A/N: Ah, it's been a while (or just a week, but who cares). Now, I have an announcement: this story is ending in either two or three chapters (including this one). In about four months, it would mark the 1-year anniversary of the start of the story, but there's no need to stretch it out until it covers a year. Oh, and the final chapters may come out earlier than normal. This may be a way of rushing the ending of the story, but really, I'll just get ideas for the ending and want to write it all up.

Once this story is completed, I will be working on two new ones: one is a crossover between Free!, Kuroko no Basuke and Haikyuu, and somehow magic and stuff gets involved (I'll say no more!); and the other's a Hetalia one featuring both a War AU and a Human AU. Of course, it may be a while until I publish either of these, considering the first one is going to be published along with the first three chapters and the second one is…questionable, but keep an eye out for them!

Okay, I'm rambling too much, so I'll be quiet and let you read this chapter! Enjoy~

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

It was almost early morning when Wales properly woke up. Ireland and England couldn't be more relieved as they watched his eyes slowly appear from under his lids. His fever had spiked a couple of hours ago, and as a result he had been delirious as hell. If England hadn't put a hand over his mouth, he would have finished uttering a spell which would have made the room go up in flames (of course, Wales had no idea what was going on at the time).

Luckily, after that incident, his temperature began to return to normal. Unfortunately, the stress caused by the sudden spike had caused him to throw up again – but it was more a case of dry heaving, as the contents of his stomach had already left him.

When the world came into focus, Wales noted the tired yet relieved smiles of Ireland and England s they gazed at him. His throat felt sore and his body ached, and he vaguely remembered seeing his supposedly dead brothers freeing him from the hideout, only to suddenly appear in a room where one of them was completely unharmed right in front of him. He couldn't remember anything after that, though.

He tried to say something, but any attempt at words only came out as a broken groan. Next thing he knew, he was being gently lifted into a sitting position and a glass of soothing cold water was being slowly poured into his mouth. It helped his throat and eased the pain in his stomach slightly, which he was glad for because he felt the urge to curl up into the fetal position and yet found he couldn't – probably due to the lack of energy in his exhausted body.

Sighing, he attempted to clear his throat and ended up entering a short coughing fit.

"Shh, deep breaths, yeah?" Ireland rubbed his back as he ceased his coughing.

"Ughhh…" He moaned and used what little energy he had left to wrench himself away from what was actually England's grip that helped keep him in a sitting position, only to curl up, arms wrapped firmly around his stomach as the pain suddenly increased.

"Shh, shh…it's alright." The Irishman cooed as he made the mistake of running a hand through Wales' hair. The action was meant to be comforting, but instead made him utter a high-pitched whine of discomfort and pain and curl further in on himself, almost fully submerged under the covers at this point.

"I have to go get ready for the meeting, Ireland." England stated quietly, although the reluctance to do so was clear in his voice.

"I know. And don't worry; I can handle this. Besides, I'm sure you'll drop in as much as you can." Then an idea popped into his head. "Oh, can you check on Scotland and Australia? I haven't heard back from anyone about what happened, and I don't know whether that's a good or a bad thing."

England nodded. "Okay. See you soon." He lowered his voice even more to add, "Get well soon, Wales." With that, he left the room, almost silently shutting the door behind him.

Sighing, the Brit began walking to Scotland's room, presuming that the two people he had to check on were still in there. However, when he did in fact enter the room, he found the situation entirely different from what he'd originally predicted it to be.

Australia was tucked into Scotland's bed, with New Zealand fussing over him, paying especial attention to the scar on his nose, which had strangely reopened. America, Canada and France were nowhere to be seen, but Scotland still remained there, sat on a chair and gently rubbing his chest.

"England-san!" Japan exclaimed in surprise as England walked in, which also startled the latter. How long had he been standing there?!

"J-Japan! Sorry, I didn't notice you there!" He cried, before sighing as he saw how Australia's face was creased in discomfort and he seemed to be in pain. "This was supposed to be a normal day," he murmured, mostly to himself, "so how come three people have suffered today?"

