Wow! It's the penultimate chapter! Thanks everyone for your lovely comments, hope you like this one! Now off to watch the FOOTBALL! GO ON ENGLAND … beat Germany :D

9

England looked into in his old room, full of old war relics and reminders of the past. The mementos conjured some form of emotion, be it a happy one, nostalgia or something on the more negative side of the scale, but no reminder was more poignant than the one standing in front of him. The red coat England was looking out of the window dejectedly, as if he had already lost hope that Arthur, the modern day England would ever see him, he was pawing the window panes, trying to look past the garden to see what was out in the greater world, there was a curiosity that made Arthur smile at the very 'un'frightening ghost.

But Arthur was still apprehensive, which was a rarity for him. He'd never met this version of himself before. He had no idea why he was there and what kind of conversation to expect, the only thing he did know is that the ghost must have been there for a good reason... or as he expected… a bad reason.

"Hello." England cleared his throat as he spoke, and let no nerves show in his voice.

The Recoat appeared to be startled by this stranger, but it was quite obvious that his guest wasn't unwelcome, he was so surprised, that he walked closer, almost face to face with Arthur, to make sure he hadn't gone delusional.

"I'm sorry, I should have knocked, but… well you know, I didn't think it was nec-"

"You can see me?" The Red Coat blurted out in sheer surprise again, looking at his future self, making sure there wasn't anyone else in the room who he may have been talking to.

"Well I'm talking to you directly, so yes, of course I can see you…" England said rather matter of factly.

" What do you want?" the young solider pulled his gun up rashly, he sounded a little frightened, even though this was what he always wanted, he too felt a little apprehensive. Fearing that Russia's goading was true.

England was mildly surprised by this reaction, but wasn't worried as he had been with his pirate self, he remembered this period of his history quite well, and could recall how tetchy he was. Behind this England's bark, there was little bite.

"I'm here to talk to you… I've never met you before… but for the first time ever, I could tell there was another ghost that I needed to visit…" he sounded distant. "…When you were talking to America… I knew you were here… I could feel your thoughts in my head… It was quite unnerving… so I felt that we needed to see each other again," England took note of the gun that was at point blank range. "And put that thing down for goodness sake! You're not going to shoot me… you don't have the balls and even if you did… it would be extremely stupid."

The Redcoat realized that pulling his gun up was a nervous reflex that he had, he looked at Arthur (the modern day England that is) who was tapping his foot impatiently. He pulled it down immediately and sighed. "I'm sorry, force of habit and all of that..." He replied, his sigh seem to dispel a great deal of tension from the room.

England smiled slightly, he was reluctant to relax completely. He knew that he was still in a precarious situation, having ghosts in one's house was hardly a relaxing experience, even if this one was probably the best of a bad bunch. "I understand."

The red coat let out another sigh in relief. Despite the officious tone his other self used, he seemed fairly gentle and forgiving of his past's self's paranoia. "I'm sorry… but I think you might have come too late." The ghost pointed at the window, "It's nearly daybreak… and to be honest, I'm feeling horribly weak…" The young spirit's posture certainly suggested this, his facial expression was drawn and careworn, his shoulders were drooping uncharacteristically. He finally went to the ground and sat down, leaning on his musket heavily. "I always get like this… I suppose it means that I'll be leaving soon… I use the word leaving with a pinch of salt… I'll almost certainly be back next year… in this stupid bloody house…" he muttered the last part of the sentence with frustration seeping into his voice, but then seemed to be speaking to himself and brighten up a little. "But still… I should not dwell on the bad points, at least you are here now and-"

As the young phantom continued to speak to himself, England cut into his rambling,

"You must have been like this every year…Not knowing when you'd disappear… having no one to talk to… it must be frightening." he sympathised with the young spectre, who looked jaded. "To be a ghost who is living on borrowed time must be bad enough, but not knowing how long you'll be hanging around, must be even worse."

