*gasp* A new chapter! I finally got the motivation to write this OTL

Also, I've gone back through and replaced the human names with country names, because it made more sense since this isn't an AU... (And I kept getting Arthur/Alfred mixed up .) I also made a few other small changes in the first two chapters, nothing hugely important.

America knelt on his kitchen floor, wondering what the heck had just happened. It had been perfect. Those few minutes, that could have lasted a lifetime for all America cared. He had actually been perfectly happy, for the first time since he had... no, he didn't want to think of that, didn't want to think of the pain he had caused him. England. 'The United bloody Kingdom'. And even now, having a small taste of being left, he couldn't imagine what England must have gone through. So much pain, so much sadness, enough to cause someone to drink to forget, to still be drinking to forget so many years later. Thinking of all this now made America nauseous, and it wasn't just because he was drunk.

Of course, he could see why England had left. Could understand perfectly that he deserved to have that moment, the moment he had been waiting for all these years, ripped away from him. That didn't stop it from hurting, as he looked around at the fluorescent green cake smeared all over the kitchen floor. At the spot where he had laid on top of England mere minutes ago. And he still couldn't believe that he had kissed him. He was sure it was him that had kissed England, not the other way round. England must have been drunk, caught in the moment. That was the only reason that he had reacted in that way... And they had been so close to... No, America wouldn't, couldn't think about it. Instead, he stood and decided to distract himself with cleaning, a task that would have usually irritated the hell out of him. But he needed something else to think about, and he needed to at least remove the things that were most likely to trigger those painful thoughts.

England ran. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't care. He just needed to get as far away as possible. He was vaguely aware that the people he passed were looking at him strangely, but he wasn't bothered by them. He just kept going.

He was just beginning to calm down and realise that he had no idea where he was or how he was going to get home, when he ran into someone. Literally. He stumbled and barely managed to stop himself falling over. "Sorry." He mumbled, looking up at whoever it was, then realising that everything was blurry. Realising that he was crying, he automatically brought up his arm to wipe the tears away, and saw the cake on the sleeve of the uniform that wasn't his. He felt like he was going to throw up.

"England-san?"

"Veh~ England, why are you wearing big brother France's uniform?"

Something soft was pressed into England's hand, but he just stared blankly at the fluorescent green icing that he could just about see through his clouded eyes. Someone nearby coughed, almost irritably, and England was snapped back to reality. He soon realised that the object in his had was a handkerchief, and he hurriedly used it to wipe away the tears. He could now see that he had run into Japan, who looked a little flustered. Italy and Germany were standing either side of Japan, and they were looking at him with worried expressions. Well, no, Japan's expression looked pretty much the same as usual, Italy was just staring at him stupidly, and Germany looked stern, tinged with something that looked like pity. None of them were quite sure what to do. Arthur looked guiltily at the handkerchief, which was now mostly green.

"Keep it." Germany said, his voice almost sympathetic, something that sounded odd when England was so used to hearing the German shouting and generally being irritated. There was a slight tone of disgust too, which was understandable considering the state of the handkerchief.

"Germany-san, perhaps we should take England-san back to my place. We were going there anyway, after all."

"Ja, that is a good idea."

By this point, England was on the verge of collapsing, not really paying attention to what anyone was saying. He was vaguely aware of Germany picking him up, having clearly worked out that he was incapable of moving. Staring blankly at the ground, England tried to think of anything that wasn't America.

A while later, America had managed to completely clear any evidence of what had happened with England. He had also removed everything from the party the night before, since it had just been a celebration of the anniversary of the day he had broken England's heart. Thinking of it that way was new to him, unfamiliar, but it somehow felt right. As if he had been aware of it all along.

Suddenly, America became aware of something in the room, another presence. He spun around, looking for what it was. He was just wondering if it could be one of England's imaginary friends when he saw the polar bear. It was sitting on his floor, staring up at him. America thought he heard someone talking, but it was too quiet to make out. The polar bear turned to look at something, seeming confused. "Who're you?" It asked thin air in a squeaky voice.

