Britannian Idiot, American Idiot.

Act VI. Open Your Eyes to Something More

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Later that day in London—Meeting from 5:00 PM- 7:30 PM per usual as of yesterday.

The World Conference Center, Day 3- Open

It was quiet—too quiet.

Pretty unoriginal phrase, but it was true—it's too quiet.

France noticed this immediately as soon as he walked into the conference room. He stood there at the doorway looking suspiciously at the other countries—something was off.

He took note of every little thing and reason behind them to make sense of what he was feeling:

-China wasn't here because he had volunteered to watch over Sealand and find ways to make the little boy feel better; probably taking the lad to the park or a candy store—so that wasn't it.

-And it's not as if Germany was in charge—then everyone would have to shut their faces if they valued their lives as countries in any way, form, or matter, but even so, it didn't feel like this.

-Was there something different about the decor or placement of tables in the room? No everything looks the same. France reminded himself that when all this is over and everything is back to normal—he would have to visit England again and teach a few things about style to beautify the room and possibly suggesting the whole country altogether also.

-What about the other countries? Were they acting unusual or dressed strangely? Actually to France they all needed his help with fashion and style. But none of the notes France took in his mind were the cause of his strange feeling of the atmosphere.

So what's so different about today? Why is it so quiet? What felt...different?

Of course England was late—again, but this was to be expected of a country who just got transformed into another American idiot in no less than three days ago. No—that wasn't what was different; it's something else. It's too damn quiet...

"Where is Amérique?" Asked France from the doorway taking a step forward inside the room. He held his briefcase over his shoulder in one hand and the other resting on his hip.

France walked forward to the front of the room—staring at the others; waiting for an answer.

That was it. America is not here. He was always noisy at one point or another in meetings. Even if he was pretty quiet you would still know that he was here from his noticeable brown leather jacket that just clashed dreadfully with France's beautiful uniform.

Soft murmurs and chatter began around the room about where they thought America would be. Other countries just looked at each other and shrugged—not really caring where he was. Meetings were boring. The conference was boring. They all just wanted to get back to their lives.

"Isn't he like with England or something?" Poland asked out loud to the front of the room where France stood. "They were totally together yesterday!"

"That was yesterday Poland..." Lithuania said meekly at the upbeat country.

"But they like could be together again today! Duh!" Replied the Pole.

Romano shot up from his seat—pounding his hands on the table's surface, "So where the fuck is England then genius?" The short-tempered Italian hollered out.

"Like, how should I know? Geez."

"So…" Germany started, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed, "We still don't know where America is." He stated flatly pinching the bridge of his nose—well that was a useless conversation; it led them nowhere.

"England could be with America..!"

"So where's America?"

"With England!"

"Where's England smart ass?"

"I don't fucking know!

"Hey stop bickering or else I'll blow your heads off to make you!"

"That's enough Switzerland."

"Hey mind your own damn business!'

"I would if you'd kindly shut your lips."

"Oh you wanna go fancy boy?"

"You guuuuys stop fiiighting!"

"Hey Veneziano—shut the fuck up!"

"Romaaanooo you're not nice to meeee!"

"Now now you two no fighting, si?"

"Fuck off Spain!"

Several countries began fighting—this somehow being like the day before, but with different dialogues. Other nations just watched or tried to go to sleep—some actually getting dragged into the fight. The voices sounded churned together so no one exactly knew who was yelling what—but they eventually figured it out considering what they were yelling out.

Russia grabbed Estonia and Lithuania's wrists and pulled—more like yanked—the frightened duo towards the fight on the other side of the room. "Come on you two. It looks like fun da!"

The terrified countries obediently followed—having last said Pole tagging along.

France—who just watched the whole episode with irritation hinting at the corners of his eyes—sighed then took a seat next to Japan with Germany next to the raven black haired nation on the other side. The Frenchman placed his briefcase on top the table and leaned back in his chair with a hand ruffling up his hair in aggravation.

