HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ENGLAND!
Well, it's his unofficial birthday. And I'm probably not getting this up before midnight here in the UK, so happy belated sort of birthday, England! I said in one of my stories that I updated on this day last year that celebrating it on the fifth of November would be cooler cuz of the fireworks and everything, but I'm sure England's probably not altogether fond of Guy Fawkes Night after the events in this story.
Anyway, one of my reviewers, ThatStrangeDutchGirl, has created some truly fantastic fanart, which I've linked on my profile in the Ash Song part of my story section cuz linking stuff in chapters can be a real bitch.
Also, England's in the spotlight of some psychological, confrontational stuff this chapter, which I apologise for. More to England than you guys if I'm honest. I should try being nice to my country, especially as it's kind of his birthday. Ish. I also have included Canada being the kind-hearted precious ray of perfection that he is, because England could really do with some emotional support. Got a lot of Scotland and America angst too. I think pretty much all of my chapters are gonna have angst and it should just be accepted as normal in this story. XD
Answering one of the big questions in this chapter too, which I feel pretty good about. ;)
Enjoy, and allons-y!
Ten
Inevitable Choices
England's eyes snap open.
Okay. He's reached his inevitable conclusion and he accepts it fairly calmly for something so worrying. He is definitely, hopelessly, undeniably and completely insane.
He's not even entirely sure he was actually asleep when he saw the latest vision, but whether or not he was truly unconscious, it's over now. He's pressed up against the far corner of the library, hidden from the door by several shelves. He remembers resisting the urge to leave the building after the little incident with America. It would have been so easy, after all- the others are all upstairs in the meeting. No one would have noticed him leave. But he chose to back away from the mirror shards and take refuge in the corner instead. His drunken thoughts from the night before had flooded through his mind about how tired he felt.
And he is tired. So, so tired. All these nightmares and all the running. And from what?
The twisted image of the other England flashes inside his mind and he buries his head in his hands, completely forgetting that he cut them earlier on the glass.
'Dammit,' England mutters, quickly realising his mistake as he walks back over to the mirror shard and observes his face, now smeared in blood. He wipes it away with his sleeve, no longer caring about how much blood he gets on his shirt. This day is just getting worse and worse. There's so much red. Red on his hands, red on his face, red in America's eyes-
England freezes, clenching his fists. It's just more proof that he's insane. America's eyes are and have always been blue.
England can't have been unconscious for long, or someone would probably have come to check on him at some point. Then again, perhaps not. England doesn't seem to recall many of the other nations caring about him very much.
He therefore jumps a little when he hears a knock on the door. It can't be America or Scotland or else they would have just barged in. Maybe it's someone like Japan...
'Yes?' he asks.
The door opens and for a second England thinks he must be wrong because it appears to be America standing in the doorway. Then he focuses properly and realises it is in fact Canada instead.
The younger nation smiles. 'Hi, England. How are you doing?'
'Uh... well, I don't appear to be having any luck here.'
Canada winces a little as he spots the blood. 'Looks like it. Did you cut yourself on the glass?'
'Your brother walked in and made me jump.'
Canada sighs. 'Yeah, America has a habit of doing that.'
England leans down and begins placing the glass shards back in the bag they were being stored in.
'Scotland was really concerned about where you were last night,' Canada continues.
England doesn't say anything. The fact that Scotland was worrying about him doesn't change anything.
'Scotland said that you've been disappearing a lot over the last few days, especially at night time.' Canada sounds a little hesitant about bringing this up but it's clear there's something he wants to say. England doesn't look up at the other country just yet. He just carries on putting the shards into the bag.
'You're... uh... you're not too happy about being here, eh?'
Finally, England glances up at Canada. 'Hmm?'
'Here, with the rest of us. You seem... uncomfortable.' On the contrary, Canada seems uncomfortable himself at mentioning this.
'Well... I... I don't mean any offence by it...' England mutters lamely.
Canada bends down and helps England pick up the last of the shards. 'We know. It's okay. We're just really glad you're alive.'
England blinks. 'Right... thanks.' He doesn't know why he's so surprised at these kind words. Canada's always had a talent for putting things in a nice way. England honestly isn't sure why he was expecting any different. But for some reason, it's quite easy to imagine the words becoming hostile.
'It must be strange for you, coming back to this,' Canada laughs quietly. 'I mean, everyone was so surprised to see you and everything... that must have been weird.'
There are several weird things happening in England's life right now, and this isn't even reaching his top ten.
