What's in a Name

Chapter Five

"What do you mean you don't know where he is?!" Antonio had discarded the plate of food he'd been offered without so much as picking up the fork.

"It's just as I said." England dodged out of the way of Antonio's flailing, trying to get his injured friend to settle back down before he hurt himself any further. Alfred had strategically stepped back from the scene, taking Peter with him to a safe distance. "He ran away. Gil's looking for him now." He ducked from a stray punch, "It's hardly surprising! Lovino was terrified. What did you expect him to do when you got hit like that?!" He ate a forkful of his own food and gave Antonio a look so stern that he stopped his complaints. "Just eat, okay." England gave his friend the smallest of smiles and passed him back his plate.

There was a thud from outside and the door burst open, causing Antonio to nearly inhale his fork and England to jerk towards Peter protectively.

"Found him."

Gilbert stood in the doorway proudly. He was supporting his black and gold helmet on his hip and leant on the doorframe lazily. Lovino was standing behind him. He was as white as a sheet and his brown hair was a mess. He glanced guiltily up at the occupants of the room and then stared back at his feet before being dragged into the room by Gilbert.

"The idiot was hiding at his brother's place." He kicked Lovino's shins, nudging him further forwards, "When I got there he was taking his frustration out on Ludwig. Feliciano was going spare trying to stop him, poor bastard. He says 'hi' by the way."

England nodded in acknowledgment, expecting Antonio to do the same. However, the other man had sat up and hadn't stopped looking at Lovino since he had entered the room with Gilbert.

"Come on gawkers." Gilbert laughed, rounding up the others and pushing them towards the door to the next room, "Give them some space." He whispered to them as a he started to close the door, but not before Alfred had caught a glimpse of Lovino rushing to embrace Antonio and the discarded plate of food falling to the floor as Antonio met his lips with Lovino's.

Alfred squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light of the room. The four of them had crammed into what appeared to be a small bedroom, populated by just a desk, small wardrobe and a bed in the corner. Everything in the room was either plain wood or green and was in the exact same pristine condition as the living room.

"So," Alfred felt an arm drape around his shoulder, "what're you doing here then, Al?" Gilbert smirked at him. The lamp light exaggerated the dark shadows under both his and England's eyes.

"He lives upstairs." Peter bounded forward, knocking the albino's hand away from Alfred as he tried to gain attention from the older men.

"Oh? Is that right?" Gilbert smiled down at Peter, enjoying the chance to patronise the boy. "You know, you're looking more like your brother every time I see you."

Peter scowled, an action that caused Gilbert's grin to widen, "Well you sound more like an old man every time I see you." Peter retorted, wiping the smile off of Gilbert's face.

England sighed. He was exhausted from the evening's activities and wanted to sleep. However, that didn't seem to be an option with things as they currently stood. He slumped down on his bed and stared blearily around the room, wishing that the others would leave, but he knew that wasn't possible while two of his best friends were piecing things back together in the next room. Maybe he'd dreamt it all. That would have been a nice possibility, but utterly preposterous.

"Dude, are you even listening?" Gilbert's annoyed voice echoed into reality in his mind.

"What?" England's attention snapped back to the people in his room. Gilbert was glaring down at him while Peter looked triumphant in the background, and then there was Alfred, standing awkwardly by the door. His blue eyes stood out even in the shadows of the small room and it was only now that England realised just how piercing they were. It was as though they could see through anything.

"Oi! England!" Gilbert shoved his shoulder, "Fuck's sake, man!"

"What?!" England glowered back up at his friend, straightening himself back up on the bed.

"I said," Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, dropping his shoulders in an action that attempted to make him look more relaxed and not so stressed, "what happened after I went after Lovino?"

"Oh." England looked down at the floor, glancing briefly at the rip down his own trouser leg. "Well the boss; that sadistic bastard, he knew that Antonio would get in the way if he tried to get at Lovino. He knew!" He glared at his feet, not wanting to face anyone else in the room. "He left Antonio lying there and completely smashed up his bike. I had to carry him back here on mine, and you know how bloody difficult that is." Gilbert nodded the affirmative, cringing slightly at the prospect of carrying someone, unconscious, on the back of one of their bikes. "Anyway, before I left, the boss, he said that if either Antonio or Lovino go back there then, well, they wouldn't be leaving again in one piece, I'll put it that way."

"Bloody hell."

England whipped round to see Alfred stepping forward out of the shadows, his gaze directed straight at him. He'd momentarily forgotten that the younger man was still in the room and cursed himself inwardly for this mistake. He'd just let some idiot stranger hear about that. What on earth would he think?

