A/N: If I'm going to be completely honest about this chapter... I got writer's block... The next chapter will be more interesting...

Disclaimer: Major one needed for this chapter, so I'm just going to site it:
Himaruya, Hidekaz (日丸屋秀和). Axis Powers Hetalia. 1. TOKYOPOP, 2010. 75-80. Print.

So, onward my beloveds!

The Dreams That Always Return


And now I'm thinking about
How I wish I could go back
Just for one more day
One more day with you

~Everytime: Simple Plan


Arthur took his boots off as he walked through the door. There was no need for him to knock, this was technically his house. He took his ornate pirate coat off and hung it on the wall, his large feathered hat going up beside it.

"America! I'm home!" He called.

He smiled slightly as he heard the sound of little feet running down a distant flight of stairs. Sure enough, a pair of bright blue eyes appeared in the doorway curiously.

"England!" He shouted with glee.

The pirate knelt down to catch the little nation as he ran into his arms.

"I missed you!" Alfred said as he nuzzled into Arthur's neck.

"I missed you too, America," he replied, rubbing the smaller boy's back.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Then Arthur noticed that the younger boy's shoulders were shaking.

"America?" He asked, pulling away to look at the boy in concern.

Alfred just clung to his neck tighter and the shaking became more pronounced.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Arthur was seriously concerned now.

"W-why did you take so long?" The trembling boy asked.

The older nation's heart clenched painfully at the sight of his brother crying over his absence.

"America, when you are an adult, you have lots of things to do and it isn't always easy to find time to do the things you want to do," Arthur replied in what he hoped was a soothing voice.

Alfred finally released his neck and rubbed his wet face. "But, you do want to come see me, right?" He asked.

The pirate was secretly glad that his brother had pulled himself together, he was never good at dealing with him whenever he cried. "Of course I do, I always come to see you whenever I can."

Alfred looked at him doubtfully. "Really?" He asked.

Arthur smiled and pulled him close to nuzzle the top of his brown hair. "I've tried to see you whenever I'm not busy."

"You must be busy a lot," the smaller nation commented.

Arthur thought that was a very shrewd observation for so young a nation.

...

Arthur fumbled with a black and white checkered box that had four pillars in the corners, so that it resembled a black and white castle. The box had nearly slipped out of his hands as he saw how much the house had changed from the last time he saw it.

Before the yard was devoid of any life besides grass, and now the walkway was covered with flowers of all sizes and colors. There were flowering bushes lining the yard, and ivy grew up the sides of the large house. The windows sparkled in the sunlight, showing off how clean they were, and a British flag was waving proudly from the top of the house. The entire array was rather impressive.

He walked up the cobblestone path to the front door warily. When had they put the cobblestones there? He wondered.

He could not find a way to open the door and keep ahold of the box, so he pushed his shoulder against the doorbell.

He waited for a few seconds before the door was thrown open and a familiar pair of blue eyes was looking up at him.

Arthur smiled widely, "Hi America!"

"England!" The boy exclaimed, and threw himself at the taller nation.

Arthur was easily knocked off his feet by the force, and the next thing he knew, he was on his back with his large hat and the box a few feet away from them, and Alfred was snuggling against his chest.

Once the older nation got his bearings again, he patted his brother's head and smiled, "Yeah, I missed you too."

Alfred pouted at him, and Arthur thought his heart was going to melt from the sight.

"Don't I get a hug back?" His brother asked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Arthur looked at him in surprise for a moment, before wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close to his chest. Then he decided to tease him. The older nation sighed dramatically, "I suppose so."

Alfred detached himself from the other nation and sat up on his stomache give him a disparaging look. "What is that supposed to mean?" He asked as he planted his little hands on his little hips.

Arthur refrained from laughing with extreme difficulty. "Oh, just that most nations don't demand hugs upon my arrival," he taunted.

Alfred tilted his head to the side and said, "You talk like an old guy."

The other nation rolled his eyes. "You sound like France when you talk like that."

"No!" Alfred said indignantly, "If I sounded like Francie-pants, I'd talk like a pansy!"

Arthur immediately cracked up, "You think 'Francie-pants' sounds like a pansy?"

The smaller nation nodded sagely and crossed his arms. "I know so," he paused for a moment while he thought, "But Canada doesn't agree with me." Then he pouted again.

"Who's Canada?" Arthur asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"My brother! Duh," Alfred replied, rolling his eyes.

"Oh! Right! Canada..." Sitting up allowed him to catch sight of the dramatically changed house. He frowned. "Hey, America, when did the house change so much?"