'It must be stranger for the rest of you,' England responds. 'After all, I was supposedly dead.'
'We did think you were dead, yeah,' Canada admits, looking sincerely sorry. 'We, uh, kind of had proof-'
'Scotland told you all. I know,' England murmurs.
Canada appears to be quite awkward now. 'But... you're obviously not dead. It just doesn't make any sense.'
Memories of his blue-eyed doppelgänger and the burning London cause England to think that perhaps there is an explanation, but it's not one that he's comfortable with in the slightest and it's certainly not one that anyone will believe.
'How exactly did it transpire?' he asks. 'My death announcement.'
'Well... there was a world meeting after about three years. Germany announced it- after all, he's always the one we rely on to take charge of discussions and speeches. Scotland provided the evidence. There was some surprise, of course, but... but not much. A lot of people had already jumped to this conclusion prior to the official announcement. We didn't know what else we could do so we...'
'Accepted it,' England finishes, feeling hollow.
'Except America didn't,' Canada says unexpectedly.
England drops the mirror shard he's holding. It clatters to the ground, snapping in half. He's heard about this before, of course, but he's not sure he ever thought it to be true.
'He never believed it for one second, even after the announcement. He got quite mad, actually. He said we were all just giving up.'
'Well... you all were... weren't you?' England says very quietly, immediately wishing he'd kept those words to himself.
'Not like that,' Canada says sadly. 'It wasn't 'giving up'. That's not how it was. But America, he wouldn't listen. He said he knew you were still alive. And that, England, is why if you're going to trust anyone, you should trust him.'
'Huh?'
'None of us are blind,' Canada says in a kind voice. 'We know you're afraid to be around us right now, but we don't really know why. And I just want you to know that it's okay. There's obviously a good reason, even if you haven't figured it out yourself. And it's fine.'
'Canada...'
'But I just want to say one thing: America had more hope for you than any of us. And we can see the way you look at him, like you think he's going to hurt you. And I know you can't help it, and I'm definitely not blaming you for anything. I just don't want you blaming him for anything either. He really missed you. We all did.'
England tries to avoid eye contact with Canada because he knows his eyes are dangerously close to tearing up. This wouldn't be the first time Canada has seen him cry. Hell, this wouldn't even be the first time Canada has seen him cry over something involving America. But he doesn't want it to happen again. He doesn't want to cry at all.
'Come on,' Canada says softly. 'We should both go back to the meeting.'
England wants to protest but after Canada went out of his way to make him feel better, he's not so sure he should refuse. So the two of them finish putting the shards in the bag and then they stand up and head towards the door.
'There's one big announcement we thought it's probably about time we made,' Germany calls out as the world meeting in Paris draws to a close. The nations are all tired from a long week of meetings and discussions and as this is the final day, many of them have shown little to no enthusiasm in participating in any debates.
A few around the room groan at the thought of having to stay any longer just because Germany has one last thing to say. America himself keeps yawning loudly, hoping that he'll be excused. He's too tired today and he simply wants to go back home and sleep. Maybe get a McDonald's at the airport, watch a couple of movies on the plane, and then just totally chill out.
Germany sighs, as if knowing that no one is really paying attention, so he says the words that he knows will get everyone to listen. 'It's about England.'
The other nations, most of whom were rising from their seats in an attempt to sneak out the room, all freeze and the chatter dies immediately. America sits up straight in his seat, leaning forwards, exhaustion forgotten.
'As you all know, it has been two years and eleven months since England was last sighted,' Germany says. 'And, well, we've all had our different theories as to what might have happened to him. But... there's one we feel it's time to accept as reality.'
No... don't even go there. There are warning bells ringing in America's head.
'Many of us have begun to suspect that this may be the case and it's been concluded that it is true.'
Don't say it. Don't you dare say it.
'The fact of the matter is...' Germany looks torn between finishing the announcement and giving up on it. It's clear he doesn't wish to say any of this.
'The fact of the matter is that Wales and I knew from the beginning,' Scotland finishes. 'We could both feel it, but neither of wanted to admit it to each other, the rest of the world, or even ourselves for that matter. But we've spent almost three years doing something that we knew from the start would receive no result, and I've spent months tryin' to be a little more honest 'bout it. But a lot of yeh know that when countries are tied together via unions, we can feel each others' life forces. And I haven't felt his since the fifth of November, 2010.'
'So... you only decided to tell us now?'
'You mean we've been searching for nothing this whole time?'