"Dieu… These people are no help at all..!" France dropped his hand from his head—with his perfect silky hair falling back in place as if it wasn't just ruffled up by a hand. He sighed disapprovingly, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

Germany nodded in agreement and turned his attention towards the door—expecting to see the two idiots walk in laughing and having a good 'ol merry time while the rest of them in the room suffered through very unnecessary matters.

60 percent of the group in the room was fighting in stupid nonsensical fights, and 37 percent being forced into stupid nonsensical fights.

The other 3 percent of the countries were sitting down and behaving like good little countries should be doing during in a meeting—aka Germany, Japan, and who would've thought? France.

Then again—France has been being a good boy for a while. He deserves a treat—and not a repulsive hordearve of a meeting room emitting of idiocy from the many ingredients, that shouldn't mix, inside.

A mouth full—yes, especially with the use of a poorly-made euphemism to say that France deserves a little more praise for what he's been doing and not so much yelling and accusing his name.

Same with China, Japan, and Germany—those three needed some liberation from all the crazy shit that's been going on and the fighting wasn't helping .BIT.

Without the feeling of satisfaction of seeing America and/or England—both or just one of them would have been just fine at the point—walk into the room all buddy buddy and whatnot, Germany sighed and shifted his head back to where it was originally.

"There's no use getting worked up. They'll get here when they get here." Germany sighed again, lower and irritated sounding. "I don't know why I feel so strange… Sure I think it's unacceptable to be late especially when you're leading the event, but I've gotten used to that." He pinched the bridge of his nose and growled softly, "So why do I have this weird feeling that something's not right..?'

Japan nodded, feeling too the same as Germany, "It usually means that something really isn't right—even if we wish for it to not be true. Not only that, but also the events that took place so far would predict future events—I think it's called foreshadowing..? I noticed those on several movies I have watched in the past."

France pondered on Japan's response for a couple of seconds—also feeling weird feelings, "But as you know—those are just movies. They are usually fictional." He thought a little bit more knowing that the idea wasn't far off the mark—it wasn't far at all if you read the air carefully.

If read right, people would know when something's up from just reading the atmosphere—and from what was written in the atmosphere, it was saying that everything is all wrong…

Or at least—something was going to happen…

Evidence number one: Both England and America are not present. It doesn't seem so odd considering how America is and how England is now, but who knew?

Evidence number two: Germany, Japan, and France have this strange feeling in their stomach that something bad happened. Not so suspicious either, but again—who knew?

Evidence number three: The fighting between a group of countries and the asking of 'Where the fuck is England?' had began just as the day before—and something did happen two days before, the biggest and most shocking happening. England crossing over to the American side—even if it was, more or less, against his will.

From what everyone had gathered when they first saw the new England—his whole appearance had changed to look like America, his personality changed to be like America, and his sense of style changed to be like—America, but the other countries noticed that the Englishman still looked like the England everyone knew if that made any sense at all.

(England still looked like England...but who looks like America. He was still the same height of five foot nine, his eyebrows still thicker than what you would call normal (Although his eyebrows not being thick overall actually as people exaggerate of them being.), his whole face and body structure were still that of England, even though his eyes had changed color—they were still bright, strong, and determined, but missing all the other traits the Brit used to have before the transformation, like kindness, loving, protectiveness, and sadness.

In addition to the list of what still made new England look like the old England would be his voice—even though in lacking of a British accent it was still his own voice. Same with his hair—only the color changed and a ahoge appeared, but it was still relatively short and somewhat choppy to give it that spikey look of everyone knew the old England had.)

And lastly, evidence number four: England had just walked in the meeting room with a smoothie in his hand, but no happy-go-fucking-lucky American walking beside and/or behind the Englishman with a hamburger in his grasp and talking about Panic! At the Disco's new album Vices & Virtues—which! Is pretty damn good thankyouverymuch!

Wait... England just walked in with no America beside him...

