that he thought his ribcage might just collapse. He didn't protest though, not as much as his lungs screamed at him to, because if he cared about England at all he needed to be there for him now, and if a broken ribcage meant England went back to his usual grumpy self, then he'd do it a million times.

"Promise me?"

The question was muffled against Scotland's chest, but even still, Scotland looked down with a puzzled expression.

England shuffled up the bed, pressing their noses together, his eyes shut tight, "Promise me you're not going to leave?"

"Is that what all this is about?"

England shook his head, a grimace on his face, "You- You, and Wales, and North, I-" He sucked in a deep breath to calm himself, "I don't want- not like everyone else."

The younger country seemed to lose every ounce of willpower he had left after that, letting out a sob, "America, and Canada, and South Africa, and Australia, and New Zealand, and-" he choked a little, "India, and- and Ireland, and-"

"England, stop."

England refused to look at him.

"England, stop. I mean it. They're gone, and there's nothing you can do to change that now. Wales, North, and I aren't going anywhere, I promise, not right now, so shut your blubbering." He pressed a kiss to England's temple, "We're staying here. I promise."

Once again, England hugged him close, sniffling into his chest every now and again, "I'm sorry."

Scotland hummed out a questioning note.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I'm being an idiot."

Scotland shook his head, "You're not, just being a big old cry-baby. I guess you really are the same lad who used to go crying to Mum every time I so much as touched you."

England breathed out a laugh, "You bullied me. Mum was rather good at stopping that from happening."

Scotland smiled a little, "Yeah, well, we were kids."

England grumbled something into Scotland's neck which sounded distinctly like, "You were a bloody prick is what you were," but Scotland chose to ignore it and settle back onto the pillow, sighing as England relaxed into him and they both fell back to sleep.


Scotland was awoken from a dreamless sleep to the feeling of England's soft breathing against his neck. He smiled, blinking a few times before waking up enough to decide that waking up was a stupid idea, and cuddling himself back into England's gentle embrace.