Knocking interrupted France's reverie. Sighing he put on a straight and relaxed face. He finally figured out what he was going to do. It was not an evil revenge like he'd planning. Frankly he didn't think he go through hurting the people he cared about again. In the forest he wasn't spilling tears for himself but for the hurt he put England through. England might not see him as a friend but France saw England as one. The look in his face broke his heart. How could he be a monster like Italy had said? So the revenge will be closure. It will be heart to heart. For who was he if he could not forgive others? That is not the love he wanted to spread.

The knocking increased rapidly. "Alright already, be patient." France opened the door. Low and behold it was America at his door. That was interesting what is it that he wanted? "America? Why are you here?"

"To speak with you of course." America said simply with no hint of a smile or giggle in his eyes. Hmm…then France should listen. He stepped aside to let him in. What was the harm? France led him to his favorite sitting room. The walls painted white to brighten up the room with a bunch of old little knickknacks that he had collected over the years. His favorite was the hat he had kept from when the time England was in his pirate years.

Sitting France lit a cigarette offering one to America who declined. France took a deep breath of the smoke letting it calm his nerves even farther. "What is it you would like to speak of America?" France cocked his head he really never had America visit his lovely home before.

"First of where ya at the conference? No one saw you." America seemed to be a bit fidgety. France could feel waves of restlessness from him.

"Vous see I was not at zhe conference. I wanted…some time to myself alone. I was not up to going." France answered somewhat honestly. If leaving information out was a lie than he lied. He just didn't want to tell the full truth of what was going through his mind. It was dark and scary place that he just pulled himself out of. He did not want to dwell in it further. America seemed to believe him so he accepted the answer.

"Well, you see it was a little weird not having a fight between you and England. It wasn't the same for some reason." France smiled he guessed it was quite awkward without their bickering to fill the silences. He still did not like being the target for "jokes" and harsh statements of pedophilia. Besides when was the last time he ever groped some one and not just the times he was trying to get England to have some fun. Which was what? Only once every now and then?

"Anything else, America?" France wondered that couldn't possibly be the only reason America came over. Why come out all this way when he could just be called just as easily? There was definitely something bothering him.

"It's…well it is England. He's acting weird. Not just his usual uptight self. I can't explain it. Something is just off." Ah, so it is England that has America worried. France knew America cared for others but just didn't seem to know how to show it. So he caved in just like France.

"Hmm, really? Well, no worries America I was planning on speaking with England. Now you have given moi another reason to do so." America seemed placated with this. He looked at the wine France had out. Chuckling he poured America a glass.

Soon after the glasses just kept getting filled and empty. France felt a fuzz of warmth that wine usually gave him as an effect. They emptied a whole bottle and a half of his. It seemed he needed to get some afterwards. They haven't talked for a while until America said something catching France completely off guard.

"France? If you ever hurt England like that again. I swear I will give you the same amount of pain you gave him. No one hurts my brother." France gazed into America's blue eyes. They were full of promise not threat.

"I know. I know." It was all he could seem to say.

Part 3

England has been restless for days. He couldn't sleep it seemed all his memories of the past were catching up with him. The most of them were the ones where he and France were younger. Though of course there was the regular dream of flashbacks of when he was raising America. He no clue what was France was going to do especially if he was angry enough to skip a world meeting. He was trying to sip some camomile tea to hopefully put him to sleep. Yawning he shuffled to his bedroom.

His room was inky black. In his home it was way past midnight. Not wanting to trip and face plant into the floor he turned on the light. As the room filled with a low glow he almost choked on his tea. There sitting on top of his covers was France. France stared straight into his eyes. England couldn't pin point his mood. Wait a second...bloody hell how did he get in his home!

"How did you get here!" England snapped at him.

"Honhon you forgot to lock your window." France seemed back to his normal self but England was still wary. He just never knew with France. He had amazing stalker skills though.

"What do you want?" England couldn't say anything elaborate so he settled for being blunt. France flinched when he asked as if he was guilty of something. Well he was, he still had some marks on his neck from France's outbreak.

"You and I need to talk, non?" France was back into his usual self. England's gut said France wasn't here for violence which he didn't expect. France patted the bed next to him ordering England to sit. Sighing England went and sat exactly where France patted the bed. France stared down at his now healing bruises. Shame filled his eyes at the sight. He gazed back up into England's emerald colored ones.

"Yes, go ahead."England waited expectantly. France seemed to ponder on what exactly he was going to say. He started then closed his mouth a least 3 times before he spoke.

"Je suis desole, England. I won't make any excuses for what I 'ave done. I knew what came over me and I take full responsibility for those bruises on your neck but I will not lie to you. I could not stand what you had said to me. It made me zhink zhat you truly did not care for me as if you thought I was some creepy pedophile whore. I hated the sound of it. I just want to ask you a question. Do you really hate me all that much?" France had closed in on him his face about 5 centimeters from his face.