AN: Yay! This one is a bit longer! So please enjoy and review!

England sat down, folding his hands in contemplation. "I promise you..." Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair.

There was a sudden knock on the door as it slowly opened, a nursing standing outside the door. "He's in here, Mr. Williamson."

"Thank you." A sudden voice responded as a man quickly stepped inside the room. He was about 5' 11" with brown hair and pale skin. A black pea coat fit snuggly around his body, with a red scarf carefully tucked around his neck. He had strange red eyes that Arthur had only ever seen on nations, but this new man was no nation. Although he looked prestigious and well groomed, similar to nobility.

"Who are you?" England quickly stood up, cautious of anyone that entered the room.

But the man completely ignored Arthur as he ran to America's bedside "Alfred!" Reaching down, he knelt next to the unconscious man, grabbing his hand. "It'll be okay, bud." He looked up at England, suddenly realizing there was another person in the room. "Who are you?"

"Who the bloody hell are you?" England retorted.

"Oh, my apologies." The man quickly stood up, reaching his hand out. "How rude of me! My name is Peter. Peter Williamson."

England looked at the man's hand for a second but then cordially replied the hand shake. "How do you know Alfred?" Arthur questioned.

Peter looked down at Alfred's body and sighed, seeming to be flying through past memories. "We're pen pals actually, as odd as that sounds." He turned back to England with a smile. "We wrote back and forth to each other when he was in the army. Afterwards, we decided to meet up."

England paused for a moment but then nodded. "How did you know he was here?"

Peter pointed toward the window, motioning to the end of the plane that was still sticking up over the tree line. "I was coming home from work and saw that. I recognized the plane as the one America flew to come see me and knew right away something was wrong."

"I see." England sighed as he sat back down with ease again. "Well, he seems to be doing better than he was initially. He was awake for a little bit before."

"He was awake?" Peter questioned eagerly, looking back at the American.

"Yes, England replied nodding. "Unfortunately he didn't really say much." Sighing he tried to remain calm, seeing as a new person was in the room.

"I see." This time Peter seemed rather quiet. "Well, is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not really," Arthur sighed, turning his direction out the window. "But I do have some things I need to look into." He slowly began to stand up. "Visiting hours are almost over anyways. Care to walk downstairs with me?" He didn't know Peter well enough and didn't want to leave America alone with anyone, even if this was a friend of Alfred's.

Peter looked back at America one more time and then nodded. "Sleep well, my friend," he said quietly and then smiled slightly as he slowly sunk his hands into his pockets. Turning toward the door, he motioned for England to follow him.

Arthur and Peter slowly walked down the hallway having small talk with each other.

"Yes, he was always rather the hyper one!" Peter laughed, referring to America.

"Oh believe me, I know," Arthur replied with a wistful smile. "I did raise him after all."

"You raised him?" Peter questioned. "How is that possible? You look the same age."

England laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well actually, we couldn't be further apart in age. But you're human, so I guess you wouldn't know that." He paused a moment as he began to explain. "Have you ever heard about the nations?"

Peter tilted his head to the side in confusion. "I haven't actually. What do you mean?"

Arthur sighed, seeing as America never bothered to actually explain to his friend how he actually worked. Clearing his throat, Arthur began. "In this world, there are two types of people you could say. Regular human people and then nations. Nations are people that are created from a countries 'personality' I guess you could say." He paused for emphasis. "They aren't like ordinary people. They live as long as the country they represent and they have traits according to the major overwhelming statistics their country presents."

"So like their personality reflects the overall populous?" Peter questioned.

"Yes, exactly." England smiled.

"I see." Peter nodded. "So in other words, a country is only as strong at the people who support it?"

"I guess, in short terms yes." England smiled. "But it doesn't just stop there." He paused. "Each country has a certain power that they can use. I'm very good at tunnels, traps and a bit of magic, while America is un-humanly strong."

"I guess that would make sense why he survived the plane crash then," Peter commented. "He was probably goofing around and accidentally turned off auto-pilot or something."

England paused, thinking back to what Alfred said. "Yeah-or something," he commented quietly. Sighing, he realized they had already reached the exit. "Well then," he nodded. "It was nice meeting one of Alfred's friends." He smiled at Peter and went to shake his hand again.

"Likewise," Peter replied with a smile as he started pushing open the door. "It was nice meeting Alfred's older brother, but now if you'll disculpe me, I'm going to go get some dinner. Some pasta sounds wunderbar." Grinning the man turned away, exiting the building.

England tilted his head in confusion and quietly said, "What an odd man." He then too quickly exited the building. "I wonder what he was doing in England?"