Alfred looked to where Arthur was looking. "Oh, Canada is the one who did all that. He never used to care about the state of our house, but after Francie-pants got him the second time, he said he 'achieved a sense of style'." He put the words that Matthew had said in air quotes.

"I see..." He continued to examine the house.

Alfred looked slightly crestfallen. "Don't you like it?"

"What?" His attention returned to his brother, "Of course, it looks very nice, America."

The younger nation beamed proudly. "I put the cobblestones in," he bragged, "But I accidentally hurt my thumb with a hammer."

"A hammer? Why would you need a hammer for that?" Arthur asked, bewildered.

"I was trying to open the cement with it!" Alfred grinned.

"That's... That's not how you should open things," Arthur said, then glanced at his brother's hand to see if it was okay.

Following the older nation's gaze, Alfred looked down at his own hand. "Oh, it doesn't hurt anymore. I did the pathway awhile ago. And I know that's not how you open things now. But no one was around to show me at the time!" He protested to the scolding.

Because I wasn't there to show him. A little voice at the back of Arthur's head nagged, but he pushed it aside.

"Hey America, I brought you something," Arthur said.

"Really?" The younger nation brightened considerably.

Arthur nodded and pointed to the box, off to the side.

Alfred climbed off of him to retrieve the box and Arthur stood up to brush himself off. It was not until then that he noticed how tall his little brother was getting.

Alfred retrieved the hat as well as the box.

As he accepted it, Arthur asked, "America, how old are you?"

"Hmm," Alfred tucked the box under one arm, "Eight, I think."

Arthur froze. Has it really been that long?

"What's in the box?" The younger nation asked, oblivious to his brother's thoughts.

"Let's go inside and you can see."

Arthur put his hat back on and they went inside.

"Wow, this is awesome! Thanks, England!" Alfred exclaimed, after seeing the army of toy soldiers nestled in the castle.

"Sure. take good care of it!" Arthur replied with a smile, "And try to be more careful next time you use a hammer."

His warning fell on deaf ears as Alfred examined the soldiers more closely. "Wow, look at all the different kinda soldiers in here! Their faces are all unique too!"

Arthur looked on happily. I knew he would like them. "Of course, they're all special ordered, after all."

Alfred came running at him with one, and made the soldier punch him playfully.

Jeez, he's getting strong. But he pushed that thought away too.

...

Arthur stood at the front of the house yet again. With a start, he realized that the British flag that had been flying from the roof was gone. He puzzled over that for a minute, but there was no other flag in its place, so he simply dismissed it as nothing. Is it just me, or does this place seem to be getting bigger?

Whether the house was actually bigger or not would remain a mystery to him. He hovered anxiously at the door, unsure whether he should knock or just walk in. It was still technically his house, but Alfred had been more vocal about what he wanted lately. He had changed a lot...

Arthur shook that thought aside, adjusted the package draped over his arm, and walked in. He took his boots off, but he had forgone the pirate attire long ago.

"America! I'm home!" He called.

When he did not hear any footsteps immediately, he became a little concerned.

"America?"

"Hold on!" A voice from upstairs called.

About a minute later, Arthur was still standing awkwardly in the doorway as he heard someone come down the stairs and peek around the corner.

"Hi England!" Alfred grinned and walked over to give his brother a hug.

Arthur happily returned it, but it was brief. Goodness, he is almost as tall as I am!

"How have you been?" Alfred asked as he pulled away.

Arthur shrugged. "I've been better. I think Prussia, Spain, and France are about ready to declare war on Austria. But I've been worse too."

Alfred nodded with a sympathetic look on his face. "Yeah, you look pretty tired... Do you want a cup of tea."

Arthur smiled and nodded. "Yes, I would love some."

Alfred started to make his way to the kitchen. "Earl Grey?"

"Yes!" Arthur called back, as he took the paper off the package on his arm.

He went into the kitchen as Alfred put the kettle on the stove to boil.

The older nation examined his brother's attire. He was wearing jeans and a cotton t-shirt, black gloves, a striped scarf, and no shoes at all. Perfect.

"America, look at this," He said, as he placed the suit on the table for the other to see.

Alfred came to look eagerly, then gave Arthur a look of confusion. "Huh? What's this?"

"And this is for you." Arthur gestured proudly to the array. A heavy black button-up coat, a white button-up shirt with a stiff collar, a black silk bowtie, and pristine black pants.

"It looks expensive. Not my style, either," Alfred commented, as he picked it up and examined it.

"That's no good! Your wardrobe is getting sloppy!" Arthur gestured to his brother's current attire. "If you don't dress properly, it makes me look bad!"

