A/N: YEA got it up :D :D This one was an absolute joy to right, for more reasons then one :)
So as most of you can probably tell already, I'll be moving my release dates to every other week, because I just can't find the time to write a chapter every week D: Oh, and to those of you who read "A Dangerous Attraction," thank you ^^ and I will be continuing it :D
This is un-betaed, because I wasn't sure if she would have time to, and I'm to busy for the rest of the night to send it to her, get it back, check it over, and then post it. More likely then not, I'll send it to her tomorrow and then reupload this all pretty like ^^ So I'm BEGGING on bended knees, please forgive all the errors, and for those of you who get that itch to tell me what's wrong, hold off on this chapter lol. I promise I will attend to all remaining issues AFTER my beta get's her hands on it :) I am ever thankful for the corrections though :D
Oh and if this chapter seems overly sappy, yea I know XD That's what I get for listening to "Bubbly" while writing this...
Onward! :)
O ~ O ~ O
Alfred turned the shimmering semi-gloss package over in his hands, examining it closely as radiant smile worked its way onto his face. His parents knew him well. He placed the parcel gently in the folds of his bed sheets beside him and picked up a small cardboard box by his feet. It was littered with stamps, and tied up at the top in a bow with a worn piece of string. It was addressed simply, 'To the Hero', with his families address scribbled in familiar penmanship in the left corner, and then another address just beneath it, in his mothers hand. Placing the package on his knees, he slowly undid the messy bow, itching with anticipation.
It had been only an afternoon since he had received the mail in the hall that day. It turned out that the big wait up for food, was because it happened to be mail delivery day. When Laura had informed him of this, he'd been, in all honesty, surprised that they would be allowed to receive anything, to which she promptly replied 'What do you think they're trying to do Alfred, isolate us? Of course we're allowed to get mail.' He'd held back an amused yes as he recalled the useless cell phone in his pocket.
How had his parents gotten the address? He hadn't the slightest. And frankly didn't give a flipping fuck because God it was something physical and there and real from his family, and he was relishing every second of opening each letter, and examining the contents of all the boxes as if there were precious jewels inside. It was if actually getting to see something that they'd touched had turned his faint homesickness into a roaring stomachache.
From his mother, he'd received practical things. A couple extra sets of jeans, some new shirts, a stack of books, a blue and gold scarf (which were apparently the colors of the school, and how he'd missed that announcement Alfred hadn't the faintest) 'to keep him warm' and an extra pair of glasses. Tucked between the folded cloths, she had planted a letter, stuffed with pictures and written like a novel.
His father had been a little bit more ambitious. In his lose, newspaper bound package, he had enclosed not only a stack of Alfred's comic books (which he had been forced to leave at home, courtesy of his mother) but a beautiful, brand new mint condition copy of the latest superman issue, as well as the American flag that had been hanging in Alfred's room, folded carefully and in such a way that it wouldn't crease. The flag was already tacked proudly to the wall beside his bed.
And now, came the most interesting box. It was medium sized, but light, as if there wasn't much in it. The return address at the bottom, a place that Alfred had not been in quite some years, and which brought a nostalgic smile to his face.
He opened the top slowly, peering into the blackness of the parcel. What could it be? A new baseball mitt? A Yankee's jersey? Or maybe he'd sent him that remote control helicopter Alfred had been gunning for. He tilted his head curiously. Looked like clothing. Odd, that wasn't really his style.
Slipping his hand into the box, his eyes lit up as he grasped the material between his fingers. It was leather, but a breathable, light leather, the kind that hung loosely at your sides instead of sticking to you, and that moved with the passing breezes.
Of course, he didn't buy cheap stuff. If he was going to send Alfred clothes, they were going to be expensive. He whipped out the clothing, holding it up in the air to examine. His stomach did a flip-flop. It was a new bomber jacket, crisp and clean as if it had just been made.
Stitched in the top left was a white circle, a golden star set over it and touching the corners just so, as if trying to break out of it's confines. The bottom was lined with a black and white striped border, not made of the leather material, but of a softer fabric, as was the collar, sticking up to act as a sort of shield around the wearers neck. On the back, a white numbered '50' had been stitched into the material, bringing Alfred a warm sense of longing, as he remembered his home in the states. It was perfect.
Jumping to his feet, Alfred pulled his arms through the sleeves and tugged on the ends, fitting around himself. Just right. As if it had been made specifically for him. Alfred wouldn't have been surprised if it actually had been. Turning back to the box, he picked up a small scrap of paper that lay at the bottom.
'Had this custom made for you. I know you've needed a new one, so I splurged and had it done. Don't tell your mother I had it made, she'll kill me. I'm proud of you kid! At this rate, you're going to be smarter then me someday. Oh, and I swear to you, this is the year you come visit me for the holidays. New York isn't as great without my favorite Nephew, and it's been years since you've gotten to see the tree. Don't worry; I'll work something out. Keep soarin' buddy. –Love, Uncle Jake.'
Alfred laughed fondly, slipping the scribbled note into his pocket. He said that every year, that they were going to come visit him instead of the other way around. It never did happen, but it didn't surprise him really. His uncle was far too whimsical to plan things like that. His family should consider themselves lucky that they even managed to get him out every year at Christmas time, considering how he was. Still, Alfred supposed if you were as well off as his uncle, you could afford to forget things from time to time.
He hugged the jacket to himself, grinning happily. He definitely couldn't have asked for a better gift. It got him wondering what the others had received. In all the chaos, he hadn't been able to get a good look at how many packages everyone had gotten, and considering Matthew had locked himself in the bathroom when they got home, he really hadn't had the chance. He would have gone and asked Soren, but the boy was still down at school, doing research for something or other.
Alfred glanced casually at the time on his phone. Six fifteen in the evening. Not that you could tell, what with the clouds still pouring down rain outside. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his blue plaid pants. So now what? He chewed on the inside of his lip. He could always go and try to get Matty out again, but somehow he didn't think his friend was going to appear any time soon, and it seemed best to leave him to himself.
"Maybe Kiku's free." He mused, wandering out into the hall. The sound of hoarse, violent coughing invaded his ears almost instantly, and he flinched, glancing uncertainly behind him at the door to Yao and Ivan's room. It sounded like the small Chinese boy still wasn't doing well. He reached for the doorknob, hesitating as his hand brushed the cool, golden brass.