England was fully aware that he could deal with his ghosts better (and 'better' means 'quickly' in this instance) depending on the events of the year. It would often revolve around how much ammunition the ghost's might have to manipulate him with. If the year had been a good one, and England was prospering, he could handle the ghosts quite easily and get rid of them without difficulty. If he was suffering from a recession, having political difficulties, fighting in wars and friendless, then it was much harder to get rid of the unwelcome spirits, who would ultimately try and take their chance at being him for a year… and the year 2010 hadn't been the best for him.

But this ghost wouldn't have known anything about any of this for so many years, he may have thought he was the only ghost there, he knew nothing of his current self either... England didn't know exactly how long he'd been there. He may well have been haunting the house every summer solstice since 1776.

"Well, yes… it was rather disconcerting, sometimes I'd be here for about 30 minutes… then other times, I've been hanging around until the early hours of the morning… like this time, I've never understood what effects the amount of time I'm here." The young man said tersely, not allowing himself to indulge too much in his own self pity, no matter how tempting that might have been.

"Well, if it puts your mind at rest, it depends on how long it takes for me to get rid of the other spirits in the house." England said. "That usually depends on how good a year I've had as a whole."

"So you've had a pretty horrible year then?" The ghost replied flatly.

"I've taken the rough with the smooth." England answered diplomatically, then changed his mind and added bluntly. "It's been pretty shit actually."

"I thought you might say that." The ghost answered. "I didn't know there were other ghosts here… who are they?"

"I don't believe that's really any of your business." England said abruptly, reluctant to admit that the personal demons still bothered him were loneliness that manifested itself as his self as child and his megalomaniac tendencies, which were the pirate. It was embarrassing and a little bit scary as well. It was just as well that the ghosts couldn't meet each other, if they did, then who knows what would have happened to Arthur.

"The way I see it right now you have about 30 minutes at best." England said, looking at his watch. "So…" he joined his younger self's apparition and sat with him "I suppose you have a lot of questions and things you want to say to me… I feel you deserve my undivided attention…for at least 30 minutes, it seems like a miniscule amount of time when I think of how long you must have been waiting for this opportunity." England was being uncharacteristically pleasant to the young ghost, who seemed wary of this fact.

"Russia said… Some comments… about the others… not liking us… and our own people not liking us…"

"Oh he did, did he?" England frowned, "That's so typical of him."

"I don't know if he did it on purpose." The young ghost started defensively.

"Oh no, he probably did, he's Russia after all." England said sternly. "Trust him to throw that into the works, when I see him tomorrow I'm going to-" England's rant was cut off prematurely.

"Is it true? Has everyone lost faith in our country?" the ghost tried to summon strength and conviction in his statement, yet at the best, sounded weary.

"Of course they've not-" England said with a careless laugh, he looked at the ghost who seemed less than convinced. England paused and continued, a little less cocky. "Entirely …"

The ghost's facial expression was a mix of 'I knew it' and absolute disappointment. Arthur began to speak again, trying to put the ghost at ease. "...not everyone who lives' in England likes it… but there are many people who love our country too… we have lots of things to be proud of…" England stopped hesitantly. The young ghost didn't seem persuaded, this in turn caused Arthur to act rashly and say the first words that occurred to him. "Why should it make a difference about what people think about us? I'm happy with the way I am because I-"

"You seem to be making a lot of excuses." the redcoat said, he narrowed his eyes and looked at his present self condemningly. "You're lying…you're not happy with yourself, are you?"

England looked at the ground, he felt as if he was being put on trial, but in a much more self deprecating way that the pirate had done.

Whereas the pirate simply wanted to take over, it seemed that this ghost was keener on making England admit his faults. It reminded Arthur of one of those confessional booths in a church, he shuddered at the long list of things he would have had to confess if he ever went to one of those…

"I'm not lying… but I suppose I am making excuses…" he looked away. "We can't be everyone's friend all of the time… no one can."

"I could take your body now… and start again…I could make them all my allies-" The young man said suddenly, with a touch of desperation in his voice, as if this had just dawn on him that ghosts could in fact possess people.

England rolled his eyes and shook his head. He surmised that despite what the ghost was saying, there was no way that he could ever take over his body, he lacked the conviction to do it.