But... Alfred didn't look sceptical or scared. In fact, he looked surprisingly sympathetic.

"You guys have it rough, huh?" Alfred smiled weakly down at England and perched on the edge of the bed next him.

England reacted to this in two very different ways:

The first, to be expected, was that he leapt away from Alfred while glaring daggers at him. The second, however, very much shocked not only Alfred, but Gilbert as well. England's face turned a very deep shade of pink (resulting in Gilbert receiving a hefty punch for smirking).

"What the fuck do you know?!" He yelled at Alfred, hiding his blush behind unnecessary anger. "You think that you can just stand there, all high and mighty, and then push your false sympathy on us?! Well I've had enough!"

"Hey," Gilbert stepped in, trying to calm the infuriated blonde, "Alfred didn't do anything. It's not his fault he got caught up in our stupidness."

England's scowl deepened as he let himself slide down the wall to sit on the floor with his head hidden behind his arms. He let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his messy hair, not improving its state in the slightest. Peter plopped himself down next to his brother, glancing between the three other men in the room.

"Look," Gilbert continued, "we need to sort this out. Not tonight though. We're all tired." Alfred was slightly taken aback by Gilbert's change in tone. It was as though his usual Cheshire cat personality didn't exist. "Still, it's a bit hard to do anything while we're all stuck in here." His sly grin returned. "What with those two being all lovey-dovey out there." He motioned towards the door, chuckling under his breath.

England didn't respond. He was completely different to how Alfred had seen him before. His angry persona seemed to have melted away, leaving someone who appeared to be extremely vulnerable. He wasn't weak. No, that was the last word Alfred would have used to describe him. Anyone could tell that even though the man was small in stature, he definitely had some strength behind him.

"Hey." Gilbert leaned in towards his friend, his expression softer again, "Hey, Ar-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" England's head jerked upwards, causing Peter to jump back in alarm. He was positively fuming. His posture had become stiff and angry. He stood up, glaring around the room but not making eye-contact with any of its occupants. "That name is dead! I'm not him anymore. I gave all of that up. I'm England! That's all I can be! Nothing else!"

"England..." Lovino stood by the door, holding it open so that Antonio could see inside while being propped up by two cushions. His expression was stern (if not slightly unfocused) as he looked into England's room, staring down the scowl his friend was still adopting. "I think that it's about time you cooled off." He smiled weakly, attempting to beckon the others out of the small bedroom to join him and Lovino. "Couldn't get me a drink, could you? I'm dying for a beer."

"Ah! Booze!" Gilbert perked up at the mention of alcohol. "Now we're talking!" He grinned and made his way to the refrigerator without bothering to ask England for permission.

England sighed and followed Peter out of the room (he was eyeing up the beer bottles dangerously). He didn't take the bottle Gilbert offered him, knowing what would happen if he started drinking; his past experiences with alcohol had not ended pleasantly, which Gilbert took great pleasure of reminding him of. Instead, he started to boil the kettle and placed a tea-bag in his mug, while Gilbert and Lovino continued the attempts of stopping Peter from stealing their drinks.

Alfred had been standing in the doorway to England's bedroom all the while.

He'd been taken aback by England's reaction to Gilbert nearly calling him by his name. He hadn't even considered that 'England' wasn't actually his name, the same way that the others weren't really 'Spain', 'Prussia' and 'Romano'.

He'd been revelling in this for so long that he's barely noticed as the others gradually got more and more drunk and Peter slowly fell asleep on a cushion that he was sitting on in the corner of the room after sulking from being refused the luxury of an alcoholic beverage. Lovino was trying to stop a drunken Antonio from jumping up to join Gilbert in a (very loud) singing contest, while the tanned man just laughed at his partner's struggles. What he did notice, however, was that England had not joined his friends in their activities, but was instead sitting at the kitchen table drinking a mug of hot tea and reading a book, looking as though he could not hear Gilbert and Antonio's extremely out-of-tune songs.

Taking his cue to leave, Alfred made his way to the door.

"Wait."

He hadn't seen or heard England move; Gilbert's new dance moves to couple with his singing had made sure of that. But when Alfred swivelled around the shorter blonde was standing behind him, now carrying the sleeping Peter, despite his small stature.

"Thanks for today." He hitched Peter further onto his hip so that he wouldn't drop his brother, "For looking after Peter, I mean. And for helping with Antonio." England looked absolutely shattered. Alfred could see his emerald eyes drooping from tiredness as he held up his younger brother. His voice was barely audible over the voices inside the room, but Alfred could tell that his thanks was sincere, if not slightly embarrassed.

