England hid in the bushes, bow and arrows ready for the attack. He looks really pale. He grinned. This time, for sure, he was going to get Scotland. He's always been pale.

I mean, paler than usual. A flock of birds suddenly flew up into the sky. He has more color now. He doesn't look like a porcelain doll anymore. England came out of his hiding spot to see what was the matter. The sky was dark grey, threatening rain. That's a good sign.

'That's odd,' he thought as he walked out of the forest, 'It was perfectly sunny just a moment ago.'

He went over to Stonehenge, where he found Scotland, the Irish twins, and Wales all gathered around the center. There was someone on the middle stone; England could see an arm. On the wrist was a golden bangle with the symbol of a shield that had a cross covering it. It was a bracelet Britannia always wore. Come on, England! Wake up already!

England felt hands gripping his shoulders; he felt as though he was being pulled away. America, stop it.

"Mum?" England asked, running towards the body, fighting back the tug on his shoulders. England? Indeed, Britannia was on the stone, though she looked more like a ghost; her body was transparent. She looked at England, smiled kindly, and said something. The words, sadly, were lost on England's ears. In the next moment, she disappeared completely. Looks like he's coming around… "Mum!"

England found himself in a different place, a room with beige walls and white furniture. There were people around him, who he didn't recognize at first glance. His head felt all fuzzy, like his mind had been spun around one too many times.

"Hey there, little brother," Scotland said, though he looked different. He was looking down at him from the other end of the bed. He was in a completely blue and official-looking uniform with a white criss-cross on the front. He sounded gruff, like he was annoyed at something… well, more annoyed than usual. He kept looking at one of the other occupants in the room, a guy with glasses and short blonde hair. Right next to him was another blonde guy who looked just like him, except the second's hair was longer and his face was nicer. "How are you feeling?"

England looked back at Scotland and realized why he looked so different. He had facial hair on his chin. It wasn't much, but it definitely made him look older. "What happened to Mum?" England asked, sounding completely helpless.

"What?" Scotland asked surprised.

"Oh no," someone else in the room said, though England didn't know who. His focus was solely on Scotland.

"What happened? Where is she? Why was she on the stone table?" England could feel panic rise within him. A part of him knew exactly what happened, and he refused to believe it.

"What is he talking about?" that first blonde glasses guy asked. He had this one small clump of hair sticking up. England had half a mind to reach out and pat it down flat.

"Shh…" North said. He too looked older, and England had never seen him with a serious face on. His hair was also short… maybe that's it.

"England…" Scotland said slowly, "She's gone… she's been gone a long time…"

England felt his heart breaking. "No, she can't… she can't be dead."

"Come on, you two," North said to the blonde twins, "Let's skedaddle, shall we?" It was still weird to England that North had his hair short.

"Please tell me this is one of your tricks," England said to Scotland, getting up, "Please…"

Scotland didn't say anything. Wales appeared and put his hands on England's shoulders and pushed him back down on the bed. "It's alright, England," Wales said calmly.

"No, it isn't!" England yelled, fighting back against Wales, "She can't be gone! She's a nation! She's immortal!"

"Shhh…" Wales said, his turquoise eyes glowing. Instantly, England calmed down. He felt his head swim and his body became very heavy. "Shhh… go back to sleep. We'll explain everything in the morning."

England felt his eyelids drop as he slowly nodded off. Wales started humming a song that Britannia would sing on some nights when England had a hard time sleeping. With tears in his eyes, England fell back asleep.

88888

England stared at his box. Spain was taking a siesta and the Englishman really didn't want to see the eyes of Spain's crew alone. They didn't really like England, which was to only be expected. There was something important about the box. While true, he knew that Wales gave it to him, that was all he knew about it.

He did remember that the spoon had meaning, according to Wales. It was a love spoon and each of the different symbols meant something. England knew the horseshoe was to represent luck and the cross was to represent faith. The four leaf clover… luck again? Or was it just a symbol for Ireland and North's land? England couldn't remember.

Then there was the whole issue of opening the darned thing. There had to be a key; there was a lock on it. But England had no idea where that key was and just assumed that it sunk with the ship. But he had this nagging feeling inside him that he had the key on him. Why?

Spain started coughing violently and woke up. He fell out of the hammock he was using. England put the box down and ran to Spain's side. "Something wrong?" England asked, helping Spain up into a sitting position.

Spain shook his head, but was still coughing. England took out his flask and handed it to Spain, who had a swig of the stuff.

"Gracias, Inglaterra," Spain said quietly.

"What happened?"

Spain shook his head again, "I don't know. It's been happening a lot recently, ever since I started on this voyage. No need to worry about it though. I am fine."

England nodded, acknowledging the comment but not really believing it. Spain sounded shaken, and not just physically.