Disclaimer: Yeah still don't own it.

As Arthur finished speaking, he waited for an eternity in his worry. There was silence. The girl had shown nothing through his explanation, not a quiver in her face. It was as if he had been talking to a statue.

They ended up at a bench in the park. It had mercifully stopped raining and now Evelyn didn't feel cornered with all the open space around them. Though, internally, he wanted to take her back home and wrap her in thick blankets. His heart jumped into his throat and he was certain he suffered a mini-stroke when Evelyn started walking toward that tree.

Evelyn had remained facing forward throughout his entire explanation, her gaze fixed on a tree while his flitted nervously all over the place. Now she was walking away from him and he felt the fractures in his soul more clearly than if they had been painted on his skin in florescent paint for the world to see. She turned before reaching the tree half way and made to walk back. Arthur braced his heart for the tongue lashing he was sure to receive.

She didn't look at him, eyes focused hard on the ground. With a yard between them, Arthur felt his resolve break. His lower lip trembled and he bit it to keep it in place which made it hard to breath with his shaking. Then the girl turned walking back towards the tree.

Arthur felt the air whoosh through his lungs. She was just pacing! Pacing like so many of his past Prime Ministers had done when they learned about the nations. He choked on the half hysterical laugh trying to leave her with her thoughts. He had a momentary thought about one of the self-help pamphlets Gabriel had given him, as he cyclically went through the pain and relief of her walking away and back.

Evelyn held herself as taut as a bow the second before it was released during the entire explanation. She did this for Arthur; she had a strange feeling he'd react negatively if she started pacing while he spoke. Her thoughts flew as the words shakily tumbled from Arthur's lips.

Nothing, nothing, would ever be the same again. Before all this, before that damn Frenchman had kidnapped her, she was just getting the hang of life. Now, she knew nothing at all. She didn't know what to do and the person she would've asked for help (and that was a scary thought in and of itself—when did Arthur become that person?) was the one who betrayed her. That was the problem. Evelyn felt betrayed and there was no one to go to because they had all betrayed her. Even her own mind was betraying her! Her thoughts would never be her own again, not with this…this voice in her head.

That wasn't the worst part however. No, the worst part, the one that really scared her, was that all they said made some sort of weird sense. She wanted to trust Arthur, God she wanted to trust Arthur, and what Gabriel had said stuck with her like a knife to the heart. She had betrayed Arthur by believing he could ever be so cruel to treat her like a pawn. Damn him and his logic! This would be easier without him. Wouldn't it? Hell, she didn't know anymore. She felt like she was shaking all over; adrenaline was building up in her system and she could feel her fingers start to involuntary tap her legs. Life was supposed to be complicated, but was it supposed to be this complicated?!

And she was still mad at Arthur. Damn it, why didn't he trust her?

Finally, she stopped, facing away from him. He did his best to wait patiently for her to say something. His fingers might be tapping against his knee and he might be running a hand through his hair every now and then, but he was being as patient as could be expected.

"I need sleep," she said simply.

Arthur visibly deflated. It was not what he expected, but it wasn't the worst that he could hear. It actually probably meant he would still have more time since she seemed willing to come with him. "The guest room is still made up for you if you wish."

Evelyn nodded once in acknowledgment. Voice had been miraculously quiet for the past few minutes even though he added his own comments during Arthur's explanation. Now, he complained about how he missed over thirty years and he wanted to catch up! Evelyn ignored him. Voice wasn't trying to take over anymore since William (should she call him Scotland?) threatened him.

The house was silent, the type of silence that left the little hairs on the back of one's head defying gravity, which only served to put Arthur more on edge. He inched warily into the hall keeping his body between Evelyn and the living room. He searched for any sign of his brothers. The shadows in the living room were the same as ever, yet without the lights on Arthur couldn't determine if his living room had made it through the evening unscathed. Paused, body held in a way favorable to jumping away from danger.

Evelyn kicked off her shoes behind him. She hadn't made a sound since her declaration of sleep, but Arthur was determined to see it in a positive light. Evelyn pushed past him almost as if not seeing him and Arthur jogged quickly to get in front of her and defend her from any harm. Arthur found himself wishing Alfred had said something to the girl about his siblings, but her zombie like movements made him think he had not.

A crash had Arthur jumping in front of Evelyn like a valiant sacrifice. Evelyn showed no emotion at the crash, and moved around Arthur's extended arms to get to the guest room. Shouting and muffled sounds he could only hope were apologies shattered the eerie calm of the house. Arthur dashed around the girl once again to protect her from whatever had destroyed whatever had crashed.