Antonio had tried to pop in early and see if he was all right, and Ivan had been less then appreciative of the other boy's intervention in his roommate's health. It wasn't like he'd been mad or anything, Alfred supposed, more like protective, and Antonio booked it out of there the minute that Ivan had stepped in front of the other boy's bed, insisting that he would be the one to care for him.
He glanced cautiously down the hallway. Maybe he could just slip in for a second to make sure he wasn't coughing up his lungs… With out a second look, he yanked the door open and tumbled into the room. It was surprisingly tidy, looking to be in much better shape then the last time he had wandered in. Then, the floor had been littered with bottles, and one side of the room covered in magazines and trash. The bed still wasn't made, and there were still clothes littering the floor, but it was certainly and improvement.
A soft groan from the right side of the room drew his attention away from the state of the quarters, and over to the pale, onyx haired boy who lay shivering in his bed.
"Yao!" He exclaimed, stepping over to the boy's side. He was sweating profusely, the salty liquid beading across his skin and slipping down his cheeks as he let out a fierce cough, disturbing them. He long, ebony bangs clung to the side of his face, damp from the condensation and looking as if they were in desperate need of a washing. When had he gotten this bad?
"You look terrible." Alfred muttered, brushing his hand across his forehead to feel his temperature. He was definitely warm.
"Hey, Yao can you open your eyes for a sec? Can you sit up at all?" He urged the boy, shaking his shoulder gently. Yao let out a weak cough, but nodded slowly, pushing himself feebly up off his pillow and fixing his golden eyes on the American.
"Sorry, but I need to see if I can figure out what's up." Alfred explained quietly. Yao just shrugged, rubbing his eyes.
"If you could figure out what is wrong with me Alfred Jones, I would be eternally in your debt." He mumbled out, incoherently.
"Ok, ok." He rubbed his arms nervously; wracking his brain in search of what one would normally do next. His mom always asked him what his symptoms were before doing anything.
"Does anything hurt?" He asked experimentally. Yao nodded.
"Throat. Head." He replied, blinking slowly.
"Chills?"
"Yea."
"Do you feel warm?"
"I'm sweating aren't I?" He coughed into his arm, gripping the sheets tightly.
"Anything else?"
Yao shrugged. "It's just a cold, I'll get over it." He muttered tiredly. Alfred scrunched his eyebrows.
"You're not allergic to anything are you?" Yao laughed weakly.
"Not that I know of, no."
"And it started when we got back from town, right?"
"Right. After I'd been," he covered his mouth, turning away as he let out a particularly vicious hack, "in the rain all that time. I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
Yao wrinkled his nose. "I just need tea. Tea and some fresh air and I'll be better in no time."
"Tea?" Alfred blinked. Yao nodded. "I can do that." Alfred exclaimed proudly. He wasn't the greatest cook in the world, but he could make tea, even if he wasn't particularly fond of the stuff.
"Give me five minutes, I'll be right back up." He promised, backing towards the door. Yao grunted I reply.
"Could you bring Kiku?"
"Sure."
The Chinese boy let out a dry sigh, and without even a glance at the blonde American, collapsed on the bed and turned away. Alfred inched out the door, shutting it quietly behind him. Tea, tea, tea. He dashed down the hall and rounded the stairwell, tripping down the wooden steps.
Truth be told, he and Yao hadn't really become the best of friends, especially since it was clear that Yao didn't seem enthusiastic at the prospect of sharing his friendship with Kiku. It was for this reason that Alfred felt the urge to help the boy. Maybe if he could prove to him once and for all that he wasn't so bad, then Yao wouldn't drag Kiku away every time they were hanging out. Maybe they would become friends. Who knows, maybe he would become close to Yao too.
And of course, he was a hero, so he couldn't just leave him there as he was.
"Augh. Be careful!" He heard Arthur's voice exclaim. Slipping down the stairs, he popped into the living room and glanced into the kitchen. Arthur was leaned up against the island, pinching his nose in irritation. Beside him stood, to Alfred's immense surprise, Ivan, who was staring with surprise at the floor in front of his feet. The hardwood floor was littered with broken glass that lay half hidden in a puddle of steaming liquid. Over the sound of the thundering rain, Alfred realized he could hear music playing softly from the countertop, and spotted a small black radio perching atop the counter.
"I didn't expect it to be so hot." Ivan admitted, bending down to stick his finger in the brown substance and pulling it back suddenly, as if he'd been burned.
"Well, it's no good now. You're going to have to make another cup. Here, I'll do that, and you can clean this up."
"No, I want to do it." Ivan insisted, staring pleadingly up at the emerald-eyed boy. Arthur sighed.
"What's going on?" Alfred asked curiously, stepping cautiously around the mess. Arthur narrowed his eyes and shot him a glare.
"What are you doing down here?" He muttered sourly. Alfred scrunched his nose. Who pissed in his lemonade?
"Actually, I came down to make Yao a cup of tea. It seems like he's getting worse." Ivan sprang to his feet.
"I'm doing that." Ivan informed him.
"Yes yes, we know." Arthur grumbled. "Idiot's been down here for twenty minutes making a bloody cup of tea. If you would just let me do it, he would have something to drink by now."
"I can do it, I can." Ivan assured him. Arthur shook his head.
"Have you never made tea before?" Alfred asked cautiously, grabbing a paper towel off the rack. Ivan nodded.
"Da, it's never been something I had to do. I don't really get sick much, and I'm quite sure I've never had a cold before. I remember once when I was little I was sick though, and my sestra made me tea. I felt much better after drinking it so I was thinking that if I gave some to Yao, he might get better too." Ivan admitted. "But I've never made it before. When my sister gave it to me, it was always lukewarm, so I didn't expect it to be so boiling and I uh…"
"Dropped it." Arthur finished. Alfred shrugged, getting to his knees and carefully picking out the shards.
"Accidents happen. Can't be helped. After all, there's no use crying over spilt tea." He laughed at his own joke, wiping up the mess. "But seriously, if you're going to bring him something, hurry up and do it. He's sounding worse by the wheeze."
Ivan nodded assuringly. "Alright." He said, and he was rummaging through the cabinets in search of another mug. He felt something brush his shoulder.
"You're being awfully nice to him." Arthur muttered, squatting beside him and placing the pieces gently into his open palm.
"Yea well, he's really trying to be helpful. And I don't think he's such a bad guy, really." Alfred murmured quietly as Ivan started the microwave. Arthur shot him a baffled look.
