"... Ah." was all America could say, his mind catching up with his mouth after a few seconds. But, of course, the damage had already been done. He smiled nervously at a clearly increasingly angry man, trying to appear apologetic (and, of course, failing).

"Uh... What do I mean by... uh... what?" he asked.

"What do you mean 'It's England'? Are you seriously telling me my name is England?" Arthur asked, his resolve to stay patient fading quickly. America looked around the room nervously, trying to decide whether or not to tell the truth. He ended up laughing awkwardly instead.

"So this is a joke?!" Arthur asked indignantly, shooting out of the sofa. Had he been able to see, he would have glared at the American.

"Well, yeah, I mean no, look, let me explain-"

"You think it's funny to stalk a blind man, barge into his home and then, to top it all off, play some kind of prank on him?! Get out of my house now!" Arthur snapped. Alfred didn't move and in frustration, Arthur guessed where America was sitting and grabbed him by his collar. He then proceeded to drag a mildly stunned American to the front door.

"Ah! Uh, Arthur, I think you've misunderstood-" America tried to explain, as he stumbled over his feet. But the Brit wasn't listening. He flung the door open and threw America out as best he could.

"If I ever come across you again, I will call the police immediately! Leave me alone you sick wanker!" Arthur yelled, slamming the door shut. America stared, before eventually getting off the porch.

"Damn... I need to get my tongue under control..." he finally said, after a few moments silence. He then stopped and looked back, indecisive. He looked at the ground then clasped and unclasped his hands, before walking back to the front door. He knocked on it gently.

"... Uh... hey Arthur, I- I know you're upset, but- um... Arthur?" America began, as he leant against the door, listening for a response. Hearing nothing, he wondered by how much he'd crossed the line. Personally, he thought Arthur was overreacting, but perhaps the subject of who he once was, was a very sensitive and touchy subject... Besides, where was the line when dealing with amnesic, oddly blind friends you thought were dead, but weren't...? Either way, the Brit clearly didn't want to talk to him at the moment...

"... Look, I really do think you're my..." America hesitated, wondering what to call England. They sure weren't brothers anymore. They crossed that bridge a long time ago. But a friend...? He'd never really called him that... But ally was too impersonal to justify bothering some "poor" blind man. He had no choice really. "... an old friend. And I'm sorry I've upset you... If you aren't my friend though, I really do want to help you, best I can... I-I'll come back later, OK? A-and I won't do anything like entering your house or nothing... And if you don't want me around... I'll leave."

Well, that's a lie.

There was a loud shattering sound from the other side. Clearly America's cue to leave the premises immediately. Sighing, he left the porch and began to walk away.

He hoped that he'd be able to explain everything to England when he next saw him.

Arthur rubbed his forehead, tired. What bothered him more was how much he wasn't bothered by the younger man's strange antics, such as finding out where he lived. It truly bothered Arthur how much this didn't cause him any distress. And the fact that he wasn't trying to figure out a way to keep the... stalker... away from him...

For some reason, it just didn't bother him. But it should.

Not wanting to think about it too much, he decided to make some tea and relax. He miraculously found one last teabag sitting alone in a corner of the cupboard and promptly made himself a nice tea. He now sat in the living room, enjoying the brew that the last teabag had been able to offer. It was quite a good cuppa.

So, he may have overreacted when Alfred bluntly said his name was supposedly England, but what did he mean by that? Besides, he most certainly had under-reacted to the American suddenly barging in and... and...

Well.

Sighing, he took a sip from the tea.

When Alfred suggested he come back later, Arthur had thrown anything within his reach at the door... To his surprise, he hadn't just thrown an object in the rough direction of where he wanted it to collide, he had actually hit the target.

That had never happened before. His aim had always been off. Although in a familiar setting, one in which he knew where everything was... Arthur still failed to quite get things right, walking into sofas, tables, chair, doors... He would often put some drink down on a table, only to accidentally knock it over, when reaching for it moments later.

It was like he had been unaccustomed to being blind and refused to get used to it... Had that changed?

He was probably overanalysing it. Unless... Unless he hit his target again. What had he grabbed anyway?

He put the tea down on the table and walked over to door. It had smashed in a very particular way, creating a sound that only pottery or china could make... He was careful when feeling the floor for shards. Feeling over the surface, something terrible had dawned on him.