"Because the cruel strings of fate are in motion." Japan answered calmly. "With so many nations gathered here, it was almost inevitable for something bad to occur on a day which is supposed to be good. We all have our karma. We all have our bad luck. And we all have our share of having fate hold a grudge against us which is strong, in fact, that it can cause a chain reaction of unfortunate events to happen."

England hummed in agreement. "If Scotland hadn't have told his story, then his scar wouldn't have reopened. If his scar hadn't reopened, then Wales wouldn't have re-experienced his memory. If Wales hadn't re-experienced his memory, then Scotland wouldn't've locked Australia in the closet and caused him to be suffering right now. Chain reactions which are triggered by fate simply are the worst."

"I agree. But I think the worst of it is over. Scotland-san seems a lot better. I think Wales-san is on the road to recovery, and the worst of Australia-san's memory seems to be over. At one point, Australia-san suddenly lashed out, and ended up kicking Scotland-san…um…what do you prefer to call it? 'The place where the sun doesn't shine' or something?"

England failed to stifle a snort. "Oh. I get what you mean. And…I don't suppose he's sulking now because of it? Although I daresay that he deserved it, considering that he is partially – no, mostly - to blame for Australia's suffering." Scotland growled from his chair, but made no further comment.

Japan nodded. "Although I do not wish illness or suffering upon someone, I do agree with the fact that Scotland-san deserved it for locking Australia-san in the closet."

"Oh, and Japan?"

"Yes?"

"You can drop the honorifics, you know."

"Wh-what?"

England smiled softly. "I understand that using honorifics when addressing someone is part of your culture, but you've known us for a while now. When you add '-san' after our names, it makes us think that you may feel that you are not close enough to us yet. Let me tell you this; you're one of my closest friends. I'm sure it's the same with the others. Trust me on this, and don't add '-san' after our names, as if we deserve your respect."

"But England-"

"We've all done things that we're not proud of. Some more than others. Some of our sins are so bad that we later hate ourselves for it. We nations have lived longer than an ordinary human, meaning that we have more time to commit more sins. We nations are not deserving of respect; trust me on that."

"I…didn't realise you thought like that. I thought that if you atone for your sins, then you can be forgiven and the deep wounds will heal over time."

"Yes, but those wounds often form scars."

"Hmm…I suppose you're right. Very well; I will drop the honorific if it makes you feel better."

"It's not a matter of me feeling better; it's a matter of giving us what we deserve."

"If you two have quite done your little meaningful chit-chat," Scotland butted in, catching their attention, "I would prefer it if you two actually prepared for the upcoming meeting. I don't exactly want to endure the wrath of a certain organisation-crazy Germany-"

"Germany-sa- Germany isn't an 'organisation-crazy' person at all!" Japan objected. "He just prefers everything to be orderly."

Scotland shrugged. "I don't think he likes me."

Japan cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I uh…I tried to get him drunk one time, and when he figured out what I was up to…well, let me just say he wasn't very happy about it."

"I'm actually surprised you're still alive right now." England muttered.

"Yeah…it wasn't pretty. I was only curious about what mood he's in when he's drunk, considering the fact that's he usually so neat and orderly. If he was emotional when he's intoxicated, then I figured I would be able to get some great blackmail material."

"You know, you remind me of Prussia at times." The Brit stated. "Oh, and Germany has a high alcohol tolerance."

"As do I."

"You'd be flat out drunk before he started to get slightly woozy."

"Doubtful." Scotland scoffed. "I really want a drinking contest with him now."

"Now who's wasting time?" England smirked. "Anyway, we better prepare. I haven't even written down anything to discuss! My God, I'm so unprepared!" With that, he turned and headed towards the door, but paused. "Oh, and I don't think Australia's as bad as Wales. He should be fine within a few days or so. …It was a memory, wasn't it?"

New Zealand gazed at him silently before nodding. "How's Wales?"

"…Recovering, I suppose." England replied. "It's as if he's dealing with a migraine, to be honest. But his condition's improving, which is good."

Scotland sighed with relief. "Thank God. I was so worried about him." He locked eyes with the Brit, and England believed what he'd said as he saw just how relieved the Scot was at hearing that his second youngest brother would be okay.

