America awoke the next morning with a frigid chill stinging as deep as his bones. It didn't take too long for him to realize that half of the blankets he was wrapped in had fallen off. As soon as he noticed this misplacement, he hastily assembled the covering around his frail body tightly in order to restore some heat. America was about to doze off when the warmth finally settled in after quite a while of waiting patiently for it to return, but instantly flinched awake when he heard someone inquire, "Did you sleep well lad?"

"Yes," America nodded in response after recovering from the slight shock, "but the room could've been a little warmer."

"Warmer?" England tilted his head, and added, "When I woke up this morning, it felt as if we were all stuffed into an oven. At first I thought France was just trying to make us miserable. Although it didn't take me too long to realize that he must have turned up the heat for your sake."

Then the Brit smiled with amusement, "Considering the fact that you were practically a cocoon of blankets this morning."

America couldn't have cared less for how he looked in a pile of blankets, he just wanted to stay warm. Which was not at all an easy task for him considering his condition. Eventually England's amusement was replaced by a smile that contained nothing more than forlorn as he questioned, "Are you really this cold all of the time?"

America nodded, "It feels like it takes a lot to keep me warm now a days for whatever reason, and I don't understand why. It's not a big deal though. I'm kind of used to the cold feeling, ya know?"

The tiny grin that England had tried to keep up finally faltered at those words. Feeling as if the conversation would only fill his his heart with more sorrow, he decided to change the topic, "I have something to say about yesterday."

"And what would that be?" America inquired as he watched England nervously look around the room. It was clear to the American that the Brit was uncomfortable with his word choice when he spoke, "I'm sorry about all of the drama I caused yesterday. I don't know what came over me, but it was no excuse to lose my composure, and worry you as such."

"It's fine, really." America reassured, and explained, "you don't need to feel ashamed. If anyone caused a lot drama yesterday, it was definitely Prussia."

England cringed with disgust at the mention of the name. America could feel the waves of rancor radiate off of the now angered Brit as he began to rant, "I swear, I never want to see that albino ever again. After what he did. It was just so inconsiderate and low! There was nothing you did to deserve such humiliation! Also, what is with his constant abuse for the word awesome!? It is not an appealing word at all, and the fact that he practically says the word in every sentence becomes far too annoying! There's no way I could describe how much his word choice bothers me! I just wish I could slaughter that stupid narcissist!"

"Wow," America's azure eyes widened in awe, "I mean, I'm not really a huge fan of Prussia after what he did yesterday, but don't you think you're taking it a little too far?"

Casually, England replied, "No, taking it too far would be going to his house, and murdering him in his sleep. I was merely expressing how much I disliked him. Besides, wishing ill will, or death, or any negative covet upon someone is possibly the worst form of revenge someone could even consider using. It never works since you never get to have the satisfaction of forcing your point across to them."

Well you're always trying to act like a gentleman, so isn't it low for you to want revenge on anyone? America had wanted to ask the question, but knew perfectly well that the outcome would only lead to what he deemed a pointless argument. If it hadn't been for the condition he was in, a quarrel with England would still be one of his favorite pastimes. The sudden change in personality always did make America wonder, Can major depression alter someone's personality? Maybe it's just me, but it feels as if I've been acting a lot more like Canada lately. I mean, he always refrains from using negative terms against others, and when was the last time I've ever seen him participate in an argument? Was there actually a time when that sweet nation had malicious thoughts?

An awkward silence evaporated into the living room's atmosphere as America continued to examine his thoughts. Eventually, the younger nation became aware that his former mentor had been waiting for him to respond. He decided to ask, "So where's France?"

It was as if England had forgotten about his pique for Prussia, for his voice contained a casual hum when he answered, "France just left a few minutes ago. He said that there was an absence of fresh food in the kitchen, and that most of the items in the fridge had expired, so went out to get some groceries."

Oh look! Someone's decided to waste their money on you! America's inner critic jeered, That just makes you feel wonderful, doesn't it? Greedy pig! If the young nation didn't already feel slightly ashamed by the idea that anyone would offer him charity, his inner critic managed to set him over the edge with violent stabs of guilt. It was almost to the point where America wanted to tear off his own skin. After all, the dermis that held him together, and practically represented him in a unique, physical way was becoming itchy from the empowering shame that washed over his body. He flinched when England asked, "Are you okay Alfred? You just suddenly became so distant."

America turned his gaze towards England, and assured, "I'm fine."

"Whatever you say," England replied with obvious ambivalence. Then he decided to change the topic, "By the way, you've been asleep for quite a while. It's nearly noon."

"Wait what?" America questioned, his eyes widened with shock. England nodded, an amused smile plastered on his face, "You must have been exhausted."

America glared at England with a look of disappointment, "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You just looked so peaceful," England explained, "I didn't want to disturb you."

I don't care if I looked peaceful, you still could've woke me up, America thought with resentment as he tried his best to restrain himself from actually saying the words. Of course, he managed to do so successfully, but then sighed when he realized, I guess it doesn't matter, you wouldn't have let me exercise anyways. Besides, nothing else interests me, so I practically have no reason to even live today. No reason to live at all. He closed his eyes, and snuggled into silky fabric that made up his nest of blankets. The warmth that nuzzled his cheek was enough to drag his mind into a comforting daze. Which allowed him to forget his negative thoughts, and turn his focus from any outside distraction that caused his emotions any harm. However, the sensation didn't last too long, for America awoke from his short trance when he heard England voice, "Are you going to sleep already?"

