Sorry for the long time it took to make this finished, and because it is a short chapter. And for the dream Alfred is going to have, I was really bored when I wrote that.

"I'm I dreaming again?" Alfred asked.

"Yes" Arthur answered simply. Not looking at him.

"So, technically, I'm back?" YES!

"You sound like you don't like the middle ages." Arthur said calmly. That was when Alfred noticed the embroidery in Arthur hands. Well thanks for paying attention, man!

"Of course I like the middle ages! Havn't had this fun since I... well since ever!" That's a lie. Big time. Arthur doesn't have to know that.

"Then what do you need my help for?" Arthur said, still focused on his embroidery.

"Who said I need you help?"

"You wouldn't be here otherwise."

At this Alfred became quiet. Arthur still didn't look up from his embroidery.

"I... don't know what I need you help for..." Alfred said slowly.

"Then I guess" Arthur finally looked at him, though it was like he saw right through him "you don't need to be here."

It was dark. Like very, VERY dark. But, at some point, there was a light. A blue, and yellow and maybe green light. Uhg, he was tiered of green. Everything he had seen this far was green; the woods, the fairy, England's eyes...

AND THEN OUT OF NOWHERE A GIANT SEAMONSTER BURST OUT IN THE OPEN AND STARTED TO...sing opera with a purple flower. And then for some reason, Germany was there, clapping his hands and laughing like he has never laughed before. And he was dressed like a clown. With Russia beside him, wearing a pink dress.

And he swore he could hear England laugh.

As America woke up, Rowan was staring at him. He was so never going back o sleep again. Seeing Germany as a clown is one trauma too many. He is not even going to think about Russia.

"You talk when you sleep" he said.

"Ugh, did I say anything weird?"

"Something about that you didn't need help."

"Oh." America got up. "So what are we going know?"

"Oh, just a little bit north, and then west, and then northwest." Rowan said happily. "What were you dreaming about?"

"Um, well... a monster who had a pretty awesome voice, but not awesome as the purple flower."

Rowan blinked at him.

"You, Mr. Alfred, are some of the strangest people I've ever met."

For some reason he though he heard England laugh. He just couldn't figure out where, and when he did, he realized it was in his mind.
He was surprised he hadn't tripped over something again. It was strange that he had tripped in the first, 'cause he hadn't tripped in a forest since he was a small boy.

Sure it was a different kind of forest, but each time he was about to fall to the ground, something sort of cached him.

Rowan was talking like he always did. He had gone though some bed time stories he had a weak memory from, and was now talking about some spirit who made sure people didn't get lost or hurt between the trees.

"... my farther thought he saw him once, the powerful spirit, but then again he said that when he took a closer look he saw a small boy, not so much older than I am, maybe even in my age..."

Haha, typical England, Albion, shut up!, to have a small child as a spirit. America had a talent yo just forgett the hole old man thing about England when he wanted to.

"...and at that time my farther was just as young as you are, but one time my brother got lost in the woods and my farther and my uncle was out looking for him, and they says it was like something was dragging them to my brother, who had fallen asleep, and then when they got home, my farther looked back in between the trees and again saw that little boy, who hadn't changed a bit. Still as small as I am now."

"How interesting..." it was interesting, really, but America was too busy not listening to enjoy the story. Why do Rowan have to tell stories about a ghost when they still are in the woods?

"I know, maybe he's the reason you had trouble yesterday." Rowans said.

"Yeah, maybe." Like a kid could do anything against him.

The days seemed to never end. They started early in the morning, stopped three or four times for food and then they turned in late at night.

America was actually doing fine, and he had even learned a few tricks when it came to noticing roots that showed up every now and then. It didn't hurt that it seemed to be easier when he had said something impressive about the trees, the lands, the stories Rowan told him or even about Rowan himself. Maybe there actually was something out there helping people.

No, bad Alfred! Do not think about that. Ghosts don't exists, ghosts don't exists, ghosts don't exists, ghost don't exists, ghosts don't exists, ghosts do not exist...

.oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Suddenly he was in a dark room. A very familiar one, when he though about it; it was his room. But dark and all his old furniture from when he was little were there. Weird, they should be in the attic. Now he sat in bed, dressed to bed. There was a candle at the table by his bed, but that didn't really help against the dark. The worst part as the storm outside his window.

It was raining, and there was some lightning's but the thunder was the worst. And each time he heard a thunder he quickly put the cover over his head. But he was brave, he was a hero. He was Arthurs hero, he couldn't hide under the cover; he wasn't afraid.

He heard steps outside his door walking by, so he let out a small cry. And just as he had hoped the steps stopped and the door opened. He knew that if Arthur thought he was afraid then he would come in and sit there with him; and then he could protect those green eyes from the thunder.

"Alfred, are you awake?"

"Arthur!" the small America screamed. England sat down on the bed and America crawled into his lap.

"Did the storm frighten you?" England asked.

"No..." America said in a whisper. Such a small thing to be scared of, he realized that now; in Arthurs armed. He heard Arthur chuckle.

"Now now, boy. You need to sleep." England said as he claimed down beside him. "Don't worry the storm won't hurt you"

"What about ghosts then?" America asked. "They are real, I know they are" America hugged England tightly.

"Well they won't hurt you as long as I am here. And if I am nowhere to be find, then you'll just have repeat they do not exist until I get there"

"Okay England."

.oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Rowan hadn't said anything for a long time. Well, actually he said that America needed to be quiet, which he already was, and thankfully Rowan was quiet too. Then he heard someone sing. And it was a rather cheerful melody too.

"Hey, Alfred that's my brother. Can't you hear him?"

"Really? Well then maybe you can show me the direction to the nearest town?" Yep, he really wanted to get away from the woods now, one week was quite enough.

"Well, of course, but you have to stay with us to night."

"That I can do."

So America going to stay the night, nothing more. Or so he liked to think. Rowans brother was awesome; he told all these stories which England once had told him and the ones Rowan had during the last few days.

It was just this that he never could ignore the feeling of being watched. And sometimes he swore he saw those eyes again. But every time he went to check the eyes he always found a bunny. Or two.

So when he went to the nearby lake he was sure that no one else was there. America sat down by the water and looked at his reflection.

"I am so fucked right now, aren't I?" he said to himself. "Haha, what wouldn't I do for a nice movie right now, and some chips and maybe a really pissed Arth-"

"What is a...moie?" someone asked. A child's voice and somewhat familiar.

"No nonononono. A moVie." America said and turned around. And there he saw another eight or seven year old boy. He was dressed like Rowan but in darker color and a coat over his shoulders. He had a bow and some arrows on the ground next to him. His hair was blonde and he had the greenest eyes he has ever seen. Emerald green.

"Holy shit! Arthur?"

Se, at least I gave you a cute moment with coloni!america and England, and little England is now offially in the story, yay!