"America, are you sure we're going the right way?" Britain grunted, forcing a branch out of his path. France gave a few small, weakened jumps forward so he was standing beside me on the forest path.
"Amérique, I am 'aving some doubts about all zhis..." He murmured quietly. I shook my head.
"France, I know where he is."
"Oh really? Zhen where is 'e?"
"I... Don't know," When both him and Britain opened their mouths to protest I rapidly continued, "Not exactly! I can feel him. I know what direction he's in; not the exact place, or how far away it is." We had crossed into German territory a few days ago, so neither France nor Britain could sense him either. The only lead we had was my own instinct as a brother, a twin. And I knew if I screwed up, I wouldn't hear the end of it anytime soon.
"Bloody git..." Britain mumbled, but didn't complain any further.
I silently thanked the British for not arguing. I hardly understand the connection between Mattie and I myself; I don't think I could explain it properly if anyone asked about it.
"Angleterre, are you alright?" France asked Britain somewhere behind me.
"Shut up, Frog, and worry about your own bloody self for a change."
I began muttering to myself as I forced my way through the bracken, yelling as one branch came back and whipped against my cheek. I felt a slow stream of something warm start forming on my cheek.
I raised my hand, running it over where the sensation was, and pulled it away. It was thinly coded in a crimson liquid. Before I could complain about it, though, I felt a numbing sensation run through my right arm. Then, almost directly afterwards, my left arm went too. I can't complain about a scratch. Not while Mattie must be going through pain a hundred times worse than whatever bracken can inflict on me.
"Hang on, Mattie... We're coming..." I breathed, whipping my face with my sleeve and continuing on before either Britain or France could ask why I had stopped.
"Just hang on..."

~America's PoV~

"I don't have a sad past. I don't have a bright, or mysterious, costume. I don't have a mask. I don't have a mortal enemy. The military isn't useless, and New York isn't the setting. I'm not young, or even special. I don't have superpowers. I'm not a superpower. I'm not a hero, I am the Saviour."

My eyes snapped open. What was that? I swear I had heard a voice just now... Who had it been? It was so brief; the short speech spoken in a voice I didn't recognize.
"Al?" A voice asked. I turned towards the speaker. "Are you alright? You were muttering in your sleep."
"Yeah, I'm fine, Mattie. Just a dream is all," I breathed, "Go back to sleep. You need it."
"You're sure?" He asked. He sounded so worried... I should be the one worrying about him. Not the other way around...
"Really, I'm fine. You need your energy, Mattie. Go back to sleep." My brother didn't answer, only flopped back down on his side and closed his eyes. I waited a few minutes, until his breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm, before I kicked my legs over the side of the bed. As silently as I could, I got up.
It's been several days since he's gotten any memories back. I've been keeping him close, just in case, but I need some fresh air...
I walked through the dark halls, feeling my way with the walls. I didn't want to turn on the lights incase they woke up Mattie.
I sighed as I got to the large glass doorway, jumbling for the handle and pulling it open. Almost right away, a cold wind whipped me in the face. I stumbled back a few steps from the force, looking down so the wind wasn't blowing directly into my glasses-less eyes. After adjusting to the weather, I stepped outside, immediately going over to the edge of the balcony.
I leaned against the mahogany railing, staring into the starry night sky.
"I'm not a hero, I am the Saviour... What does that mean? I always say I'm the hero, and I am, but.." I heard a small bark behind me, cutting off my train of thought.
Turning around, I saw the young Border Collie puppy I had taken in a few months ago, her unique red and silver eyes twinkling up at me.
I had found her on the side of the road, alone, and once I had spotted her I just couldn't walk away. So she was the newest member of the family, between the States and I.
"Hey girl..." I muttered, kneeling down. She trotted up, licking my outstretched hand. "I still need to find a name for you, don't I?" I laughed lightly at the feeling of her small tongue on my hand. I ruffled the matted fur around her ears, sitting down with my back against the wooden posts. The puppy yipped, trotting over to my guitar, which was leaning against the side of the house.
"You sure love that, don't you?" I grinned, my mind taken away from the dream as I stood up, walking over and grabbing the instrument before going back to my spot and sitting down.
"I really need to learn how to say 'no' to ya before you learn to talk, little dudette..." I said absentmindedly as I strummed a few random chords, swiftly tuning it.
She cocked her head, laying down against my leg, her eyes closing blissfully at the smooth sound of the acoustic.
"Now, what should I play..."
A song immediately came to mind; one that had been written for an old movie. One I had always loved, that told the story of the Western States, in the old days. Only, it was from the perspective of a wild mustang.
While I had to follow along with the way the whole country was changing - more so with the big-city states than the wild west, a part of me had always remained in the saddle, on the rolling hills in the country. And that movie was another connection to my old life.
Quietly, I began playing the song, singing the lyrics. Even though I hadn't heard them in years, I still remembered every word, every note. I never really understood that with music; it had an almost magical way of always sticking with you over time.

