A/N: It's been such a pain trying to write this chapter. I wanted to have a little more time in between, but I figured there had been enough filler, and it was about time to move on, so I just skipped right on over to christmas. Which sucks, because now I'm in a christmasy mood, and it's just the beginning of November.

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Christmas shopping was always an awkward situation for Alfred.

It was like some secret math equation that he could never figure out. Kiku was always hard because... well, a lot of the stuff in his stores came from Japan, so he had to get him something made in America: this year it was a really warm blanket, because he knew Kiku liked sitting on his porch when it snowed. Francis of course, would take anything you gave him and turn it into some perverse joke, so this year, he was getting a funny card and bit of money, because he wanted nothing to do with what he did with it. When it came to Mattie, Al always liked to do something a little special. This year he was getting a book, a Tim Hortons card, and a polar bear hat he found; speaking of polar bears, he even got Kumakota...Kumajochi...whatever it's name was a biscuit. For the rest if his friends, he usually sent a card with a little something like some chocolate.

And then there was Arthur.

He... never knew what to do for Arthur in all honesty. He wasn't even sure if they were really friends sometimes. So what was he suppose to get him? Maybe something like some new tea flavours, or a cook book... wait no, he did that last year and England hit him with it saying "You think I can't cook, you bloody git?" Yeah, bad idea.

America frowned as he pushed his shopping cart down the isle, one foot planted on the bottom of the cart, the other pushing him forward so he could ride the cart through the store like a giant 5 year old. He scanned the shelves, trying to figure out what to do.

"Having trouble bud?" A voice asked from the other side of the isle. A man, about 26, stood watching Al with an amused expression.

Alfred blinked. "Uh, yeah..."

"Well, here's a tip. Keep it simple, but meaningful. Can't go wrong there. Nothing extravagant, but something that you've thought about."

Alfred pursed his lips in thought. "Makes sense... thanks, dude!"

"No problem." He said as he began to walk away. "Girlfriends can be a pain to shop for."

Blood rushed to Alfred's cheeks. "B-But he's not-!" But the man had already disappeared around the corner. Alfred sighed, the realization that the man was probably right about his dilemma almost depressing. At this point, their "relationship" really was that complicated. They were friends, they were enemies, they were somewhere in between; but he'd admit that he always had and always will care about England. Right now though, he was a pain in the ass.

With a sigh, Alfred decided that he just wasn't going to find anything today. So, he headed to the register, gathered his bags and braved the cold from the mall exit to his crappy old Mustang. Slipping his keys from his pocket, he fumbled with the lock, his arms full of bags hindering his ability to see and move. The key slipped out of his hand, clattering into the light layer of snow, and for the millionth time he mentally kicked himself for not getting a newer car with button lock. Placing the bags on the top of the car, he lowered himself to the ground to find it in the snow. Once found, he stood up, his eyes catching movement in the corner of his vision. Alfred looked to the left; and that's when he saw it. A guy just a few years older then him was loading one into his car. It was freaking huge, Iggy would probably want a smaller one, but the more he thought about it, the more perfect he realized it was.

The moment he loaded everything into his mustang and dropped himself into the cold drivers seat, Alfred took out his cell phone and hit speed dial. After a few ring tones, his brother picked up on the other end. "Hey Al."

"Mattie, I just figured out what to get Arthur for Christmas, but I'm going to need your help..."

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America's footsteps echoed on the hard wood of his home as he stepped inside from the garage. On the way home from the mall, he had called a local supplier and made an appointment to pick up Arthur's present in a few days, before he left for Canada.

Finland was having a Christmas party at his country home this year. He had invited everyone, but of course only a handful could make it. They were the Scandinavians, England, France, Latvia, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Austria, Hungary, himself and Canada. Everyone else had made plans already. Since they were both going, the North American Brothers had decided to meet in Nova Scotia and just go over together. It would be a lot easier to transport England's present that way.

Alfred dropped his keys on his kitchen counter, before dumping his armful of bags lazily onto his couch. He flipped lazily through the tv channels, all he while his mind wandering through his plans. 'So it's the 21st now, I'm leaving for Halifax to on the 23rd..."

Something was wrong.

