After Arthur had fixed his pants issue and figured out how to walk again, the three were able to leave the hospital without an issue. The doctor had cleared him to just simply walk out. And, after a short embarrassment with Alfred trying to help Arthur buckle up, the three drove off to Arthur's house.

After only a short while of driving, it was obvious to Arthur that they were in London. They passed the Big Ben and Arthur could see the London Eye in the background as they continued driving. All of these sights seemed so familiar to Arthur, even though he had never seen them before.

And Arthur's house was less like a house and more like a mansion. And the thing looked like a pain in the ass to upkeep. This was really his house? Arthur's eyes were still wide with shock as he stepped out of the car.

"Welcome home, Artie," Alfred laughed upon seeing his expression.

"I live here?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah," Alfred stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. It just occurred to Arthur if he had even changed since he brought him to the hospital. "I-I have the keys, if you wanna go ahead inside."

"Why do you have my keys?" Arthur crossed his arms.

"I-I took them from you after the crash," Alfred stumbled through his words as he led him to the front door.

"Hey, where did Mathew go off to?" Arthur quickly looked behind him, only to see Mathew right behind him. He let out a yelp, stumbling back into Alfred's arms.

"You okay there?" Alfred chuckled as Arthur moved away from him, blushing like mad.

"Fine," Arthur mumbled as Alfred opened the door and held it open for him. The inside of the mansion was rather impressive, too. It was huge inside! Did Arthur really live alone in here?

"So…um…would you mind…if I uh-" Alfred stumbled around nervously. "Take a shower here? I kinda haven't in a couple days…You know, what with the…um…crash and all."

"Um, sure," Arthur wasn't really paying attention to what Alfred was saying. As he disappeared upstairs, Arthur set about exploring this gigantic house. He had gotten through a sitting room, a TV room, another sitting room, a dining room, and the kitchen when he heard a doorbell ring.

He ran by Mathew without even noticing him and got to the door. He stood uncomfortably at it, though. Should he answer it? The bell rang again as he looked through the peep hole. It was him again…what was his name?

Arthur opened the door and Francis immediately went to hug him tightly.

"Oh, Arthur, I'm so happy you're okay!" Francis yelled. Arthur guessed this was from when he couldn't hug him in the hospital.

"Um…thanks," Arthur said uneasily. "Can you stop hugging me now?"

"Sorry," Francis muttered and separated from Arthur, who went to close the door.

"You keep on popping up," Arthur sighed as he went to go back to the kitchen. He hadn't been able to see what he had stocked. "Were we close or something?" Arthur opened up the fridge to look inside.

Francis thought for a moment. "Um, yes," a long pause. "In fact, we were together."

"Together," Arthur stated, looking over the fridge door and at Francis. "As in…"

"As in dating," Francis grinned.

"You have got to be kidding me," Arthur rolled his eyes. "Me. With you?"

"Obviously you can't remember anything if you can't remember our time together," Francis scoffed.

Arthur closed the door to the fridge and started walking over to the cabinets. "How about you prove that we were together? I don't see any pictures around here of you."

"That's because you're not the kind of person to have pictures of their boyfriend around the house," Francis stalked him to the pantry.

"I still can't believe I would have been with someone like you," Arthur sighed, turning around to go check something else. But he didn't get very far. Francis tilted his chin up towards him and leaned in to press his lips to Arthur's. At first, Arthur was in shock. He almost tried to pull away, but something stopped him. Something inside Arthur made him kiss back.

"Hey, Artie, I heard the doorbell. Who-" Alfred still had his towel being held up to his wet hair when he stopped in the doorway at the scene.

Arthur pulled away from Francis to see Alfred's wide eyes, his glasses in his hand not holding the towel. Even though he had just kissed Francis, seeing Alfred standing in the doorway with wet hair and no glasses. He was attractive…

"Hey, Francis, can we talk for a sec?" Alfred's voice cracked, it was obvious he was trying to fight tears.

"Sure," Francis almost skipped over to Alfred across the room.