All country bodies ceased their movements of whatever they were doing and all heads simultaneously turned to gape at the American Englishman drinking from his strawberry-banana ice cream smoothie through a thick straw and just looking back with a raised eyebrow in confusion.

England stopped drinking and lowered his drink from his mouth, licking his lips to lap up any creamy ice cream that had stuck on. He wiped his mouth on the arm of his jacket sleeve. "What? There still smoothie on my face?"

The others continued to gawk at the perplexed Brit. France, Germany, and Japan being part of that group also.

…Where's America..?

Clearly England didn't notice or even cared.

As the countries continued to stare intently at England, the Englishman himself shrugged off the unusual 'greeting' and walked up to the chalkboard. He picked up a piece of chalk and began writing whilst drinking his sweet desert drink at the same time making loud and obnoxious slurping noises as he did so.

"Alright!" Sluurp..! "We g'tta chre'rck—" Slurp slurp! "The'r disco" Slurp slurp slurp..! "dance and'r t'rotally—" Slurp slurp slurp sluuuuuurp! "g'nna p'rty HARD!" Slurp…

Obviously no one could make out any fraction of goddamned sense of what England said. All the countries who were standing up—mainly the ones who were involved in the useless fight— sat down in their seats in a behaved, civilized manner with eyes not looking away from the front where England stood talking nonsense, drinking smoothie, and writing pointless things on the board—trying to understand what the obnoxious American English nation was saying.

Japan—giving up on trying to decipher the mess of words coming out from the Brit's mouth—raised his hand to ask a question.

Of course England didn't take any notice whatsoever because his back was turned to the other countries and was still writing down whatever on the board.

The black-haired man sighed then cleared his throat quite loudly to get the attention of a certain English nation with his arm still up.

England stopped his writing—smoothie straw in mouth to keep drinking— and turned on his heel to find whoever made that very noticeable clearing of throat. Continuing to finish his smoothie, England turned his head around the room until his eye caught the Japanese man with his hand raised.

He immediately opened his mouth to let go of the straw, "Japan!" He points to the Asian country, "You have a question! I will, of course, help you cause that's what Heroes do!" England smiled smugly and changed his pointed hand into a thumbs up. "So what's your question buddy?"

Japan flinched in surprise at hearing England call him buddy—he was used to hearing America saying that to him And the fact that England had just called himself the Hero—that's completely America's thing, it felt like a rule. In fact—everyone flinched at hearing the Englishman say that, along with him saying that he was the hero also... Now everyone agreed that, that—saying that you're the hero—was completely America's thing!

Japan hesitantly dropped his arm down and cleared his throat again to speak, "England-san... Your facts and points are very informative, but I believe we are missing someone." Japan said calmly trying to hint out America's absence.

France closed his eyes and nodded his head, smiling slightly, "Ah and It would be a shame if that someone had missed everything you had to say, non? As you have said yourself—Heroes help." He opened his eyes and turned his head to stare at England with a teasing yet serious look in his eyes. "And you are a Hero oui? It is only natural that you know who is not present so you will be able to help that someone by telling that someone everything you are saying just as you are doing to us at this moment."

England just stared blankly at France—he really had no idea what France or Japan was talking about. Mostly France though because of the way the Frenchman had worded it—very confusing and too verbose. If England were normal—he would have understood everything without a second thought.

France sighed, turning his head away from the oblivious country and to his front again. He began rubbing a temple with his index and middle finger. "Sacre bleu... Angleterre where is Amérique?" The Frenchman plainly stated somewhat sternly.

England widened his eyes and opened his mouth for a silent "Oh..!" realization—about time too. He shrugged, "Don't know. Don't care really. I'm not his babysitter and he's for sure not mine..!"

Mumbling and soft chit chatting disrupted from the other countries. They still didn't know where America was and apparently—neither did England nor did he care actually. Even though the superpower found the meetings to be a…tad boring—and even more so when original England is in charge—just a tad, he would still go to every meeting despite his inability to look like he cared, but he did…to some extent…because he wants to take care of his own country—the USA.

