...

~(WMD)~

I am So done with this winter!

'Thoughts' "Speech"

-(SC)- = Scene Change

~(TS)~ = Time Skip

Warnings for - Canada's Cold Snap and The Italian Spy's Useful Information

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Three Way Conundrum

Canada turned back to England with an angry look upon his face. He then pushed his cold cup of tea away from himself, accidentally spilling some in the process and stood up. The teen placed his palms forcefully to the table and glared down at the Englishman. "That was unnecessary, Arthur." He said as calmly as he could.

"It was necessary. If I am to help, I need to understand the extent of the problem." England replied in a composed fashion as he frowned up at the looming Canadian.

"You didn't have to upset him like that." Canada replied coolly.

"I wouldn't of had to, if you would have just told me what you know, instead of forcing me to drag it out of your brother." England retorted as he crossed his arms.

"What good does it do for you to know?" Canada asked. "You can't do anything about it."

"You don't know that." England stated.

"It's his memory, Arthur. You can't just cure that like you can a cold." The teen said as he glowered down at the Englishman.

"Well at least I can try." England replied then narrowed his emerald eyes up at the Canadian before him. "That's more than you seem to be doing." The Englishman felt a chilly atmosphere descend upon them like a winter storm.

"You think I haven't tried..?" Canada asked as he returned the glare with an icy stare of his own. "I've been trying for more than a centaury!" He snapped. "What have you been doing?!"

Despite feeling as if he had just been verbally slapped by that last comment, England was struck with an even greater worry at this new found information, as the weight of the problem became even more upsetting than what he had previously thought. 'More than a centaury..? How have I not noticed it until now? And how has Alfred hid it so well for so long..? What the bloody hell even caused it?!'

"What are you two talking about?" Italy asked as he walked over to their table. "Ita sounds exciting." The Italian smiled. Canada looked over to their uninvited guest with a small frown whereas England simply quirked an eyebrow at the Venetian.

'Lad doesn't seem to be able to read the situations appropriately.. I guess Alfred isn't the only one. No wonder they get along so well…' England grumbled inside his head as he uncrossed his arms then reached out for his cooling cup of tea. "We were just having a private and civil discussion," England started as he shot a look up to the still looming Canadian. "nothing to concern yourself with, Italy."

Canada sighed as he took the subtle cue and sat back down calmly. "It's a family matter. I'm sorry, Feliciano." He apologized as he gave the Italian a small smile.

"Is Alfred having trouble remembering things?" Italy asked, not taking the hint that it wasn't any of his business.

England gave an exasperated sigh. 'So I see Alfred isn't the only one who eavesdrops either..'

"Feli, this is kind of personal…" Canada said quietly as he looked down at the table.

"Eh? But he isn't the only one." Italy informed, gaining the attention of both Canada and England as they turned back to face him.

"Who else do you know that is having memory problems?" England asked.

Italy shrugged then gave them another smile. "Everyone has memory problems every now and then." He replied with a laugh. "Justa last month, I forgot where I put my pasta."

England and Canada both deadpanned, feeling as if they should have expected this from Italy.

"Then I remembered I left it at my fratello's place." Italy continued, undeterred by the looks he was receiving. "But when I went back to go get it, Lovi had already eaten it.." Canada sighed as he only half listened to the Italian's story.

"Oh yeeah~" Italy said suddenly as a thought occurred to him. "A few years ago, Lovi told me that Antonio was having trouble remembering things."

"Is that so?" England asked, though his interest in the Italian's story was all but lost.

"Si, he told me that Antonio had actually forgotten when they had met each other and he was even missing a large portion of Lovino's childhood." Italy said with a small frown.

"Really?" Canada asked as he gave the Italian his full attention.

Italy nodded to him. "We were both really worried about him, but after awhile, ita just went away."

"So he can remember now?" England asked as he too was now listening intently to the Italian's words with greater interest.

"I'eh think it took about five years for him to regain his memories." Italy informed. "Lovi never stopped trying to get him to remember, and then finally, one day he just did."

"What did your brother do?" Canada asked as the hope that had nearly died within him, flickered a little.

Italy frowned then gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "I'm not sure.. I think if you want to know the details, you should just go and ask Lovi, directly."

Canada gave a small nod. "I'll do that." He agreed quietly.

"Are there any other cases like this that you know about, Italy?" England pressed. This information was starting to sound promising.