"I'm Canada!" Canada slowly came into focus, looking disgruntled. America was used to his brother suddenly appearing. Like a ninja,he thought a little jealously. If I could do that, I would be way more heroic! And if England hardly knew I was there, it might make him stop hurting... However, the thought of England forgetting about him made him feel nauseous again. Then he became vaguely aware that Canada was trying to get his attention. He forced a grin onto his face and focused on the Canadian.

"America, can you hear me now?" America nodded. Then something occurred to him.

"Hey, how did you get in?"

"Front door was open, you really need to remember to lock it, anyone could get in."

"Ah." Bloody England must have left it open... wait, bloody? I'm starting to sound like him!

"Anyway, I just saw England..." America started paying full attention now. "He was stumbling around outside, covered in cake and wearing Francis' uniform... I tried to get his attention but I don't think he could see me... Any ideas what was wrong with him?"

"No, no idea." America said, trying to hide his guilt. It didn't work.

"America... he was crying, and I've only ever seen him cry over you."

Now America felt really guilty, and his pain must have shown in his expression, because Canada looked sympathetic. "Look, if something happened between you two, don't you think it would be a good idea to go talk to him?" America thought about this for a moment, then brightened up, his guilt forgotten in an instant.

"Yeah! I'll go talk to him and cheer him up, and I'll be all heroic and awesome, and then everyone will see how amazing I am, and then they'll listen to my plans at meetings..." America was putting his jacket and boots on and moving towards the door, having already completely forgotten Canada. He pulled open the door, locked it behind him, then started running, encouraged by the thought of being a hero. I'll save you, England!

America managed to run halfway down the street before he bumped into someone. Literally. He would have compared it to bumping into a wall, though, since whoever it was didn't move, making America bounce off a little and stumble. Shuddering involuntarily for a reason he couldn't quite explain, he straightened his glasses so he could see exactly who he had walked into.

"Oh, you are still alive, da?"

Fuck, Russia. What the hell is he doing here, he's getting in the way of my heroism- Wait, what did he just say? Russia had his usual creepy grin plastered across his face. America shuddered again.

"Aha, clearly you do not know. Well, you should go ask England what he did then, da?"

America looked confused. Which wasn't unusual for him, but still... Then someone ran up behind Russia, panting.

"Russia, you shouldn't tell America about what England- Oh, uh, hey America..."

"Hey, China." America said through gritted teeth. He was beginning to get irritated now, they were delaying his heroic rescue! And he wanted them to tell him what the hell they were talking about, of course. Russia was still smiling, but China just looked worried.

"China, what exactly has- England- done?" He hadn't expected saying that name to be so difficult. He was supposed to be heroic dammit, not so soft that he couldn't say a name! China was silent for a moment, as if he was thinking, then he sighed.

"I suppose you have a right to know, aru... How should I say this..."

"England replaced your chair with his cursed one, so now you're going to die, da?"

China looked mortified. America just stared at Russia blankly, not comprehending what the Russian had just said. Of course England wouldn't do that to him... He couldn't hate him that much, right? But he had looked guilty earlier, and he had been acting stranger than usual... Could the Brit really do something like that? Yes. He's tried it before. I can't believe he would try to kill me though... I should go ask him, just to make sure. And then if he didn't, I can carry on with my heroic rescue!

"Did either of you see England on your way here?"

"Yes, I think Germany and Italy were taking him to Japan's place, but, America, don't do anything too hasty, he-" China realised that America was already running, in the wrong direction.

"America! You need a map, da?"

Russia held out a map that he 'just happened to have' to America, who ran back, took it, looked at it and ran off again, this time almost in the right direction. China sighed, glaring at Russia half-heartedly and hoping America wouldn't do anything too stupid.

A short chapter again... hopefully the next one will be longer (and be finished quicker) o-o'