OH, MY GOD! 4 MONTHS?! HAVE I REALLY NOT UPDATED FOR 4 BLOODY MONTHS?!

yeah, I apologize for that. It's just that I have several other stories that accidentally took all my time from this one, and my schooldays were nearing the end, so I thought might as well wait for summer so I can write uninhibited. So starting today, I will write for at least an hour on various stories! Yay!

Disclaimer: seriously? Do we really need these up here? Yeah, I TOTALLY own Hetalia. Totally...

Arthur jumped recklessly after him, and suddenly he was being thrown this way and that, shaken, seeing nothing but those haunting blue eyes change into demonic red and black ones, hearing his name being called over and over...

"Arthur! ARTHUR!"

He woke up.

"Alfred!" England shrieked, opening his eyes to find those azure ones that had been haunting his nightmare staring concernedly at him. They widened in shock and relief at his outburst, the owner smiling. America's smile slid off his face at the expression of pure terror on England's.

"Alfred..." England said shakily, suddenly hugging America as tears spilled down his pasty white face. America, shocked by the sudden contact and vulnerability of the shorter blonde, didn't move away.

"...I hate her...I hate her so much...why us, America? Why US?" England mumbled, almost to himself. Tears still slid down his face and he did nothing to stop them. America slowly unclasped England's hands from around his neck, but held them in his.

"Ar-England, what happened to you?" The American, so used to the Brit's usual boisterous and haughty facade, was caught off guard by his sudden clinginess.

"...stupid fucking..*HIC* thing..." England mumbled, his head down in embarrassment. America unclasped one of his hands and grabbed England's chin, forcing his face upwards. Tears still slid traitorously down England's pale face.

"Arthur, what happened?"

At the mention of his human name, England looked America unwillingly in the eye. The initial shock and raw terror from his nightmare had faded, calming the Brit somewhat. He sighed deeply.

"I was in your old house, though I couldn't remember at the time. The one I helped build for you in the woods when you were younger. I couldn't remember anything, not even my own name..." Now that he thought about it, the entire dream made a small ounce of sense. America tensed up slightly at the thought of his old home. "...it looked as if nobody had lived there for years, centuries even. Everything was covered in white cloth, or destroyed, or rotted through. And you were there...in the attic...though i didn't know who you were, it looked like you had been in a horrible accident...t-there was blood e-everywhere..." America looked panicked now. England's eyes dilated with fear at the next memory.

"You seemed unconscious, or dead...I considered giving you CPR, but you woke up before I could...And then it appeared, behind you, dragging you toward a-a break or hole in the air...you screamed something I couldn't hear over and over, though now I think it was my name...my real name, and I suddenly remembered everything. You looked so scared, in so much anguish...and then you were gone...gone through a black hole that I desperately tried to follow...but couldn't...I'm sorry" Tears welled up in his eyes again.

America stood shocked, both by the horrid nature of the dream and England's sudden and unnecessary apology.

"Why the hell are you sayin' sorry? It's just a dream...a really fucked up dream." He stared into England's eyes for a second, allowing his words to sink in before handing the shaking nation a glass of blessingly cool water.

"A-America," he said, gripping the cold glass tightly and still sniffling, "that's just it, it didn't feel like a dream at all! I actually thought I'd lost you when I woke up, and I couldn't handle it. The pain. It was overwhelming..." His words trailed off as he took a calming breath. He peeked at America through his lashes. America was stunned and a little touched at the Brit's admission.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere, y'know. This is MY house."

England laughed halfheartedly and wiped his eyes with his hands.

"You know, I don't think you could leave if you tried, I guess you're stuck with me America."

"Yeah, I guess so. It's not so bad, being stuck with an old man like you." He laughed, a little like his old annoying self. England chuckled.

"It's amazing how much you've matured over the past few days. We should have done this sooner."

America looked insulted.

"I've always been mature, British dude. I'm just such a hero that sometimes it's not that obvious." He smiled widely.

England smiled and took a look at his rather dark surroundings.

"Where are we anyway? How long have I been asleep?"

America looked thoughtful for a few seconds before answering.

"We're still in the closet. I didn't...umm... *cough* have the..uh..courage to move you..." America looked immensely embarrassed, "But you did have another 'fit'. You were writhing and hyperventilating at times...I think you evened moaned my name once or twice...in terror of course. And you slept for...maybe 2 hours, I can't be sure."

England blushed heavily at what America implied, but decided to say nothing.

"Well, did anything happen while I was in Nightmare Mode?"

"Not that I know."

He relaxed slightly, "That's good. The bitch seems to be calming down, though I think I know how to get rid of her completely."

"Really? How? Are you going to use more of your magic?" America seemed slightly in awe of England now that he knew that England's abilities weren't the imagined result of "a few loose screws".

"Kind of. Since she is a demon, we need to perform an exorcism. Though since neither of us is a priest, and we can't leave the house, I'll have to use an old black magic spell that usually banishes the 'minion spawn of Satan." He smiled wryly at his wording, because he didn't really believe in God anymore. America looked confused.

"What do you mean, 'it's supposed to'?"

"It's an old spell. They sometimes backfire because the creator didn't iron out the kinks, but I'll do my best with what I have."

This did not reassure the American very much, but he let it go,

"Can I do something to help?"

England thought for several moments, working out different scenarios in his head.

"I guess I could try to teach you a couple of spells, for protection and whatnot. But you might not even be able to use them, since the magical trait from my family isn't exactly bursting from you."

"I don't care. Anything is better than nothing!"

"Very true. OK, let's figure out what we're going to do."

America watched the British nation talk away, almost like his earlier episode didn't happen. But, he was excited too. After these last few days of being scared shitless in his own home,

They had a plan to take it back.

Gotta love that happy, hopeful note this chapter ends on. I hope you enjoyed! And if you're wondering why I keep putting yaoi-ish scenes into my chapters, it's because it's funny. I mean, even in the actual anime they have a certain tension around them that makes me think of a watered down version of France and England. It's hilarious! Anyway if you don't like you can tell me or whatever.

And I also believe that America COULD use magic if he actually knew what the hell he was doing.

And I have a question for you all: Do the characters switch topics too fast? I proofread and it looks like they do, but I don't want to change it...

Any who, THANK YOU! XD 3