"Hmm.." Italy looked to the side pensively for a moment. A small but humoured smile then spread across his face. "Mr. Austria became really forgetful for awhile as well. Ita really seemed to bother Ms. Hungary and she kept blaming it on Prussia for some reason." The Italian paused for a moment, his hazel eyes becoming downcast before he continued. "Eh, there's also Francy pants…"

"What about France?" England asked with a little more concern than he usually allowed.

Italy frowned deeply then looked away. "..He told me a story once, after we had captured him. It was about how something precious to him had been lost a long time ago. He said that he had eventually found it, but.." Italy turned back to England with an unhappy expression. "He told me that he had lost it all over again. I'eh thought he meant his land, but he told me it was something more important than that."

"More important than his land?" England asked as he quirked an eyebrow at the Italian.

"Yeh." Italy nodded. "I didn't understand what he meant back then either, but then I thought about it for a really long timeh. There are only a few things more important to us than our land, right? And that would be our people, our loved ones, and our-"

"Our memories.." Canada finished with a distinct sense of forlorn.

"Precisamente." Italy agreed.

"Did he say if he ever got them back again?" England asked with an underlining worry in his voice.

"I'eh heard him speaking with Antonio a little while back when he was having his own memory problems. He said that they usually come back on their own with timeh." Italy replied with a small smile. "So, how long has Alfred been missing his memories?"

A heavy silence fell over the conversation as England preoccupied himself with his cooling cup of tea while Canada had a faraway expression set in place.

Italy tilted his head and gave them both a happy smile. "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll remember everything by the end of the month." He reassured. "I'm going to go find Lovi now, I think he went outside."

"Thank you, Feli. I'll be out in a few minutes, then we can all go back to my place." Canada said before giving him a faint smile.

"Alright, we'll be outside waiting for you." Italy replied. He then turned and departed much the same way America had a little while ago.

"Well, I suppose this in encouraging.." England sighed. Canada looked doubtful again, however.

"He said Spain got his memories back after only five years… Alfie's memory hasn't seemed to have had any improvement and it's already been over a hundred years…" Canada replied dismally as a heavy feeling of despair settled in around him again.

England gave the Canadian a sympathetic look. "There must be something we can do. Perhaps his memories need to be stimulated somehow." He suggested.

Canada's eyebrows lifted slightly as his brother's words floated back to him from last night. "Have we done that before?" The teen bit down on his bottom lip softly as he remembered the subtle sadness of his twin's words.

"First, we simply need to get him to realize he is actually missing memories." England continued as he pushed his cold cup of tea away from himself and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms again. "That will no doubt be a project. You know how hard it is to get him to admit he has a problem.. the wanker.." England grumbled.

"Actually.." Canada started. "Alfie said something unusual last night. He said he was having a feeling of déjà vu.."

"Really?" England asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. "What brought it on? Do you know?"

Canada involuntarily blushed at that and turned away. "W-well, no.." He stuttered.

England narrowed his eyes at the teen, suspiciously. 'You're a horrible liar, Matthew. Your brother can even come up with better lies than that.' He berated the teen inside his head.

"Well then," England started after clearing his throat. He then stood up, gaining the Canadian's attention. "I think I should be getting home. I need to ask Spain about his memory loss. I might even talk to France.." He added as an afterthought.

"Wait." Canada said, stopping the Englishman. "Papa is staying with you? And Spain too?" He asked, confusion written on his face.

England scowled. "Yes, along with Prussia!" He spat.

"Why?"

"The bloody frog blackmailed me again for a free place to stay. I'd like to toss them all out on their lazy bums if I could." England seethed.

"What does he have on you this time..?" Canada asked with a light smirk.

England grit his teeth at the mental image. "He has a photo of me in a most undignified state that he took last month at Alfred's house. It was right after that bloody alien had doused us all with that fowl smelling liquid. I'm sure you recall how unpleasant that was."

Before Canada could release a quiet laugh at the Englishman's expense, he froze. "Wait, he has a picture of you from last month? I though Alfie broke his camera."

England frowned. "As did I. Somehow that wanker managed to save all of his treacherous photos he took of us that week.

Canada paled as an obvious look of distress came over him. "Maple.." He whimpered. "We have to get those pictures back from him, it could be disastrous if he shared them with anyone!"

"For once, I completely agree with you, lad." England replied with a look of determination.

