Yeah, this chapter is very late but don't worry, I have the next one all written and ready for my editing. I'll post it when I'm done. This isn't my best chapter (it's the second to the last one, by the way) but I hope you all like it anyway. *mumbles* the next one is so much better. Thanks again for everyone who supported this.

***

When the world stopped spinning, it took a few seconds for America to realize that they were back in the present. To be precise, they were back in the very same room this had all started in the very same clothes they had been wearing. It was as if nothing had changed, at least that was what Alfred thought before he noticed England on the floor, still bleeding.

While the other countries were still trying to make sense of it all, Alfred wasted no time getting out his phone and calling the emergency number at the White House for government employees. England was a country, so taking him to a normal doctor would just result in awkward questions.

He knelt at England's side and took of his jacket, pressing it to the wound as he gently applied pressure. Arthur's chest was still rising and falling ever so slightly but if he didn't act fast enough that could change as well. I'm not going to fail you this time, he thought as he waited for someone to answer the other line.

Finally, someone answered. "Hello?" Alfred asked immediately.

"You have reached a government—"

"Quick Fred," Alfred recognized the dispatcher's voice. "I need an ambulance at my current location ASAP."

"Who is this?"

"It's Alfred. How soon can you send that ambulance?"

"Alfred F. Jones?"

"Yes, who else could it be, just get me the bloody ambulance," Alfred yelled. Did he just use the word 'bloody'? It's a symptom of spending too much time with England, perhaps? No time to think about that now...

"Alright, alright," the voice at the other end of the line asked. "You're still at that international event, right?"

"Yeah."

"What's the nature of the incident?"

"It's a stab wound, there's severe bleeding."

"You're bleeding?

"No! Arthur's bleeding. Just get the ambulance," Alfred snapped impatiently.

"The ambulance will be there in approximately three minutes," Fred replied hastily.

"That's good. Should I try moving him to the entrance of the building?"

"Is he conscious?"

"No."

"Then don't even try, just attempt to stop the bleeding somehow. You can try stopping the blood flow near the puncture site."

"Right," America just replied, wondering which of the countries knew anything about first aid. He ended the call without even saying goodbye to the dispatcher, motioning for the other countries to come and help.

They had just woken up from their sleeps, wondering if it was all a dream. America had been spared that confusion since his mind was too preoccupied thinking of England and hoping for his safety.

Switzerland stepped in and attempted to stop the flow of blood by pressing his finger and applying pressure to the closest major artery. America left him to it. Switzerland was the origin of Red Cross after all. It helped some but England was still bleeding profusely. Many of the other nations were gathering around panicking, like Sealand who was now trying to shake Arthur awake. America had to call Sweden to stop the boy from trying to slap England conscious.

Some, though, were genuinely giving their best to help. Even France was contributing, trying to control the crowd of countries so that England could actually have air to breath. It rather disturbed America, though, that Francis was dissuading them by threatening to strip.

After the three minutes of wait, which had seemed too long for America, the ambulance finally arrived. The paramedics were led in by Hungary and Austria, carrying a stretcher they would be using to carry England.

They tried to move Arthur as little as possible as the loaded him unto the stretcher. America helplessly followed, along with the rest of the nations, not sure what he could do to help his friend now.

England was carried into the ambulance while the paramedics started asking questions. Alfred couldn't help but feel relieved that he was familiar with the ambulance crew. They had brought him to the ER before when he accidentally tripped and sliced his forehead while running around the White House grounds (long story). They were fully aware of the nation-status of everyone present, being private employees of the government and all.

"What happened to him, Alfred?" one of them asked him.

"It's hard to explain. Nation business," Alfred replied laconically.

"I don't think anyone can count the number of emergencies you countries get on 'nation business'."

"It comes with the job."

"Right. Well, just to get our facts straight. The patient is Arthur Kirkland, representing England of the United Kingdom, correct?"

Alfred nodded. "Correct."

"The patient has suffered from severe bleeding for around three minutes now, losing a lot of blood in the process. Correct?"

"Technically," Alfred answered, unsure how to explain the time shift.

"All right! We're ready to go," another paramedic called out.

"I'm going with you," Alfred told them, already climbing into the ambulance. "I can elaborate further on the nature of the accident."

"I want to come," Sealand yelled, breaking from his foster parent's grasps. "I'm his brother. I have a right to come...or something like that anyway."