England decided that he would try to be tactful and patient with the ghost, despite it being so naively irritating "I understand… how it felt for you… when he left… I was you once upon a time, but I get over it and-"

"THAT ISN'T THE POINT-" The young phantom shouted, he then dropped the gun forward, it made an almighty bang, that caused Arthur to jump. "The empire diminishes… I heard Russia talking about it before-"

"Yes but you have to understand that in the end I made the best dec-" Arthur began.

"…Why do they all leave me behind? Didn't I care for them well enough?" the ghost's voice cracked with grief. "God as my witness I did the best I could but I-"

Arthur was conscious of the fact that this self was becoming emotional fragile, which in turn would affect him too, and with so little time before the morning, he couldn't offered to have any more emotional crises, his meeting with the others would commence in less than 5 hours. "I know I did bu-"

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU KNOW! WHY DOESN'T HE KNOW? the young solider sobbed, pointing at the direction that America had walked away in, Arthur assumed that 'he' was referring to America. "WHY IS DID HE TREAT ME WITH SUCH CONTEMPT AND DISREGARD? DID HE FORGET EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED BETWEEN US BEFORE WE SPLIT UP? ALL OF THE THINGS THAT I DID FOR HIM?"

"I'm sure he didn't." England said, trying to calm his other self down and calm himself down in the process. "I'm sure he remembers it very well but…"

The redcoat's anger and shouting broke into a personal lament; he put his head in his hands and cried in frustration. "I- I made the wrong choice didn't I?" his hands covered his face, to hide his weakness. "I shouldn't have let him go… I should have kept hold of him, then the others would have stayed too… It's my fault that you're so unhappy."

The root of the ghost's anxiety became apparent, it wasn't just that the others had left England, it was that his choice had resulted in more loneliness for his present day self.

England seemed utterly confused by his past self's misplaced guilt, but also touched that out of all the ghosts, he was the only contrite one among them. "It's your fault?"

"I made a decision in the heat of the moment… thinking of what was best for him… but now you're suffering the consequences-" the young red coat started, the words seem to trip over themselves. He had longed to say all of this for so long, but now the moment had arrived. He was so desperate to say everything that the words came out in a flood. He tried to cram in everything he'd ever thought of whilst brooding alone. "I… did you a disservice… As soon as I let him go… and then the other's followed his example and you were left-" The young ghost sounded so utterly devastated by the young American's choice and the events that would have followed.

England realized that it had affected him so much more than he remembered it… Now that he was with the ghost, he could remember quite clearly all the deliberations he had after it had happened, all of the time he'd spent thinking 'if only I hadn't done this' and how he had replayed the events again and again in his head. This ghost was a direct result of those times. All the angst, misery and brooding were his constant companions.

"No." Arthur said clearly.

"No?" the red coat said slowly. "'No' what?"

"You didn't make the wrong choice at all." England said gently. He was looking at the floor, he had the smallest smile on his face, even if it was coupled with a touch of melancholy.

"But they all left… I'm all alone-" he began. "You could have been so much more than-"

"The decision you made… I made… was sound." England continued, trying to gain some momentum. "We did what was best for him… and ultimately that is what matters… It doesn't matter what happens or happened to me…"

"But-" the young ghost started, unable to comprehend his other self's willingness to be alone. "You-"

"You mustn't blame yourself for my situation… Even if I had the chance to change things… I wouldn't have it any other way, to know that they are doing well on their own… is good enough for me."

The young solider looked as if he didn't understand what England was saying. "But-"

"You're too close to the situation… and maybe… you're still a little too young to understand it but… When you take responsibility of something, you have to do what is best for them… not what is best for yourself."

The young ghost looked puzzled, he didn't seem to agree with England, but neither had anything to say in contrast… it was obvious that he had cared for America and all of his colonies dearly.

"It was a turning point… for me." England began, turning his attention to the ghost. "Letting him go… meant that I had changed… in a positive way…I've been haunted by a pretty troubled past… and I've had some very dark times… but you… you are different … I'm not haunted by you… per say…"

"What does that mean exactly?" The young ghost said with a frown.