He'd smashed Jack's expensive ming vase. He had smashed Jack's precious ming vase.

But surely it was insured, right? If it cost so much, it had to be! Still, the thing was supposedly unique... And Arthur had destroyed it in a fit of unreasonable anger.

How was he going to explain this to Jack?

Arthur sighed and went back to the sofa, trying to come up with some explanation, but finding none. He didn't want to mention Alfred, as he, for some reason, didn't want that particular American getting into trouble, as well as... Arthur couldn't explain his own lack of proper reaction. He didn't want to be critisized for not being too bothered by recent events.

Arthur reached for his tea and actually picked it up, instead of knocking it over. He frowned. Twice now... But that really wasn't enough to prove that he was now less... clumsy. He took a sip of his tea.

England... Arthur thought, as he let himself finally relax and drift in his mind. The shards could be cleaned later. He closed his eyes and leant back.

That name does sound kind of right. Weird name, but... It sounds right none the less... Besides, there are plenty of people called England... It's not that unusual... But why did I overreact like that? Maybe I was just having difficulty dealing with Alfred and having such an uncommon name must have set me off... But... Why did Alfred only say "England"? Surely it's not just that... England as a surname, I can understand, but... Only England?

Arthur's thoughts gradually drifted off, as he slowly nodded off to sleep, the cup of tea falling to the ground and smashing with a quiet clink.

Lilli waved goodbye to her friends, as she walked up to the porch. They waved goodbye and walked down the streets and she watched as one of them picked up some snow off the ground and threw it at another friend.

She smiled, wishing she could play with them, but she wasn't really dressed properly for winter and was shivering in her clothes. She sighed and turned back to the door, getting her keys out and unlocking it.

To her surprise, the door was already unlocked though.

Strange... I'm pretty sure no one's supposed to be home at this time...

She gently opened the door, peeking in. Anyone here? Lilli thought, not knowing what to expect. She knocked on the door, three times, but there was no reaction. She looked at the floor, when she head the sound of something clinking, as if being psuhed aside. At her feet lay a broken ming vase.

Her eyes widened.

... Who did this? I liked that vase! It's such a shame... But... The door is unlocked, no one's home...

She quietly grabbed an umbrella from the umbrella stand, holding it up like a bat. She carefully walked around the ming vase's shards, treading as silently as she could and listened very carefully. She could hear slow, deep breaths coming from the living room.

She was clearly not alone.

Her heart beat faster. Her phone had run out of battery and their landline was in the living room... Where the breathing was coming from.

Should she go and get a neighbour? Should she wait for Maria and Jack?

Curiosity won her over though and she quietly, she walked in, preparing to hit some burglar with an umbrella, but let out a sigh of relief when she saw Arthur sleeping on the sofa, half sitting and half lying on the sofa.

So Arthur was home...

Out of paranoia, she quickly checked the rest of the house, discovering no one else was there. She relaxed a little and returned to the living room. Arthur had shifted a little, but was still asleep. This time she also noticed that underneath his right hand lay another shattered object, with some nice tea stains accompanying it.

She closed her eyes, a little upset that he hadn't cleaned up the two messes he had likely made and instead had gone to sleep. Who does that? She shook him lightly by the shoulder, but when he didn't stir, she shook him harder.

Finally, the man began to stir. "Wha-?" he asked, as his eyes began to open (a strange habit of his). He adjusted his sunglasses. "Alfred?" the Brit asked expectantly. Who's Alfred? Lilli wondered. She tapped three times on Arthur's shoulder.

"Oh, it's you," Arthur muttered. He immediately added, changing his tone "I didn't realise the time! How was your day Lilli? Good? Good! Mine was uneventful!" He had seemed a little disappointed a moment ago, but clearly didn't want to let her know why he was in such a mood. Lilli leant over the sofa and gave him a hug, noting that he was a tad sweaty. Great. Another dream.

"...I must have dozed off... Jack isn't back yet, is he?" Lilli tapped him once on the arm. 'No'. She then paused, wondering how she was going to ask Arthur why the Ming Vase and teacup were shattered on the floor (albeit in separate areas)...

Sighing at the only possible solution, she gently took Arthur's wrist, tugging it softly. The blind man got up and followed her to the floor. There, she gently led his hands to the smashed teacup, making sure that he didn't cut himself in the process.

