...

Je suis desole...

I know, this chapter took forever to come out. I've been oh so busy lately.

Darn you, real life! *shakes fist dramatically*

'Thoughts' "Speech"

-(SC)- = Scene Change

Warnings for - Wrathful Italians, France's Ulterior Motive, and Spain's Long Lost Baby!

xXx xXx xXx

It's More Fun With Friends~

Alfred sighed heavily once the front door had clicked shut behind him. The issue with his memory wasn't really his topic of choice. It wasn't that it really bothered him that much, it was just that whenever the subject came up, Matthew always became depressed and he could do nothing to fix it. It made him feel quite useless, really. Useless, and guilty for being the cause of the problem.

The teen let out a half hearted laugh as he pushed his concerns away for a second time. He then put his hands into his pockets and started over to the Italians and their beat up car. Alfred had made it about half way there when he heard the front door open again. He turned back curiously and spotted Arthur. That brought a small smile to his face which quickly turned into a grin.

"Hey, Artie!" Alfred called, getting the Englishman's attention.

Arthur looked over to the American and slowed to a stop. "Yes…?" He asked as if he had been taken away from his thoughts.

Alfred grinned and took his hands out of his pockets. "Seriously, dude. Drive carefully." He cautioned again, though it sounded sarcastic this time. "Keep to the right." He reminded, teasingly, as he motioned with his hands the correct lane to drive in.

Arthur's face flushed. "Shut it! I drove you here safely, didn't I? You don't have to keep reminding me!"

"Yea? I totally saw that little correction you made at the gas station earlier this morning." Alfred smirked. He loved getting a rise out of the gentlemanly Brit. Even so, his concerns were in fact real.

The Englishman scowled. "How is it that you remember something like that, but you can't remember a house that you spent years in?!" Arthur retorted. He instantly regretted those last words when he saw the hurt that flashed across the American's face.

Alfred inwardly flinched at the sting of that last comment but he recovered quickly and gave Arthur another bright smile in return. "I dunno, man. I guess I'm just awesome like that." He replied as he concluded the conversation with a wave of his hand. "See you tomorrow at the Conference, Artie." With that said, Alfred turned and walked away, leaving the Englishman to his thoughts.

Arthur frowned as he watched the teen walk off. He wanted to apologize for what he had said, but doing so now seemed a bit awkward. So instead, Arthur simply turned and continued to his car without another word. This whole issue was bothering him even more now. Why hadn't he been aware of this until now? How bad was it? Most importantly however, Arthur wanted to know if there was anything to be done about it.

'I wonder what Matthew knows…'

-(SC)-

"Lemme help you with that, Lovino" Alfred offered as he approached the two Italians. Lovino, who had been tugging at his brother's suitcase that had somehow become lodged between the backseat and the passenger seat, looked up and glared.

"I don't need your help, America." He grumbled as he turned back and continued pulling at the handle.

"Just let him help, Lovi." Feliciano urged. The northern Italian was crouched beside the passenger seat, fiddling with the lever on the side. "I think the seat's jammed." He concluded as he finally gave up his attempt and looked over to the American.

"I said I don't need his help!" Lovino replied stubbornly and tugged harder at the suitcase.

"Hey! What's wrong with my help?" Alfred retorted from where he stood a few feet away. He then crossed his arms sulkily as he watched the southern Italian who obviously needed some assistance.

"First off, I already said no." Lovino replied grumpily as he pulled even harder on the handle. "And, secondly, because you'll break something! So just go away. We don't ne-" The sudden release of the handle from the suitcase silenced the Italian and sent him stumbling backwards into the cause of his annoyance.

"Dude, you ok?" Alfred asked after he had caught the smaller man under the arms before he had fallen to the ground. Lovino tilted his head back and stared up at the American in shock as a blush raged across his face in embarrassment. He then quickly got back to his feet and shoved the teen away harshly.

"This is all your fault!" Lovino raged.

"How was that my fault…?" Alfred sighed as he walked past the irate Italian man and over to the suitcase.

"Are you alright, Lovi?" Feliciano asked as he came over to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder for moral support. He didn't quite know why, but ever since they had arrived, his twin's mood had taken a turn for the worse. The southern Italian looked over to his brother and sighed, but before Lovino could answer, he was interrupted by the sound of a high pitched metallic whine followed by a loud crunch. Both Italians whipped their heads back in the direction of the car to see what had happened.

"Here's your suitcase." Alfred said as he set the case down on the grass beside him.

"You broke the seat!" Lovino exclaimed, astounded. He had only been half serious about the possibility of the American breaking anything, but he didn't think it would actually happen.

"No, I fixed it." Alfred replied smugly. "See, it's not stuck anymore." He said as he took the seat and moved it back then forward again. The sound of loose clicking noises followed the action. Neither Feliciano nor Lovino could think of a proper way to respond to that as they stared back with a mixture of disbelief and shock.