And that included England—even from that short time he had of having the Brit as one of his states. He still cared—he always did, even before all this happened, even before and after the dreaded war…He just… Didn't exactly know it until that one thing he cared about the most slipped right through his fingers like sand in an hour glass.

What everyone didn't know was that—the whole situation was exactly like an hour glass…

Time is running out...


Once again—the meeting ended way too early than it should have. Though, no one would have noticed that the meeting was finished if England hadn't thrown his empty smoothie cup like a basketball to the wastebasket across the room, yelling out, "SWISH!" then just casually walking out the room. No one would have known that the meeting was over until twenty minutes had passed and France piped up saying that England wasn't coming back for the day.

Germany, Japan, and France had congregated together outside of the Conference Center building after figuring out that England was a no show. The Frenchman was currently on his phone waiting and tapping his foot impatiently as the ringing continued on.

With no avail of anyone picking up, France grunted, hanging up his phone and shoving it in his trousers pocket.

"I'm taking it as America-san hasn't picked up once again?" Japan inquired, already knowing the answer, but tension needed to be broken.

Without verbally replying, France simply nodded his head unenthusiastically.

During the meeting, the French country had first tried contacting the American—failing of course to get a hold of the superpower— knowing that the meeting was completely pointless and that England wouldn't care what anyone did for so long as he was permitted to talk about whatever he had in mind and as long as there were still people to their unwillingness to hear. But the Englishman ended up leaving anyway despite his now capability of talking excessively like America.

France ran a hand through his wavy blonde hair in irritation—his mind going back to the meeting in general.

"This has been a total waste of time! And here I thought only Amérique would spend twenty minutes of a meeting to talk about the new releases of video games!" France cried out in outrage of everything that's been happening for the past few days.

Germany nodded in agreement, crossing his arms, "Yes… And there was only twenty minutes in the whole meeting after England finally came in." He groaned in irritation.

"What should we do now..?" Japan asked kind of hesitantly, not wanting to start a fight of any kind considering how stirred up the other two countries were.

France pondered a bit, rubbing his chin, and resting his elbow in his other hand. "Well… For starters… We can meet with China and Sealand. Then we should look for our hamburger obsessed country." He suggested.

"England? Or America?" Asked the German country. "It is pretty hard to define them differently now."

France nodded, "It is rather difficult now, but I mean our missing hamburger obsessed country from the meeting— Amérique. Something's not right and I have a feeling it has something to do with our lacking of an American."

He looked at the other two with a seriousness that was uncommon for the French. "Do you know what hotel Amérique is staying at?"

Japan and Germany looked at each other and shrugged. They both turned back to France seeing that the Frenchman's facial expression changed into a sullen look at seeing that they did not know where the superpower was staying for the week.

Japan's face lit up with a possible answer, pointing up his index finger in an 'idea light-bulb' manner. "Canada-san—he is staying at the same hotel as America-san right? It seems that we all have made reservations in hotels with other countries of the same region of the world."

Germany's face also lit up—in realization of the fact that they indeed did. "Yes... You, China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Korea, and Vietnam all have booked the same hotel didn't you? And now that I think of it... France and I along with the others in Europe are in the same hotel...So that means..."

"Amérique and petit Canada will be in the same hotel..." France said finishing the German country's sentence. "Tres convenient. How odd..." He took out his cell phone again and started to flip through his 'C' contacts, stopping when he had found 'China'.

Quickly, he dialed the number by pressing the 'call button' and raised his phone to his ear—waiting for an answer.

He didn't have to wait long before an Asian voice was heard, "Ni hao! China here! France? Why did you call? If it's about Sealand he is feeling better and we're out at the park aru.

No need to worr—Aiyaa! Sealand don't play by the pond! …Yes I know there are ducks, but don't chase them into the water aru..!

Ah France? So why did you call aru?"