'Are you sure? England can't just be...'
'No...'
'I wanted to be wrong,' Scotland says. 'But I'm not. England really is dead.'
There are a few weakened protests and a few scattered sighs of resignation around the room, but no one seems to be prominently denying it. America clenches his fists, trying not to feel too disgusted with the other nations. They're tired and all they wanted was a definite answer. This is a way out of the mystery for all of them. An end to the search.
America isn't going to take it. Not at all.
'So that's it, then?' he says loudly, not bothering to smile and come up with any jokes. Screw that. Screw everything. 'What is it, you're just gonna say 'oh, nice knowing him' and move on?'
There's a hardened scowl on Scotland's face. 'No, we're gonna hold a bloody memorial. Is there a problem?'
'Uh yeah, there is, actually,' America replies, narrowing his eyes. ''Cause you'd think that after even less than three years, which is nothing to a country, you might still have a little hope and do a bit more for your own family.'
Scotland pushes his chair back and gets to his feet, his furious eyes fixed on America. 'What the hell do yeh know, yank? He was my brother-'
'Exactly. So maybe you try harder to find him instead of just giving up-'
'He was my brother,' Scotland repeats, 'and a part of Great Britain. So I can sense it. I wouldn't expect yeh to understand-'
'Will you stop talking about him in past tense already!' America yells. 'If you care about him even a little then you shouldn't just give up on him like that! This is England we're talking about!'
Scotland throws his chair out the way and strides round the table until he reaches America. 'Yeh're not the one who can feel it, yeh bastard! Yeh're not the one who can actually feel that he's dead, every single sodding day, and yeh're not the one who's constantly having to think about how it might have happened and what even caused it and whether it was an accident or whether someone- whether someone did something to him, so don't yeh dare lecture me about just giving up-'
France, Germany and Japan are pulling the two apart immediately and Germany quickly calls out, 'Meeting dismissed!'
America angrily shakes off their hold and grabs his briefcase from the floor by his seat, storming from the room before anyone tries to get him to calm down, or points out how hypocritical it is for him to be screaming at others about giving up because he has told England to drop dead plenty of times in the past (but don't any of these idiots realise he never meant it?).
He feels like punching a wall. He was always jokingly telling England to drop dead. It was his running gag. He used to slip it into almost every conversation he had with the other nation. He probably used it in the last conversation they ever had.
He doesn't leave the building because he knows that everyone else is doing so right now and he doesn't want to see anyone right now. So he finds an empty room on the floor above and slams the door shut behind him, quickly pushing aside a stand with a whiteboard on it and slumping down on a chair, resting his head in his hands.
There's a knock at the door. America doesn't answer. It's probably Japan or Canada, or maybe it's Scotland, looking for a fight. Which is good, because a vindictive part of America really does want to fight him right now-
'Wow, you really lost your cool.'
America's eyes widen in shock. That's not Japan or Canada or Scotland. That's not any of them. It's the voice from the phone. The British, high pitched one. The person who hasn't called back in months and months.
'You still stick to what you originally thought though. That's good. Can I come in?'
'You...' America is on his feet in an instant, quickly striding over to the door. He swings it open without a moment's hesitation and stares down at owner of the voice.
Familiar. That's the first thing America registers. The second thing that occurs to him is that he was wrong in assuming that the owner of the voice was female because of their high-pitched voice. He's not female at all.
He's a child.
'The two of yeh arrived together,' Scotland mutters to America as the next presentation is being transferred to the projection board for Russia's speech. 'So yeh must know more than we do 'bout where my little brother disappeared to last night.'
'He stayed at my place,' America replies with his typical wide grin. 'I found him getting pretty wasted at a bar and figured I should do the right thing, as I am the hero and all.'
'Why didn't yeh just bring him back to the hotel?' Scotland asks, secretly relieved that England didn't end up sleeping on a park bench somewhere.
'He didn't want to go back. Did you guys fall out or something?'
Scotland frowns. 'What makes yeh say that?'
'He... uh, he said quite a lot of stuff while I was bringing him to my home,' America answers, looking a little awkward. 'He probably won't even remember much of it, he was so out of it at the time. He probably never would have said any of it in front of me or anyone else if he was sober. He mentioned something about you and France.'
'Right...' Yes, of course. England was probably quite pissed off about Scotland and France talking behind his back. Scotland hates to think about how England will likely react when he finds out all the things the G8 have been saying about him while he's been skiving the meetings. Not that he should be offended by any of it, as it's pretty much all been discussions on how they might go about helping him, but England wouldn't recognise sympathy or concern if they danced naked in front of him.
