AN; Now I've set the stage (and gone back and added an A/N to the first chapter... oops) lets go! shopping. Lets go shopping.

Family in Darkness- Chapter 2

An Unavoidable Problem

Dawn broke cold and damp over the foreign land- and far earlier than she would have expected it to. It appeared understanding the implications of a heliocentric solar system was one thing, and experiencing the off kilter solar behaviour of the far north first hand was quite another. Especially when your gracious brother hadn't even thought to warn you. Bengal pootled around the kitchen in the pale light, poking her nose into the cold box, as tall as a man and about as wide, at the end of the counter. It didn't contain much more than milk in an odd square bottle and a transparent white box of that aggressively spicy vegetable curry they'd been fed last night. It hadn't been terrible, but it had been a shock, and honestly she hadn't been feeling up to it. There were also a few leftovers from the 'takeaway', which had been nice, if a bit greasy. But although working the wash box had been easy enough, she wasn't going to chance it with a cooker- and cold, greasy onion bhajis did not appeal- at least, not without a hot cup of tea.

She shivered, despite her fluffy robe, the cold was still making game attempt to freeze her toes as she wandered just outside the large glass doors and looked over the lush garden. She yawned but, northern summer or no, she still wouldn't have slept much longer. Even fiddling with the radio hadn't helped, and her dreams had been strange - crawling with creatures she couldn't remember, intercut by strange voices and the strange half dreams that fed through the Connection. Images she couldn't understand and voices she couldn't decipher whipped through her brain, fading to nothing as she woke- aggressively confusing. And the Connection- she gripped her glass of water compulsively, the Connection hadn't settled overnight. It still felt like trying to haul something heavy with the world's thinnest wire, biting into the hands of the mind and getting her nowhere. It set her teeth on edge.

She was interrupted by the clattering of a window high above her head, and she stepped out from under the roofs overhang to have a look. A small figure dangling from the windowsill attempting to reach the pipe that ran down the length of the house. Occasionally he'd swing to grab at it - miss by a hair and then fight to regain his grip. After one particularly desperate readjustment she squeaked in concern. England looked down. Bengal looked up.

They stared at each other for a moment- then England leapt straight out of the first floor window and onto the grass, before bolting across the garden. Bengal raced after him, and even with his impressive turn of speed he couldn't make it even halfway to the wooden fence before being tackled by her. They collapsed in a shower of limbs, and being about as athletic as an asthmatic ox, she was very grateful to have a head of height on the wiry little boy. Otherwise she would have been picking her teeth out of the grass.

"Hey-", she reared back to avoid a ballistic headbut, " - watch it! Quiet down, we're not here to OW!" Yanking her hand away from the sharp little teeth gave him an excellent opportunity to try and punch her lights out, luckily she managed to grab his wrist in time, but the kid just would not stop and listen. Nope, instead, despite her trying to reason, he was just trying to throw her off him. Then he managed to actually slap her- a sharp stinging sensation across her cheeks, and she'd had enough. Grabbing a chunk of hair and scarf, he rocketed forward to headbut her again and-

"AAAAAAHHHHH".She screamed, loud and shrill, straight in his ear. His head would have made an almighty crack against the ground, had they not been fighting on grass- as it was the thump sounded pretty painful. He sat there slightly stunned for a moment and she grabbed his other wrist and pin them both to his chest. Then they sat there breathing heavily.

"Are you ok?" she asked in rusty Latin, keeping her voice perfectly level. the kid was a ball of tension and still looked like he might just lash out.

He gave her a bog-eyed stare with those lamp-like green eyes of his before nodding very carefully.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Are you going to try to run away again?"

This was met by resolute silence. She could feel her shoulders slump; it looked like Dehli hadn't just been being helpful when he'd insisted she stay with him. She bit her lip and wracked her brain for what to say. She'd never been much of a people person, and honestly she'd always found children a hindrance to her research. But she wouldn't just let one run about alone in a strange place in nothing but sleeping clothes and a ridiculously oversized great coat. He didn't even have any shoes for goodness sake!

So she pondered the problem for a minute before saying.

"Is it because we're strangers?" He gave her a scornful look, which, yes she supposed was obvious. "Is there no way we can convince you we don't mean you harm?" His snort said it all. Nonetheless, she couldn't exactly let him up if he was just going to run away again, he was already scanning the area for an escape route. Then a brain wave hit her.

