Welcome back! I have had so much fun writing this and I am so happy you guys are reading it and enjoying it! Thank you all for stopping in to my little story. I really appreciate it 3 Without further ado, chapter three!

Chapter Three: A Discussion

Arthur turned back around to find that England was looking at the two of them. He jerked his head towards the door and went out with Arthur close behind.

It was a humid night on the seas with winds breezing over the deck of the ship, but the waters were calm. The deck was almost clear of men and Arthur found England leaning over the railing, looking out at the open waters and up at the incredibly starry sky.

It's been a while since I've seen a night sky like this Arthur thought to himself. With light pollution these days, I almost forget there are this many stars.

"I never wanted him to see me like that," England said, breaking Arthur from his reverie and drawing him to lean on the railing as well. "I know he's older and his own country now - in your time. But I never wanted him to see me like that." He laughed a joyless laugh. "But I suppose you understand that better than anyone."

Arthur sighed. "I do, believe me," he responded, his thoughts consumed with boys in blue coats. He had never wanted Alfred to see him that way and yet he had shown that part of himself to the boy time and again. First in the American Revolution when he had been trying desperately to keep Alfred with him. Then, and more severely, in the War of 1812 when in a moment of rage and passion he had lit the boy's capital on fire. Well, he didn't light it himself, but he definitely didn't stop them either. He didn't know at the time that Alfred was nearby, and the resulting scream still haunted Arthur's nightmares. Reports from soldiers said that he was clawing at his chest over his heart and screaming as he was escorted out of the capital by American soldiers. At the time, Arthur had rationalized it by saying it was for his own good. That once all of this was said and done and Alfred was home again Arthur would make it up to him. But Alfred never came home. And Arthur couldn't blame him. He had had his capital burn before, he knew what that felt like, and he had done it to his boy anyway.

"You understand why I didn't believe you?" England asked, looking at Arthur from the corner of his eye.

"Of course, I do," Arthur said. "I wouldn't have believed myself either."

England turned around so that his back was leaning against the ship's railing and he looked towards the door of the Captain's Quarters. For a few minutes, the two men stood in absolute silence, one looking out at the ocean and the other looking at the door to where Alfred was sleeping.

England was the first one to break the silence. "Are things very different? In the future."

Arthur took a deep breath and continued to gaze into the inky blackness of the sky and water. Everything is different he thought. The empire is gone. You and Alfred have only just begun to speak again within the last eighty years after he fought a WAR to get away from you. At one point, you'll take Matthew from Francis, and what a rift that causes. I'm not sure Francis or Matthew ever really forgave me for that. Would Francis have helped Alfred in his revolution if I hadn't taken Canada? What would I have done if Francis had taken Alfred from me? Well, too late for any thoughts like that. Everything is alright, I suppose, with all three of them now. Yes, things are very different. More so than you could imagine. And it is all your fault. "Somewhat," he answered aloud, never turning his eyes from the sea.

"He's still so young," England said, thinking about the young man sleeping in his quarters who he had just discovered to be Alfred all grown up.

"He is," Arthur answered, gripping the railing as tightly as he could. "He really is. But he's quite impressive actually. As a nation, he's a global superpower. He wants to help everyone, even when they don't want his help. He is very successful. And as a person, he's loud and obnoxious, but he's kind and he means well." Arthur normally wouldn't talk to anyone about Alfred like this, but no one else was around and he was, quite literally, talking to himself so he didn't mind. His past self would understand, and he wouldn't even know all the messy details that might make it harder to comprehend. "I think sometimes he throws up this loud hero persona to stop people from worrying about him. And maybe that works on France or Russia or whoever else, but I don't think it works on Canada, and it definitely doesn't work on me. I raised the boy, I can read him like a book."

England was silent for a moment. "He has a lot on him then?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, he does."

The two men stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes more, each wrapped in his own thoughts. England, again, was the one to break the silence. "How do you plan on getting back?" he asked.

Arthur sighed, took one more long look at the beautiful open sea he missed so much and turned around so that he too was facing the Captain's Quarters and leaning against the railing behind him. "I have no idea. Getting here in the first place was an accident."

England took a deep breath. "I suppose when we dock you can come home with me. This may confuse Alfred - my Alfred - but he's a bright lad. He'll understand eventually. When I dock, I'll have to spend a day in town talking to officials and settling affairs, but the second day I should be able to make it. I can, of course, help you get lodging for the night. I'd rather you didn't go on ahead. I think I need to explain this to Alfred myself."