France kept quiet for a second before replying—his mind wandering away as soon as he heard China scream, "Oh uh… Oui I called to let you know that we will be looking for Canada to find Amérique." France informed the long-haired asian.

"What? Why go looking for Canada? America was not at the meeting aru? …Sealand! Stop playing near the water I told you that already aru!"

The French frowned a bit—feeling guilty to have China carry the burden of babysitting someone else's sibling—and someone the Chinese man didn't exactly see eye to eye with, although the two got along well nowadays—but still… "Non. Amérique was not present at the meeting. What we have just figured out is that all the countries are divided up by their ethnic groups—so the same group would be in the same hotel. Canada would then be at the same hotel as Amérique and Cuba."

"How convenient aru… Do you have his number..?"

"Oui, I do, but I don't think he had left the meeting room. We are still in front of the Conference Center so we will just look for him."

"Okay sounds good—Sealand..!"

France sighed, "Meet us at the front of the Center in twenty minutes. Bring Sealand. We will then search for our missing American."

"Got it aru!" -click!-

The French quickly returned his phone into his pocket and looked at the others giving them a nod. The other countries under stood his notion and the three of them ran back inside the Conference center.


They thought they would find Canada pretty quickly—apparently it was harder than they thought... A lot harder than they thought.

"Canada!" Germany yelled out through the halls as they ran through them. "Get out here RIGHT NOW!" The German demanded.

All the workers in the facility immediately moved out of the way or hid from the intimidating country. France and Japan trotted along from behind, both chuckling nervously—feeling awkward about the situation, being the ones following nonchalantly behind the scary German whilst others ran for their precious lives fearing of having them end so suddenly.

The three passed by a couple of the other countries that were just leaving from the meeting room—none of them being the quiet Canadian, heightening the stress of the German even more.

Something told the three countries that they were overlooking and kept missing where Canada actually was—that could be no less than the truth. In fact, it was the truth.

Poor Canada just stood there at the side of the hallway—watching the three countries go back and forth looking for him. He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose from being slightly loose on his face. The Canadian had been watching for a while now—the running around of nations seeking him, but didn't want to say anything until he was finally noticed.

Although, this is not his story and or problem and he knew it, but he couldn't help but leave an a minor indent in this England and America problem that everyone knows is happening at the moment—hard not to notice.

Eventually, the unnoticeable country became every guilty for not speaking up—or at least try to even though he knows there's a slim chance that they wouldn't notice him anyway even if he did speak up—considering his kind and gentle nature. After all—he, by far, wasn't America or the now American Brit.

He sighed again—another day of being invisible, another day of attempting to be seen, another day of failing that attempt.

"Ah! Canada-san—there you are. We've been looking for you." Japan walked over to the Canadian. The other two had—again—ran past Canada again, but Japan took notice and stopped. "I apologize for not noticing you (although I think that you might have a condition that makes you invisible to the world)." Japan inquired politely bowing slightly over at the other for part of his sincere apology.

France and Germany finally completed their hundredth lap of searching around the building back to where Japan and Canada was; both looking rather annoyed that they couldn't find the Canadian no matter how hard they looked—and Japan found him without breaking a sweat.

Well it goes to show that you should use your eyes and not your mouth.

Germany looked mad, probably more than mad because to Canada it looked as if the German was going to pop a vessel on his temple. Canada stood scared stiff trembling while he just watched Germany—and the casual calm France who just smiled nervously and waved at Canada from behind the angry country —storm over towards him from behind Japan who tilted his head in confusion.

Japan snapped his fingers in front of the Canadian's face to get his attention. Canada responded willingly to not look at the frightening German anymore—being as he felt like he was forced to keep eye contract with Germany. "We are in need of your help if you don't mind. You are staying at the same hotel as America-san, hai?"

"Y-Yes.. How did you know..?"

"Just a hunch. Can you tell us what room he's in please? He wasn't present in today's meeting and we think something happened."