"Is it the connection?" she said, and suddenly those big eyes were back on her. "Yes?" she said and although he didn't nod, there was a definite lack of struggling. "Does it feel- I don't know- stretched out? Distracting? Wrong?" After a moment he nodded.

"Ok, then let's make a deal- I help you find out what's going on with the connection, and you promise not to run away." He's quiet for a moment then nods. "Besides-" she continues, "I happen to be the best mind in all of South Asia- and I think our mutual friend believes your older self knows more about this than he should." She gives him what she hopes is a conspiratorial look and says. "So it would be a bit silly to run away from the place where he lives you know?"

Finally she gets up and brushes herself off, she takes the fact that he doesn't immediately run away as a good sign. "Now, do you want some breakfast?"

He nods and stands up, ignoring her proffered hand, instead opting to pick at his muddy hands and wipe of the grass. Quietly they walked back to the kitchen, and Bengal took the moment to assess him out of the corner of her eye. He still gave his surroundings a once over and he held himself in an almost unnaturally stiff posture. He was an odd kid, but the black smudges under his eyes clearly showed how strongly the weirdness of the connection was affecting him. She almost winced in sympathy. Hopefully they could at least alleviate the problem, she wasn't looking forwards to spending, what? Days? Weeks? Sleep deprived and plagued by those not-quite-nightmares. It'd send her insane.

Of course, having promised him breakfast,she'd now need to produce it. She avoided the cooker completely- she wasn't stupid. But she had at least seen India work the cylindrical water heater, and, after a few false starts she found she could at make edible toast in an oblong box thing. England seemed perfectly happy to munch on the charcoaled ones, and after tearing his way through his first cup of tea she relaxed. The silence became distinctly more comfortable, and England let himself slouch a bit- she refilled his plate with toast when he cleared it, and couldn't help but notice that past his exotic colouring and generic nation prettiness that for all his attitude there was no meat on his wiry frame at all. Although, she thought ruefully, it wasn't as though that adult sized coat was doing him any favours- he looked like a blond, bedraggled cat.

She let him finish his tea before commencing with the interrogation. Or at least, that's what you would have called it if you'd only seen his reaction. As soon as she sat down he stiffened his back and gave her that hard flat look that really wasn't half as threatening as he seemed to think. Regardless, she tried to look friendly- the kid might be difficult, but she didn't get the feeling he'd just go and attack her if he got uncomfortable.

"Now, I know this will sound silly," she said, putting on her best 'I'm a nice friendly adult voice', which got her such a look that she decided to just keep to normal, "-but I don't actually know where I am." England gave her a look which she suspected translated to "?", so she elaborated.

"Obviously I know I'm here in this house in your country, but since I arrived so unexpectedly I'm not really sure where your country is- other than north and..". She could see she was losing him so she grabbed a bit of pencil and a peace of rather thin white paper that had been left lying on the table by India the night before. It had a series of scribbles on the back which she might investigate later, but the other side was clear and that's what she needed. Starting with the whole of their peninsula and Sri Lanka she quickly sketched out east to Indonesia and China, slowly she filled in as many borders of the various kingdoms as she could manage. When she was done she drew an 'X' over her home and a pair of smiley faces for the twins over the rest of the Delhi Sultanate and turned it around for him to look at.

"Here", she said, pointing at the 'X', "is who I am- Bengal, and this is our mutual friend - he calls himself India now but back then he was one half of the Delhi Sultanate, along with his twin who represents the exact same area …' She could see that she was beginning to lose him.

"I used to be called Gangaridai?" England shook his head. She swallowed her pride.

"The twins are also known as Hindustan?" No recognition. "Bharat?" Nope. She wasn't sure whether she should feel smug at England's blank incomprehension, it was rather nice to know the twins weren't at the center of everyone's lives, but it wasn't actually very helpful right now. Still best move on.

"Um, well I'm asking, where on this map are we? Where is your home England?"

England picked up the map for only a second before saying "North, lots of north," and putting it back down again. This was rather unhelpful, as the sun and the weather had told her that much. She opted for a smile.