"I thought you hated him!"
"No, I hate you. He just creeps me out a little."
Arthur stared into the ground, reaching for a particularly large piece of ceramic.
"W-well of course I know that much." Arthur retorted. "I mean, do you think I would be standing here ordering him around like that if I actually thought he was going to hurt me? He could probably pick me up with one hand"
"Soren could probably do that too."
"Didn't ask you." Arthur hissed, shoving him. "Anyway, he asked me to help him make tea, so I agreed to it. I just didn't know I was helping a five year old make a cup. Really, not knowing how to do such a simple thing." Arthur let out a frustrated sigh. "But he's serious about making it himself. He would have never let me talk to him like that otherwise."
"I think I finished." Ivan called over the beeping microwave.
"Alright, take it out. And grab it by the handle this time so you don't burn yourself. Be careful." Arthur called. "And make sure not to slosh it, we don't want it on the floor."
"Right."
Alfred stifled a chuckle. "You're like a mom." He smirked playfully. Arthur scowled at him, feeling through the puddle of tea in search of stray shards of the cup.
"Shut up."
Alfred opened his mouth to retort, but stopped short as Arthur let out a pained hiss, retracting his hand swiftly as if he'd just been bitten by a snake.
"Damn it." Arthur swore, shaking his hand. "I pricked myself." Alfred stared at the boy's index finger that, despite the green-eyed boys best efforts, was starting to bead drops of blood at the tip.
"Let me see." Alfred ordered, taking his hand and examining the cut. It didn't look too deep. But Arthur was definitely going to need a band-aid. He felt the Briton fight his grip, and Alfred let go, allowing him to wrench his hand away.
"I can take care of it myself." He growled, looking away. "Don't touch me."
"I'm only trying to help."
"I don't need your help."
"Consider it payment for the other day."
Arthur snorted. "Oh so I help you through a rainstorm, and you give me a band aid. That's a fair trade off if I ever saw one."
"Are you two OK?" Ivan asked suddenly, peering over the island at them.
"Fine, just fine." Arthur lied. "Have you got it out?"
Ivan nodded.
"Good. Take the tea out of the package, and just let it sit in the cup. Make sure to leave the string hanging out."
The boy grunted in reply, and disappeared from view. Arthur sighed, staring at his finger again.
"Guess I'll have to wash it first."
"Let me do it." Alfred insisted. Arthur glowered at him.
"No, I'm not going to let you help me. Why are you so stuck on this anyway?"
Alfred shrugged. He wasn't really sure himself, to be honest. He just… really wanted to help him. A thought struck him suddenly.
"Do you remember when I asked you to deal with Francis for me? I promised you I'd do something for you right?" Arthur narrowed his eyes, as if trying to pull the memory from the depths of his thoughts. He nodded slowly.
"Yes I remember. You still haven't followed through on that. What about it?"
"Let this be that thing."
Arthur scoffed at him, getting to his feet and placing his handful of ceramic on the counter top. "If I've got the authority to order you around, I'm going to use it on something other then you helping me with a cut."
"Damn." Alfred swore quietly. Oh well, it was worth a try. "Alright alright, even so I still want to help."
"Shove off."
"Arthur, should I put sugar in it?" Ivan asked, playing with the teabag lazily as it splashed around in the cup. Arthur shook his head, running his finger under the tap.
"No, not when he's sick. Check the pantry to see if he have honey, that would work much more effectively."
"I'll check." Alfred offered, already reaching for the doors. He peered into the piles of food, shifting through them curiously. "Didn't Antonio get honey the other day at the store?"
"Yea, it should be in there." Arthur replied.
Alfred stuck his hand in between the containers, feeling around for the bottle. "Ah, I think I got it!" He exclaimed. Sure enough, out from the mess popped a small, clear bottle, filled with the gooey yellow stuff.
"Yuuum" He grinned, tossing the bottle to Ivan who caught it easily. "Man I love honey."
"I will be honest, I have never had it." Ivan admitted opening the cap and sniffing the top. "It smells sweet."
"You've never had honey?" Alfred cried, horrified. "Man, I never thought I'd feel sorry for a commie, but I guess there's a day for everything. Put it on toast, the stuff is heaven, I'm telling you."
"It also rots your teeth." Arthur muttered from behind him, finger wrapped gently in a paper towel. "Pour in a little, but not to much." Ivan nodded, and carefully let out a small squirt of it into the steaming tea.
"Perfect." Arthur sighed, smiling wryly, reaching into the bottom cabinets in search of a box of band-aids. "Now to just get it up to Yao."
"Why don't we do that?" Alfred offered quickly, fearing that the Russian boy would have another mishap with the boiling liquid. "Yao wanted me to get Kiku, so maybe you could do that?" Ivan frowned, cocking his head.
"You were talking to Yao?"
"Ahahahaa yea he um called to me through the door." Alfred lied. No need to tell him he'd been in there and upset him. Ivan instantly relaxed, letting an easy smile flit onto his face.
"Ah, I see,"
"We better hurry with this stuff. Here, give it to me." He said, extending his hands out to grasp the pale blue mug. Ivan hesitated, but reluctantly, handed him the piping cup. Alfred flinched at the heat.
"Cool. We'll get this right up to him." Alfred promised, grasping the cup gently in his hands. Arthur appeared at his side, pale band-aid wrapped snugly around the tip of his finger.
"Thank you." Ivan said earnestly. "I will be right behind you with Kiku." They exchanged a quick nod, and Alfred turned gently, starting up the stairs with the drink, Arthur following hurriedly behind him.
"You handled that well." Arthur said quietly, causing Alfred to almost lose his grip on the tea.
"I what?" Alfred blinked, turning to look at the Briton.
"You handled it well." Arthur repeated, furrowing his thick eyebrows. "It was a good idea to offer taking it instead of letting him trip over his feet and drop it again. He's good intentioned, just a little…"
"Childish?" Alfred offered. "Seriously, what kind of person has never had honey before?"
"We don't know anything about his family." Arthur pointed out. "Perhaps it wasn't something that had access to. Speaking of family…" Alfred caught Arthur toss him a sideways glance. "Did they give you that jacket? Your family I mean. It looks ni-new." He fumbled over his words. Alfred nodded awkwardly.
"Yea, my uncle sent it to me. He lives in New York."
"Ah." Arthur replied. "It um, it suites you I guess." Alfred's eye's lit up, a surprisingly pleased sensation bubbling in his stomach.