"O-Oh..! S-Sure..!" Canada's gaze slowly inched away from Japan's calm face both side of the Asian man's head. His eyes first moved to Japan's left side to see France's smiling cheerful face and a wink. Then slowly and hesitantly moved to the other side—Japan's right—to see a certain pissed German with eyes a glow with fury; threatening that if Canada doesn't talk now, they were going to have a problem yes they are. Germany was exhausted thus being a cranky head.

Canada shrieked silently to himself, immediately turning his eyes away from the scary figure back to serene Japan—oddly enough Japan still didn't know why Canada was acting so nervous.

'U-Uh…um… He's on the fourth floor, room 426…" The Canadian didn't know what possessed him to look back at Germany, but he did and he tensed up even more—his trembling practically visible. Germany's eyes pierced through Canada's soul—telling him to take them to the hotel and the room where America was hiding at.

Canada swallowed hard before looking back at Japan again, "L-Let me take you to him.."

Japan smiled gratefully, "Hai. Arigato." He bowed graciously at the other.

"China should be outside waiting for us right now. We should get going." Germany said surprisingly calmly as if he wasn't shooting deadly stares at the poor Canadian, walking up next to Japan.

Japan looked to his side where Germany had just appeared, "Ah Germany-san..! I did not notice that you were here—" He turned his head to the other side where France had just popped up also, "And I see you too are here France-san."

"Since we're all present minus China who is outside at the moment with Sealand—we should really go. We're burning glorious daylight." France inquired urgingly

Everyone agreed, especially the trembling Canadian whom gladly walked on ahead to escape his discomfort. The rest followed him causally—with Japan still unknowing of what just happened.


Germany cursed out loud, looking up at the hotel building. "It was here the whole time..?" He cursed again. The German nation hated wasting time and that's exactly what they did looking for Canada when the hotel the brothers were staying at was just a around the corner where the conference center was.

They could have been here so long ago and would have made some progress with this problem—but they wouldn't have known what room America was staying so he supposed it was okay and that he shouldn't complain.

Canada nodded, walking inside through the automatic doors whilst the others followed suit. "Um… I think he's in room 426… Which is a level lower than where my room is." Canada mumbled, trying to remember what room America said he was in. Although he was pretty sure that he was in 426. Pretty sure…

Finally they wasted no time—storming through double doors, racing down halls, turning corners to reach the elevator, and luckily the elevator was already on the main floor so it opened up as soon as Canada pressed the 'up' button.

The countries behind Canada shoved their way inside—swearing at each other in their languages and then translating to English for everyone to understand, pushing poor little Canada inside against the elevator wall.

As they got situated and ceased the bickering and the pushing—all the nations stood in silence a good few inches apart from each other and listened to the vague elevator music. Relieved Canada no longer smashed in between the elevator wall and crowding countries.

They reached the fourth floor where the missing America was and began looking frantically for room 426. After minutes of restless searching the came across the room—with Germany just about ready to knock down the door to force an immediate answer from the American, although he restrained himself from doing so, no matter how tempted he was from doing so.

Smart—that's what Canada was, thinking ahead to in knowing of what Germany's thoughts were judging by the country's facial expression. So the Canadian stepped forward first in front of the hotel room door—knocking hard enough to let the other person on the other side that there were visitors.

"America..? It's Canada—and there are other people here to talk to you. We know you're in there so open the door please." He asked through the door kindly, but slightly demandingly.

No answer—Canada pressed his ear against the door to hear any kind of noise from the inside, but to only hear the thick door. "America! Open you door! We need to talk now!" He said slightly more demanding and louder, although his voice was still very soft as he knocked on the door harder.

Still no answer—everyone groaned in irritation. Half of them knowing that they can't break in like last time, other half thinking that they just need to wear gloves this time to break in. Leave no fingerprints behind—cover their tracks.

Even though there was no answer, they all distinctly heard soft murmurs from the inside of the room—so someone was there after all.