"I know, you don't get the sun up this early at the equator, I was more asking where in the North are we? Are we Ilkhanate north or Black sea north?" He looked confused. She was rather worried she'd have to go through every avatar until they hit one she knew-which wouldn't help if he was say, a recluse like Bhutan. Then she had a brainwave.

"Do you remember Rome?". That got a response- England stiffened and scowled, but nodded. She could sympathise with that, she'd only ever heard rumors, but there was no empire to date that wasn't a total arsehole.

"Are you more or less north than Rome?"she said.

"More, and west a bit. Er". For a moment he looked torn, and his hand was promptly buried in his lap. The scowly look was back, but it was paired with an expression like he'd got indigestion, and it took her a moment to figure out what the problem was.

"Do you want this?" she said, offering him the pencil. He shot her a suspicious look, partially hidden under his fringe. She just held it there and tried to look reassuring.

"Please", he said. He still plucked it out of her hand and held it like it was going to be taken away. He stooped over the paper and started to draw and just as she was learning, that, huh, that was much farther northwest than I thought- I didn't know people even went that far, and, I wonder if that's where those incredibly pasty Greeks were from? Midway through Englands explanation that his tiny little island managed to contain himself and his two brothers, Nakula walked in- hair sticking up everywhere. He looked for all the world like he'd been dragged out of bed before sunrise, rather than midmorning.

"Look who's finally decided to show up," she shared a conspiratorial look, or rather tried to, with England. "Actually, what time even is it- seems a bit late even for you brother dearest?" She gave him a smile full of teeth- just because he was helping her now didn't mean she had to be nice about it.

"It's half eight?" he said. Then paused as he realized that that meant nothing to her " It's not nearly as late as you think it is - there's a good thirteen hours till sunset here."

She rolled her eyes and flapped her hand at him. "Whatever, could you go and make us some tea?"

Nakula raised his hands in surrender and went over to the blue counter top to root about in one of the cupboards hanging on the walls. Absentmindedly, she watched him potter about the kitchen, boiling the water heater and fiddling with the cooker, and felt herself relax a little. It was nice, seeing him make breakfast again, nostalgic even. Untill India wandered, barefoot, into the garden.

"AAHH- what the f-"

India sighed as they bundled out of the car- Bangladesh had practically ignored him, short of laughing when he'd cut himself walking outside. She'd barked two questions, both sharply technical and then stared out the window. England had said nothing, just watching the two of them with naked suspicion. And clearly something had happened there- they were both covered in grass and mud, and the drainpipe was hanging at a funny angle when he'd stepped outside. But both were staying silent.

He sighed in frustration, and locked the car. How was he supposed to care for them if they wouldn't even talk to him? Maybe it was just second day nerves. For a moment he turned and watched the pair as they approached and retreated from the automatic doors, Bangladesh clearly trying to see how many steps she could take before they activated. He grinned, then his phone buzzed.

hey india! how the old man?

India blinked. Honestly he hadn't expected Australia to be awake yet- considering he must've only touched down in the last half hour.

Fine. He's been a bit rambunctious, but hey we expected that. How are you? Normally your asleep- what time even is it there?

cool cool. I'm not home yet - staying over at Germany's place for a bit before doing the rest of my flight

Its *weird* seeing them so small

He could sympathise, they'd never quite been the same all powerful force to him that they had been to the youngest nations but the novelty was still there.

Yes it is a bit

He waited for a moment. When no new message came through he typed another.

How's your end?

Oh?

I'm fine? Nzs weird but its nbd

trying to communicate when you dont share a language is tough

India smiled

Wish I could say the same- but back in MY day, young nations learned many languages

Why I could speak with everyone from Rome to Canton and never once need an interpreter!

GAAK! Wish I never asked! ;)

He felt himself laugh despite himself - the joys of uncleship? responsible adultship? never got old. He kept looking at his phone for a while- Bangladesh yelled at him and he waved at her to tell her he'd be right there. He'd almost put the phone back in his pocket when it buzzed again.

im sorry

?

I..I should have taken him myself

Its not fair to leave him to you again

India breathed out and fought the urge to fill out his 'unlimited' texts with kisses.

I'll be fine.

….

Really?

Really.

"Oi!"

He jumped. England's tiny face scowled back at him.