"I'm tired." America mumbled as he closed his eyes once more. England observed his former colony's condition for a few moments before finally saying, "Well, if you're tired. I guess you can take a nap."

England sat down on the couch, and began to read a book he happened to have with him. He ended up reading it the whole time he waited for France to arrive. It was in fact the most intriguing book he had read in quite a while, so absorbing that when he heard the front door suddenly open, he flinched, and braced himself. He looked up, only to see that it was just France. England thought with embarrassment, I wish all of those wars didn't make me so jumpy. Oh well. There's nothing wrong with being prepared, I guess. England decided to walk over to France, and ask, "So, what did you decide to get America?"

They both continued to amble until they were in the kitchen as France began, "Well I bought some fruit, vegetables, milk, yogurt, a little bit of cheese, eggs, flour, and some other ingredients I usually use for cooking."

"I think you're going to have to make the yogurt thinner," England explained, "it's just too thick. Maybe you could use it in something like a smoothie?"

France gawked at the shorter nation as if he grew a third arm. England interpreted the silent insult immediately, and snapped, "Oh come on! Don't tell me you're shocked that I know an ingredient to a simple recipe! My cooking is not nearly that ghastly!"

After a moment of silence, France suggested, "Maybe we should have America make the smoothies, just to be safe."

"No! Bloody git!" England nearly yelled, "Seriously, are you really this stupid? It's obvious that having America cook would set him on off the edge! Besides, he'd manipulate the meal just for the sake of his inhumane diet!"

The harsh words held no effect on France's mood whatsoever as he replied, "Sorry, I guess I wasn't thinking. Of course America wouldn't want to cook anything right now. For some reason I thought that would help him."

"That's not at all what you were thinking!" England scowled, "You were indirectly trying to prevent me from preparing any food! Just go away and let me make the damn smoothies!"

France left England alone in the kitchen without saying another word. He didn't want to anger the Brit any further. It did seem to be the most logical thing for the France man to do based off his experience with the Brit. However, the tactic proved to be ineffective, for the moment England had finished making the smoothies, he stormed out of the kitchen, and into the living room where France sat patiently on the couch. By the time he was only a few inches away from France, he glowered, and held out a smoothie in front of him, "Why don't you just tell me how I managed to miraculously burn this still nearly frozen smoothie?"

"Calm down Angleterre," France tried his best to hide the laughter in his voice, "It looks just fine."

England continued to glare at France, "You're being sarcastic, aren't you?"

"You're so controlling," France finally allowed himself to laugh, "if I thought you did terrible, I would've told you so."

France and England turned their attention towards America as the youngest of the nations demanded drowsily, "Do you guys think you could keep it down? I'm trying to sleep."

"Oh, well we were about to wake you up anyways," England explained, "I made you a smoothie."

"I'm not hungry." America replied quickly, hiding his face under the blankets. England walked over to kneel down next to America, and held out the he happened to still be holding smoothie to him, "I understand that you're not feeling hungry right now, but you do need to eat something."

America lifted his head, and shook it violently, his voice quivering, "I don't want to."

With his free hand, England wrapped an arm around the American's lean shoulders, and assured, "I know you can face this challenge, even if food has become your biggest fear, but please do eat it."

America gazed into England's eyes before finally nodding, and began to procrastinate on eating his meal. Gradually, the pace in which he consumed the smoothie began to pick up, and by the time he was nearly finished, he was practically chugging it down. England smiled with approval, and when America handed him the cup, and then he asked, "Are you still tired?"

"Yes," America answered quietly, and added, "but I can still stay awake."

England replied, "No, go ahead and sleep if you're tired."

America buried himself deeper into the blankets in order to achieve a comfortable position, which was not a challenge at all. Before he dozed off, the words France had told him had been repeated in his head, You will always be a handsome nation in your own way. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. America analyzed that words for quite a while before he mentally questioned, Is what France told me true? Am I trully a handsome nation, or was he just lying to make me feel better? It was his inner critic who answered the question, You know perfectly well what the answer to that question is, idiot.

Meanwhile England and France were hanging out in the kitchen, taking care of the dishes that had been used for the smoothies. When they had finally finished, France stated, "You know Angleterre, I never noticed that you had such a motherly nature. I guess you do an excellent job of hiding it from everyone with your bitter attitude."

"I'm only bitter to you git," England scowled clearly offended by France's comment, "because your the only nation that gives me stupid labels that do not describe me at all."

"Don't take it personally," France replied, "it wasn't suppose to be an insult. You truly are a motherly figure, and that's what Amerique needs. I think you should be thrilled that you're able to help him out with such a talent."

England suppressed an annoyed sigh, "I'll never be as feminine as you portray me. Just keep that in mind, please."

France laughed, "I don't care, I still love you."

Resisting the urge to lunge at France, England retorted, "That doesn't mean I love you back, and don't you dare think I ever will."

France embraced the Brit, and smiled, "Whatever you say, mon petit lapin."

For a moment, England grimaced at the touch, but forced himself it relax as he thought, I guess I can tolerate the stupid frog's affection, for now. As long as he doesn't take it too far.