"Sound the bugle now,
Play it just for me.
As the seasons change,
Remember how I used to be.
Now I can't go on,
I can't even start.
I've got nothing left,
Just an empty heart.
I'm a soldier,
Wounded so I,
Must give up the fight.
There's nothing more for me.
Lead me away.
Or leave me lying here."

~Canada's PoV~
I again woke up to a muffled sound. Turning over in my covers, I blinked to focus my eyes.
"...Al?" I called out to the darkness.
No answer.
I called again.
"Alfie?"
Again, nothing.
"America, where are you?"
By now, I had kicked off the blankets and stood up. I thought he said he was fine! Where is he?
I heard someone talking, but not normally. That's Al's voice... I realized, remembering it among the scarce number of voices I remembered that had a name pairing.
Slowly, I followed it, struggling a little from my wobbly sleep-legs.
Eventually I reached a door I hadn't seen yet, that led outside. Alfie was sitting there, with a wooden thing in his grip that he was using to make the... What was it? I thought, forcing through the sudden pounding of my head that I now realized came whenever I tried remembering something.
Three words came to mind.
That's a guitar, and he's playing it... And singing..?
There was a bundle of pale ginger and white fur curled up beside his leg. An animal..? Since when-?
My thoughts trailed off as I listened to his voice. The words seemed to pull me in, as if I could personally relate to them.
Hoping I could remember something else about who, or what, I was, I zoned everything out except the music.

"Sound the bugle now.
Tell them I don't care.
There's not a road I know,
That leads to anywhere.
Without a light,
I fear that I will stumble in the dark.
Lay right down.
Decide not to go on.
Then from on high,
Somewhere in the distance,
There's a voice that calls,
'Remember who you are.'
If you lose yourself,
Your courage soon will follow,
So be strong tonight.
Remember who you are.
Yeah.
You're a soldier now,
Fighting in a battle.
To be free once more.
Yeah,
That's worth fighting for."