"Oh... I didn't realise I... OK, Lilli... Uh... You should go and do your homework. I'll clean up this mess." Lilli tapped twice on his shoulder, then put the umbrella back in its stand.

She wondered why Arthur was back so early. He must have known about the broken ming vase, since his first question was 'Is Jack back?'. She decided to dismiss it. Arthur was acting a little strange, but she was sure it was nothing.

Besides, if something was bothering him or if something serious was going on, he'd surely tell her.

They only had each other, after all.

Much to Arthur's frustration, Alfred didn't show his face again. Well, for a day at least. He wondered if he'd just dreamt it all up, but the broken ming vase was evidence that this was not the case.

Kiku, Mattie and Feliciano came by in the evening, to see if he was OK. It was nice. The three visitors ended up staying for dinner and at Feli's insistence, Arthur let him cook food for their evening meal (Maria and Jack didn't complain either) and, unsurprisingly, the Italian made pasta.

As always with Feliciano's food, it tasted amazing.

Once the trio left, Arthur muttered something about feeling tired and lef to "go to bed". When he entered the room, he locked his door. He didn't want to be disturbed by anyone. Not Jack. Not Maria.

... Not Lilli.

The more he thought about the little Alfred had managed to get out before getting kicked out, the more that little made sense.

England... Now that he had a chance to ponder about it, it... it felt right.

He didn't just think it was his name, it was his name. No questions asked.

He'd even asked Kiku to call him England at some random point in the evening. Arthur had immediately responded.

You don't immediately respond to a name you're unused to hearing and applying to yourself.

What was odder, was that once he'd accepted it as his name... He started remembering things about his name. He remembered what it was in other languages, and that it was his... inofficial title.

But an inofficial title isn't a name... Is it?

... And how could only England be his name?

Usually, Arthur slept peacefully and well for someone who slept lightly. Lilli, Maria and Jack weren't snorers and they didn't have any pets to make noises during the night. The neighbourhood was good and quiet, with their neighbours made of few families and fewer teenagers and adolescents.

There were, however, those odd nights, when he didn't sleep well at all, but that was usually because something was on his mind. Today was one of those odd nights, although it eventually ceased just being ghosts in his head.

At some point, a tapping sound started resonating from the window. It had started several moments ago and had gradually grown louder and louder. Arthur twitched in aggravation, as he patiently waited for and hoped that the noise would stop.

The sooner he could return to thinking, the sooner he'd get some sleep. At least, he hoped so. Either way, the persistant sound was not helping.

Of course, having waited for a short while already, Arthur knew that sound was only going to get louder. Was... was someone trying to contact him in the middle of the night?

Letting out a low growl, Arthur threw his duvets to the floor and dragged himself towards the annoying 'tapping' sound. Pulling on a dressing gown, he walked over to the window and opened it.

"Who's there?" He demandingly whispered harshly, quiet enough not to wake anyone up, but loud enough to be heard.

"Dude, it's me! The hero!"

Arthur paused, a little confused.

The... hero...?

No.

No.

Not Alfred.

Not now.

What time is it? he thought. Surely it wasn't morning already... His alarm would have gone off, right? Unless the battery was flat...

He backed away from the window and felt his alarm clock. Two-forty-something. He clenched his teeth and calmly walked back to the window.

"What are you doing here?" He whispered.

"'To see if you're ready to hear me out!" Alfred replied, obnoxiously loud.

"Keep your bloody voice down, idiot!" Arthur hissed, worried someone might get woken up. "What made you think I'd want to let you explain yourself to me in the middle of the night? No, how did you figure out which window to knock on?!"

"Well, the window was a lucky guess." Technically true... I guessed which room you'd probably want to sleep in, assuming you can't stay in the master bedroom - which you can't. "And... the other... Well, I thought we should have some privacy and I couldn't really sleep, so..." Alfred explained, shrugging nervously. Arthur groaned. At least Alfred had spoken a lot more softly this time.

"What kind of excuse is 'I couldn't sleep'?"

"... Well, could you sleep?" he asked. Arthur frowned. No, he hadn't been able to. He absentmindedly shook his head, forgetting that those with the gift of sight could see the gesture.

"So why waste a sleepless night on trying to sleep, when you could do something productive?" Alfred asked innocently. Arthur folded his arms in contemplation. He didn't want to admit that Alfred was right in any way, shape or form... But he was.