"Really? Thanks." He grinned happily.
"Don't sound so cocky, I said it suites you, not that it looks good." Arthur snapped, rubbing the silver studs in his ears. Alfred laughed.
"Hey, you do that when your nervous, right? Play with your earrings I mean." Arthur glowered at him.
"Shut up."
"What are you morons going on about now?"
It was all Alfred could do to keep the cup of tea from dropping from his hands and clattering to the ground.
"Lukas!" Arthur gasped, exasperated. "Don't come up and scare us like that. What if this oaf had dropped the tea on himself? Then we'd have glass to clean up and an extra load of wash to do."
"Gee thanks for worrying about me." Alfred muttered sourly. He glanced at the small blonde, standing behind them on the steps and holding a package by his side. The hood of a navy blue windbreaker covered his head; the smooth surface beaded with drops of rain, and zipped up to his chin. His black rain boots were caked with mud that extended up to the edges of his jeans, leading Alfred to the conclusion that he'd run home from… well wherever he'd been.
"Where were you any way?' Arthur asked, echoing his thoughts. Lukas shrugged.
"At school. Tino forgot to pick up his mail so I got it for him."
"Did you see Soren?" Alfred inquired. "It's getting kind of late." Lukas scowled.
"No, I didn't see him. He's not my problem to take care of. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get up stairs." He growled, pushing past them and marching up the steps.
"Touchy." Alfred rolled his eyes. "Anyway, are we going?"
"Lukas!" A voice called frantically from behind them.
"Oh now what?" Arthur snapped, spinning around. Alfred smiled at the familiar tone.
"Soren." He smiled, glad to see his friend was back at last. The Dane was breathing hard, leaning against the wall in exhaustion as water trickled off of him, each drop hitting the wood floor with a dull thunk.
"Al?" He coughed, lifting his head and blinking at them.
"The one and only." Alfred chuckled. "But uh, what are you doing? Did you need Lukas, because he just went upstairs?"
"You could say that." He sighed. "I saw him leaving the school and he completely ran away from me! So I chased him all the way home and then he locked the front door on me."
"If he locked the front door, how in God's name did you get in?" Arthur scoffed. Soren tossed Alfred a knowing grin, and pulled a paper clip out of his pocket.
"Let's say, I've gotten pretty good at unlocking things." He sniggered, slipping it back in his pants. "Anyway, sorry, I really have to uh…"
"Go ahead." Alfred stepped aside, motioning for his friend to go through. "Just promise me you're not gonna lock yourself in the bathroom."
Soren raised his eyebrows.
"I'll tell you later." Alfred sighed, smiling wryly. "Just go."
"Thanks." Soren nodded his head, and with a quick grin, dashed past them and disappeared up the stairs.
"I wonder why Lukas would lie about that?" Alfred wondered aloud. "I mean, he said he hadn't seen Soren…"
"Who knows? Who cares?" Arthur grumbled. "I thought we were helping Yao?"
"Oh yea!" Alfred remembered. "Come on, we better get going."
"Idiot."
"Piss off."
Arthur chuckled dryly and shook his head. Alfred couldn't help but smile, despite himself. No matter how much he disliked this boy, he loved it when Arthur laughed, and he'd take it however he could get it. Not that he'd ever tell him that.
When they got to Yao's room, he was coughing just as violently as ever, body wracked with every hack he let out. He took the tea gratefully, and Alfred and Arthur watched as he drank it slowly, tired contentment shining in his eyes with each sip.
"Thank you." He breathed quietly, after a particularly long drink and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "I feel better already. Really."
"Is there anything else you need?" Arthur inquired gently. Yao paused, glancing at the door.
"Well actually…"
"Yao!" Kiku burst through the entryway, eyes wide with an uncharacteristic panic and arms filled with a bundle of various cloths and knick-knacks. "Yao, are you ok? Ivan told me you were getting worse! Here, I brought a wet cloth, and another blanket. And I found your stuffed panda, it was in my suitcase! Oh and I brought you books to read. I know you've already read all of these, but I didn't have any others. Ah and I can make you soup and rice if you want!" Kiku rambled, fumbling with the pile in his hands. "I would have made you tea, but Ivan said he'd already done that."
"Ivan?" Yao stared, clearly still in the process of going through everything his friend had said. "No, Alfred made me tea, I asked him to."
"Actually Ivan made it." Alfred corrected him, glancing at the platinum haired boy who was peering into the room quietly from the hall. "I got down there just as he was finishing up."
Yao cocked his head, narrowing his eyes, as if unsure as to weather he should believe him. "Ah well… thank you then." He sighed, setting the cup down on his bedside table. "Thank you Ivan." He whispered, staring at the ceiling. A joyful smile flit onto the Russians face.
"I'm glad you like it." He said evenly, not allowing his voice to betray the emotions so clear on his face. Alfred felt the tug of curiosity nudging at his gut. Interesting.
"Ah but Kiku thank you for everything you've brought me too!" Yao said quickly, pausing to cough into his blanket. "But..." He smiled tiredly, the warm glow returning to his golden eyes. "The company of my best friend is really all I needed."
Kiku shook his head, "Not if you want to get better it isn't." He lectured sternly, placing the items at the foot of Yao's bed, and surprising him by pressing the cool rag to his forehead. "Now lay down and go back to sleep. I'll stay, but no talking. You don't want to wear your throat out more then you already have."
"Oh alright." Yao pouted, sliding under his sheets and coughing harshly. "You, will stay, right?"
"Of course." Kiku rolled his eyes, pinching Yao's nose lightly. "I'm not going anywhere." With a slow nod, Yao let his eyes close, and Alfred watched as he settled comfortably into the covers. He was out in almost an instant.
"Thank you, all of you." Kiku murmured in a hushed tone, careful not to wake his slumbering friend. "I'll take care of him for now, so you don't have to worry any more."
"I'm going to stay too." Ivan said, violet eyes fixed, almost tenderly, on Yao's sleeping form. "I am his room mate, I should have been able to help him by myself."
"No one's asking you to do all that." Kiku chuckled. "We're a team after all. We all have to help each other." Ivan nodded.
"Thank you. I'm glad you could do what I couldn't." He sighed, falling onto his bed. "And to you two. I am very grateful."