"You're a great singer, Al." I said softly, stepping out from behind the curtain I had started leaning against.
He jerked upwards, staring at me with wide eyes.
"What?! Mattie, ya scared me for a minute there!" A hint of an accent crept into his voice that hadn't been there before. Now that I thought about it, though, it had started appearing at certain parts in the song. Odd... I didn't even notice listening to him sing at first... Maybe I had been used to it before the accident a few years ago..?
"Eh... Sorry, Alfie. I just didn't want to interrupt your song..." I hastily started apologizing. He merely laughed though, shaking his head and mumbling something about 'typical him...' before jerking his head to the side.
"It's fine dude, really. I don't mind, I just didn't know you were there. Come over here." He stood up. The furball, a puppy, had shot upwards excitedly
I obliged, stepping out into the cold night air, the pyjamas he had loaned me fluttering in the breeze.
"Who's this?" I asked, kneeling down and ruffling the pups speckled red face.
"I found her a few months ago, alone. Couldn't just leave her, ya know?" I sensed that he wasn't saying the whole story, but I didn't push the question. There seems to be a reason as to why he does everything, no matter how hidden it may be.
Rather, I simply nodded, standing up and leaning against the railing. He followed suit.
We were silent, standing there together and looking up at the sky.
"We used to ride together all the time, you know," He started speaking suddenly. I turned towards him in surprise, "We just got together and saddled up whenever we felt like it. Sometimes we'd go through the hills, sometimes the woods. Often it would be overnight trips. We did everything together..." Al looked over at me, meeting my gaze sadly.
"I'm sorry, Alfie." I said softly. He shook his head.
"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I know how tough this must be for you. I shouldn't get lost in thought like that. You should worry about remembering who you are before I start throwing a bunch of angsty things on you. It ain't right."
"It's actually kind of nice, hearing about those things," I smiled reassuringly, "Plus, it adds to the mystery." Alfie laughed at that.
"So, you've started thinking of your memory loss as a game, then? Good to know you can take it so easily now."
"Not really... It just makes me want to find out who I am even more," I remembered something I had wanted to ask, "One thing, though... I'm also a Personification. True or false."
"True." He answered immediately, clearly not thinking of the consequences. I nodded before continuing.
"Then, I was asleep for a lot longer than a few years, wasn't I..? True or false." His breathing hitched, catching in his throat, and he doubled over slightly. He let out a cough before hotly replying.
"True... How did you figure that out?" Maple, how the hell do I answer that?
"I just had a feeling that it was longer. I can't really explain it... Just a long term sorrow inside me that feels like it's been caged up for so many years I can't even begin to count how many." I saw him freeze, his arm muscles tensing up. What's wrong with him..?
"A-Alfie, what's-"
"It's nothing. Nothing important, anyways..." He trailed off, once again refusing to meet my gaze. I know he said he couldn't tell me anything, but he's definitely hiding something...
"Are you sure?" I asked gently.
"Yeah."
We stood together in a now awkward silence. His head fell down between his shoulders after several minutes had gone by.
"Look, Mattie, it's just... Sorry."
"You sure are apologizing a lot tonight, Al." I grinned, prodding him with my arm.
An odd feeling ran through it, shuddering down my spine. I paused. It almost felt like my arm wasn't there for a moment. I thought. I wonder if it has something to do with whatever happened to make me fall asleep however long ago...
Breathing became difficult, an exercise, like something was clogging my throat.
"A.. Amer..." I gasped out, not noticing I had used his Personification name.
"Mattie? What's wrong? You're so pale suddenly..."
"I... I don't..." Why the hell can't I breath?!
"Mattie?" My legs shook, before giving out from underneath me, "Matthew!" I dimly heard a startled yelp and paws scampering away when my body crashed to the ground.
"It... Hurts..." I wheezed. Where... Did this come from...? Why does it feel like my arms aren't there? Why does my whole body hurt so much...?
"Matthew, stay awake, damnit..." I cracked my eyes open. Odd... When did they close..?
"A-Al, your hands..." They were covered in a deep, crimson liquid.
"Don't. Don't talk." He grumbled, then proceeding to mumble a few words under his breath. I felt him pull something off my head. What...? Must be his glasses...
I didn't know anything except an unbearable pain as the night sky slowly faded into total dark.