"Now," Alfred began as he took a step back to look at the car. "let's get this heap to the curb." He suggested. The Italians watched as he walked around to the back of the car and bent down. Lovino gaped, whereas his brother's eyes widened slightly as the back of the car was lifted effortlessly from the ground with one hand.

"Hey!" Lovino finally snapped. "Put my car down!" He demanded as he marched over to the American, threateningly.

"We need to move it so the tow truck doesn't trash Mattie's yard anymore than you already have." Alfred replied calmly as he started pulling the car behind him as if it weighed next to nothing.

Feliciano stayed behind as the car was hauled away. His brother followed close behind, all the while spouting a loud tirade at the teen as he gestured animatedly. The northern Italian flinched when another crunch was heard, this one was a little different though. He looked down and spotted the remains of what looked like a red and white mailbox, once the car was removed from on top of it.

"Hey guys~" Feliciano called from where he still stood underneath the maple tree. Neither his brother, nor the American seemed to be paying attention to him however.

Alfred sighed as he dropped the back of the car, once it was safely to the side of the road. "Look, I wasn't the one who crashed your car." He tried to reason. "That's all on you, dude. It's not my fault you drive like a lunatic." He concluded with a shrug of his shoulders.

Lovino gasped indignantly. "That's it, Mr." He growled as he leaned into the open passenger side window and collected something from the dashboard. "This weatherman is predicting a 99% chance of shit storm, and it's coming right at ya!" He yelled as he stood back with an arm full of tomatos.

Alfred lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't know you were a weatherman!"

Lovino narrowed his green eyes and grit his teeth at the lack of concern he had just received from his threat.

"Ah! My Texas!" Alfred cried as a tomato was smushed into his face.

-(SC)-

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Antonio asked as he followed his two friends up the old staircase. "I mean, what if he gets like really mad?"

"He haz a point, und it vould be totally un-awesome if he kicks us out. So you better be right about zhis!" Gilbert said loudly as he voiced his concerns as well.

"Well, I can't give you a full guarantee zat zis will work, Arthur is 'ighly unpredictable after all, but if I know 'im even a little, zen we will be getting ourselves free room and board without too much trouble." Francis reassured his friends as he reached the top of the stairs. He then paused as he took his time deciding which way to go. This definitely wasn't the same house he remembered, though it actually was in the exact same location. The old colonial home was close to the city but tucked cleverly out of the people's way. There wasn't any sign that it had been vandalized in any way either, though the national importance of this location might have warded off any potential offenders.

'It must be nice 'aving a child'ood 'ome zat you can still go back to.' Francis secretly mused as he chose the hallway to the left of him. 'I wonder if petit Mathieu ever visits…'

"Do you know when he's supposed to get here?" Antonio asked as he combed out another cobweb from his messy hair. The house didn't appear to have had a proper cleaning in decades, if not more and it was making this venture less desirable by the minute.

"Zat depends if 'e 'as delivered Amérique to 'is brozziar's 'ouse yet." Francis replied after he had cracked open a door to one of the old bedrooms and peeked in. "If so, zen 'e should be 'ere soon." He then opened the door wider and walked in.

"He's going to shtay at his bruder's house?" Gilbert smirked. "How lame."

"Don't you live at your hermano's house, Gil?" Antonio asked as he grinned at his friend's back.

"Nein! I don't live vis him, dummkopf! He lives vis me!" Gilbert defended adamantly as he walked into the room as well, with a huff. "Vhy do vee efen vant to shtay in a crap place like zis anyway?" He asked as he eyed the large room with displeasure.

"I agree with Gil, mi amigo." Antonio said as he stepped into the old dusty room, behind his friends. "This place has definitely seen better days, no?"

"Actually, I waz expecting it to be in even worse condition." Francis replied as he explored his surroundings. "Besides, I don't know about eizzair of you, but I'd rassair not ztay in zee UN lodging next to notre cher, Allemagne."

"You're next to him too, Francis?" Antonio asked as he lifted his eyebrows.

"Oui, right next to him." Francis revealed with a tragic sigh.

"Really? Me too!" Antonio exclaimed with a bright smile. "You wouldn't believe how much paperwork I saw him carrying in with him this morning."

"I vould.." Gilbert admitted in an uncharacteristically subdued manner.

"Oh yeh, that's right you room with him, don't you?" Antonio laughed.

"Vhy vould you efen ask zat?" Gilbert asked as he gave the Spaniard an incredulous look.

"Zen zat just leaves up wis one question." Francis started as he reeled the attention back to himself again. "Do we want to ztay in zis 'uge 'ouse for a mons, or do we want to be ztuck in a tiny room next to an angry German who will most likely be ztaying up late into ze night?"

There was a few seconds of heavy silence as they contemplated.

"I call zhis room, lozers!" Gilbert proclaimed loudly as he tossed his black travel bag into the corner and then rushed over to the old bed.