"We didn't do anything special." Arthur insisted, surprising Alfred as he felt the boy's fingers wrap around his wrist. "Anyway, we better be going, before we wake Yao again. We'll come get you when dinners done." And with a polite bow, Arthur pulled him out of the room and shut the door.
"Well, you didn't have to yank me along." Alfred muttered, rubbing his wrists. "I was going to come."
"Sure you were." Arthur snorted. "Come on, let's just go back to the room for now. Ludwig said at lunch we were going to have a meeting before dinner about the challenge, and if I remember correctly, we both have a history test to study for."
"Ugh." Alfred groaned. "That's right, damn it. Wait but aren't you in the advanced class?" Arthur shrugged, pushing open the door to their room.
"So? We're basically working on the same thing, my class just goes more, in depth with it."
"Ah…" Alfred scrunched his nose. He couldn't imagine anyone actually wanting to take a higher-level history class. It was so boring.
"What's that?" Arthur asked suddenly, as Alfred closed the door behind him.
"What's what?" He blinked, staring at the Briton. Arthur nodded to the flag above Alfred's bed.
"Oh, gift from my dad." He responded, ignoring the annoyed look on Arthur's face. 'If you have a problem with it, get a union Jack and call it even."
"Whatever." Arthur muttered, plopping down on his bed and rooting through his bag. "What chapter are you guy's on?"
"Uh, we just started chapter four. I think."
"Geeze." Arthur sighed, hauling the heavy textbook out of his knapsack. "At least remember where you are in the book. Lucky for you, I think we're on the same chapter."
"It's kind of a weird book, don't you think?" Alfred asked, setting himself down on the floor in the middle of the room, and pulling his notes from his binder. "I mean, what kind of textbook on British history has so much about…"
"America?" Arthur snorted, sitting down softly beside him. "I noticed it to. I mean, it just sped right through the rest of British history, right up to the American Revolution! I checked the back of the book, and that's all about pre-war, far far before America had even been discovered. I don't understand it, honestly. Why wouldn't you put that first?"
"It's more like an British-American textbook." Alfred agreed, thumbing through the pages in search of where he had left off. "I wonder why anyone would write a book all about those two countries?" Arthur shook his head.
"How should I know? If I had written it, the United States wouldn't even be mentioned."
"Harsh." Alfred muttered.
"Oh please." Arthur replied heatedly. "You're country's not even three hundred yet. Great Britain has seen and been a part of more history then America ever will. It's only natural to center one's focus on Britain."
"Say's you." Alfred snapped. "Who needs you Brits anyway? Why didn't you guys just fuck off when we told you to, huh? We were fine on our own, I can assure you."
"Well don't look at me." Arthur huffed. "Why my ancestors would want to hold on to such a God forsaken piece of land, I'll never know."
Alfred paused, rubbing his thumb over the edge of the flimsy textbook pages.
"I guess Britain must have really loved America." He murmured thoughtfully.
Arthur raised his bushy eyebrows skeptically. "Loved? My people most certainly didn't love the Americans, Jones. You all were just an investment."
"Pain in the ass investment though." Alfred laughed, giving him a brazen grin. Arthur rolled his eyes.
"No doubt there. If all Americans back then were like you, I can't even begin to imagine how obnoxious it must have been, dealing with those people."
"Well you're not exactly a ray of sunshine either."
"Irrelevant." Arthur grumbled, waving him off. "Anyway, that wasn't the point. America held no significant meaning to Britain, other then it's exports. Simple as that."
"I guess." Alfred agreed reluctantly. "Even so, don't you think there must have been something? Something other then that that kept the British there? I mean, Britain and America were like brothers, weren't they?"
Arthur wrinkled his nose. "I thought the analogy was a mother and daughter?"
"Yea, but I thought it about it, and America is definitely a guy. I guess Britain would be too, cause you guys used to be freaking scary."
"So why not father and son? Why brother and brother?" Arthur asked impatiently, crossing his jean clad legs and leaning forward.
"I don't really know." Alfred shrugged. "I guess, it's always felt more brotherly to me, then like a dad and his son. Ya know, cause a Dad, well he loves his kid no matter what, and is always watching over them. And kids are rebellious, but they usually go back to their parents in the end. Forgive them, you know? But brothers are different, especially and older one and a younger one."
Arthur cocked his head, and Alfred continued.
"The older one cares, but they're not constantly hovering over them, unless the younger one starts to get out of line, or do something the older doesn't like. Then they start fighting, and a lot of the times, they'll never stop. No matter how much they love each other, or even if they forgive each other eventually, that old grudge will never completely fade. A father wouldn't hold that against his son. Although, I think if you were to look at them that way, then they stopped being brothers after the revolutionary war. I guess you would call them more like… adopted brothers? So not actually related by blood, but so close you would think so. They still love each other now, but it's different somehow."
"Different how?" Arthur leaned back on the palms of his hands, earnest curiosity glittering in his green orbs.
"See, that's what I've never been able to figure out." Alfred admitted. "Maybe like best friends? But that still doesn't feel quite right. I just, don't know." He sighed, rubbing his shoulders. "Maybe one day I'll figure it out." He looked up Arthur, who was shaking his head and grinning softly. "What?" Alfred said, defensively
"Nothing. That's just, the most interesting way I've ever heard the story of America and Britain told." He laughed quietly. Alfred felt his pulse quicken. There it was again, that wind chime laugh. How lucky he was, to be getting along well enough with Arthur to hear his laugh twice. Although how long it would last, Alfred could never be sure. Chances were they'd be back to yelling at each other soon enough. It wasn't like he cared about the fighting, per say. He didn't care what the Briton did, or thought of him, considering he didn't care for him either. On the other hand, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something purely magical about Arthur's laugh, magic that any person would want to be a part of.
"Well geeze, you can have your way if you want." Alfred grumbled, crossing his arms.
"No, actually, I rather like your way." Arthur admitted, a twinge of hesitation lacing his voice. "It actually makes more sense then the parent child view of it all. And you're definitely dead on about the brother thing." Arthur smiled wryly. "They do tend to be just like that."
"You-you had brothers?" Alfred asked cautiously. Arthur nodded slowly.
"Damn pretentious tossers, that's what they were." He smiled lazily. "My brothers and I, well the lot of us were quite a bunch."
"I'm an only child." Alfred shrugged. "I've never known what it's like. Was it, nice?"
