Last chapter!

Here I am

Chapter 13

XX

Pulling off the long scarf wrapped around his throat, Arthur climbed the final few steps to their apartment. It had been a long day. Maybe he was getting old, but the children were harder to handle than normal. They had all but climbed on top of him in their excitement when he had walked through the door and had never let him have a moment's peace until the last bell had rung.

Perhaps he should find a quieter profession like Alfred, although he could never leave the kids…

He fumbled with his keys and turned the lock, turning the knob, he pushed the door open with his shoulder. "I'm ho - "

"Arthur! Arthur! Welcome back!" an excitable Feliciano almost bowled right into him. And he had dared to think that he was done for the day with excitable children…

Behind Feliciano, Ludwig stood looking rather embarrassed for them both and Feliciano's brother was scowling at him, muttering. "Took ya long enough, bastard!"

"A – Alfred?" Arthur shot his lover a confused look as Alfred, looking rather smug in his stars-and-stripes apron, came over to take part in the ruckus.

"Hey, Arthur, I heard the good news! Alfred said that your memory is back! So you remember Alfred now? You love him, right?" Feliciano gushed as Arthur, with the combined help of Ludwig, managed to pry him off from around his shoulders. Even separated, Feliciano continued to bounce up and down happily, grinning from ear to ear.

Alfred caught Arthur's elbow and pulled him aside, out of ear shot of the others. "Sorry, Arthur," he whispered, "it's just, when England was here, I thought that he was…well, I thought that you had amnesia and…"

"I think I'm beginning to understand. Are you saying you couldn't tell the difference between me and England?" Arthur looked unimpressed.

"I knew there were differences!" Alfred defended himself. "But I thought that that was only because you had lost your memory and…" he blushed, "it hurt you know, thinking that you didn't love me anymore."

"You're a sap," Arthur could not help shaking his head, although he did this whilst managing not to look into Alfred's eyes. He knew that Alfred would be currently wearing the human-equivalent to the expression of a kicked puppy and it was so cute, if he looked at him at that moment, he would probably do something very embarrassing. In front of everyone.

"Anyway, just stick with the story. They'll never believe us if we told them the truth," Alfred pulled him closer, settling for a quick peck on his cheek before returning to help Francis in the kitchen with whatever four-course feast they were cooking up in there.

Arthur sighed as Alfred left. "Why do I do these things for you?"

However, as he was debating what he could stand more; Felicano's clinginess or Francis' insufferably wandering hands, he was once again appropriated by another of their friends.

"Oh, Kiku," he smiled as Kiku approached him. He was thinking about Japan. He had oddly missed that nation whose presence had dwindled as Arthur had spent more time with America. That guy seemed to disappear at the most convenient – or perhaps inconvenient – times.

Kiku bowed. "Forgive me for not coming earlier. Francis told me about the amnesia and I thought that it would be best not to interfere."

"No, it's fine," he shook his head. "Really. It was busy enough without people coming over."

Kiku smiled lightly. "An…acquaintance of mine was also very worried. He also sends his regards and hopes that you are well."

"Oh? Well then thank him for me," Arthur replied, a little awkward. He was embarrassed to think that complete stranger knew, or thought that they knew, what had happened to him.

"He also sends you a present," Kiku handed him a round Tupperware bowl full of soup.

Arthur accepted the present gratefully. Lifting the lid, he sniffed the now lukewarm contents. It smelt familiar. "Leek…and mushroom soup?" he guessed.

Kiku nodded. "He told me to pass on a message for you; please don't be reckless from now on. Leek and mushroom soup cannot cure everything…" His smile deepened, but instead of seeming brighter it only made him look enigmatic. Kiku had always been a strange one. "Oh, and he said not to worry about the future. Everything will be fine."

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, to ask him what he had meant, but then Alfred came flouncing back, dragging Francis away from his precious cooking to join them all.

"Arthur! Arthur!" he cried, waving a camera in his hand.

"What?" Arthur turned around just in time to be blinded by the flash.

"Smile!" he grinned.

XX

When England trundled down the stairs to prepare breakfast that morning, he smelt cooking oil and bacon. America was already in the kitchen, his back was turned to him and he was cooking.

When America turned he almost dropped the plate in surprise.

"Oh," was all he managed as he set the table with two identical plates stacked with food. He looked awkward and uncomfortable, reminding England of everything that had happened the previous night.

England blushed and looked down. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed between them in which neither moved.

"Um," America cleared his throat. "I was starving and just helped myself. I'll go after this."

England nodded silently. His eyes trailed along the white table cloth so that he did not have to look at America. He noticed the blue milk jug on the table and the plates on either side. America had made toast and a side of eggs, sunny side up, which became the hair on the face of their plates with two fried tomatoes for eyes and a sausage smile.

Just like Alfred.

Looking up, America had turned around and was doing the dishes in a moment of strange thoughtfulness. England took a deep breath, summoning the little courage that he had.

But the walls you build to keep out pain also keep out happiness as well, Alfred had said. England had found him stupidly masochistic but perhaps he had a point. Perhaps Alfred had not been as stupid as he had seemed.

England moved around the table, towards the sink where Alfred was scrubbing the hardened fat from the frying pan. Sensing his presence, America turned as England approached but before he could do anything England shoved two fingers inside his mouth and pulled the edges of his lips as far apart as possible.

"America…smile…"

He pulled out his fingers quickly, thoroughly enjoying the bewildered look on America's face. Laughter bubbled in his throat, and something warm seemed to be shining in his chest. Before he knew it, England started to laugh. How long had it been since he had laughed. It felt good.

God it felt good to laugh.

America was not sure what the hell England was doing. Maybe he had finally lost it once and for all. However, only now did he realise that Arthur had been telling the truth.

England's smile was beautiful.

XX