"I don't know Al. It's pretty cosy up here. Why should I come down?"

"Well, actually, I was thinking perhaps you could... let me in...? We could chat in the living room, or kitchen or something..."

Arthur paused, a little taken aback, but then scowled.

"Hell if I let you in while Lilli's at home. Have a good night and stop bothering me-"

"Arthur, come on! Don't be like that! We both have something we want- something we need to know!"

Arthur put his hands on the window to close it. Alfred bit his lip. He didn't want to go home again... There was nothing there. He'd have to try a different tactic...

"But Artie, you can't leave me out here in the cold...! It's freezing and I don't have enough with me to stay warm... It's so cold... So very cold..." Alfred whined. This had worked in the past before. At least on England...

And apparently not on Arthur. He slammed the window shut without hesitation and disappeared in the darkness. Locked out again. America sighed. That was stupid. England doesn't mind being bothered during the night, not really. He just pretends, because he doesn't want anyone to get "the wrong idea". But this wasn't England he was dealing with. This was Arthur. Arthur knew nothing about Alfred, had never met him before and was probably surrounded by people that never woke him up during the night.

To Arthur, Alfred was probably being... Weird at best, creepy at worst.

He couldn't believe his own stupidity. He kept forgetting the part where Arthur still believed himself a human and wasn't England. America went back to his car and berated himself for his actions and that he had to start thinking before acting. Arthur was his only lead, he didn't want to end up upsetting Arthur. An upset Arthur would eventually take actions against him to stop America from being allowed within fifteen feet of him or contacting him at all. Of course, there were perhaps other reasons that America didn't want to upset Arthur, but that was the most dominant reason.

As he opened the car door, he heard a door quietly open and close behind him.

"Fine. We're not staying here to discuss anything though. From now on, you stay as far away from my home, my family, as physically possible, is that clear?"

America grinned widely. So it did work on Arthur too. He tried to sound serious and not too relieved or cheery when he spoke.

"It's good that you changed your mind. Perhaps we can uncover what happened to you if we work together."

That sounded terrible out loud, but America hadn't been able to come up with something that sounded both neutral and serious. Arthur huffed.

"We'll see about that. For now, we're going to your place, where ever that is."

Alfred frowned at the suggestion, about to protest, but Arthur pushed passed him, and slid into the car. The Brit must have heard America open the door and figured he was here by car. Smart.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Let's go." Arthur snapped impatiently, buckling himself into the car. "We don't have all night."

"Are you sure...?" Alfred weakly attempted to protest.

"It's only fair I barge into your home, after you barged into mine," Arthur said sharply, again folding his arms.

"Um... I guess... I guess you have a point..." A stupid point, but a point nevertheless. He sighed deeply and was sure driving off with a stranger would begin to bother Arthur later and Alfred would have to carry the blame... But he was also too tired to argue, so he got into the car.

"Right. Let's go."

"Why didn't I get changed...?" England muttered to himself. "And why didn't you say anything?" he added, frowning. Apart from a coat and scarf, Arthur was still in his pyjamas and slippers. Which looked odd, to say the least. Alfred chuckled nervously.

"I thought you knew... Since, you know... You remembered your sunglasses."

England didn't resond, instead buttoning up his coat, to at least pretend he wasn't in his pyjamas. But the pants gave it away.

"I feel ridicolous..." England muttered.

"Dude, don't worry, you've worn both stupider and weirder stuff before."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

England seemed vaguely interested, but decided not to ask anything further and looked out the window instead. Or at least, he would if he could see. America gave him a side-glance and supposed it was a habit from when England had still had his sight. Seeing England so pensive, America decided not to bug him for a little bit, but as the silence grew, America began getting fidgety.

"So... D'you wanna talk now? I mean, we might as well. We won't be there for a little while."

England jolted, as if taken out of some deep thoughts and turned to look in his vague direction. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it, changing his mind. He then slowly began to nod.

"I'd like my questions answered," he said curtly.

"Go on then. I think most of my questions are answered anyway," America replied. Technically true, in that he was pretty sure he couldn't ask anymore questions that Arthur could answer.

"First of all, what did you mean when you said my name is England?"

"Do you believe me?" America asked, a little surprised.