'He said you betrayed him,' America adds hesitantly.
Scotland sighs. 'He would put it like that. Talking behind his back was out of order, I'll admit, but I'm just trying to bloody help him.'
'That's not exactly what he was upset about. He said there was something else you did.' America isn't smiling anymore. On the contrary, this is one of those rare occasions where he is completely serious.
'And what exactly is that?' Scotland asks, trying to think of something else he might have done to upset his younger brother.
America's blue eyes narrow. 'Same thing I was pissed as hell about. Or are you just gonna pretend it never happened?'
Scotland's feeling a little uneasy now. 'Yeh gonna elaborate?'
'He's probably talking about your attitude towards searching for England while he was missing,' Russia says cheerfully from across the room as he heads over to the projection board. America and Scotland both jump in surprise, unaware that anyone could hear their conversation. But then again, this is Russia, and he always has a creepy way of unnerving people in almost any situation. A few of the other countries tilt their heads in confusion, not quite catching the context of this discussion, but they're mostly too absorbed in the notes they've taken from the last speech.
'That's impossible,' Scotland says quietly. 'I haven't told him much about it. He doesn't know I called off the search.'
America raises his eyebrows. 'You sure about that?'
Scotland feels himself getting angry. 'What did yeh tell him?'
'I didn't say anything. He was upset about it before I found him. That's probably why he was getting wasted-'
'And how exactly did yeh just happen to find him?' Scotland interrupts, his voice getting a little louder. 'Out of all the bars in this ruddy city, yeh just happened to enter the bar that he was in?'
'He wasn't that far away from the hotel-'
'Yeh've been following him around, haven't yeh?' Scotland continues. 'Like when yeh ran out after him during the meeting the other day.'
'So I wanted to catch up with my long lost friend, what's the big deal?'
'Yeh were never exactly friends,' Scotland accuses. 'Yeh've said it yerself plenty of times.'
'Don't turn this around,' America argues. 'Iggy's pissed off at you.'
'Yeah, and he's scared to death of yeh,' Scotland replies icily. 'Yeh wanna explain what that's about?'
America's eyes widen. 'How am I supposed to know? What do you want me to say?'
'I want yeh to tell me why my brother looks like he thinks he's going to be murdered every time yeh're near him,' Scotland snaps. 'All I want is to help England and if he thinks he's not safe, which he does, then-'
'What, and you think I'm a threat?' America says incredulously. 'You have got to be kidding me.'
'Yeh were always so certain that England wasn't dead,' Scotland says. 'Like yeh knew something we didn't.'
'And you were so certain he was dead,' America shoots back. 'And you just gave up.'
'It wasn't like that and yeh know it,' Scotland hisses, trying to ignore the guilt flaring inside him and the worry that England might have discovered and misinterpreted this.
America's phone beeps with a new message. Still glaring at Scotland, he reaches into his pocket and pulls it out. All at once, the angry look disappears and a rather hopeful one takes its place. He stands up, quickly shoving all the paperwork in front of him on the table into his briefcase.
'America, what do you think you're doing?' Germany demmands.
America grins. It's almost as if the serious, angry look he had a minute ago was never there in the first place. 'Sorry, dudes! I've got a thing to get to!'
'What? No you haven't! Sit down!' Germany snaps.
'Don't worry, I'll be here tomorrow- probably. See ya!'
'America-san,' Japan calls out, looking exasperated as America races out the door.
'Wunderbar,' Germany grumbles. 'Why do we even bother calling it a G8 anymore? It's almost impossible for us all to be here at once, apparently.'
'We might as well call it the G7 then,' Russia says pleasantly.
'More like G6,' France comments, quickly doing a headcount.
'What? Who else is missing?'
After a few seconds of trying to remember, France says, 'Oui, of course. Canada went to go on check on Angleterre about ten minutes ago.'
As if on cue, the door to the meeting room swings open and Canada steps in, followed by a very uncomfortable looking England. He quickly glances around at the other nations, though Scotland notices that he and France are completely ignored.
Canada smiles warmly, despite the tension England is clearly exuding. 'Hey, everyone. We're back.'
'Find anything?' Japan asks.
England shakes his head. 'Nothing. It was useless.'
'Oh well. Worth a shot!' Italy says optimistically.
'Where's America?' Canada asks.