"Hey, no problem." Alfred smiled as best he could, trying to reassure the older man, who was so obviously feeling uncomfortable with having to thank him. He turned to the door again but was stopping by a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not finished." England's brow furrowed in concentration as he spoke, not looking at Alfred. He could feel that his face had turned slightly red, but hoped that Alfred couldn't see due to the darkness of the corridor outside. "Look, I'm sorry." He blurted out unceremoniously. "I shouldn't have shouted at you earlier. I was wrong." He paused to glance up at Alfred's surprised expression. "I know you were only trying to comfort me..." He mumbled the last part so that Alfred struggled to hear him at all.

Alfred scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed by England's apology. He'd never heard of a polite biker before. And from his first encounter with the other man, he was the last person he'd expected to ever receive a thanks and a sorry from.

"No sweat." Alfred gave England his best (confused) grin. "I've got college in the morning so I probably should get going."

"Ah, yes." England nodded, still not wanting to look at Alfred, for running the risk of being caught in those blue eyes of his. "But can I ask one more favour?" He rushed out, noting that Alfred was probably just as tired as he was, and wanted to get to sleep.

"Hm?" Alfred tilted his head curiously (much like a child).

"Well, with this lot being how they are, there's no way that they can do it, and I've got to work early tomorrow, so I'm a tad stuck for an option..." He prattled on, letting himself ramble unconsciously. He could feel the heat on his face and willed for it to pass without it coming to the attention of Alfred.

"What's up?" Alfred leant down to look at England's face under his sandy blonde bangs. It must've taken a lot for this cynical biker to ask a favour from the one he had previously labelled as a 'brat', which Alfred appreciated only too well. He knew that he didn't come across as the best person to trust with anything important; he was often classed as 'almost too carefree'.

"Could you possibly walk Peter to school tomorrow?" England finally looked up. His flush would have been only too obvious to most people, but Alfred being Alfred, he just over-looked it, letting England continue with his ramblings. "Normally I'd do it myself, or ask Antonio, but with the circumstances, that's rather impossible. I just thought that, seeing as you have to walk past the school to get to college, it wouldn't inconvenience you too much. And Peter seems to like you too, I mean, you must've worn him out if he's fallen asleep this easily." He lifted Peter up again, emphasising his point.

Alfred held his hands up to stop England from continuing, sensing that he would have carried on talking if given the opportunity.

"Because I'm awesome," England scowled, as expected, "it's absolutely no problem." Alfred finished, laughing slightly at England's reaction to his first comment.

"Oh wow! You look, like, totally beat!" Felicks plopped down opposite Alfred at the table, followed by Toris.

It had been several days since Alfred had promised to take Peter school; and since then he'd somehow been roped into taking the boy home as well. Alfred had always thought that he had relatively high stamina, but this was nothing compared to Peter, who always seemed to full of energy no matter what time of day it was.

The first day he'd made the mistake of ringing England's doorbell and was met by a disgruntled Lovino telling him to "shut up because Antonio's hung over". Peter, on the other hand, was running around making as much noise as possible just so he could annoy his brother's friends even more. Gilbert had apparently left before anyone else had woken up and England had already gone to work, leaving the injured Antonio to be looked after by Lovino and Peter to be taken to school by Alfred.

It had been some time later that day when he'd gotten the message saying "Got to work late, can you pick Peter up? Sorry for any inconvenience." To which his initial reaction had been 'Who on earth texts using proper language?' Then he remembered giving England his mobile number the previous night, just in case something came up.

The next couple of days had run out fairly similarly (over-looking the events that took place when Alfred picked Peter up in the mornings, when Lovino partook in the almost impossible task of trying to stop Antonio from jumping up to answer the door). Lovino had started walking to college with him, deciding that he didn't need to baby Antonio so much. The older man's injuries were starting to heal and he could sit up properly without the aid of several well-plumped cushions, however walking was out of the question according to England every time the two of them spoke in the evenings when he came to collect Peter from Alfred's room.

It wasn't that Alfred found Peter annoying; he'd just never had to babysit anyone before. Matthew was only two years younger than himself, but had somehow learned how to look after himself a lot faster than Alfred had, and therefore ended up looking after his older brother rather than what was usually expected. This was why, Alfred reasoned, he was so tired after the events of the last few days.

"Sounds rough." Toris sympathised.

"Nah." Alfred grinned, chuckling to himself, "It's cool. They're just weirder than I thought."