"You can't answer a question with a question," England replied tiredly, rubbing his temples.

"Yeah, but could you answer anyway? It'll help me..."

"... Fine. Yes. Yes, I do believe you. England is my name, I... It just feels right. I don't know why."

"Good, because my name isn't Alfred. I mean, it is, but it isn't. I'm called America."

"Of course it is..." Arthur muttered. It didn't sound like sarcasm, but more like... it was inevitable that someone like Alfred would truly be called America. And America would hope so. He was the personification, after all. He'd want people to look at him and think "Now if that ain't the embodiment of America, I don't know what is!"

"So, you agree?" America asked, just to check.

Another nod.

"OK, good... So, this next bit might be a little harder to accept, but... Well, technically my official name is the United States of America, but it's too lengthy to say every time, so everyone just calls me America."

England frowned. America stopped talking and let him speak, but when he didn't, Alfred hesitantly asked "... S-something wrong?"

England shook his head.

"You said official... So, do you have an inofficial name?"

"Well, yeah. It's America?"

"Right... Just like my inofficial name is England?"

"Yeah. It used to be Britain, but your brothers began complaining-"

"I have brothers?"

"... oh, uh... Well, one is still out there, but you two... You get along reasonably well, but when you disappeared... You hadn't been on the best of terms... I'm sure he'd be happy to see you again though."

"... Only one is out there?"

"You have- Well, England has a total of... four brothers..." Officially anyway "... And three of them are... still missing."

"Does someone have something against my family or something?"

"What?" America asked, caught a little off-guard. Someone... Against their family... Against them? Alfred brought the car to a sudden halt.

"What was that for?" Arthur snapped, having been quite shaken by America inexplicably slamming on the brakes.

"S-sorry, just... thinking."

He'd always suspected that it had been a mass nation-napping, orchestrated by someone... but... Who was the perpetrator? Who had the skill or power to do something like that...? He'd mostly been surprised to hear someone else say it, after such a long time. Everyone had simply believed that personifications were simply going "extinct". Their time was over.

The seventeen remaining nations survived, as anomalies.

"Thinking doesn't equate to such a sudden stop."

"Sorry... Hang on, how do you know England is your inofficial name?"

England's eyes widened and he laughed nervously.

"I... I honestly don't know. It just... Seems too casual? Or too... Not stately..."

America grinned. England had known or figured out that "England" was his inofficial name before America had told him that. No doubt about it, now he knew for sure, this was England. The sudden surge of happiness he had felt before, upon discovering England, made it hard to hide his feelings. He gently bumped his fist on England's shoulder.

"I knew you were England!" he said cheerily. England seemed a bit uncomfortable and rubbed his shoulder. "Uh- sorry... I keep forgetting you don't know me anymore..."

"It's fine. But do you know why my brothers are missing, by any chance?"

"... No... You went missing about the same time as your brothers... But you and your family weren't the only ones targetted... I lost my brother and many others disappeared..."

"... Disappeared... Why are they targetting us?"

"What makes you think we were targetted?"

"Humans don't just disappear into thin air."

"... That's true... But I have no evidence that... It's the most plausible, I'll be the first to admit, but..."

"Do you have any ideas why?"

Beyond being personifications of entire nations?

"N-nothing... Um... Nothing that makes sense." Alfred stuttered.

"... Why did you hesitate?"

America really should have thought things over, before talking... But then Arthur might have noticed the pause... Who knew? Too late now. He sighed deeply and decided to be honest.

"I know a reason... But you're not going to believe me."

"Try me."

America turned to look at England. He seemed completely willing to listen. America still couldn't help but frown.

"Fine... But you really won't believe me. You see... Um... OK, where do I start... Well, each country has a representative. No, that's the wrong word... Each country has a personification that represents it. No wait... That's wrong too... Well, there are these... seemingly immortal... people... that are the... the living embodiment of a nation? Well, our bosses think that we just represent the country and don't personify it... Well, the new ones think that, the old bosses knew... Um... Do you follow me?"

America was surprised to see England nod, although with a look of confusion. He'd half expected the Brit to argue with him at this point, claim that there's no way something could personify anything and that immortal creatures aren't possible, etc., etc.

But silence. England really was willing to listen.

Now that was a first. This was definitely a side of England that America had never seen before. Not really.

