Author's Note: I'm really trying to make this chapter not to sound like an US/UK one… but I can't help it! TT^TT When this chap is finished… I'll think of something to distract me away - action.

…hopefully. *headdesk*

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Chapter 3

April C.E. 2063, World Meeting

Four months. It had been four months since he last saw that smiling face. When he had lunged into him after his sudden outburst, and dragged him out. Four months.

Yet it seemed like a century for him.

Several days after New Year, Alfred hadn't come to the World Meeting. He'd asked Matthew about it, but the only answer he ever got was that the young nation had been sick and couldn't attend the meeting.

Wars had been getting worse ever since January, and now it's getting like Hell in some parts of the Earth. Al had come the day after, and he was about to ask him when he saw those blue eyes behind the glasses.

Alfred's eyes. After several centuries, those eyes looked… lifeless. His whole figure had looked like someone who hadn't slept for days, and when he did smile, it was a forced, unnatural smile. Unlike the one he usually had on his face. When he was asked for his opinion about something, he answered. But the answers had been short and – yeah, just like that. No crazy or impossible ideas that usually came from his mouth.

Arthur didn't have any idea why, or what had happened that changed Al so drastically, even up until now. But that was what he usually told people whenever he was asked about Al.

To be really honest… he had. Or probably had. He didn't know which one was the correct one. Well he hoped that maybe he knew… because at least it would help to ease his worry a bit.

Here they were, sitting inside the meeting room. Kiku was the main speaker now, standing at the end of the table. He himself was located in the middle, while Alfred was seated almost at the end of the row.

He threw a quick glance at the younger man, examining his profiles. For common people – or they who didn't know him well enough – Alfred looked normal, nothing wrong. But Arthur had spent years, even centuries, to be able to read him.

Fatigue. That one thing was clear as a day. Those shoulders, which were always high because of the overflowing enthusiasm, were now slumped. Sure, he acted like his usual self in front of the other nations, but it was hard to fool eyes that used to belong to a pirate.

When Al usually attended every single meeting ever since it was first held, these four months he had skipped some. At first it was once a month, then it gradually increased into twice a month, three times a month and four times at its worst. Although he never skipped for more than four times.

The Briton had suggested that he stayed at home and think of a way to get better more than twice. But every time, his advice was ignored. He knew that telling the American to stay back and let the other do the job was probably impossible… at least Al had to take a rest sometime.

That was what he always thought.

Shaking his head slightly to clear those thoughts, Arthur returned his attention to Kiku. His mind seemed to have another plan though, as few moments later he drifted off into the younger blond again. Just, this time about the government.

News about the USA appeared and disappeared in the newspapers, be it the government, the economical issues or political issues.

Once, Ivan had approached him after the meeting had ended. Alfred had gone somewhere, and they were the last nations inside the room. He'd been tidying up his files and documents, and hadn't really paid any attention to his surrounding until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He could feel his breath hitch in his own throat, and he summoned enough courage to look up. "Yes, Ivan?"

"Da, Arthur." The huge nation had returned smoothly. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Ah, I don't know if I'm the wrong one or not here," Ivan withdrew his hand, shoving them into his coat. "But Alfred hadn't looked too well recently. Am I wrong?"

"Um…" Arthur paused to think of an answer, or even an excuse would do. He couldn't tell Ivan that his prediction was that the Russian government caused that, could he? "I don't really know myself. Al didn't say anything, he's just probably tired or so."

The Russian nodded, and smiled politely. "Thanks, Arthur. I was just curious about his condition, that's all." He finished as he got out of the room, leaving the Brit alone inside.

Shuddering, Arthur forced himself to shoo the previous menacing aura off. Did Ivan really not know about Al, or was he just pretending to do so? He then finished all the documents, stacking them up and brought them up to his chest, walking out of the meeting room.

After leaving the documents on his room, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. Searching the letter A, the top of the list was Al's name. Arthur chose not to call the younger blond, texting him instead.

Al, where are you?