"Sometimes." Arthur chuckled. "I remember on night I was sleeping, and two of my older brothers came into my room and shook me awake. They told me that they had something to show me. I was only six at the time, so you can imagine my excitement at gallivanting out into the night with my elder brothers." He stared off into space, as if seeing the scene before him.
"We were in the country side at that time you see, visiting relatives, so it was virtually silent outside, and there wasn't a soul around, besides us. The stars were so bright there, and I was short, so the field grasses came up to my waist. I remember I kept thinking that there was something touching me. We wondered down the road a way's, and they told me I had to be quite as we neared this old, rotting barn."
"They opened the doors, looking at each other with these grins on their faces. If I'd seen those smiles with the knowledge I have now, I would have been out of there in an instant. Anyway, they led me into the place, and it was dark, really dark. The only light was from this little lamp hanging at the entrance. But I kept hearing these noises from up in the loft, and my brothers motioned for me to follow them up the ladder they had begun climbing."
Arthur laughed suddenly, eyes crinkling pleasantly at the corners. "There was my eldest brother, up in the loft amongst the hay, pulling the shirt off of some girl. Wasn't a pretty girl either. Now, normally I would never describe a girl as such. After all, all ladies are beautiful in their own way, and each has their own charming feature. But this girl, she looked like she fell out of the ugly tree an hit every branch on the way down." He snorted.
"And my brothers, bless them, cupped their hands over their mouths, and yelled 'Don't do it, you're only a boy!' Well the girl screamed bloody murder of course. Nearly tumbled off the ledge trying to get her shirt back on. And then the idiot hit her head against something on her way down another set of stairs to get away from us, and was knocked out cold. She'd accidently popped my brother in the eye, so he was cursing, tumbling around blindly but trying to find as all the same."
"I'll tell you, we booked it. I had never run so fast in my life. Of course he was after us in an instant, swearing so loudly I was sure he was going to wake up the neighbors a mile away, and waving this wrench at us. My brothers, in hysterics at this point, despite themselves, yelled 'We did you a favor!'
"And then," Arthur let out an amused chuckle, "he realizes this girl is laying on the ground out cold, so he grabs her by the leg and starts pulling her along as he chases us. We must have been quite a sight. Three little boys being chased by an elder with a black eye, flailing a wrench in his right hand, and dragging an unconscious girl behind him with his left. We managed to get back to the house before him, somehow, and locked him out. I don't think I'd ever laughed, or cried so hard in my life. Of course, it was never brought up with our parents."
He smiled fondly at the wood floor, spinning his thumbs around each other. "He left for boarding school the next day. It was the last time I ever saw my eldest brother."
"Wow." Alfred breathed. Because what else could he say to that? Arthur's face… he had never seen such a contortion of happiness and misery compiled into one expression before. If a hurricane could be calm, that would be Arthur's eyes, a violent battle raging in his calm emerald orbs. If weak could be strong, that would be his mouth, fighting between a smile and a frown, as if he were trying to decide what was ok for him to show. His shoulders sagged, as if carrying the weight of the world, but his head was held high, like that of a confidant leader.
Alfred simply couldn't figure out what to make of him.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly, finally able to force words out of his throat. Arthur shook his head and gave him an amused look.
"What for? I love that story. Makes me remember how stupid they were." He snorted. "Now, we were studying, weren't we?"
O ~ O ~ O
"Alright alright everyone shut up!" Ludwig bellowed over the noise of the room. Voices hushed quickly, eyes turning their attention to the annoyed German at the head of the room. "Thank you." He growled. "Now, as I am sure you are already aware of, we are here to discuss the upcoming challenge. All of you saw the clue, correct?"
"A flag, wasn't it?" Antonio piped up. Ludwig nodded.
"That's correct."
"Shitty ass teachers, how the hell are we supposed to figure out what it is with such a dumb hint?" Romano complained from his seat near the fireplace.
"It's not that difficult, is it?" Elizaveta asked. "Isn't it obvious what we're doing?"
"No, not really." Roderich responded, crossing his arms. "Do you understand, Ms. Elizaveta?" Alfred felt a grin tug tat his lips as the girl blushed lightly and flattened her skirt nervously, remembering Arthur's words. She really did like Roderich, didn't she?
"Um well, I figured it was something like capture the flag. That would make sense, wouldn't it?" She explained. Murmurs of agreement echoed around the room.
"But that's not a challenge at all!" Gilbert protested. "It's just a silly kids game!"
"Perhaps it's a different version of capture the flag?" Tino offered. "A more challenging one?"
"Th't would m'ke the m'st sense." Berwald agreed. "It d'se seem l'ke th'ts what the ch'llenge is. B't I can't th'nk of how you w'ld make c'pture the fl'g m're diffic'lt."
"It's likely that they'll spread us out over a wider radius then one would during a normal game." Lukas explained in monotone. " And I can guess that we would need at least two days to complete the challenge, so it's likely we'll be camping out."
"Lovely." Francis murmured bitterly, leaning against the front door.
"If we assume it's something like that, then we should probably start coming up with a plan." Soren urged. "Like who's going to stay at base and act as guards, who's going to be flag searchers, that sort of thing. Also, I think it would be a good idea to operate in teams of two, that way we're not all alone, and if we get ambushed it'll be easier to get out of it."
"Wait wait wait, hold on a minute." Roderich protested. "All of you are coming up with these things based on the assumption that this is going to be that type of challenge. What if Elizaveta's wrong, and it isn't even remotely related to capture the flag? Should we really be putting all of our strategy into one person's inference?" He argued. "We should be spending more time trying to figure out exactly what the challenge is, before we start planning." Hushed whispers were flung around the room, debating the basis of Roderich's accusation.
"Well, I don't know about you guy's, but boring challenge or not, I'm sticking with her." Gilbert said firmly over the noise. "I uh, I mean if we're picking sides now." He finished awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Elizaveta gave him a surprised look, as if she couldn't believe the albino boy was actually agreeing with her.
"Fine then." Ludwig called over the noise. "All in favor of taking Elizaveta's idea and proceeding with planning step to the right side of the room. All in favor of taking more time to re-evaluate the challenge step to the left side."
"No i-it's OK!" Elizaveta insisted, glancing around frantically as people began to take their sides. "I agree with Roderich, it's probably best that we think this over a little more. It would be a waste to do so much planning and then be wrong, wouldn't it?"
"Bullshit." Gilbert spat. "You're right and you know it. Honestly, what are you doing, agreeing with that Austrian prick?"