Arthur nodded. "Of course."

"After that, you're free to stay at the house. I'll send the staff away, I usually do anyway when I get back so I can just spend time with Alfred," England explained and it struck Arthur as funny that it was being explained to him because he remembered that quite clearly. "We'll work on a way to get you home. You and I can study magic, and if he," England said with a jerk of his head towards the cabin door, "doesn't mind, he can watch Alfred."

Arthur nodded. "Alright. Thank you."

England grunted in response.

"How far out are we?" Arthur asked, glancing around the deck of the ship.

"About two days from Charles Town," England answered.

Arthur turned back around to gaze out over the waters and tried, despite knowing better, to see the landmass out in the distance.

Alfred woke with a start, golden sunlight streamed in through a window over his head. He wasn't wearing his glasses and could barely make anything out. For a moment, he didn't know where he was. Then it all came rushing back to him like water let loose from a dam. Alfred was mortified, and he was blushing so hard that he could feel the heat radiating from his face.

I can't believe I actually said all of that shit in front of ENGLAND of all people he thought, covering his face with his hands. God, he's never going to let me forget this.

The door opened and Alfred threw his hands away from his slowly cooling face and squinted, trying to make out whoever had just entered. "Who's there?" he asked, throwing his feet down to the floor and wincing due to the gash still in his side.

"Be careful," a British voice said, walking over and handing him his glasses. Paired with the voice and the shape that cleared as he got closer, Alfred was positive this was Arthur. But he didn't know which. When he put them on he found himself looking at England in his draping red coat and hat.

"England?" Alfred asked tentatively. "Like past England? Great Britain? Captain?" he added on, rushed.

England laughed awkwardly. "You don't have to call me captain." He sat down on the bed next to Alfred with such a comfortable air about him that any questions Alfred had had about which England this was vanished. Arthur wouldn't be this normal with him. "I truly am sorry about last night, Alfred," he said and it struck Alfred as odd how many times he had heard England say "Alfred" in the past two days. He had to remind himself that for this England, it was normal to say "Alfred" instead of "America". "I never should have behaved that way, and I truly never wanted you to see me behave that way."

"Uh, that's okay, dude," he said, wincing as he reached over to touch his side. This past England really had no idea what was going to go down in a little less than one hundred years.

"How is it?" England asked, glancing around to watch as Alfred pulled the bandage back a bit.

The wound was red and angry but there appeared to be no other signs of damage. "Well, I'm worried it's going to get infected, but other than that, it's fine. He was right, it's not that deep. It just bled really bad."

England nodded, watching closely as Alfred bandaged it back up. "Well, just so you know, your Arthur and I talked about it, and he told me you have absolutely no sailing experience, is that right?"

Alfred bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something along the lines of 'You both discussed that without me, huh? Fuckin' classic England, always in control.' Instead, he said, "Not on a ship this size, no" in a very controlled monotone voice.

England nodded again. "Alright, well then feel free to stay in here as much as you'd like. You're also free to roam the top deck. Preferably don't go below deck - the men don't know you after all. We should be arriving in Charles Town sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay, thank you," Alfred said, stretching his left arm across his chest and digging his nails into his arm to stop himself from saying something like 'Oh, I'm free to stay in here? I'm free to do anything, fuck you.'

"Alright, then," England said, rising. "They're probably looking for me. If you need anything, let me know."

Alfred nodded and watched as the other man left the cabin, thinking to himself that he was going to have to have a serious discussion with Arthur.

Alfred rolled his shoulders and neck and noticed that on the chest next to the bed there was an old shirt laid out. Alfred slipped it on over his head, unable to wear the bloody t-shirt he had yesterday. It struck him as comical and he laughed for a second at the look of this flowing dingy white shirt over his jeans and tennis shoes.

Using the remains of his t-shirt, Alfred rebandaged the wound on his side and then strode out of the cabin feeling like he was going to a costume party only half-dressed. No longer shielded by the walls of the cabin, the wind whipped around him and tousled his wheat blonde hair.