"She says to get moving lazy bones" He jerked his thumb back to Bangladesh, who'd already started moving between the isles, basket in her arms. He pouted. England sighed like the whole world was against him- like a child.

"Come on, she'll leave us behind." The slight whine, barely perceptible, left him with the strange urge to giggle.

"Ok, ok- you follow her, and I'll be there in a second, ok?" He gave him a smile, which England did not return.

Still when he walked away, India couldn't help but notice that the kid had voluntarily put himself in arms reach, even if he didn't have to. He smiled and looked back down at his phone before firing off his last message.

He's just a child, you know? It's not the same.

I'll be fine.

India grumbled to himself as he shifted his weight off his cut foot again as Bangl- Bengal gave him a look of contrition as he extracted the shopping list from his coat pocket. Working the breaks on the drive up had not been fun, but standing in front of the shoes in the shop he couldn't help but feel a bit accomplished. Clothes shopping had never been England's forte, and apparently being de-aged did not improve matters. Isles and isles of clothes stretch in every direction. India can not say the same of England's patience.

Shirts

Trousers

Boxers

Socks

Shoes

Jumpers

India scanned the shop for the clothes they needed- hoping they could get through this without any unnecessary drama. Bangladesh stood beside the trolley calmly, and although England was trying to affect a similar nonchalance as he hung onto the side of its wire frame, India could see him hunching over and tensing. He'd seemed excited enough in the car, fidgeting and smiling to himself when he thought India wasn't watching but he'd gradually become more distressed as he'd been presented with more and more things- gravitating closer to the trolly until he was gripping it's wire tightly with one hand. And as England the adult had been so very high strung, and so many things would be new to a medieval mind, India couldn't even say for sure what was upsetting him- it could be almost anything. The lights, sound, overwhelming amount of stuff, automatic doors- any or all of them could be a problem. So despite their success with the shopping, even having managed to grab Bangladesh some spare long-sleeved dresses and leggings to bulk out her luggage, he felt like the shoes should probably their last stop.

Stifling a morsel of worry, he leaned over the side of the cart to give England a winning smile. He tried not to let it droop when England automatically hopped off the trolley bar and leaned back.

"Ok last stop, do you want to go and grab yourself a couple of pairs of shoes? I think you're a size four." England shrugged.

"How about a nice red pair to go with your new shirt, hmm?" he said.

England's grip on the wireframe of the trolley turned his knuckles white, and he shook his head violently. India met Bangladesh's confused look for a moment before turning back to him- he wouldn't have ordinarily pushed it, but England needed at least one pair of shoes that fit. Australia's old pair were almost comically oversized- all the smaller pairs having been worn out by the many successive feet of the Commonwealth near seventy years prior. He gently clicked his tongue while he thought.

"Do you want me to help you choose?" he asked cautiously, tilting his head.

"I'm not a baby!" England shoved the trolley away from himself pretty forcefully, if India hadn't been holding the other side it might have spun into the shelf. India watched him stamp off the furthest end of the shoe rack, where the shoes were clearly too big for him. He sighed, as Bengal chuffed in shock and irritation.

"What's wrong with him, then?" she muttered under her breath, faced scrunched up in frustration. India shrugged, feeling a little helpless, he couldn't think of anything that wouldn't just make the kid angrier. He really didn't want to make a scene.

"No clue, do you have any idea?" He pauses for a moment and then carefully affects the mildest voice he can. "Did… something happen this morning perhaps?"

"Has your Connection..being playing up at all?" Her voice was too light to be anything but affected. He felt his blood run cold, and she looked panicked.

"Not like that! I don't think it's fading- its more like…" She bit her lip and waved her hand a little, "It's more like it's tense- pulled taught." She frowned. "Sorry that's the best I can do - but I know he's having that too, that's why he tried to run away this morning." She looked back at England, India frowned, clicking his tongue and turned to watch England, who was still stamping around- but at least he was in the right section..

"Bangladesh? Is it like that time you went to China?" he said. Her eyes went sharp

"My name's Bengal. But yes- it's much much stronger- but I suppose that makes sense" India breathed a sigh of relief. Bangladesh was still frowning. "He might not be sleeping well- I know I'm not."