"Shut up." She snapped defensively. "I can change my mind if I want. I don't want any division in the group." Gilbert looked away, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Fine. Whatever." He muttered.
"Elizaveta, don't fight with Gilbert." Feliciano murmured, breaking out of the circle that had formed around the arguing pair to lay a hand on her shoulder. "That won't solve anything either." Elizaveta nodded, lowering her head.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to cause problems." She apologized earnestly.
"Thank you, Feliciano." Ludwig said warmly, smiling down at the golden-eyed brunette. Feliciano grinned cheerfully.
"Ve~ well I don't like seeing everybody fight!"
"You're such a good boy." Antonio cooed, ruffling Feliciano's hair and eliciting a laugh from the Italian.
"Aww, aren't you nice Antonio." Francis chuckled. "Don't tell me you're sweet on our little Feli?" He asked innocently.
"Like hell I'd let him have my brother!" Romano snapped. A handful of amused snickers echoed around the room at the boy's outburst.
"No don't worry, he is adorable but you're like a little brother, aren't you Feli?" Antonio smiled brightly, wide grin lighting up his vibrant green eyes.
"Ugh, are you guy's seriously having this conversation?" Gilbert snickered, clearly already having pushed off the spat with Elizaveta. "Lame."
"Don't be sore just because he's not your little brother." Antonio chided, hugging the smaller boy.
"My stomach." Lukas groaned. "Oh God it's just to sickening." More laughter at this.
"Hah! I don't care about that. Obviously I've got the best little brother. Adn we're actually related!" Gilbert hooked his arm around the shoulders of an annoyed looking Ludwig.
"No way!" Antonio cried. "That's not fair, just because you're related." Gilbert stuck out his tongue.
"Tough."
"Alright, knock it off you two." Ludwig muttered, pushing his brother off of him. "Anyway, I think for now, it's best not to discuss it until we have everyone here. We're missing Yao, Kiku, Ivan and Matthew, and I don't want them left out of this discussion. Come, let's call this meeting to an end and have dinner."
"Here here!" Soren called enthusiastically.
"Hey! I've got an idea!" Tino exclaimed. "Why don't we all make dinner together? Francis, Antonio and Feliciano, you all can tell us what to do, and we can work in stations. It'll be much faster then having them do all the work alone."
"I'm all for that." Soren agreed. "Anyone else?"
"I think it sounds like fun." Elizaveta piped up.
"J'st tell us wh't to do." Berwald nodded.
"But isn't the kitchen a little small to fit all of us?" Romano protested. Feliciano smiled at his brother, pulling a stack of cutting boards out of the cabinets.
"Ve~ well as long as we clean the stations, we can have people working at the coffee table. Plus the island provides a lot of room, not to mention the counter space itself. And some stations won't need a surface for work, as long as they have bags to throw the scraps in."
"Perfect." Antonio said enthusiastically. "Alright here's what we need to do…"
The house was a blur for a good hour after that, as the group worked together to prepare dinner. He couldn't say peeling apples was the easiest thing he'd ever done, but he clearly was having less trouble then Lukas, who, despite his best efforts, kept peeling them in chunks.
The noise of the chattering students, mixed with the pounding music of the radio and the pattering of the rain on the windowpanes, gave the house a familiar inviting feeling. And with each laugh and poorly sung song; every crinkled nose and joyful smile, the homesickness that had been plaguing his stomach earlier disappeared, and was replaced with a sweet, blissful warmth.
O ~ O ~ O
At last, it was Friday morning, four days after the official start of the challenge week. Today was the day it all started.
"Matthew, wake up." He mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes as he shook his friend from his slumber on the couch. Matthew groaned, tugging his fleece blanket further over his head. "Matty come on, you gotta get up." Alfred yawned, tugging on the boy's stray curl in an attempt to get his attention.
"Ow!" Matthew whined, slapping Alfred's hand away. "Alright alright I'm up." He grumbled, feeling around the coffee table in search of his glasses. "What time is it?"
"Six thirty." Alfred blinked, adjusting his spectacles as he glared into his watch. "They said they wanted us down by the lakeside at 7:30, and I figured you wanted to shower."
"Thanks." Matthew muttered, rubbing his hand through his bed head and arching his back. Alfred snorted, allowing an amused smile to flit across his lips.
"You've got to stop sleeping on the couch. You're going to ruin your back Matt."
"I'm fine." Matthew insisted, folding his blanket up and getting to his feet. "I'm just not used to it yet."
"Would you please just sleep in your room like a normal person?"
"You know I can't do that." Matthew reminded him, shuffling over to the kitchen, his oversized pajama bottom trailing on the floor beneath his feet.
"Yea, so you've said. But you haven't told me why." Alfred persisted. "What happened with Francis that day Matty, and don't say nothing because you wouldn't be acting like this if it was." Matthew sighed and shook his head, pulling a glass out of the cabinet and turning on the tap.
"I just, need a little time away from him. To sort some things out." He insisted firmly.
"Time away from him, huh?" Alfred rolled his eyes. "So that's why you've practically leapt out of your socks every time someone's mentioned him the last week."
"Oh be quite." Matthew mumbled sourly.
"Matty, you can't avoid him forever." Alfred pointed out, watching as his friend downed the cup of water. "The competition starts today, meaning we're all going to have to work and stay together, weather that's in a group, or our individual pairs. One way or another, you're going to have to find it in you to put what happened back there behind you and focus.
"I know." Matthew replied in a resigned voice. "I can't pull the rest of the house down because I'm being petty. I'll, try my best, I promise Al." He smiled encouragingly and Alfred chuckled, knocking his head gently across the back of the head.
"As long as you're trying. And don't worry, if it get's too hard, Soren and I are here. If you really need a barrier between the two of you, we'll happily provide one."
Matthew huffed indignantly. "Oh shush I can take care of myself. I've done all right so far, haven't I? Besides you two are always itching for a chance to bother Francis."
"This is true." Alfred laughed. "Anyway, get going and shower, before everyone else wakes up. I think Arthur was stirring when I got a up about ten minutes ago."
Matthew nodded, shooting him a curious glance. "Speaking of Arthur, how are things going?" Alfred raised his eyebrows.
"No different then normal. Still can't stand him, he's as much of a pain in the ass he's always been."
"Really?" Matthew's mouth twisted into a small 'o' of surprise. "I had been under the impression you two were starting to get along."