"It means… You were the better part… of a lesser man…," England answered simply.

"Maybe… your regret is what is keeping me here." The redcoat replied. "You can appreciate that you made a better choice for him and for the entire world by letting him leave… but… you can still wish he was yours…" his comment trailed off.

"Perhaps you're right… But I try not to think about it." England answered.

"I had hoped… that he would care about me one day… and things would be like they once were-" the ghost began.

"Well… we knew that wasn't going to happen." The current day England said stiffly. "I've stopped relying on others, it doesn't help in the long run."

"Why doesn't that bother you?" The young man's voice was riddled with apprehension. Even after the current England showing such affection to those he cared about in his words. He still seemed more than happy to reject the company of others, and didn't expect any thanks for all he had done for them. "How can you just accept that they never thanked you? That they are just going to leave you behind? What if you need help? Then what are you going to do?"

England looked surprised at this surge of honesty from the ghost. Despite this, he answered the question as best as he could. "I… I'll hope."

"That's quite a risk you're taking…" The young man said sadly, looking at the present day England, who was now looking at the ground, but with less of a smile now. "I feel that if I had kept America… you wouldn't be the man you are now-"

"It has happened…" England replied again, with an unemotional/ careless tone in his voice. "And it cannot be changed… And neither should it be, things are better for the others this way."

"So I become you…" the young solider sounded a little regretful of this, not that he intended for it to come out that way, he was simply so shocked that his current self had resigned to the fact that solitude was acceptable if it meant the others would be happy.

This bothered the current day England far more than he thought it would, seeing the ghost so disappointed seemed to affect him more than the much more than the pirate or child ghost had.

"…Why do you act the way you do all the time? Why do you pretend that you like being alone, and treat everyone with so much disdain?" the spectre asked, unable to look England in the eyes, he had started staring intently at the floor boards.

"Because if I do I can bear to see him… or any of them, and not feel so pissed off that they all left me," his sentence ended on a sad note. "I suppose… I do it to convince myself as well. People have never been really affectionate towards me anyway, it's not like I'd be good at being nice to people, I can't pretend I'm something I'm not."

"What becomes of the empire?" the young Briton asked, now back at the window, already knowing the answer, but was desperately trying to coax more detail from Arthur. "Do I end up alone again?"

England didn't speak, he remained sat down and made no movements that were indicative, but the ghost knew exactly what this meant.

'Yes…'

"I see." The solider said. "This is the way things will always be I suppose… and what about Scotland, Ireland and Wales?"

"They still dickheads if that is what you're asking." England replied, a little smile crept on his face. He saw himself as the relative all the other members of the family hated. But he didn't care enough about their company to be troubled by this. This smirk annoyed his younger self.

"WHY ON EARTH WOULD SOMEONE BE HAPPY THAT THEY DON'T HAVE ANY FRIENDS? OR EVEN FAMILY THAT LIKES THEM?" He shouted frustratedly.

"Because that is the way things are… and to wallow in self pity accomplishes nothing." England answered sternly, not deterred by the ghost's rebuke anymore. This ghost seemed nothing more than an emotional wreak, who seemed incapable of thinking that he'd have to do something without someone giving him a pat on the back. "I accept my lot in life, I shall take it with both hands and make the best of the situation that had been presented to me… I couldn't care less about what the others think of me, or wherever they like me or not, so long as my people are safe." He finished. "Now if you have a problem with that then it is tough…"

"You've gone backwards." The young man scowled, he sounded young for his age when he said this. As if he knew England was right, but still disagreed "You're just like you used to be… and one day you'll be alone and no one will come to help you."

"If that time ever comes then maybe I'll change… until that time… please keep your uninformed criticism to yourself… besides…there are provisions in the world… meaning that I won't ever be totally alone… even if I wanted to, I have too many responsibilities to live in true isolation." England brought this piece to the table, but there was something about the comment that didn't quite stand up.

The ghost considered how England had been keen to point out he would merely 'hope' that the others would help him, rather than rely on them.