'He had somewhere he needed to be, and apparently it was more important than the G8,' Germany grumbles.
Scotland quickly scrutinises England's appearance. 'Yeh're covered in blood. Again. How is it yeh always manage to end up getting covered in- wait. Were yeh attacked? Is there another one of those creatures running around?'
'No. It was an accident,' England mutters. 'Just one of the glass shards.'
''Onestly, Anglettere,' France sighs, 'you can be so 'opless.' There isn't much of a sting in his words. France, like Scotland, is probably feeling guilty about last night.
'Wales arrived in the States this morning,' Scotland mentions, wondering if perhaps the mention of the third oldest brother will possibly reassure England in anyway. He was always the one England was closest to, after all. But England says nothing and still refuses to look at him.
'It's good that you are here, England,' Germany says. 'There are things we need to discuss.'
'I'm not part of the G8 anymore,' England replies, his voice emotionless. 'I'm sure you can talk about all these matters with Scotland.'
'Actually, this isn't to do with the meeting at all,' Germany continues. 'This is about you.'
'And your well being,' Japan adds.
England is silent for a second. No visible reaction crosses his face. Finally, he says, 'As I said, I'm sure you can discuss these matters with Scotland.'
'Huh?'
'He seems to have no problem discussing my... personal issues behind my back.'
Scotland feels like slamming his head against the table. 'England... we're trying to figure this out. Yer disappearance, yer return, the amnesia, that creature, the damage, all the important things. I just thought it would be best if everyone's on the same page here.'
England rolls his eyes. 'The damage is the least of anyone's problems. The walls are already under reconstruction and the mirror can probably be replaced-'
'Not the damage to the building, England. We mean the damage to you,' Russia says calmly. He's the only one in the room who's actually smiling. Even Italy looks rather solemn.
Finally, some emotion crosses England's face. He looks like he's just been smacked. 'Wh... what?'
'You know what I mean,' Russia replies, still smiling. 'You heard us yesterday, didn't you? I saw you quickly hide behind that pillar when I was chatting with Germany, Japan and France.'
England's eyes are wide, and Germany, France and Japan look horrified. Unlike Russia, they clearly weren't aware that they had been overheard.
'What's he talking about?' Scotland demands loudly.
'We were discussing England's current mental state,' Russia says casually, completely immune to the growing unease around the room. 'And about how he's clearly not comfortable with telling us everything because he doesn't quite trust us.'
You could hear a pin drop in the room during the silence that follows these words. The majority of the G8 look thoroughly mortified that Russia was so upfront about it in the presence of England himself.
England seems frozen, rooted to the spot, though when Scotland looks closely he can see his little brother is shaking slightly. 'England-' he begins but the other Brit has already turned around and raced out the door in the blink of an eye.
The meeting room immediately erupts in chaos.
'What the hell did yeh say all of that for?' Scotland shouts at Russia.
Russia blinks innocently. 'Someone had to.'
'You knew he was there... you knew he could hear us,' Germany says, looking furious. 'Why the hell didn't you tell us? We would-'
'- have never said any of it if you'd known he was there,' Russia finishes. His voice is still cheerful but his words are chilling. 'Exactly. That's the problem. If you want England to trust and confide in us then perhaps we should all start being honest with him.'
'What exactly did he overhear yeh saying about him?' Scotland says in a dangerously low voice. He understands where Russia's coming from but he detests how the other nation went about handling the situation.
'We... we were just talking about how surprised we were because that England-san was alive, given that we all thought he was dead,' Japan says quietly.
'And that the creature was definitely after 'im... and those around 'im,' France adds awkwardly.
'And that he is very different,' Russia finishes. He clearly has no problem admitting what was said, unlike the other three.
Germany clears his throat. 'Where will England have gone now?'
Scotland gets his anger under control as best he can. 'God knows. He disappears all the ruddy time, and always comes back under his own conditions. Knowing him, he'll only be found if he wants to be found, and that ain't very bloody likely.'
Damn Russia. Damn him.
And yet, as weird as it sounds, England's glad that at least Russia has the decency to say what he's thinking to England's face instead of whispering behind his back like everyone else does. The downside is that the cat's really out of the bag now.
And where to go?