Now they all thought breaking down the door was a very smart idea, although they do not normally think this way, but the way things have been going they were all stressed and bothered. Canada was smarter and thought of a way to get America to open the door.

"America, England's here with us and went back to normal. He wants to talk to you."

And in an instant the door flew open revealing the darkened room from the curtains being closed and the bloodshot wide eyed American with a blanket over himself indicating that he was hiding underneath them on the bed in the dark. "England! You're back to normal? You're not that careless jerk anymore? You're coming back to me again? England I missed you!" Tears began to freefall from his eyes. His mind was so desperate to believe what Canada had said that he didn't notice that it was a lie to open up the door and he ran out to attack the one with the somewhat thick eyebrows he saw in a longing hug.

America attacked Sealand by mistake in a hug—tears still falling and crying out how much he missed him—England—although not knowing that it was Sealand, even though the American had to crouch to hug the young boy and England wasn't that height.

"England you came back..! You came back to me..!" America cried out still sobbing and still in unknowing of this pathetic situation.

Sealand was completely stunned and could not speak or even move to tell the American that he was not England. He began to make some effort in doing something, but to only break down crying himself from knowing that this was his fault and that his big brother was still the same uncaring jerk.

"I-I'm not England..!" Sealand choked on a sob, "Big brother is still different and it's all my fault!" He pushed the American off of him. He hid behind the other countries to hide his face. China and Japan tried their best to console the young lad.

America's eyes widen in realization that it was Sealand. He then began moving around, shifting his head in all directions to find England, but was disappointing from not seeing the Englishman. He shut his eyes tight and wept even harder, running back inside his room—leaving the room door open as he collapsed on his bed and sobbed his eyes out. "Why did you leave me..? I gave you my everything..! Why won't you go back the way you were..? Come back England..! J-Just come back...! I know you'll come back soon..! I j-just have to wait..!"

France snapped—he couldn't believe what America was saying. He couldn't believe that the idiotic American had the nerve to say such words. America doesn't have the right—no, the privilege to say such things like he was the Brit himself.

The angered French forcefully pushed everyone out of the way to march in side and grab America by the shirt to force the other to look at him and pay good attention or else he'll get a major ass whooping if not doing what France's eyes told. "Now listen here Amérique, and you have better listen tres tres TRES well!" He scolded, tugging hard on the shirt.

"You are not allowed to say such things as if you think you have it bad! One day! You only felt this way for one day! And do you know exactly how long Angleterre felt this way? CENTURIES! One day! One day you took care of Angleterre! And he took care of you until you left him and he still does that, but not anymore because he's not the same! You are not allowed to cry and feel sorry for yourself and expect everything to go back to normal like—" France used a hand to snap his fingers before clutching on again, "that! When you know tres well that he had been suffering ever since your revolutionary war and you had done nothing to stop his cries!"

France growled huffing before continuing his rant. He tugged on America's shirt harder. How much of an idiot can America be? How insensitive can this glutton be? France wanted to pound the American's head against the wall. Oh the many times England came to him crying or distraught throughout the years each year— and even more so when July neared. France truly felt sorry for the Englishman and did all he could to comfort and ease the Brit's troubled mind and equally as troubled heart whenever England would come to him in wanting of someone to vent to and release his hurt. Sometimes fighting and bickering with the English country was necessary to take the mind away from depressing thoughts that lingered constantly—eating away your brain and slowly reaching the rest of your body until you finally break apart and can no longer stand as strong and firm as you used to.

But even all those times of comforting—France saw how strong England was and still is even through those bloodshot emerald eyes…

But he was so broken and so sad—England was so heartbreaking to look at in his weakness that it would make any intimidating country look away in shame and couldn't help but pity the once great empire—

Non… France thought, shaking his head mentally then staring back angrily at the other. He is still a great empire…

A prince… who's kingdom crumbled down right before his eyes.