India hummed an ascent, the knot in his chest loosened a little- it probably wasn't going to be an immediate risk, but he couldn't help but worry even as he continued to watch England. Back rigid, he picked up a pair of shoes, put them back, picked up another, put them back- each time getting clearly more and more frustrated, slamming them back on the rack, which knocked over more shoes, which then had to be picked up and shoved back - knocking more astray. India watched for a moment, biting the inside of his lip, chest tight with nerves. He didn't want to swoop in, railroad him into just taking something- but he didn't want the scene that would almost certainly result from leaving him to wind himself up either.

Bang- Bengal bit her lip.

"Should.. we do something?" Bengal murmured, voice low and halting. India tried to surreptitiously take a deep breath- given the pinched look that she sent him, he didn't succeed.

"Give him time." She nodded haltingly. Another pair of shoes went tumbling to the floor and England made a small scream of frustration low in the back of his throat.

"On second thought, I best go and calm him down".

He walked over, and carefully relaxed all his muscles- going in angry would be like throwing water on an oil fire.

"Hey", he said in French- best avoid any miscommunication, "are you alright? Those are really nice, but your size is a little way-"

"Shut up!" India blinked down at the child glaring into the shoes.

"Sorry?"

"I said SHUT UP!" The boy was glaring at him now, breathing heavily, face distorted by rage. "You're a LIAR! You're trying to trick me!"

India could feel people turn to stare at them. "Excuse me, ….

"I don't care! You're lying to me! Do you think I'm stupid? It's not FAIR!" India felt his blood run cold England let out a wordles shriek.

Shitshitshit- every part of him seized up involantarily, blood roared in his ears and it was all he could do to avoid flinching. He could feel everyone's eyes on them, prickling on his neck- he could feel the prickle of his brownness too. He felt horribly short of breath, and he could feel the beginnings of a sweat. They're all looking at me- He took a deep breath. Marshalling his voice into the calmest tone he could manage he said.

"Be nice- stop shou-"

"NO! GO AWAY!"

A sharp flush rose up his cheeks, and he tried to keep his voice level. He failed.

"Stop it Arthur- we are trying to help you-"

"Liar" the boys face barely changed but his voice sounded weaker, almost wobbly. "What do you really want?"

India's heart clenched, spotting the telltale flush and crumple that signaled tears in England's face. He'd always hated seeing children cry- and this one, well, was never going to be an exception if he was honest with himself. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he automatically placed his hand on England's shoulder.

"GET OFF ME!" India realled back as England leapt at him- swinging his fists with shocking accuracy, hitting him about the head. He was knocked flat to the ground before Bengal managed to grab him. England squirmed in her hold like a mad thing and kept shouting. Swinging his head round in a panic, he was relieved to see a changing room nearby. Quiet. Secluded. A good place to deal with a small boy who was spinning out of control.

Bengal stared at him in betrayal as he walked away to get the nearest shop assistant.

"I'll be back in a moment!" He said in Old Bengali. He then turned to the shop assistant and said in perfect, affected Oxford English,

"I'm terribly sorry, my nephews not feeling very well- could we use one of your changing rooms?" He felt his breath stop in his chest as she blinked at him in surprise and then looked at England. He almost slumped in relief when she nodded and smiled.

"As long as it's just you and him, you can use the changing room just here-" she pointed to one just inside the door. "Your wife can wait here with me-"

"Thankyou so much!" She blinked at him, and he turned to wave at Bengal. "Sorry, my sister and I, we've only been taking care of him for a little while- I think he's just finding everything a bit much." He knew, logically, he didn't need to explain this- that she had no right to judge- but the words rushed out of him regardless. Something clicked in her eyes, and he saw her shoulders relax.

"It's ok, my brother has something similar- I could give you the times for the shops quiet hour if you like?" He- wasn't entirely sure what that was, if he was honest, he nodded anyway and she handed him a small leaflet from the desk she was at. He smiled and pocketed it. Then he turned back to his charges, who….were not getting any nearer the changing rooms. He let out a small sigh and shot a final grateful look over to the shop assistant before saying.

"I best go over and help before they bring the store down around our ears"

This was easier said than done, all nations were strong and tough, but England seemed to be one part nation to four parts angry wildcat. Bengal was barely hanging on as he tried to duck and squirm away. Barely hanging onto England's hands she yelled at him.