They both paused for a minute to look in the kitchen, the one room with a light actually on. A ceramic bowl was in pieces on the floor covered by, what looked like, half-mixed dough. William's trousers were splattered with the mixture Arthur found he couldn't help a laugh. If the liquid didn't have flour in it, it would have looked like William had wet his pants. Patrick held an incriminatingly dough covered wooden spoon, his celery green eyes were bright and his face showed shock as if he couldn't fathom what happened. Bran sat at the table with a cup of tea and a baby sheep on his lap. The look on Bran's face made it appear as if he may have been the reason for the broken mixing bowl despite the fact he was all the way across the room.

Evelyn paused, looked, then continued on like the scene was normal. Which, based on the brothers in the room, it may have been completely normal. This would have been a normal response except for the refrigerator door barely hanging by a hinge. Arthur turned and watched Evelyn just walk down the hall. He turned back to make a list of damages to his kitchen.

On second look, there was a massive amount of dough stuck to the ceiling, most of it dried, though, as he looked at it, he had the strange feeling he had seen this same type of formation in damp caves. Arthur took a deep breath already trying to think of a way to get the stalactite off of his ceiling. He continued to assess the damage around the room, his eyes landing on the clear window in his oven. Something moved in it, something greyish, but he couldn't tell. Suddenly the glob slammed against the window and Arthur could swear he could see fangs as it sucked on the glass.

"I can explain!" Patrick wailed.

Evelyn woke amazed at the first dreamless night she had in months. She remembered vague images of seeing an asylum with the Kirkland brothers in patient scrubs and cookie dough bubbling down from the ceiling though, for some reason, she didn't think this was a dream. For a moment, she contemplated that she may have actually seen it sometime in her haze from last night. She shook her head removing the thought and smiled as she stretched enjoying that small miracle of sleep.

That's not to say she slept well. No, she was too busy thinking about everything everyone had told her, wondering what exactly made her so special and what she was going to do now. She didn't necessarily like it, but who likes having their life turned upside down? Her life took a real turn when her parents died and now it was taking another completely unexpected horribly large turn that she had no idea how to deal with. She would though. If nothing else, she learned that she would deal and she would figure something out.

Coffee….

Oh, shut up. She would never get used to that though. Throwing off the covers, she dressed quickly and made her way downstairs concerned when she heard the sounds of cooking in the kitchen. Evelyn rushed into the room staring in horror at the smoke rising from the pan on the stove and the Welshman just standing by intensely watching.

She pushed him aside turning off the flame and removing the pan looking at the bits of charcoal that she assumed used to be sausage in disgust. Bran complained loudly about how he was trying to be nice and she just ruined a perfectly good breakfast, though the smile on his face held hints of evil to it that didn't match the words. Evelyn ignored the smile and gave him a look of pity scraping what she could into the trash and putting the pan in the sink. Bran picked up the salt shaker dashing the charcoal with a few sprinkles. Evelyn raised an eyebrow, wanting to, but not wanting, to ask Voice if it was a Welsh thing.

"I think I'll cook this morning," she replied smiling and placing the pan in her hand in the sink. She thought she heard a thunk from the oven but a look at Bran showed him staring at her. She turned back to the cabinets taking out another pan and a pack of sausages. When she turned to use the stove top however Bran didn't move. He cocked his head at her his face neutral, but a hint of something in his eyes. When she went to open her mouth to ask him to move, Voice screamed that it was a bad idea without knowing if the Welsh brother had consumed three cups of tea yet.

Bran still didn't move standing directly in the middle of the stove, leaning on the ugly green bath towel that was now on the ovens handle. She looked at the towel for a moment. Normally, Arthur had cute little tea towels he had embroidered on the oven, not a full sized bath towel. She set her pan on the oven angling herself to cook around the Kirkland brother who had decided to make a nuisance of himself. Oh well, she smiled to herself turning the stove on without warning. She didn't get the desired reaction, but at least he quit leaning against the stove.

Just as she finished up, Arthur walked in scowling. "Bran, I found your sheep curled up at my feet like a dog again. I know I can't stop you from bringing them in the house, but keep them out of my room!" He stopped abruptly when he noticed Evelyn putting together plates. He raised an eyebrow at his brother eyes widening.