Alfred knew they didn't have time to argue, "Fine, you come along as well. Everyone else, you can follow in your own vehicles." A few countries nodded in agreement, others were still too panicky to respond. It was a lot to take in, after all, that that wild adventure actually happened and that it was very possible that England could die after all this. America tried not to think of those things but he could find no other way to distract himself in the cramped ambulance.

Once or twice, Peter tried to strike up a conversation but Alfred had only responded with a nod. That is one difference between the two of them; Sealand tries to hide his misery by acting like everything's normal while Alfred stays silent, thoughts racing.

When they finally arrived, England was rushed to the ER. America and Sealand were not allowed to enter the room so they had to stay in the large waiting room. There were a few others there and Alfred couldn't help but wonder how many of them were waiting to see if their loved ones would come out alive.

Time passed slowly for Alfred. He could hardly bear his first thirty minutes of waiting. He resolved so ask about England as soon as someone came out of the ER. A few minutes later, a nurse did.

"Excuse me," America approached her with the most charming smile he could manage at the moment. "I just need to know if my friend, Mr. Kirkland is alright."

The nurse just looked at him apologetically, "I'm sorry but I don't really have the authority to inform you."

America was about to insist when the ER door opened again. Alfred recognized the doctor who had been treating his 'nation business' injuries the past few years. America turned away from the nurse and headed toward him.

"England?" he asked without preamble.

"He's lost a lot of blood. The stab wound didn't seem to pierce any of his vital organs, or his kidneys. We've managed to stop the bleeding but his condition isn't as stable as we hoped. We're going to have to perform a blood transfusion."

"When will you operate?"

"As soon as the donated blood gets here," the doctor replied.

"So, is England safe?" America asked. He wanted the answers he had been waiting for, to finally feel reassurance.

"If the blood transfusion works then...probably," the doctor just replied. America couldn't hide his relief but he still could not allow himself to relax. False hope wasn't really an option.

"'Probably' isn't good enough doc. What are the risks?"

"We aren't sure of the complete extent of the injuries; there was only enough time to perform a visual examination. There will be a more thorough check later on. There is also the possibility that the blood we'll transfuse won't be compatible with his system, what with your complicated natures of being countries and all. It is the only thing we can really do though because—"

"Yeah, okay, I get it," America interrupted him. "Please just tell me when the transfusion is done."

The doctor nodded and re-entered the ER. America sat back down on his chair beside Sealand. There is hope, he thought trying to ignore the risks the doctor mentioned. Alfred promised not to let himself get too emotional, though, at least until he was sure of England's condition.

***

England was lying down on a field of soft green grass, lazing around and playing with the fairies. What else was he to do all day? Scotland would probably scold him later for being so useless to his kingdom but he would go through that nagging any day. He'd do anything to feel such a satisfying bliss.

The relaxing atmosphere and the soft hum of fairy wings made his eyes want to close. A few minute's nap wouldn't do anyone any harm, right? He fell asleep as soon as his eyelids had close.

"Wake up, Arthur," a small voice called. He felt something trying to shake him awake.

"Wake up!" the voice repeated, growing more urgent. He got up with a start.

"Wha—?"

"The king is dead," the fairy sobbed.

"Huh?" Arthur asked helplessly. He couldn't believe it. His king, dead? Impossible, his king was Arthur Pendragon himself!

"Come on, Arthur," they called, pulling him with their combined strength. The dragged his dazed self over the hill to the other side where a lone, white marble coffin lay.

They brought him up to it and he struggled to see through his tears and at his dead king's face through the coffin's glass lid.

Only, the face he saw was not that of his king but his own. Like waking up from a dream, Arthur's memories resurfaced, the peaceful bliss was lost. The adventure was over and now he was...dead? How else could he explain seeing himself in a coffin? Maybe this was all just a near-death experience or it could even be the afterlife.

"Aren't you going to mourn the king?" a fairy asked, the small voice making him turn around.

"That isn't the king, it's just me," he countered in a dazed voice. As soon as these words left his lips the coffin faded into nothingness. This display confused England even more. "Tell me, have I died?"

"Oh, we don't know. Is that what it will take for us to complete this mission's purpose?"

"No!" England's impulsive reply came. "I mean...," he took a deep breath, trying to compose an appropriate reply. "I think you've completed your purpose, there's no need to go that far."

"Can you give us a reason to believe that?"

"Well...America is treating me with respect."

"And?"

"The other countries actually listened to my orders," Arthur thought aloud, grasping at straws.

"What about you, Arthur?"

England's eyes grew wide in surprise, "What about me?"

Majority of the fairies slapped their foreheads with their palms, "So you're saying you didn't get the whole point of this?"