"Where were you? Get over here!"

He sighed, assessed his options and grit his teeth before looping one arm around the boys chest and another around his legs and hoisting him into the air- fully expecting him to freeze when he did so.

"I've been getting us a place he can- WOA-"

England did not freeze. Heedless of the risk of falling he shrieked in anger and kicked out, writhing in such a way that India had to put his legs down to stop him from falling. Keeping his arm wrapped around his chest he caught his head when it came flying back in a headbutt. For a moment India thought they had him.

"You see the hall past the woman in the uniform? There's a room in there we can go to to caaaa-"

All at once England flopped bonelessly, a wrist slipping out of Bengals grip, and his head freed so India could grab both armpits. Luckily India had always been a good wrestler, and got his other arm around his chest before he could slip away completely. He winced as England managed to slap him when he inevitably sprang back to attack- but it didn't take long for Bengal to grab his other wrist in a firm grip. Nodding to each other, India and Bengal then frog marched the kid to the changing room. The attendent flicked them a sympathetic smile as they plonked England down on the seat inside.

"Stay there" India said, before turning back to Bengal. "I'll manage it from here- it's me only so.."

She nodded, looking uncomfortable. "Just make sure he's ok?"

He smiled at her and nodded before heading back into the changing room.

To his surprise England was sitting where he'd been put- but his whole body was tense. Shoulders up around his ears, he scowled fiercely. He could feel anger and frustration bubbling up under his gut, but he took a deep breath and relaxed his facial muscles from tense to carefully neutral. No point throwing petrol on this particular fire.

"England." He said.

The boy peaked up from under his hair and said nothing.

"I'm not going to pretend I'm not upset-" England didn't react. "-but I want to understand why you did that."

Silence. India can't help but sigh as a wave of fresh irritation rolls through him.

"What are we going to do with you" he mutters to himself.

"Why are you keeping me here?"

India blinks. The boy is staring up at him- anger and resolve etched all over his face. India stares back and tries to think of an answer that won't just send this whole situation down the toilet. He has to settle.

"I'm sorry?" He says, and England scowls.

"Why did you bring me here? Why don't you just give me back already- I can't give you anything you want" England's voice is sharp and staccato, and his body language is full of presumption. Again the only thing he can say in response feels weak and inadequate.

"We didn't bring you here" He says, and England snorts at him again. India scowls back at him. "And this is your home- your nation, you can't hide that from yourself"

"Don't LIE to me- your friend lied to me." India blinks.

"What." England's smirks triumphantly.

"She said that the house was mine and that my old self made it happen and that we were in my country and that you were going to help…." He trailed off. India could feel that his incredulity was written all over his face, England, even unmoored from time should be able to feel the reality of Bengals statement. But then again, he thought as England seemed to curl up in on himself again, Bengal herself didn't recognise the feeling at first. For a moment the two nations sat in silence, but India felt like he had to check something.

"England, where do you think we are?" He said, a morbid feeling of curiosity creeping over him.

"Oh probably Mongolia or somewhere, it's too wet and North to be Acre or anywhere like that and you're a Musselman or something and Mongolia has a lot of them" His face was shockingly calm as he said this. India, however, had short circuited.

"I'm not Muslim" he said, unhelpfully. Mostly, sort of - he tamped down on the existential crisis that always arrose when he thought about religion too much, and tried to come up with something to explain the situation in an approachable way. He failed.

"It's 2017, England- we're in London"

The boy rolled his eyes, but before he could open his mouth, India interrupted.

"England, feel your Connection?"The boy scowled. But he plowed on, "It feels stretched because your far away in time, not space." The boys face scrunched up. And India felt he had to ask, "England, have you ever heard of time travel before?"

"Wo', like in those fairy stories?" There was something belligerent in his tone now, and his body was slumped in defeat. India tried for a smile, he didn't know how those stories ended, but it seemed they weren't good.

"But this," he said, swirling at England, "can be fixed. If you let us help you."

"Fine." England's voice sounded flat and tired, but his back had snapped back into that unnaturally stiff posture he'd had before- it made India feel tired just looking at him. England stared straight ahead.

"What do we do now?" Not engaging, but not fighting either- India could tell from experience he'd just have to take what he could get.