Wales is supposed to be here, isn't he? Scotland said that Wales arrived in the States this morning. Will he actually be in Washington right now? No, it doesn't matter anyway. Wales is just as much to blame as Scotland for the abandoned search for England. Besides, if Wales meets up with England then he'll just call Scotland and the rest of the G8 and they'll find him-
And England still hasn't properly addressed the main issue: the demon, wherever the hell it is right now, is not just a hallucination. And what about France? He has shown no indication that he's the enemy today but that doesn't mean he isn't just biding his time...
England has to find somewhere to hide. Somewhere the others won't immediately think of.
He said he knew you were still alive... America had more hope for you than any of us...
Canada's words ring softly in his head, and in the spur of the moment England has his answer. He can go to America's house. No one will suspect that he'll willingly go there; after all, everyone thinks he's terrified of America. The only reason they probably think he stayed there last night was because he was too drunk to say otherwise.
Besides, he wants to know exactly why America was so certain that England was still alive. This can't just be because of his childishness or his hero complex. And America also seems to be popping up out of nowhere when England thinks he is alone. There's definitely something America isn't telling him and England is going to find out what it is.
It's about midday when England reaches America's house. He remembers Germany saying that America had suddenly left the meeting because he had a thing to get to, which means he's probably not here right now, unless the thing in question happens to be at his house. England doesn't exactly have a spare key or anything but he knows that a little bit of magic will have the door open in no time. He can just wait here until America gets back, then he can ask the questions he needs to ask and then he'll be on his way...
His stomach is twisting uncomfortably as he reaches the front door and he feels terribly jumpy. But now is not the time to be afraid. He's going to have to figure out how to get this irrational fear under control; it's completely embarrassing how everyone seems to have noticed that he's afraid of America. America himself has probably noticed.
He knocks on the door, just to be sure. There is a chance that America is here right now. But now he's starting to panic at the thought. He remembers the flash of red in America's eyes this morning and he resists the urge to turn around and run away.
When the door opens unexpectedly, England almost jumps out of his skin.
'Iggy?' America says in surprise, eyes wide. Blue eyes, England notes, relief quickly sweeping over him.
'Good, you're here,' they both say in unison, then stare at each other in shock.
'You... wanted me to come?'
America scratches the back of his head and grins sheepishly. 'I was gonna try and figure out a way to tell you, and this is a pretty good opportunity.'
'Tell me what?'
'Stuff. Stuff you probably need to know. Why did you come?'
'I want answers,' England says, crossing his arms.
America nods, still looking quite surprised. 'Right. Okay. Yeah. You should probably come in, dude.'
The house holds tell tale signs of company. There is an extra pair of shoes by the door, too small to be America's, and at the end of the hallway there's a light blue coat hanging up on the rack, also not America's size.
'Is... is someone else here?' England asks hesitantly.
'Um, yeah,' America replies. 'That's kind of the reason I need to explain some things to you.'
England feels uneasy about who might be here with them, but he decides to get the questions out the way while it's still just America who can hear him and before he has to greet whoever it is. 'I need to know how you knew I was still alive. And please spare me the 'because I'm the hero' speech.'
America smiles. 'Well that's just it, man. That's what I was gonna talk to you about.'
'You- you were?'
'Yeah. I know you were still alive 'cause someone told me.'
'Someone told you?' England asks, shocked. 'Who?'
America looks really happy, as if he's overjoyed to be telling England the truth. 'Your brother.'
England groans, visibly disappointed. 'Don't make me laugh. Scotland was the one going around telling everyone the exact opposite.'
'Not him,' America says, grinning.
'Who, Wales? Ireland? Wales probably went with whatever Scotland said and Ireland probably wanted me dead. There's no way either of them would have told you-'
'Not them, either,' America laughs. 'You really don't get it, do you?'
England is just thoroughly confused. 'Well who was it, then? Who could have possibly known that I was still alive-?'
'It was me,' says a new voice, young and childlike, from the doorway to the living room, directly behind England. He turns around quickly and his eyes widen in disbelief as he catches sight of the figure standing there.
'Hey,' Sealand says, smirking. 'Long time no see, jerk.'
Voila. An answer. XD
I did promise them eventually, after all. ;) I also did promise that Sealand would be important.
So, apologies for England being thrown into all that. I do kind of want to establish that the other nations want to help him though, and I figured that unlike the others (who have all been treading rather tentatively around the subject), Russia would probably be the most blunt, and in a way, the most helpful.
It is also canon that America has frequently told England to drop dead, though it's implied that he of course doesn't really mean it. It was my excuse to throw even more angst in. I give them hell and I relish it. ;)
Anyway, thanks for reading and remember to review!