Ah…it's just like Angleterre's fairy tale stories…Though this story might not have a happy ever after ending.

America couldn't do anything, but stare wide eyed at the fumed French—stunned by the way France had suddenly lost his cool and collected personality, shocked by the hurtful truth that darted out of the wavy blonde's mouth and pierced the American' ears, and guilt ridden by the way he has been reacting to the incident of England declaring his independence.

The sapphire eyed country knew he shouldn't wallow in his own pity, but he couldn't help it. He was so sad…He longed for his England back again… America groaned at his thoughts—shutting his eyes tightly as he began to cry once again.

France growled angrily—his grasp still on the other's clothing and began shaking him harshly to force him to pay attention again. "Tell me this Amérique—" He scolded shaking the other again to release his tensed emotions as the younger nation's attention was forced upon the angry France. "what do you really want?" France demanded, "Do you really want Angleterre different?"

America began crying harder shutting his eyes again—turning his head away in shame and in eating guilt, "No!" He shouted—choking on each of his sobs, "No I don't want him different!"

"Now tell me another thing Amérique—" France demanded again, tugging harder on the other's shirt—catching America's attention and again making the other nation keep eye contact. "what do you really want back? Your precious state? Or—" He paused for a moment to stare intently at America. "or the old Angleterre? Understand me this garcon…You do not know what real anguish is." France needed to make the stupid American realize that this one day of sadness can never compare to England's never ending nights of tossing and turning and crying in his sleep—his heart aches and heart breaks that kill him bit by bit each day.

Even if America goes through the exact number of days England has gone through after the Revolutionary War—it wouldn't matter because England's days would have been added also, more days of pain. America deserves it, but even as he suffers also—

It wouldn't make up all those lost days England had before then.

America turned his face away from the other in shame—crying his eyes out, hoping that his cries will be answered, but in knowing that England's cries had never been answered…

So why would his be any different..?

The American shut his eyes tightly—intent on keeping them shut to be unable to see the other countries watching down on his weakness, not wanting to see his own weakness.

America choked on a sob with his tears still freefalling and crashing below, "I want old England back..!"

"Now open your eyes and tell me one last thing..! Why do you want him back?"

America quickly opened his eyes to look back at France with tear streaming eyes that trailed down his flushed cheeks—leaving a trail that sparkled in slight lighting from the hall.

"B-Because I love him..!"


Allo Allo my darlings~! I'm very sorry that I haven't updated in a bit, but I had A LOT of work here at home plus the oneshots I've promised to my fellow winners of the contest. Another contest will be underway in a few and In will explain it after I get my thinking, work, and stories organized so I won't overload myself with overwhelming work.

I also apologize for the dragging chapter, but this is just a stepping stone to the next parts so bare with me oui? :3

Now the next few chapters will be the countries and/or only America's attempts to bring the old England back! And this is where you—my fellow readers and REVIEWERS—come in! Give me your ideas of what they should do to bring England's memory back and turn him back to normal! So make sure to review and say what they should do and I might just put it in my darlings~!

Ah and if you want to know what is taking me so long for each update, check out my accounts I've been most active in:

Youtube: ArabellaNitehart

Deviant Art: ArabellaNitehart

email:

You can bug me on my youtube, deviantart, email, or here to update my stories and post the contest oneshots :3 I'm an England cosplayer and have several matters to attend to that are and not limited to upcoming convention Acen, an England music video for a fellow youtuber who's in need of hetalia cosplayers (Im very happy to say that I was chosen to be England :3 Go visit her youtube channel (DigitalxKeyblade) and check it out. (She still needs more cosplayers. First come first serve)

I had just finished two England photoshoots (One being a trial and the other being official) and the official shoot is in video on my youtube and the pictures are uploaded on my dA along with the trial shoot. Feel free to chat with me anytime for I check everyday—I love making friends. :3 And Phamenia I shall have a vid up just for you my dear! :3

Review please! I appreciate the love! Srsly. Review. Nao