The sucker thing was still in the oven. Turning the oven on had made it subdivide into little sucker things. They had found a mixture that worked, but had basically resorted to sautéing the things until they resembled charcoal in a skillet. The big one they weren't sure about. Bran gave him a head nod letting him know the girl didn't know about the thing. He was afraid it would send her over the edge.

"He made the tea," Evelyn informed Arthur setting the plates on the table and gesturing at Bran.

They ate in silence for a few minutes besides Bran's backhanded compliment, "She's not Franny, but it's not bad." Arthur snorted muttering that France wasn't that good of a cook.

Evelyn forced herself to finish off the last bite before setting her fork down. She took a deep steadying breath then started, "I want to finish college."

Arthur and Bran shared a slightly confused look.

Evelyn continued. "This whole nation thing…I'll probably have to learn a lot of stuff for it, right? I mean, politics isn't my thing and I barely passed Economics and there will be a lot of stuff I'll have to do like you do," she gestured a little wildly at Arthur, "so I'll have to learn all that, but at least I have a guaranteed job. That's better than I thought. I mean, I didn't know what I was going to do. I'm not like Nina who's going on to Law School or Jess is going into graphic design. So, I'll be a nation—not like I have a choice based on what everyone said, you're just born one—but I want to finish college. So, yeah."

No one responded for a moment as they tried to piece together exactly what she said. She didn't realize how much she rushed trough it trying to get it all out before she lost her nerve.

Finally, Bran answered, "There's more than one of us who have multiple degrees. Finishing your one shouldn't be too hard."

As Evelyn glared at his twin, Arthur felt the weight that had been weighing down his shoulders lift. She was staying. She wasn't leaving him. If she had…he didn't know what he would do. He couldn't lose another one, especially not after getting Alfred back after all this time; he would never recover.

"You may have to cut back on your classes," Arthur warned her sipping his tea. "We will work out a schedule for you. You won't just have to learn certain things. There are also several meetings you will have to attend…"

"I thought we weren't trying to scare her away," Bran quipped.

Arthur ignored him. "…and people in the American government you will have to meet." He swore under his breath. "I do not look forward to dealing with that Cabinet again."

Evelyn choked on her coffee. Voice whined about the waste. "Wait, I have to meet the President and all them? Like in the White House?"

What's the problem with that? I wonder if the couches in the Oval Office are still comfortable. They were great to sleep on. Voice mused. She could almost see him leaning back with his hands behind his head

I'm sure they replaced them from the Seventies. And I voted for the other guy!

"Of course you have to meet your President," replied Bran somewhat mockingly. "We represent our people and we work with our governments. I thought you explained all this?" he asked Arthur rhetorically.

The English twin waved him off. "We'll work on it. We have to introduce you to them soon, however, so they can also get used to the idea of working with you. Just remember, they'll leave office in a few years while you'll still be there."

It felt like a large lead weight just settled in her stomach. What had she just signed up for? She paused taking a sip of her drink.

"Did you kill it?" Patrick called out running into the room. Arthur spat his tea out. The young redhead ran into the kitchen and Evelyn heard him open the oven only for the growling hissing sound to resound through the room. She glanced at the twins. They quickly went back to making sure everything was normal. "Aww all the little ones are gone!" Patrick sighed shutting the oven door.

"What is in the oven?" Evelyn asked suddenly second guessing her decision.

"Chipmunk," Bran spoke suddenly. Patrick loaded a plate with food dancing to the table.

"That didn't sound like a chipmunk," Evelyn glared at him. She wasn't going to do anything if the brothers kept lying to her. William appeared, more zombie like than she had been last night, as he made his way into the kitchen.

"What's in the oven?" Evelyn snarled at him feeling her temper rise.

"Chipmunk," the Scot yawned at her scratching at his stomach.

"It's what I named it." Bran smiled at her. Voice started screaming something about for her sanity, she didn't want to know.

"Not to worry, Evelyn, things like this only happen here," Arthur said trying to give her a smile though it looked rather strained. Evelyn found herself once again reconsidering her decision.

A/N: *warily peeks around the corner holding Captain America shield to protect herself* Hello. I know it's been a while especially since I left it on that cliffhanger and I had such trouble writing this chapter...I hope this makes up for it though! And I already have a good chunk of the next chapter done so you shouldn't have to wait too long for it. Once again, my beta is awesome at characterization!

Thank you to everyone still reading this. Your reviews really do keep me going.