He flipped it close again and strolled down the corridor when he paused in front of the washroom. With a quick consideration, he pushed the door and entered it, heading to the mirror. Arthur stared at his own reflection for a moment before turning the tap and washed his face. There was really no reason for him to do so… he just wanted to.

When he got out, he checked his phone, hoping that Al had answered. And yes, Al did answer.

I'm at McD next to the building, Arthur.

The Briton stuffed the phone into his pocket, before striding down the hall to the main entrance. He paused to get his coat from the reception, and then marched out of the building. It took him about five minutes to reach the McD, and when he was inside it wasn't that difficult to locate the younger blond.

Alfred didn't notice Arthur's presence, not until the latter pulled another chair. "Ah," he blinked, "mornin' Arthur."

"Morning, Al." Arthur replied, easing himself into a comfortable position. "Tell me, why are you here?" He asked directly.

"Huh?" The American paused biting, frowning slightly. "What do you mean, why are you here?"

Sighing, the older blond leaned forward, propping his chin with his intertwined fingers. "Alfred, you know what I mean. I've been with you long enough to know that there is something wrong with you - just like you usually know that there is something wrong with me." He stated, and when the American showed the sign to protest he quickly continued, "you'll need more than that to trick me… because even Ivan noticed your condition."

There was nothing but silence for a few moments, before the taller man dropped his hamburger and let himself fall backwards. "Hell, Arthur," he muttered quietly, eyes downcast. "I know you'd notice sooner or later, but… can you believe me if I say that what I'm facing is fucking important? Because, well, I need to get this fixed quickly or…" Shuddering, Al grabbed his hamburger back and took a bit to calm himself down. No, nobody should know about this; not Ivan, and absolutely not Arthur. He had to face this, alone. With no one's help. It was his own problem… and he'd troubled the Briton enough already.

"You know you can always tell me, Al," Arthur tried to coax the blond sitting opposite him, "I don't know if that could help or not, but…"

"Thanks… but no thanks, Artie." Alfred cut him firmly, looking straight to Arthur's green eyes. "I've caused you enough trouble; and please… help me by not helping me. I've faced this before, and I'll face it again if I have to, and then I'll win. Just believe in that… and that'd mean a lot to me. I mean it."

The former pirate kept quiet until Al's statement was finished, and even if it had he still kept his mouth shut. All he did was returning Al's steely look with his own, before he gave in and chuckled lightly. "You know… I'm kind of proud of you now - no sarcasm in that." Arthur leaned back into his chair, and resumed, "but when I think you've had enough of it… don't you dare run away."

"Hah." Was all Alfred could say before he burst into a fit of laughter, which half-surprised the older man. "Seriously, Artie," he managed to say between laughs, "a hero like me won't need anyone's help until it got too far across the line!" About a minute later the laughter receded, and he wiped his wet eyes because of too much laughing. "But yea, don't you worry. I'll be just fine on my own… and I'll tell you when I really need some help, 'kay?"

"Sure." The Briton shrugged easily and stood up from his chair, grabbing his coat. "I'll be going now, then. Take care of yourself, Al." He finished as he began to head towards the entrance.

Alfred waved back slowly as he watched the older man disappear behind the glassy door. Sighing, he gulped down the rest of his Coke in a swig. After doing so he wiped his mouth clean before finishing his half-eaten hamburger.

Several minutes later found himself outside the McD, staring at the spacious street. It was noon already, about 1 or 2 p.m. It was snowing lightly around the city, but he didn't really pay any heed to any of his surroundings. All Alfred had in mind was about his country, and how to solve the problem it was currently facing.

The American had refused the Englishman's help, because… well… many reasons, this and that. When it came down to the personal level, though… he just wanted to show Arthur that he could also stand up on his own without the latter's help. It wasn't like, 'Hey look, I'm just so much better from you!' but more like, 'See? I can do it myself also… so let me try to finish it withot your help so I can improve.'

What was it… oh yeah. Never trouble another for what you can do for yourself.

And so Alfred slowly trotted back to his hotel with his head full of things. It was exhausting him off, all those works, but they also need to be done. Else what… he wouldn't want to think about the possibilities.