"I thought the point was to—"

"No, no, no," a fairy yelled out in frustration. "Let me see, how can we get you to understand this?" They all thought together in silence for a while before the fairy leader turned and faced him.

"Arthur Kirkland, tell us: who are you?"

"Well, I'm Arthur Kirkland. I don't understand where this is getting."

"No, we mean other than being Arthur Kirkland, who are you?"

"I'm the embodiment of England, the representing country of the United Kingdom," England replied obediently.

"Very good, so what did you gain from this trip, being England?"

Arthur shrugged, "A trip down memory lane? I don't know. Can you please just tell me whether I'm going to die or not?"

"This would be easier for all of us if you weren't as dense as that America," one of them snapped.

"Well excuse me for not being all-knowing. Can you just get to the point?"

"You have to be the one to figure this out on your own," they complained.

"This is a test of some sort, is it? Can't you give me a clue or a hint? Maybe even a vague subliminal message?"

Loud, simultaneous sighs came from the fairies, "Fine, we'll spoon feed 'the lesson of the day' to you. Was there any time during this adventure when you actually enjoyed being back in the past?"

"Yes."

"All right. Next, did you find yourself thinking that part of your past culture is something completely foreign to you now, even if it's something you wanted to go back to?"

"I guess..."

"Last hint, do you even recognize a hint of similarity between who you were then and who you are now?
"I...no, not really," England admitted. The fairies gave him a few seconds to process this. "Are you trying to tell me that I've forgotten myself?"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" the fairies cheered.

England was now desperately confused. "All right, let me see if I've gotten this right. That trip wasn't just to remind everyone of the glory of England but it was also to remind me of who I really am?"

"That sums it up it one fell swoop."

"What makes you think I've forgotten who I am? I'm sure you don't mean that I have amnesia so..."

"Look at you, England. You're nothing like the sword-wielding, honour-bound, daring knight-slash-pirate-slash-courtier everyone knew you as in your earlier years? What changed you, England? Is it that heartbreak you had to go through?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what we mean. The main reason we brought you here is because you've forgotten what it means to be you, England. You've turned into someone so...different."

"Specifically in what way?"

"For one thing, you're always so mad. For another, you're becoming way too uptight. Lastly, don't think we didn't notice how miserable you always are. So we had to bring you back to the time of Camelot where you'd be forced to see how much you've changed."

"So you had to kill me to accomplish this? I find your means and your goal contradictory."

"Er, well, you know us fairies, right? This is how our magic works: we have to go to the extremes. You know, like how the princess actually had to kiss the toad instead of just saying sorry or how the beast had to die of heartbreak just so we could turn him back to normal. Besides, you aren't dead. Did you think we could actually kill you?"

"Oh, I don't know. I thought this was how your magic worked. Didn't you allow Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother to get eaten by a wolf? So, if I'm not dead I should be waking up now."

"Not quite yet. You have to tell us first, how did this trip help you regain yourself?"

"Why?"

"Because, well, we're sort of required to make sure you got the purpose of this whole thing. Complicated fairy rules," one of them replied, waving a hand as if to dismiss the issue.

England breathed in deeply before replying, "Well, I've gotten a chance to appreciate my culture again and do all the things I've missed. The time I didn't spend worrying about how to get home, I actually enjoyed myself."

He paused before continuing, "I know this really doesn't count but all those times I talked with Alfred helped me get over our differences, at least for a while. Plus, showing everyone how much they can learn from my culture was really quite enjoyable."

Arthur replayed the highlights of the adventure in his head. A lot of those experiences had required him to adapt his behaviour and his ways into something familiar yet somehow foreign to him, always finding everything he needed to know within himself. Had he truly hidden a part of him from himself as well as everyone else? If he didn't go through all of this, would he have continued to forget himself? All these years spent as a stranger to who he had used to be, it would be hard to make up for the lost time.

He looked up at then, meeting most of their gazes, "You were right when you said that I've changed a lot and this adventure has helped me realize how much I miss being who I used to be. This adventure has taught me a lot about myself and, despite all the inconvenience and the injuries, I really appreciated the adventure."

The fairies look quite satisfied. "Just out of curiosity," one of them said. "What are you going to do now that you've rediscovered yourself?"

"Well, I'm going to get to know England for a second time. Maybe I can learn something from him," England murmured wistfully.

"All right then, see you in the real world Arthur," the fairies smiled. "Remember: Britannia is forever."

"I'm not forgetting a second time," he muttered with a smile before his vision blacked out again.