-(SC)-

Once Italy had found his way to the parking lot, his cheerful expression dropped again. 'More than a century, huh..? That's a really long timeh.' He thought to himself. He had only asked how long it had been because he wanted them to elaborate. Italy had actually heard most of their conversation after America had left. He was concerned because whatever England had said to America really seemed to have upset him, and that was rare. He wasn't used to seeing his friend unhappy, nor had he ever seen Canada even remotely angry. This memory problem must be something serious, that much was evident from the amount of worry America's family was showing for him.

The Italian's feet slowed to a stop when he spotted America leaning against his brother's car. Lovino was beside him ranting angrily about something while the American just seemed to be laughing it off. Italy stared at the scene for a few seconds as he studied his friend. America was acting like his normal self but behind that carefree expression, Italy found himself wondering if his friend was really that happy or if he was simply forcing himself to wear a smile. The Italian felt a twinge of guilt for never considering this before. He had only once seen America truly sad, and that had been a long, long time ago, back when he had first met him.

'I wonder if he remembers that. I know I do.' Italy mused, though a moment later, another depressing thought occurred to him. 'I never told them about Holy Roma… I should have told them that sometimes, no matter how hard you try to help, some memories never come back…' The Italian didn't want to concede to that but from the amount of time the American had been missing his memory, then this might just be the case. It would probably take a miracle or an absurd amount of pure luck to help him now…

'I wonder if Alfred is that lucky…'

~(TS)~

Once back at the house, Arthur found he had the whole place to himself for awhile. Gilbert had left a note on the kitchen counter about something, however the Englishman found it entirely useless due to the fact that it was written in German. Though, he felt it probably had something to do with the electric company. He had asked the Prussian to wait at the house until the electricians were through assessing how much it would cost for repairs in order to get the lights on. Gilbert had finally agreed, though he wasn't too thrilled about it.

To Arthur's pleasant surprise, the old colonial house was actually fairly up to date, regarding modern utilities. Matthew must have had it renovated a few decades ago, though he didn't understand why. After all, it didn't appear as if anyone had actually attempted to live here once it was done.

Not that he would admit it, but Arthur had been kind of rethinking his decision on whether or not he really wanted to stay here. Without modern facilities, the stay would probably be more of a hassle than he would have been willing to handle. But now, the idea was becoming much more reasonable. With a little monetary incentive, he could probably have the repairs finished by tomorrow or the day after, depending on the extent of the damage. Perhaps, he could also have the plumbing checked out at the same time. But right now, the Englishman had something completely different on his mind.

"What do the three of them have in common with each other?" Arthur wondered aloud as he sat down at the large elegantly crafted table in the dining room. His Scottish Fold was sitting in the chair next to him, like a proper gentleman whereas Francis' Persian was relaxing on the table top like a lout. Arthur hummed thoughtfully to himself as he set his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands. "There must be something relevant that happened to each of them. But what…?" Arthur asked in a casual tone as if he were directing the conversation towards his feline audience. Francois purred in response as he swiped his silky tail through the dust on the table in front of Arthur.

The Englishman sighed as he looked with displeasure at the layer of dust. "Either way.." He continued in a more depressive manner. "Matthew definitely has a viable worry.. Alfred has been missing his memory for much longer. Perhaps it isn't as simple as I had previously hoped..."

Francois replied with a snooty sounding meow as he swished his tail through the dust once more. Arthur chose to ignore the obnoxiously French-like response and instead continued to stare down at the table. His emerald gaze was attracted to something carved into the dark maple. He hadn't seen it before due to all the dust, but now it was just barely visible thanks to Francois.

"What's this?" Arthur asked curiously with a hint of irritation. He then lifted Francis' silky cat with care and set him back on the floor and out of the way. After that, he reached over and wiped clean the area so he could better see it. The words "Alfred was here!" were carved into the hardwood in an overenthusiastic fashion.

Arthur groaned as he stared down at the defaced tabletop. "Of course you were here, you muppet.. Why the hell did you feel the need to remind us…?"

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~(WMD)~

The next two or three chapters are probably going to be a little tense, but there's really no way around it! Afterwards it'll finally start getting fluffier~

Il Italian

Precisamente = Precisely

xXx

Looks like I left you with more questions than answers~

But if I just came out and explained everything, it wouldn't be a mystery anymore, now would it? o.o

Who here is good at history?

Feel free to leave me a review~