Perhaps this was a part of who Arthur was though and not England. Arthur had seemed a little different than England, but that was due to different experiences and a different life...

America cleared his throat and continued.

"Um... As you can probably guess, our names are the name of whatever country we are. So that's why I'm called America and you England... Inofficially, your name is England. At one point everyone called you Britain, but then your brothers started complaining, so it changed back to England. You were... chosen to be the representative of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland... We're not really sure if you're also the personification or not... Your brothers didn't like the idea of you claiming Irish, Welsh and Scottish as a part of you too, which is why the whole Britain thing went up in the air-"

Alfred realised he was explaining too much about why England had taken up the name England again, rather than sticking to his old inofficial name Britain.

"... Anyway, we're getting off track. As I said, you're England. Now, roughly a century ago, nearly all the nations (so, us personifications, just so you know) disappeared for no obvious reasons. The people aware of our existance looked for clues everywhere, but found no clues to what happened. You were one of the many nations to disappear, I was one of the few to... Not disappear. So, yeah, no one knows what happened. I call this whole case the nation-nap mystery... If we were targetted by a group of people, it will likely be something to do with us being personifications... You see?" America asked, briefly casting a worried gaze to the quiet British nation.

"England? Oh- I mean, Arthur?"

"No... You can call me England. It's all right," Arthur calmly replied, brow furrowing in concentration. Other than his concentrated look, his face didn't portray any particular emotion... But Arthur was clearly trying to decide whether or not to accept America's explanation. At least he was alright with being called England.

Arthur visibly relaxed and crossed his arms.

"... To be honest, it's the biggest load of bull I've heard in a year... But, if it's anything like my real name, it might actually start making sense... Eventually." England replied, followed by a tired yawn. America smiled, relieved that England would consider the information a little longer, before thinking about disregarding it. But there was a lot more to say about personifications... He wondered if he should mention his inability to sense England. To even explain the 'sensing' thing to England would be a pain.

Probably not tonight then.

"You mentioned my brothers... I suppose that would make them Scotland, Ireland and Wales? Hang on... Who's the fourth?"

"Northern Ireland..." America muttered. It was a little saddening that England- Arthur (England surely wouldn't forget) could forget the youngest of the five named brothers.

"Yes. Those... Four... They would be my brothers?"

"Yes."

"... Based on England's history with them, I suppose I'm not on the best terms with... Any of them."

"Well, from what I've seen, I think you all care about each other, but are too busy arguing to notice most of the time- or even admit it."

"... What about colonies?"

"Huh?"

"The UK had a lot of colonies once... Are colonies like... my kids or something?"

America couldn't help but laugh at that.

"N-no, that's not how it works!" he explained between chuckles. Arthur frowned.

"So how does it work?" he asked. America grinned and was about to answer, when he realised that he didn't actually know. It had always been a fact to him.

Personifications do not have kids. They do not call other nations, whether independent or not, their kids. Some are not even related, though... perhaps they should be? America was certain at least he and Mexico should be half-brothers or something... But that wasn't the case.

... So if personifications didn't have kids...

Where the heck did personifcations come from? They just formed... didn't they? Then again... He... He didn't know. He'd not exactly ever talked to the others about it... Hang on, hadn't the two Italies descended from a personifcation? And what the heck decided whether or not nations are related as siblings? Why weren't there any cousins too? Or half-siblings?!

Why were there so... so many inconsistencies? Were... Was anyone they called family someone they adopted into their family? But take the Italy brothers - there was no way they weren't related... Right?

England suddenly laughed.

"What?" America asked, suddenly brought out of his thoughts.

"I just realised asking if former colonies are my kids is such a... a bizarre thing to ask- especially to you, since you're a former colony. Sorry, that must have been a weird question to answer..."

"Oh, dude, nah, don't worry about it. You... you didn't know. You'd think being a personification is pretty simple - the concept is simple enough! But there's a lot of things that... that aren't explain- don't make sens-... Um... Details you wouldn't think of..."

"Were we friends then? Before I disappeared?"

"... Well... Kind of? I don't really know? You acted weird most of the time, so I couldn't actually tell... To be honest, I'm pretty sure you were also the personification of mixed messages. I suppose... Yeah. I guess we were... In some way or form."

"So... Even though we had to fight each other in war a few times, we were able to patch it up...? That's... kind of nice to know."

I wouldn't call it patching up...