Alfred shot up from his lounging position on the sofa, his eyes narrowing, searching for something in the dead silence of his home. Something was wrong, different, the air was changing, but he couldn't place his finger on what was wrong, until he heard a low rumble. His heart skipped a beat.,

The rumbling grew and grew, until he could feel it vibrating in the floor boards, shaking the windows, growing and building. The entire house shook violently when it finally clicked; this was it. December 21st, 2012, the planets were alining, the plates were shifting. He could barely register the thought before the tall windows of his living room burst into sharp glass shards, falling to the ground like crystal rain. Alfred dove to the ground, covering his head with his arms. In one flash, he felt as if he were at war again, shrapnel flying all directions, cutting down his men. He didn't let the memory grow though, knowing he could freeze up. So, Alfred pushed himself underneath his coffee table, the closet shelter he could find. The shaking was the worst he'd felt in his life. Ten times were than any earthquake he'd ever felt.

A loud crack roared over the trembling, followed by pounding pain on the top of his head as a piece of his ceiling fell on top of the table, breaking the wood. Alfred released a sharp cry, barely heard over the noise, as slowly the darkness consumed him...

Ring riiinnnggg...

The sound was coming toward him, like it was underwater and slowly surfacing. America groaned, a splitting headache, peircing through his head. He slowly opened his eyes, startled to find himself buried under the wreckage of what use to be his coffee table and part of his ceiling. He shook the dust from his hair, taking in the rest of his surroundings. His windows were gone, and everything on his selves had fallen off, but his home was still standing; looks like those national preparations were worth something after all.

With a grunt, Alfred used is unnatural strength to dig himself out of the wreckage. He sound himself unbelievably sore, most likely a result of his country shifting over being pinned under his table. Slowly, he got himself free and reached his cell phone, which had fallen off the kitchen table during the quake. The screen was cracked, but apparently still working.

"Hello?" He said, surprised at how hoarse his voice was.

"A-Al? Holy shit, I've been trying to call you for 8 hours! Are you okay?" A frantic voice shouted from the other end, sounding close to tears.

Alfred rubbed his face, wiping the dirt from his skin. "I'm fine, Mattie. Knocked out for a bit, but fine. What about you?"

A relieved laugh came through"Everthing's good over here. Takes a lot more than the earth shifting to take the Canadian's down, eh? Tim Horton's is already opening back up, handing out free food to anyone who needs it."

"Why am I not surprised?" Alfred laughed. "Have you heard anything from anyone else?"

"I've been calling the other nations while trying to get ahold of you on my cell. Seems like everything's fine so far, not too much damage. The only one who hasn't been answering is you. You scared the shit out of me, and I'm willing to bet the others have been trying to call you too."

"Sorry, Matt." Alfred said as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. He paused, looking around at his house which currently had a hole in the roof and no windows. "Hey, uh, buddy? Mind if I head over a day early?"

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Matthew Williams stood in front of Gate A6, out of the way of the busy passengers loading off the plane from Washington DC to Halifax. He drummed his fingers idly against his side, looking for his own face in the crowd. Alfred had sent him the right gate in his text right? Because he'd been standing there forever, probably looking like an idiot, waiting for his brother to get off the plane. Usually, nations flew first class, so they got off first, but first class had gotten off at least half an hour ago. So where the hell was his brother?

An arm was suddenly slung around Matthew's neck, jerking him back and down with a yelp of surprise. Before an combat instinct could kick in, a fist began rubbing viciously into his forehead. "Hey there, little brother!" Canada fought his way free of his captor's hold, twisting the offending arm around and shoving the whole body to the ground. The assailant twisted his hand to grab Matthew's wrist, then rolled over until Matt hit the ground. Both lay on their backs. "Best two out of three?" The attacker laughed from beside him.

"You're such a jackass!" Matt laughed as he picked himself off the ground. "You can't just attack someone in the middle of an airport! We could have gotten arrested!"

Alfred grinned, untroubled. "Totally worth it, dude."

Canada rolled his eyes. "Where have you been, anyway?"

"Well, I got off like half an hour ago, but I couldn't see you, so I went to grab my bags and make sure England's present got here alright." Alfred shrugged.

Matthew raised a brow. "I was standing here the entire time, how could you not see me?"

"You were? Oh..."

"..."

"...Are you sure you don't have super invisibility powers?"

"Yes!"

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Oohhh, what did Alfred get Arthur?

So now that we're moving on, heading towards the main plot, I think I'll be able to get chapters out sooner. I've just had a lot of school and stuff, so please forgive me if I'm too slow!