The crew was busy at work guiding the ship on her voyage home. Alfred found it incredibly intriguing and for a moment had an extreme sense of deja vu. He shook it off and walked out onto the deck. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but miles of blue water and sky. It was breathtaking. Alfred heard a familiar laugh from ahead of him and looked up to see Arthur - not past England, but Arthur - leaning out over the edge of the railing holding onto a rope and laughing as the saltwater hit his face. No longer in his sweater vest, but still in his button-up and slacks, he looked very out of place. But he also looked very happy.

"Wow," Alfred said, before realizing he'd said it.

Hearing the voice of the younger made Arthur tense up and hop down off the railing. "America," he said, voice trying to regain dignity. "Good afternoon, we decided to let you sleep through the morning due to the draught and the injury."

"I almost always sleep through the morning, you're good," Alfred said, watching as Arthur tried frantically to smooth down his clothes.

"Does that shirt fit okay? It was an extra onboard."

"I think so," Alfred said, looking down. He would have worn something very different during this time and he wasn't entirely sure how this was supposed to look.

Arthur examined him for a moment and nodded. "It'll have to do until we make port. We'll obviously have to get some clothes, we can't wear what we have. We'll stand out."

Alfred nodded. "Makes sense." He chewed on the inside of his cheek, deciding if now was the time to do this before realizing that there was no time better. "And by the way, Great Britain," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe next time you and your twin come talk to me before you start making decisions involving me. I know that was never really your thing."

Arthur was shocked. And angry. "Are you talking about us discussing your sailing ability? Or lack of it, rather. That's hardly something to get so upset about," he said, trying to brush the matter aside.

Alfred clenched his hands into fists and felt a distant but familiar rebellious anger in the pit of his stomach. "Don't talk about me when I'm not there. You don't get to decide where I can or can't go or what I'm good at or not."

"Oh, you mean like how yesterday I didn't make any sort of call about your sword fighting ability and you almost got yourself killed?"

"You said yourself it wasn't that deep!" Alfred shot back, getting angrier and angrier with the other nation.

"America, what would you have done if I hadn't been there?" Arthur asked, condescending.

Alfred's nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw before he took a series of short, angry breaths and said, "I've figured out everything else without you for the past two hundred and fifty years. Why should that have been any different?"

Arthur stepped closer to the younger nation, not afraid of him despite size and height. "Careful, boy."

"Don't call me 'boy'," Alfred growled back to him. By this point, some of the men had gathered around them, interested in the argument and what could go down. Arthur noticed them and grabbed Alfred's arm.

"Come on," he said, pulling him in the direction of the Captain's Quarters.

Alfred yanked his arm out of the other man's hand. "No! Fuck you! What is wrong with you?"

Arthur came back and spoke in a hissed whisper. "We don't need other people to see this. Look, we just have to get back to our time, alright? And then you never have to talk to me outside of meetings ever again."

"Good, I won't," Alfred said and turning on his heel, stalked to the bow of the ship with Arthur staring after him.

On the mainland, a little boy ran frantically about his lovely home. He was trying to make sure everything was in perfect order for him to sneak out tomorrow to pick up his perfect surprise. He had to make sure that he could time it correctly to slip away without anyone noticing.

As far as he could tell, all of the maids were usually washing linens at around two o'clock. The butler and the cooks were preparing dinner starting around 2:30. The little boy finished his lessons around one every day, still being very young, and so his tutor left around 1:15. That meant that at 2:40 was the perfect time to slip out of the house, run into town, and go to the market tomorrow.

The little boy ran up to his room followed by a call of "Please! No running! You know how Mister Kirkland feels about you running in the house!" to which he responded with a polite but rushed "I am quite sorry!"

Upon entering his room, the boy dug in his toy chest to find his little purse with money in it. He had done such work to earn this money, and he had saved it for some time now. He had had to pay half when he had placed the order, and tomorrow he would pay the rest.

The little boy smiled to himself, missing one of his two front teeth. He put his purse under his mattress so he would have faster access to it tomorrow. Then, on quiet feet, he slipped out of his bedroom and gently into the bedroom across the hall, one that had not been used for some months now.

He walked over to the chair in the corner and picked up the shirt that was still hanging on it and crawled into the large bed in the center of the room. He knew it was still going to be a few weeks before Iggy got home, and Alfred missed him so bad. But he was happy to know that Iggy was doing his duty as an empire and a gentleman and that Alfred was going to be able to buy him a nice surprise to show him his gratitude for being the best big brother ever.