"Yea, not really." Alfred muttered. I've just gotten better at keeping myself from hitting him, that's all." Well, it was true. The hostility was still there, obvious as always, although maybe they had become even the smallest bit more civilized with each other. But that was beside's the point. If you ignored all the times they had actually been forced to get along, they still did nothing but argue.
"Well, at least there's that much." Matthew chuckled. "And Soren… well he told you about what happened weeks ago, right?"
"Yea." Alfred nodded. "I thought everything had been worked out, but yesterday Lukas came bursting into the house, insisting that he hadn't seen Soren, and literally two minutes later, Soren showed up, asking where Lukas had gone. He said they'd met up in the hallway and Lukas ran away from him for no reason, but I'm thinking Soren might have said something about the cross to him."
"Figured he would." Matthew rolled his eyes. "Well, in any case, I'm going to hurry upstairs. Are you just going to stay down here?" Alfred nodded, rubbing his temples.
"Yea, I think I'm going to lay down on the couch. Wake me up when you get back down here."
"Alright." Matthew agreed. "Later."
One hour later, Alfred stood by the lakeside, donned in a navy blue shirt and jeans, his new bomber jacket clutched tightly around him, and the scarf his mother had sent him wrapped tightly around his neck. The sky was clear, the air crisp and cold, as a wind buffeted against the hoards of freezing students who stood gathered around a man on a podium.
"Welcome students," their headmaster boomed, "to the second challenge of the year. As many of you may have figured out, and many may not have, the challenge is a friendly game of capture the flag." The group erupted into cheers. Alfred glanced at Elizaveta, who was smiling proudly a little way's over, as Francis and Antonio praised her for her forethought. Even Gilbert was smiling a little at the announcement, despite his insistence that capture the flag was a boring child's game. Alfred let out a 'whoop' of enthusiasm, the noise mixing in with the chanting of the other students. He was freezing, shaking down to his boots, but his blood rushed with excitement and adrenaline.
"The rules of this game are fairly simple. The object is to take an opponents flag, and return back to the school without having your own flag taken. Throughout the expanse of the forest, we have set up flagpoles, flying the crest of the team it belongs to. It is the job of each team, to protect their flag, as well as take the flag of another team. Each team has an approximately one-mile radius from one flag to the next. You are allowed five bags total, as well as a tent, and whatever you can carry not in a backpack."
"Also, we will be supplying flares to each team. When and if you are able to take another teams flag, you are required to set off the flare to let the other teams know that a flag has been captured. However, you are not safe until your entire team is at the entrance of the school, and you have the flag in hand." The headmaster paused, pulling his scarf more closely around his chin. "One last thing. You are not allowed to remove your team's flag from the flagpole and put it, for example, in a tree. It must remain there at all times, unless stolen by another team. Failure to follow these rules will result in automatic disqualification. Are we understood?"
A communal 'yes' echoed across the students. "Excellent." The headmaster nodded. "Then go, you all have half an hour to be back down here with your things and team mates for the start of the challenge. You will be given a GPS tracker in order to find your flag. If you come across a flagpole on your way in, you are not allowed to take it unless you yourself have already set down camp, and the team who's flag it belongs to is already there. The challenge will end tomorrow at six in the evening. Good luck, to all of you." And with a wave of his hand, he sent them off.
"We only have half an hour!" Ludwig yelled over the noise of the other conversing teams. "Everyone hurry back and find the largest backpacks we have. Gather essentials first, and then we will focus on more remedial things. Is that clear?"
"Yes sir!" Feliciano saluted, giving the boy a lopsided grin. Ludwig nodded.
"Alright then. Is everybody ready?"
The team let out an uproarious cheer, and Alfred pumped his fist into the air. Ludwig smiled approvingly.
"Good. Now let's go. We have a competition to win."
O ~ O ~ O
A/N: It has begun, finally! XD
HISTORY TIME! :D
Ok, so regarding Alfred's explanation: "well he loves his kid no matter what, and is always watching over them" This DOES have historical um... what's the word... well never mind it's tied to essentially the long period of time where Britain essentially ignored the colonies, prior to the rule of I believe Charles the II *is to lazy to check her APUSH notes* seriously, they really didn't give a crap about anything they did. That of course, changed after the French and Indian war, an event most historians actually admit as the true beginning of America, not the signing of the declaration of independence. This was really the first time America was like "He I can take care of myself, fuck yes!"
Of course, after the war, Britain began watching the colonists more closely, and that's when they started to get angry, because, despite how they're relationship is portrayed in the fandom, America LIKED being left alone by Britain. It let him smuggle with Spain and France freely, and he raked in a lot more money when Britain wasn't on his tail. This time of salutary neglect has always made me question the people who insist their like a father and son, because no good father would ignore their child for that long, and no kid would be OK with that. Brothers, on the other hand is a little different. Kind of always there, but not breathing down your neck, like Britain was, at least until after the war. There's also the grudge to take into consideration...
NOW. The adopted brothers thing. I'm one of those people who really can't see America and England as actually being directly related, for personal and historical reasons. First off, although Britain may have been the first country to set real roots down in America, France and Spain also had control over large portions of the unexplored country, and the spanish had been there long before Britain had. So in that case, wouldn't France and Spain be his brothers too? Well, of course they're not. There's also my own theory that America and Canada are actually related to Denmark and Norway, but we're going to ignore that for now... XP ( I mean seriously, does America honestly look a thing like Britain?Xd) As far as history goes, people forget a lot of the time, that it wasn't just the English that inhabited the colonies. The dutch, the Germans, the Irish, and numerous other people of from all spans of europe lived there, including African Americans, Asians, and the the Native Americans.
The colonies were THE most diverse speck of land in the world. And then you look and Britian, and it's the English, the Scottish, the Welsch, etc. There was no diversity, not just there, but in all the countries of europe. My thinking, is that because he had all these other roots, it's impossible for America to be directly related to Britian. Again, making them more brothers. There's also the fact (leaving history for a moment) that America CHOOSE Britain in the anime, to be his brother. That doesn't mean they're related, it means a boy found another little boy on the street and took him home for the family to take care of, and began calling him brother. Adopted brothers, in a sense. Not blood related, not connected by parents, etc.
Ok, so that's my rant... sorry I wanted to explain it, plus my APUSH teacher was describing America and England as a mother and a daughter this past week and I just kept wanting to jump out of my seat and be like "NO." XD
Phew, well I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! :D See you soon!