"Having allies… isn't the same as having friends is it?" The young man frowned, repeating the words of his present day self from some time ago. The rain seemed to be dying down now and had become an awkward but not unpleasant mist "Is the weather still horrible in England?"

England laughed wryly. "Naturally… I keep waiting for this bloody global warming to happen, bring it on bitches… I've got my sun cream ready… Apparently this would also mean I'd have wetter winters and less snow… so I'm not sure if I'd like that." England looked at the ghost, who appeared to be drawing blanks at the phrase 'global warming'. "Err... Never mind, it's still wet windy and mostly cold."

There was a short and weighty pause, before the solider brought up the common topic for the conversation.

"Does he write to you?" The young man said, fixated by the young American who seemed to govern his world for some reason, despite him having left him behind. "Well I don't suppose you just write anymore do you?"

"He speaks to me, when it suits him." England said, eager to move away from talking about the American, who quite frankly, had an uncanny ability to annoy him, even when he wasn't in the room. "I manage…but…" he joined the apparition at the window again, as the sun peeps over the horizon slowly, it was nothing more than a dull ball of colour due to the mist. "He's usually just laughing things off, telling me things will be okay…then he's always rushing off… to talk to someone else…"

"I suppose technology allows you to communicate so much more easily." The young solider began. "So you can speak… to each other across great distances? That seems like quite the invention."

"It doesn't really help…he's too busy for me these days..." England added non-chalantly and looked at his own hands, which seemed to be catching a chill from the glass.

The ghost couldn't help but think that Arthur was putting a brave face on, pretending that America's sudden lack of interest didn't bother him. And perhaps America didn't annoy the Briton as much as he pretended he did.

"I wish such a device had been there when I was around, I would have talked to him everyday…" the ghost said, with a genuine dreamy quality to his voice. "Things could have been so different."

Although England was rather keen to point out that, as they had said many times, things couldn't be changed, and what had happened had happened, he restrained himself. He felt this version of himself wanted to be entertained by someone, after being ignored for so long.

"I know I know." The ghost said, with a smile, pre-empting England's thought, and saving him the difficulty of phrasing it in a sensitive fashion. "I should stop living in the past… but for me… It isn't the past… it is what happened during my time…"

England looked at the young man, who was chasing dreams that were doomed to remain buried in the past. "The time of exploration and conquest is over on earth now…We're looking up at the stars."

"The stars we used to navigate by." The ghost said, again with a wistful lilt in his voice. "Now that is fascinating... I suppose there isn't much left on earth to discover now is there?"

"I wouldn't say that exactly." Arthur smiled. "We've still got a lot to learn about the world… but… We are all connected now, even if we don't all get along, the whole world is becoming closer, we can all celebrate the good things that we share… and the things that are different. The playing field is much more equal… so I suppose things are getting a little better."

As the sun rose, the spectre seemed to become paler and paler. England seemed worried that he hadn't satisfied his past self very well, the solider put his hand on England's shoulder. "It's time for me to leave now I think… the sun is giving me some very unsubtle hints, if you get my meaning."

England nodded. "I'm sorry… I feel like I must be a disappointment to you now that you've met me… Maybe you're here to remind me to shake a leg and try and work harder."

"No. I think I know why I'm here now…" the young solider answered finally. "In your own words… I'm here to remind you of the better part of yourself… Even if that means you're lonely… I think you've showed me a thing of two about myself… maybe I should stop being so bloody miserable, and try and focus on the good things?"

"I think we could both do with a bit of that." England replied.

"So, please don't forget me…"

The ghost became nothing more than a whisper and a thought. England was finally on his own, his hands slid down the glass slowly, all the emotions of the night seemed to catch up with him, he put his fingers through his hair and rubbed his eyes, he slowly slid down into a sitting position and felt so tired. "I'm really getting far too old for this." His head rested on his knees as he fell asleep for an hour, before he'd have to endure his house guests' derogatory comments about how tired he looked.

After a quick power nap, he locked himself in his study and worked until half an hour before the meeting. He decided that after everyone had gone he was definitely going to the pub…