"Hang on, what do you mean by 'we had to'?"

"Oh... I just... sorry, I assumed that, being personifications, we'd have to go to war for our countries, whether or not we actually wanted to... I know I sure as hell don't want to have to ever go to war... But since you're the personification, you have to, whether or not you want to. And... Well, I have Lilli at home. I would never want to go to war against her... You... We couldn't go to war against loved ones... Could we...?"

America didn't reply immediately. Couldn't go to war with... Had America ever gone to...? He knew he'd cared a lot about England when he was a colony, but when talks about independency started... What had he as... not as America, but as a person thought? What had he felt? He suddenly found he could no longer clearly remember whether he had still considered England a loved one at that point... He could barely remember what he had thoguht and felt during that period... Now all he remembered was a desire to be allowed to do what he wanted without England hovering over his shoulder and dictating everything.

Goodbye crown, goodbye England. Rid of the tyrants.

But what Arthur suggested... The very idea that they had no control over whether or not they wanted to fight... If they didn't agree, they went to war anyway... He knew for sure he'd wanted independence... But what about everything else? He felt confused. Did he ever have feelings about others that weren't shared with his people? He knew he did, but...

... How frequent were they exactly? Was it possible he was enslaved in some ways? That he had his own opinions, but had to set them aside for his people? His head had begun spinning, so he slowed down the car. Thinking back... He remembered the first times he had heard of the first world war and second world war. The first time he'd seen footage of the battles. And he remembered that he had wanted to help them immediately... But no one else had.

He couldn't go to war and help those he cared about. Canada had been fighting, but he hadn't been permitted to. It had never occurred to him to enlist as a Canadian soldier or at least to do volunteer work. And when he finally did join the fight, when he'd officially been permitted to... Both Canada and England were... cold. At first, at least. They held their tongues (although Canada was far more successful), but... He knew they had blamed him for their troubles at the fronts and he never really learnt whether or not they'd "forgiven" him for something he had had...

... no control over.

He turned to look at England, wanting to say something, anything, but realised that Arthur had fallen asleep on him. America sighed and leaned back into his seat.

This has been one weird night... I don't think I've questioned the existence of personifications as much as I have this evening...

He continued driving, in quiet contemplation.

I feel horrible... Arthur thought, as he slowly woke up. Hm... He was sure his room smelt more like tea and those genetically engineered indoor roses... Today it smelt of burgers for some reason. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. Again, as on so many mornings, his hair was covered in sweat.

Maybe I should go to a therapist about this?

He should probably have had a therapist for a while now, but he'd also had a therapist after being discharged from the hospital... None of the meetings ever ended well and the therapist eventually had a breakdown. He'd consider visiting a therapist again.

Arthur stretched and yawned. Don't I have work today? Arthur wondered. Yeah, I do... He reminded himself, remembering that it was Tuesday. The alarm hasn't gone off though... Am I awake before the alarm? What's the time...? He rolled onto his side and reached out for his alarm clock, only to touch thin air.

Where's my clock? He thought. Funny, the table surface was missing too. He frowned. He hadn't moved the table... So where was it? Tiredly, Arthur threw his legs off the bed and sat up. He rubbed his eyes, realising that he had still slept quite well, aside from that stupid, recurring dream.

He got up and wandered to his bedroom door... Well, where his bedroom door should be. Instead, it was... thin air? He tried to find the door frame, but there was none.

What...? Arthur thought, as he fuzzily started remembering things from that night. As his brain made the necessary connections to remember earlier events, he started slowly realising what was going on.

"AMERICA!" England yelled as loud as he could.

A floor beneath the angry and confused Brit, America couldn't help but smirk, sort of looking forward to getting chewed out. Well, what else had England expected him to do? Take him on a long drive and then drop him off back at home? How silly.

This chapter just did not want to be written. So, it's just a bit shorter than the last, but hopefully enjoyable all the same. :3

This chapter has been edited.

Note that it really is inconsistent that some nations have parents or grandparents, while others, such as Canada and America, do not. I think it's a common fanon that the personification of the native population of North America would be the ancestors of the two, but it's not canon, so...

Also, apparently a majority didn't actually want the American Revolution to happen (and I ain't talking about the loyalists here)... But I shall ignore that historical fact, since everyone else seems to. - Super Sister of 2015