There was an odd silence as the two walked away and Arthur stayed in the kitchen. All of a sudden, a door from upstairs slammed shut.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Alfred scream at Francis. There was a muffled sound, which probably was Francis trying to make a case for himself. "I don't give a shit!" Alfred yelled again and Arthur couldn't help but run up the stairs and find the room they were in. He had to hear what Francis was saying.

"What made you fucking think…" Alfred's voice almost dropped to a murmur, but Arthur had found the door. "Why did you…"

"I'm just trying to think of what's best for Arthur," Francis protested.

"I am what is best for Arthur!" Alfred whined.

"Your first date with him and that happened to him?" Francis yelled. "Sounds like you're great protection."

"I am! It was just that one time! I didn't know he would be there! I'm sorry…" Alfred apologized like a little child.

"I just want to make sure he will be safe," Francis spoke. The two weren't really arguing anymore. "I think it would be better if it was me to look after him."

"But-but… I just think… Please don't take him from me…" Arthur could just feel he meaning in the words he had just spoken. "I promise I won't mess up again."

"I'm sorry, Alfred."

Arthur could hear footsteps nearing the door way and immediately backed up to the top of the stairs. He started looking around like he was lost while the two left the room.

"I say, where is the bathroom in this place?" he tried desperately to lie, but he was blushing like crazy.

"Down there," Alfred pointed in some vague direction behind him and walked past Arthur, down the stairs.

"Third door on your left," Francis sighed and Arthur wondered how he knew so much about his house. It was obvious he probably wasn't his boyfriend.

"Right," Arthur sighed, walking slowly to the bathroom even though he was stressing out big time. He quickly locked the door and he looked in the mirror.

This was his first time looking in the mirror since he had woken up. The very first thing he noticed was his huge eye brows. Damn were those things giant! And then there was his blonde hair, slightly dulled with dirt and lack of a proper shower. His eyes were green, like a forest.

He decided to use this time to take a shower. This was obviously the shower Alfred had used before, the walls were still wet. Without going to find a towel, Arthur went ahead and started it.

The room filled with mist as Arthur stepped into the shower, feeling the water get rid of all the dirt and grime. And then he started to think. The mist swirled into images, things like a little kid and flowers and chocolates. And then he remembered a restaurant. There was this man there, with gelled back brown hair and terrifying blue eyes. Just seeing that man…

Arthur's vision went black.

"It doesn't matter that much, Alfred," Arthur sighed.

"Yes it does," Alfred was looking around the restaurant. "He's bothering you."

"Alfred, I appreciate you caring about me, but it doesn't matter that much."

"Fine, just tell me when he's really bothering you."

"Well, he's walking towards us," Arthur muttered.

"What?" Alfred whispered as a man walked up to the two. He placed to hands on the side of the table and leaned towards them.

"Hello you two," he was obviously British. "I've noticed you two talking about me."

"And how do you know it's about you?" Alfred snapped, he tried to assert his authority, like any normal guy would.

"You are very obvious," the man sighed. Arthur noticed his short, black hair was gelled back roughly and his blue eyes were almost terrifying.

"Well, you're bothering Artie," Alfred said, but the man stopped him.

"Shut up, I'm not interested in you," he turned his head towards Arthur, the intensity in his eyes making him shiver. "You, on the other hand, are an interesting specimen."

"Excuse me?" Arthur demanded. "I refuse to be talked to in that manner!"

"Sure you do," the man chuckled, his teeth were obnoxiously white.

Arthur woke up in some room he had never seen before. The walls were white and dull, there was an oak desk, table, and dresser. The bed he was on leaned against the wall furthest from two doors that probably led to a bathroom and out of the room. He was laying on top of the deep red covers of the bed, his head leaning up awkwardly on the four fluffy pillows that were resting behind him. The bed had no posts, it just kind of sat there. Arthur noticed a person sitting on the rolling chair at the desk, it was Francis.

