And here I am, in all my mediocre glory. Sorry about taking a while with this one, but hey, good news is that midterms are done. Yay! I should have more time to write now. So rejoice, happy times are here again.

But yeah, the chapters. They are getting increasingly difficult to write seeing as the plot is in full development stage. This hopefully won't slow me down too much, but just know that if it seems like updates are taking a while, it's 'cause I'm sitting here thinking "And how exactly is this going to be explained." Because believe me, I'm starting to realize that this project isn't as simple as I originally thought it was.

As always, all your reviews and love are amazing. I'm so happy that you people are still liking this story. I truly hope that it continues to please.

On a side note, I'm kind of running out of chapter name ideas, so if the titles start to sound a bit weird, sorry about that. (There's a naming scheme, if you haven't noticed.)

And here I am, still owning nothing.

Ok, off you go. Read to your heart's content (or until the end of the chapter, either works).

Enjoy.

"What the hell, Mattie? Why would you bring HIM into this?"

"It wasn't my decision, eh. You know I couldn't do anything about it."

"That's because you're still his god damn colony."

"Al…"

"But I'm right! You know England's been looking for a reason to go at me ever since the Revol–"

"Al! Stop it. This isn't about YOU or England or independence. It's just a stupid war that WE have to fight, got it?"

"Yeah, well I don't want to fight anymore, Mattie."

"I know, Al. I don't want to fight either…"

"Then let's just declare peace and forget this stupid mess. We don't have to keep fighting. I'll help you rebuild York and Elizabethtown and Niagara–"

"You know that won't work."

"What do you mean? Of course it will. I'm the hero after all."

"You of all people should know that wars don't just end like that."

"Jeez Mattie, what's up with you? Do you not WANT this war to end?"

"Eh? Of course I do. But…"

"But what?"

"You got to understand, there's nothing I can do anymore. England won't let me. He wants to attack you, Al, and I can't stop him."

xxx

America blinked. Make me forget Matthew? What is England talking about? He looked at the British man warily, realizing that there was much more going on than he'd originally thought. "Explain," he finally demanded aggressively, hoping England wouldn't try to evade the question like before.

There was a prolonged moment of silence. At long last England took a deep breath and spoke. "Alfred, this is the last time I'm going to warn you; you're not going to like this answer. Believe me when I tell you that this is something you do not want to remember."

America frowned. He was tired of hearing the same old excuses. "I don't care," he said resolutely. "I want to know what the hell is going on."

England closed his eyes. "Lad, there's a reason I made you forget…"

"Just get to the point already."

England's eyes snapped open. "Fine," he said loudly, conceding to America's demands. "But I did try and warn you."

America let out a harsh laugh. "Yeah, yeah, so you keep saying. But dude, whatever you've been trying to hide can't be any worse than what you've already told me."

"Oh, you're going to be in for a surprise," England said bitterly, but then his expression softened. "Look, Alfred, just before I get any further, I want you to understand that none of what happened back then was your fault."

America blinked at England's words. "Ok, whatever, not my fault, I get it. Now hurry up and start explaining stuff."

"I am explaining it. You just have to calm down and let m-"

"You're explaining nothing." America cut in irately. "All I've been told so far is that I shouldn't be able to see Mattie 'cause he died in some war that I don't remember and that you tried to make me forget about it. What the hell is that supposed to explain?"

"America, just settle down and I'll tell you w-"

"What did I ever do wrong, huh? Why can't anyone give me a straight answer?" America crossed his arms in front of his chest. "First my brother is not supposed to exist, and now he's supposed to be dead. This isn't making any sense."

"I'm trying to explain it! Just calm-"

"Like seriously, dude, how is it possible to make me forget something like a war? Did you use your special magic or something?" America leaned forward, uncrossing his arms and placing his clenched fists on the kitchen table.

"Alfred, calm down. You're getting too worked up about this!" England leaned back in his chair, putting some distance between him and the riled American.

"I just want answers!" he gritted out in response. "Like why the hell would you try and make me forget that? Forget Matthew? What gave you permission to do something like that, huh?"

"It was for your own bloody good!" England insisted.

"How is forgetting my own brother good?"

"I did what I had to do!"

America leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up in irritation. "Why, Arthur? Why the hell would you have to try and make me forget Matthew?"

England barely hesitated before answering, thoughts too caught up in arguing to think about softening the blow. "Because you're the one that killed him!"