"ey! You can't just decide zat on your own!" Francis snapped as he watched the Prussian jump onto the antique looking bed without bothering to take off his shoes first. A cloud of dust wafted into the air around him.

Francis shook his head as the urge to sneeze tried to overcome him. After suppressing it, he made his way over to the large window and unlocked the latch. With a bit of effort, he was able to push the glass doors open to let some fresh air inside.

Antonio ignored them as he took the time to take in his surroundings. The old place was rather elegant in a modest sense. Hardwood was laid throughout the house, covered occasionally by strategically placed red and blue carpet. This room was bare hardwood however, and appeared to be the master bedroom for how big it was. There were maps hung on the walls, portraying the "Old World" and the uncharted "New World." Chests and trunks of assorted sizes were tucked neatly beside the antique looking furniture. His eyes traveled to the nearby bookcase. Many of the books were so old that the titles had faded away completely. On the very top of the bookcase, he spotted what looked like a child's toy; a wooden boat with a cloth sail. There was a tiny old fashioned Union Jack carefully placed above the sail at the end of the slender mast.

'Did I ever give Romano anything like that?' Antonio wondered as he stared at the toy for a few more seconds, lost in thought. A moment later, his green eyes slowly traveled above the toy and he caught sight of something extremely familiar.

"Es que mi hacha?!"

Both Francis and Gilbert looked over to their Spanish friend questioningly. He was standing next to a dusty bookcase beside the antique looking wardrobe and staring up at something. They followed his gaze and spotted a rusty war axe mounted on the wall above the bookcase like a trophy.

Antonio looked down with a small frown as he analyzed the strength of the wooden shelves. They didn't look too reliable, even so, he still decided to give it a try.

"Hey, you guys," Antonio started as he turned to look at his two friends. "come hold the bookcase so it doesn't tip over."

"Vhat are you going to do?" Gilbert asked as he hopped off the bed and made his way over to his friend.

"I want to get a better look at that axe." Antonio replied honestly.

"I'm not zo sure zat's a good idea, mon ami." Francis frowned as he voiced his worry, but he came over nonetheless. "Try not to break anysing. It will make it 'arder for me to negotiate wis Angleterre if you do." He stressed as he took hold of one side of the bookcase and held it steady.

The shelves creaked loudly from the strain of the Spaniard's weight as he ascended. It was obvious that this wasn't a good idea, but thinking this through beforehand wasn't something Antonio wanted to bother with at the moment.

"Hurry up!" Gilbert snapped as the bookshelf began pushing back against him in an attempt to topple over.

"Almost got it…" Antonio replied as he tugged at the axe; it wasn't budging.

"Did you 'ear zat?" Francis asked as he listened closer.

"Hear vhat?" Gilbert growled as he tried to push some of the books back onto the shelf before they slid out.

"Oh merde!" Francis gasped. "It's Arthur! 'urry up and get down!" He whisper-shouted up at the Spaniard.

Antonio looked down at them doubtfully for a moment. He then looked back up at the axe and decided to give it one last try. This time however, he put all of his strength into it. With one solid tug, the axe was released from the mount it was held upon. The whiplash caught Antonio unprepared and he was pushed backwards with the axe in his hands as his balance abandoned him.

"Ah! Watch out!" Antonio warned as he fell back.

"Eehh! C'est une Guillotine!" Francis shrieked as he jumped back and out of danger.

"Mein Gott!" Gilbert cried as he just barely evaded the falling bookcase, now that it lacked a second support.

A loud crash echoed throughout the old colonial house, then there was silence. Francis, who was now standing far away and out of danger looked over to his friends in shock. Gilbert gaped back at him from where he sat on the floor, a few inches away from the heavy wooden object that had almost crushed him. Their eyes were redirected when something round and red rolled out from underneath the bookcase and came to a stop next to the heavy bladed war axe that was now implanted into the wooden floor a few feet away. It was a nice ripe tomato…

"You guys are bad amigos…" Antonio wheezed from underneath the bookshelf.

Francis and Gilbert looked back to their fallen friend and cringed.

"If you broke anything, you'll be getting a sound thrashing, frog!" Arthur called from downstairs.

Francis paled

"Merde..."


xXx xXx xXx

~(WMD)~

Le French

petit = little

Mon ami = My friend

Amérique = America

Angleterre = England

Notre cher, Allemagne = Our dear, Germany

Oh merde! = Oh crap!

C'est une Guillotine! = It's a Guillotine!

La Spanish

Mi amigo = My friend

Hermano = Brother

Es que mi hacha?! = Is that my axe?!

Das German

Bruder = Brother

Nein = No

Dummkopf = Idiot

Mein Gott! = My God!

If I've gotten the translations wrong, please feel free to correct me in a PM~

xXx

WMD's fun facts!

The British Flag has many stages, so the one I mentioned is not the one we see today but one before it.

Feel free to leave me a review~