The Author's Note of Awesome: Ok, so I know it's been awhile. *Hides in closet from rabid fans* I have a really good excuse. I've been asleep. For several months. *Fans raise torches* Okay, so not really. I have been busy. College applications people! They take forever. And then, I actually achieved college. But! I'm updating! Hm...so. Constructive happy reviews gain smiles, good karma, and my gratitude. Flames will be used for casting spells, making potions, and summoning evil things.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Story Note of Generalness: So, we went over pairing last time, I know. But I have made a few more executive decisions. First!

Spain/Romano - Because why not? They'll be making a few guest appearances in later chapters.

Russia/China - Again, they'll be making some appearances. Because we've got Nat, and we'll eventually get Bucky, so we're getting Russia as well.

Canada/Germany - So, yes, I understand that most go for PruCan. But, I read this really great fic called Owning Up, with fem!Canada and Germany, and I'm falling in love.

Darcy took a deep breath as she pushed open the door. The Avengers were all congregated in Steve and Tony's hotel room, waiting quietly as she walked in. Tony was the first to speak. "Blondie said that you had some explanations for us."

Nat frowned. "Arthur declared that he was giving you his full permission to explain everything."

Darcy snorted. "As if he needs to give me permission for anything." She sighed. "What do you want to know?"

Clint frowned. "How can you be their sister? You seem too young."

Darcy grinned. "I am a lot older then I look. Older than those two even," she informed them all, gesturing to the two Asgardians. "And we're not exactly human."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "So...what are you then? Another alien race?"

Darcy stared for a long moment before tilting her head back, and laughing. "I don't think we count as aliens," she finally said. "We are, quite literally, the world."

Bruce frowned. "What?"

Darcy pursed her lips, and straightened herself out. "I am the anthropomorphic personification of the Republic of Ireland. The gentlemen you met were... are my brothers. Arthur is England. Dylan is Wales, and as I recall, they're twins. Alistair's the oldest if you exclude me; he's Scotland, and Seamus is my youngest brother. Northern Ireland. The youngest." She hesitated. "I think Sealand's personified as well," she added, a question in her voice. "I left just before the War, so..."

Natasha frowned. "The War? Which war? Vietnam?"

Darcy laughed. "Nah, not Vietnam. That one wasn't even mine to fight. No," she sighed. "I mean the second World War."

Steve froze. "Why?"

The brunette standing before them felt her brow furrow. "Pardon?"

"Why did you leave?"

"I left because I didn't agree with what they were doing at the end of the first war. I left because when I spoke up, my brothers all said that because I was a woman, I had no idea what I was talking about. I left because I had to watch one of my friends suffer at the hands of my family." Darcy's voice had hardened. "I vanished because I was sick and tired of never having my voice truly heard, simply because I was a woman. I left with a reason, Steven Grant Rogers, and until today, I did not plan on going back."

Steve froze, and then bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lewis. I meant no offence."

Darcy's shoulder's sagged. "I know, Steve. I know." She sighed. "Look, I'm going to bed, so..."

"Right," Phil managed, speaking up for the first time. "Everyone but Natasha, out." And he herded them all back to their rooms before bidding the women goodnight.

Natasha hesitated at the light. "Darcy. Are you sure you're alright?"

The other woman nodded. "I'm fine, Nat. I'm fine.

Darcy woke up to the sound of her cell phone going off, an unknown number of the screen. "Hello?" She groused out. "Who is this?"

"Darcy Lewis?" A familiar voice rang out. "It's Alfred F. Jones. We spoke last night?"

Darcy groaned. "I remember. What's up, kiddo?"

"Do you wanna meet Matt and I for brunch? Oh, and Maria."

"Brunch," Darcy mumbled. "Brunch with you, Canada, and Mexico."

"Yeah," Alfred said, his voice sounding a bit less perky. "I understand if you don't. I know I'm obnoxious, but I thought that maybe..."

"Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not obnoxious. Stop thinking that. Where?"

"Where what?"

"Where are we getting brunch?"

Alfred gave her an address where they were meeting, and Darcy drug herself out of bed. Natasha wandered in as she pulling her hair back, and raised an eyebrow. "Hot date?"

Darcy snorted. "Not likely. Bruch with North America."

Natasha hesitated. "As in, your North American counterparts?"

Darcy nodded, adding Alfred's number to her contacts, and grabbing her purse. "Got it in one, Nat." She looked up and smiled. "Don't look so upset. I'll be fine, so long as it's not my brothers."

Nat eyed her. "So long as your sure," the Russian said finally, and watched as Darcy left.

"Darcy! Over here!" Darcy wandered over to where Alfred was sitting with the people she assumed were Mexico and Canada. Sliding into the booth beside Alfred, she smiled at the other two.

"Hello," she said giving a little wave.

Alfred grinned. "Darce, this is my brother, Matthew Williams, from Canada, and my sister, Maria Sanchez, from Mexico. Guys, this is Darcy Lewis, nee Kirkland, from Ireland."

The other two nations blanched. "What," Canada managed. "I thought she was gone for good!"

Darcy shrugged. "I got pissed at my brothers after WWI, so I left."

Alfred scowled at his siblings. "We are not telling Arthur, or really, any of the UK, got it?"

Maria gave a feral grin. "Any reason to piss them off. You sure you're alright Al?"

Darcy whipped her head around to stare at him. "What happened?"

Alfred promptly shook his head. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"Arthur hit him last night," Matt spoke up, and Alfred scowled at him.

Darcy frowned. "I'm going to kill that self-righteous punk," she muttered, making a move to get up.

Alfred stopped her. "No! Please, no. I deserved it, I promise."

Darcy stared at him for a moment. "Alfred, kiddo, abuse is never acceptable."

Alfred shook his head. "It wasn't abuse."

Darcy sat down. "Kiddo, you know that it was," she said softly.

Alfred hung his head. "I know," he muttered, before giving the group a weak smile. "But I'll be fine. I always am!"

Matt shook his head. "Doesn't matter," he muttered. "You shouldn't have to go through that."

Maria glanced over at Darcy. "Now you understand why we're more than willing to let them rot in hell."

Matt snorted. "I saw how they treated you," he told Darcy. "And I know firsthand how Arthur treated his colonies. Why you decided getting together with him was a good idea, I'll never know," he directed the last part to Alfred, who sighed.

"Honestly, I'm regretting that." He shook his head before glancing at Darcy. "Have you met Peter yet?"

"Peter?"

Matt snorted. "Peter Kirkland, the Principality of Sealand. He doesn't really like any of his older brothers, and Berwald and Tino adopted him."

Darcy grinned. "Something tells me that my baby brother's going to love his oldest sister. Do you think they'd let me babysit?"

Maria let out a laugh. "I know they will."