When Arthur looked down at himself, he noticed his clothes had changed. He was wearing what looked like a military suit, but it was all green, the colour of his eyes. The whole thing looked awkward on him, considering he was wearing mismatched socks.

Wait a second. He had passed out in the shower… And he was in new clothes…

"Arthur, you're awake!" Francis nearly ran over to him once he noticed Arthur's eyes were open. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"Did you dress me?" this question was a more pressing matter to Arthur as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Um…oui," Francis rubbed the back of his head. "I think these clothes look better on you than those hospital rags."

"Right," Arthur sighed.

"So, what happened? Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Arthur lied. "I just slipped is all."

That man in Arthur's dream. He just seemed so familiar to him, like he'd seen him somewhere before. He could have sworn he had seen someone just like him at the hospital…

"I'll be fine," Arthur said as he stood up on the opposite edge of the bed as Francis. "Is-is Alfred still here?"

"Oui, so is Mathieu," it seemed Francis had just gotten his confidence back, for, right before Arthur went to open the door, he turned him around and kissed him again.

Arthur wanted to fight, get away from him, but he just couldn't. He felt like he had some sort of history with this guy. Maybe they weren't "together" like he said, but apparently they were now. And there was something about him, something so familiar…

The two walked downstairs to find Alfred and Mathew watching something on TV. It looked like a hockey match, and it was amazing to see Mathew so hyper and happy and loud. Arthur had only seen him blend in to the background, but now he was practically getting into a fistfight with Alfred over which team was better.

Arthur chose to sit down next to Alfred on the couch facing the TV.

"Hey, Artie," Alfred immediately turned his attention away from the TV, but he still had this huge, attractive smile on. His teeth were perfect, Arthur noted. "Are you okay? What happened."

"Fine. Just…slipped on something," Arthur pretended to be distracted by the hockey game.

"Slipped," Alfred obviously didn't believe him, Arthur could tell in his voice. "Right."

While the three watched the game, it was almost like Francis disappeared. Mathew became interesting to be around, yelling at the referees, even though they couldn't hear him through the TV. Alfred was getting intense, too. Standing up abruptly when his team was close to scoring, and punching in the air and yelling in victory when they actually got the puck in. And Arthur just laughed at watching the two.

They looked like brothers and looked like they bonded like brothers. Even though Mathew looked frail, Alfred wasn't afraid to hit him or pin him down when the two argued.

The hockey game ended with Mathew's team winning, which was a given, considering it was a Canadian team going against an American one.

Something came on after the game, but Arthur didn't pay it much attention. He dozed off, dreaming about two little kids running around and having fun. They looked like brothers and looked like they bonded like brothers. One looked tiny and frail, and one was obnoxious and loud. But the two looked like best friends. The obnoxious one was his, he didn't know how he knew that, he could just feel it. He had seen this kid before…in another dream, were they in a wheat field. The other kid looked familiar, as well.

"Hey, Arthur," something shook Arthur awake and he looked up to see Francis looking at him. "You've been sleeping a lot lately. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Arthur looked around to find that Mathew had left and Alfred was sleeping face first on the other couch, snoring loudly. How had that not woken Arthur up before?

"You'll get used to his snoring," Francis chuckled.

"Think I already have," Arthur sighed, letting out a grin. Alfred reminded him of a teenager, someone sleeping all hours of the day away, taking up an entire couch and kicking whenever he felt like it. His snoring, however, wasn't annoying. There was something almost attractive about it.

"I've made some food, if you want any," Francis watched as Arthur got up. "It's about dinner time."

"Is it?" Arthur couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. This guy was supposed to be France, right? French cooking was supposed to be good, right? Something deep in Arthur's gut made him think that some other kind of cooking was better. English food?

Arthur didn't make it very far towards the kitchen before Francis twirled him around and kissed him again.

Alfred stopped snoring.

But Arthur was the only one that noticed.

So, here is this chapter! I wrote this one rather quick, so sorry if it's not the best.

Please review so I can feel good about myself and I don't own anything, like Hetalia or...anything...really.