When he reached the front of his room, Alfred unlocked it and then closed the door with a soft click. Flicking on the switch, few of the lamps flickered on, illuminating the room just enough that he wouldn't trip or fall over something.

He hung his coat on the provided pole and slumped on the sofa. The American stared blankly at the ceiling, not even blinking. Taking off his glasses, he placed it on the table, covering his eyes with his left hand. Al threw a sideway glance to the stacks of files that stood upon the desk with a loathing-like look, before standing up with a grunt.

Arthur… well at least he didn't really know what was happening. But knowing the Brit, he wouldn't stop just like that, and probably would be persistent to find out the truth. No, Alfred promised himself, I would never tell him. Let him find out by himself… and I can do it on my own.

Letting out a defeated sigh, the young nation turned on the table lamp and began to work on the papers.

****

Arthur was sitting inside his hotel room with a cup of tea held tightly in his right hand. Outside it was snowing, and it reminded him somehow with England. It must be raining now… He thought, I wonder if I'll be able to see Canada in a sunny day.

That week's World Meeting took place in Quebec, Canada, and as it was still winter the rain was in the form of snow. It wasn't strange though… Canada was even nearer to the North Pole than America was. Tomorrow would be the last day of the meeting, and after that the nations would all return to their homeland. As for himself… for some reason he missed England more than usual. He had no idea why…

Shaking his head, the Briton sipped back the rest of the tea and brought both the cup and its platter into the kitchen. He returned to the chair and turned to face his laptop, pushing the Wi-Fi button. The hotel had the wireless facility, so why not use it? Besides, it was not like he had to pay anyway.

After the Google homepage appeared on the screen, Arthur only gazed at it for several seconds before snapping out of his dozing state. Tapping his fingers on the table, he pondered what should he check on… not about news of his country… so… oh yeah.

He'd check on America.

All those news he had read about America's condition had just been like that, nothing special, nothing more. The head editor probably thought that it was probably enough for the readers… but for Arthur, it wasn't. There was something… very small… that was hidden inside the words, that he was certain. He couldn't find it out by himself even though he had searched every corner of the articles. And Alfred wasn't really helping with not wanting to tell anything.

The American wasn't usually like that. Usually with the exact amount of coaxing – or force, sometimes – he would spill most of it out.

So Arthur typed on the search engine and waited for the result.

What he had been expecting was a lot like the result. Nothing too special, really… but one link caught his attention. The Briton frowned, and clicked on it. After a very quick scan, it wasn't a news about the USA… it was a blog. How come did his intended topic ended like this?

He scrolled to the bottom of the page, where one comment took his attention.

ragged-jaws: Hey, great story! XD And it's reached here, so lemme guess. You're nearing the climax, yea? :D
aguila-flame: Yep you're right! I guess I'm being too explicit here… so I'll try to hide it more now. And ahaha, thanks!

What the… Arthur thought confusedly. What does this have to do with America? He scrolled up again to check the date of the post.

Rise of the Fallen Eagle
29th December 2062, 11.47 p.m. Posted by aguila-flame

Oh. So he just had to go back to the previous posts to read all of them to find out what they were talking about… nice. Just a total waste of time.

But nevertheless, the Briton returned to the blog after he was clad in his pajamas, frowning all along. He returned to the very first post that had the tag of RotFE, and began reading from the top of the page.

The rest of that night, which meant about three more hours before midnight, Arthur spent reading the done chapters. Though it kinda hurt his eyes to read a long story in American English, he forced himself to do so… and when he reached the page that he visited at the first time, he knew the meaning of the comment. Or kind of.

****

A/N: If anyone is interested in the post (the story), I'll put it up somewhere… but big chance is, not here. I'm trying to plan the route… but I just can't! TT^TT And let's see… there's, like, one quote here? It's pretty obvious, I think. Just point it out and I'll credit you in the next chapter! Also if anyone noticed grammar errors and such, feel free to point it out - I need people's help, of course :)