~America's PoV~
What the fuck just happened?
One moment we're talking, and the next thing I know, he just collapses, and his hundred-year-old wounds open up. And start bleeding.
A lot.
I pulled off my bombers jacket hastily, wrapping and knotting it around his left arm. It looks like that's the one bleeding the most... What the hell is going on with him? What's going on with my brother? I need to call the British dude...
I waved my hand, sending small crimson beads flying everywhere before reaching into my pocket.
"Hey girl, go find Kumajiro for me, will you?" I asked the red Collie. She gave a high pitched bark before turning around and galloping into the house in search of the polar bear.
Watching her sprint on her small legs for a few moments, I recollected my thoughts and looked at the screen, dialing England's number and keeping pressure on the arm that wasn't tied with my jacket with my free hand. I clicked on the earpiece I normally always kept on my person. Thank God for Bluetooth... I don't think I could do this with one hand... When the ringing finally ended to the familiar British accent, I drew in a deep breath.
"America? What the bloody hell do you want?"
"MattiefellunconsciousandhisoldwoundshavereopenedandI'mworriedabouthowmuchthey'rebleedinfbecausethey'rebleedingalotandIdon'tknowwhattododude!"
"Slow down, America! I can't understand a word you're saying!"
"We were talking and he just suddenly collapsed and starting saying things about how much it hurt and his old wounds have opened up and they're bleeding a lot and I didn't know who else to call!"
Silence.
"Did you do or say anything to stimulate any memories?"
Now I was silent.
"No. Yes... Maybe?"
"America! I need a straight answer!"
"Well, how the heck should I know?! I just said that we used to go on overnight trail rides together! Nothing about you-know-what!"
"'You-know-what'? Is he still awake? I thought you said he had collapsed?" I heard his disapproval. Could telling him that really be what caused this..?
"No, but he might still be able to hear me!"
"Alright, alright, but what exactly is going on? Calmly, please. I don't need you to be rabbiting on." You're causing unnecessary babble by saying you don't need it though...
"He's bleeding from the cuts on his arms and throat, and all legs and arms look like they're numbed again."
"I'll be there as soon as I can, America. Just... Try to stop the bleeding. And check for any teargas. If he looks like he's numbing up again, there must be some still in his body that's just come out somehow. Wounds are one thing, but paralyzing effects don't just happen to us like that."
"Right... Please hurry, Iggy... This is... Giving me unwanted déjà-vu..." I clicked off the bluetooth, before going back too Mattie.
"Unrelenting and unbreakable..."
"What?" What's he saying?
"You did the best you could, and it still wasn't good enough..." He muttered. His head tossed to the side, his back stiffening, "Get me out...!" That's when everything fell into place. But how? He shouldn't be remembering this! Not yet!
"Mattie, you aren't there anymore, dude! It's just a dream!"
He didn't respond, but fell still at my voice.
"I need to get him inside..." I thought out loud, picking him up as carefully as I could. Checking for signs of that teargas would just have to wait until he had calmed down.
He let out a short, pain-filled scream as I moved his body.
"I know, bro. I'm sorry. I know it hurts." I told the Canadian repeatedly.
"Unrelenting and unbreakable..." There it is again. I wonder what it means?

A/N: Ok, screw an official chapter format. Things keep popping up that change it. XD
I'm not giving them a break. Poor Mattie's done hardly known anything so far except... Well, falling unconscious... Or falling asleep... Or getting dizzy... Or losing his perfect vision...
Pfffffffft, WHAT. I'M NICE TO MY CHARACTERS. HONESTLY, I REALLY DO LOVE THEM. WHETHER THEY'RE ACTUALLY MINE OR NOT. (Only OC thus far is the pup. Deemed that necessary.)
I'm also starting to run out of ideas as to how to say that he's gone under. It's gonna get repetitive, sadly...
At least he'd get good at collapsing to the point he doesn't hit his head, maybe..? To be perfectly honest, I wasn't planning on this happening (yet). It just kinda took off on it's own after Mattie saw the puppy. So, hopefully it's not too awkward.
Still~~~
SO MANY FOLLOWERS! o-o
YOU GUYS ARE SO FREAKING AWESOME!
I present all you awesome peeps with Doitsu's Majestic Potato.
I just realized I've been forgetting to say this for the past couple chapters... HOPE Y'ALL ENJOYED!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sound the Bugle - Bryan Adams does.
Or, at least, he owns the singing rights to it...
It's from my favourite childhood movie, Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron; which also happens to be my first animated movie. In my own memory, at least...
Yeah.
I don't own it.
That's the point here. XD
I just thought it was a good fit for those two right now...
Sorry if any of the lyrics are wrong. I do them myself instead of googling them, for whatever reason, so a couple could be messed up. It's a pretty clearly worded song though, so I doubt it, but...
I'll be implementing a lot of varying songs for some moments. Hopefully that doesn't bug anyone... I just feel like it adds to the moment, somehow... Also, lyrics'll be centered on the page, whether one of the dudes are singing them or not...
(Plus the moments are fun to write, so... BONUS! XD)
Yeah.
Patriotic-Canadian-Fangirling-musical-Equestrian-author-who-loves-to-draw.
MY LIFE, EVERYONE. XD
LATAH!

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P.S: You guys are Prussia-awesome.
JUST DON'T TELL PRUSSIEPIE I SAID THAT!
*France in the background hon-hon-hon-ing*
I read all your guys' reviews, too. I'm just highly forgetful so I might not respond every time... Sorry 'bout that... n.n; I do really love and appreciate the support, though, even if I don't directly acknowledge it.
I try my best but.. *grumble* Stupid ADHD...
Oh well. I've dragged this on long enough.
Now, for the LAST time~
YOU GUYS ARE SO TOTALLY AWESOME!
LATAH PEEPS!