Alfred looked a little hurt momentarily, then pushed it aside. "Give it a rest, these clothes are comfortable!"

Arthur gave Alfred his best impression of a 'mom look' and gestured expectantly toward the suit.

The younger rolled his eyes and left the room with the suit in hand.

The kettle started whistling not long after and Arthur prepared a cup while he waited. He knew where everything was, thankfully that had not changed.

When Alfred walked back into the room, he was scratching the back of his neck, the bowtie hung around his shoulders. "The collar is so stiff, I can't even get the buttons in. And I have no idea how to tie a bowtie," he admitted sheepishly.

Arthur stood up and hummed thoughtfully. He went over to the sink, wet his hands, then went to fuss over his brother's collar.

Alfred sighed out of exasperation and stood patiently as the collar was forcefully buttoned and the bowtie was tied painfully tight.

Arthur stepped back to admire his handiwork while Alfred pretended breathing was not suddenly an issue.

"Let's go see it," Arthur gestured to upstairs so he could see himself in the mirror that hung in the older nation's room.

Alfred rolled his eyes, but followed. He had the courtesy to not comment on the dust that had accumulated in the other nation's bedroom during the years of his absence.

Wow, Arthur thought, Have I really been gone this long?

"America, how old are you?" The older nation asked, furrowing his thick eyebrows.

Alfred looked at him in surprise, then caught himself before he frowned. "Fifteen," He said quietly, "I'm fifteen, England."

Then he turned away to examine himself in the mirror, before Arthur noticed the sadness in his eyes.

Oblivious to the younger nation's thoughts, Arthur asked, "See? Doesn't that look a lot better?"

"I dunno," Alfred began, looking at how uptight the suit made him look, "Maybe for special occasions," He said, more to satisfy his brother than anything.

...

Alfred knelt in the rain, aiming his gun with an unsteady hand. He always knew this day would come, but he never thought it would be so hard. Half of him wanted desperately to return to Arthur, but the other half was fighting tooth and nail for him to pull that trigger and get it over with. Stability or Freedom?

"Freedom..." He whispered to himself, then he spoke up, "I'm sorry, England, but I'm gonna choose Freedom."

He tried to pull the trigger, but he just could not bring himself to do it. Instead, he stood up and walked closer to the older nation, for once having to look down a little to meet his intense green eyes.

"I'm not a kid anymore. And I'm not your little brother, either. As of now, I'm declaring my Independence."

The gaze of those green eyes grew more and more intense as he spoke, finally snapping as he lunged with his bayonnet. Alfred was surprised, but he blocked with his own gun. Why didn't he just shoot? He wondered.

"I won't allow it!" Arthur shouted. "You don't have the strength to stand on your own!"

He sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that, rather than Alfred. He knew that statement was a lie, he watched the younger nation grow up, and he knew perfectly well that he would do just fine without the guidance of his brother. Maybe that is what scared him so much.

One of the sides, they were not sure who, shouted, "Fire!"

But no shots went off, everyone stood still, guns still aimed at the opposing side. Arthur's finger was on the trigger, his green eyes locked on blue ones that were ready to accept the fate that was sure to befall him. He knew the risks, but fiery determination burned in his gaze. The sight of the determined resignation made Arthur fall to his knees.

"I... I can't do it," Arthur said, "You bloody fool." Tears started pouring down his face and he dropped his gun.

He knew Alfred was looking at him in concern, and that thought made him cover his face as he cried harder. "Why... Dammit..."

Alfred looked at him, half shocked, and half concerned. He had no answer for the distraught nation, "England..."

Their breath came out in little white clouds and he looked at the bloody battlefield around them.

"You used to be... So big..."

And Arthur noticed through the rain, the tears, and the smokey haze of their breath, the flag flying off the roof of Alfred's house. It certainly was not his own.

...oOo...

Arthur woke up with a start, and put a hand over his racing heart. He looked at the sunlight streaming in through his window and realized where he was.

"It's been awhile since I had that dream..."

...oOo...

A/N

Again, I am sorry, like I said, I got writer's block. And this chapter needed major citing because the entire thing was pretty much taken from five pages of the first volume of Hetalia (75 to 80), I simply embellished it to explain my take on the relationship between Arthur and Alfred. Sorry about the random backstory, but I felt like a cushion might be needed between the last depressing chapter and the next chapter, which will be pretty emotionally intense as well.

I have gotten writer's block because I realized something about relations between the U.S and China that will make the next chapter difficult, so I am still working on it in the interest of accuracy. Bear with me, I'll have something better next week T_T

Love your thoughts though ^^