No, not just that.

That they'd all be okay.

~Day of the World Meeting~

It was pleasantly warm in Ankara, which made a nice change from the chilly United Kingdom. The nations who were at Scotland's house were…mostly prepared, but were still lacking in a few areas. They hoped that they wouldn't be singled out to have a speech or something about the topics that they hadn't fully revised.

Australia was still resting, deeply shaken by the memory, and so stayed with the other three brothers. New Zealand had to represent both him and his neighbour, but he didn't want Australia to come lest he overexert himself, considering he was mentally, emotionally and slightly physically weakened by the whole ordeal. This was the point the Kiwi had raised in an argument he'd had with Australia as he said that he needed (not wanted) to go. Of course, the latter had no chance in winning the argument, and thus was stuck at Scotland's house while the others went to (suffer) the world meeting.

England, unsurprisingly, seemed reluctant to go. They doubted that he could walk any slower, and they were pretty sure that he'd run out of excuses which were actually him stalling for time. As if going any later would make any difference. It would still be chaotic, late or not.

"Ah, we're here!" Canada exclaimed as the group of nations stood before the building where the meeting would be held. "I hope we're not late…" He quickly opened the double doors and walked in, glad to feel subtle air conditioning breeze across his skin. This relief was reflected in the others, as they knew that the meeting rooms were often warm from the body heat and the utter chaos that was somehow contained there.

The Brit swallowed nervously as he followed the Canadian to the main room, where a sign was posted on the door reading 'Room closed for world conference. No unauthorised personnel'.

Sighing, he frowned when he realised that no-one was going in. Not only that, but they were all looking at him. "What?" He asked, confusion written on his face.

"Dude, I- we think that you should be the one to open the door." America replied, an excited gleam in his eyes. The crowd parted to form an open space between England and the door, with the rest of the world behind it.

"I…I don't think-" England began, but was cut off by France.

"You don't think you can do it? The task itself is fairly simple; what awaits, however, is not so simple." The Frenchman locked eyes with him. "Most people fear the unknown. Most people fear the unpredictable. And you're one of them."

"Yes, but-"

"But you're not alone, are you?"

"Well, no-"

"Oh, and I don't mean literally."

"…What?" England was confused. If he doesn't mean literally, then what else could he possibly mean?

"Do you feel alone?"

"…"

"Angleterre?"

"…Sometimes."

"Hmm…how did it go? In a crowded place, trying not to feel alone~"

England raised an eyebrow at this. "Quoting from songs, are we?"

"Which song is it?" America asked. It sounded familiar, but he just couldn't place it…

"Broken Ones by Jacquie Lee." Canada responded calmly, and America clicked his fingers.

"That's it! Seriously, that song is so great!"

France chuckled. "So Angleterre, is that how you feel?"

England knew what he was getting at. 'In a crowded place, trying not to feel alone'…is that how I feel? Well…I suppose I used to…but recently, not so much- wait, did I actually just think that? I…don't feel so lonely anymore?

"I…I don't feel so lonely anymore…" He murmured aloud by accident, but it was too late to take it back.

France smiled softly. "No, I don't suppose you do. Especially not after almost always having someone next to you these last couple of days."

"Uh…yeah, but what has this got to do with anything?"

The Frenchman stepped closer and laid a hand on the Brit's shoulder. "Because when you open the door, don't be overwhelmed. Don't be afraid. Don't feel alone. Because you have us to keep you safe."

"Please don't start getting all sentimental on me."

"I won't. But go ahead. Open the doors, and meet your fate, whatever that may be."

England took a deep breath and glanced around him, noting that they all wore encouraging smiles. Nodding, he walked forward and placed both hands on the doors, before pushing them open.

And that was when it happened.

A/N: And of course, there's a cliffhanger. You should know by now that I like to irritate you all by using cliffhangers.

Oh, and as I've just finished this chapter, I've decided that the next chapter will be the last *le gasp*. I'll say all the emotional bye-byes and thank-yous and the end of that chapter. It's kind of tradition for me to do that now (is tradition even the right word?).

Well, I'll see ya next chapter!