"We're going to go and pay for your new clothes at the till, and then we'll go get some lunch." He kept his tone deliberately light, but something in England's posture - didn't collapse exactly, the child clearly had all the posture of the adult him, but it did crinkle.

"Arthur," he said, and the boys eyes snapped to give him a hostile stare, "We could stay here a bit longer if you like?" Had dealing with England always been this exhausting?

"I'm fine" England growled, and stormed out past the curtain.

India sighed, seized by a plague of memory, and followed.

The car was stuffy, all the plastic bags having been shoved in the back seat with England. He had ignored them all when he'd come out of the shop, just shrugging before climbing in the back of the no longer pristine Rolls Royce. India recognised that it wasn't England's usual arrogance- in fact he was more cringing away, as much as his pride would allow. There was no trouble on the way back, both of his charges remained perfectly mannered as Tommy Sandhu nattered over the bridge to the next song. But he couldn't relax- England was unnaturally still, not even twitching his legs as he stared out the window. And whilst Bengal seemed oblivious as she patted her legs gently to the rhythm, India could feel the tension building.

He wasn't going to let it fester.

"England, can I talk to you for a moment, please" Both England and Bengal paused as they opened the doors to get out onto the driveway. "Don't worry you're not in trouble- Sis, if you could put the kettle on for us?" He kept his voice light, and his face clear of worry.

Begal nodded and went inside. England perched on the front seat next to India.

"What's wrong?" England's back had relaxed a little on the drive, but it was ramrod straight now. His only concession to nerves was to fiddle with the little air freshener tied to the cooling vents.

"I was going to ask you that, you seem nervous."

"I already said sorry." It came out harsh and abrasive but again there was that crinkle. Around the eyes mostly. India had had to learn to read pain, sadness, fear and all manner of suppressed negativity in those subtle body changes. It was disturbing to see them in miniature.

But this England was not the adult he'd become, and India made a mental effort to cleave the two apart as he had for his sister. Arthur- his name was another thing that man had never been willing to change- had stopped playing with the air freshener, his hands instead neatly folded on his lap. India opened his mouth, paused and started again.

"I'm sorry Arthur, I didn't mean to say you'd done something wrong. In fact," he said, a sudden bolt of inspiration hitting him, "I'll never punish you without telling you exactly what you're doing wrong first."

Eng-Arthur stared at him in shock. A reflexive burst of pity stung within his stomach before being sharply suppressed. For all their differences he suspected Arthur wouldn't appreciate it anymore than adult England. He continued

"You just seem a bit upset is all?"

Immediately, Arthur's face shut down all emotion- he averted his gaze and became, if anything, even stiffer on the seat.

"It's nothing"

Gently as possible, India replied.

"Arthur, I can't help if I don't know."

After that silence reigned. It grew thicker and heavier, but India knew better than to break it. Soon enough, his patience was rewarded.

"It's nothin'- it doesn't matter" Englands French had taken on that slur it'd had earlier, when he'd been fighting tooth and nail over a pair of shoes. India waited.

"It's just the shop it's - it's" He waved his hands, clearly frustrated, giving India a look like he should just know. "It's just loud,"he finished in a whisper. India waited a moment more, but England had started playing with the air freshener again, emotional bandwidth clearly maxed out from even that declaration.

"Thank you for telling me." He meant it too, part of him had been gearing for another fight, "next time we'll go during the quiet hour ok?" England was deliberately not looking at him, but his frame had relaxed a little, his shoulder rounding into a more natural posture. Without really saying anything, India felt as if a deal had been struck. He smiled.

"Want to come in and get a cup of tea?"

England looked him in the eye and nodded.

A/N: So a note on characterisation. Banglandesh IRL is made up of aound half of the kingdom traditionally called Bengal, a kingdom that was very powerfull in it's own right and whose people maintained a distinct sense of identity throughout history. Bengal has been home to many respected political, philisophical, and literary greats- and has had several literary and artistic reniesances- soI've ortrayed her here has quiteinterlectual and much less of a fighter. England at the time is war, war, war and more war - so is the reverse :)

I hope them reacting to all the little modern things around them doesn't bother you guys, I just love imagining their faces :') Also I hope this scene was interesting- normally these kinds of stories kind of go in similar ways, so I wanted to take it in a slightly different direction.