Sealand: he needs no comparison to anyone. But if anyone could compare him to someone, he's worse than America or France, for sure. I don't exactly hate or love him, but if anyone asked, it would be closer to love.

But, something bad happened to my little brother…

He had been severely injured from playing around, like a normal little kid. I don't know what had happened, no one told me…

There he was, sitting in my lap, crying. I have seen him cry dozens of times, but like this? No. I don't recall him crying this badly.

He wasn't himself – not his happy-go-lucky, playful, toy-loving child.

He was injured, injured, injured; the word repeated in my head.

I couldn't sit there and do nothing, no.

I had to comfort him, something I rarely do.

He cried, a lot.

His injures were serious.

"It's okay, Sealand," I said, quietly and calmly. Tears still poured from his cheeks, but I helped wipe them away. "Big brother's right here." I stroked his back.

He looked utterly mutilated.

"Big brother loves you," I whispered. "Whether you realise it or not."

He sniffled and looked up at me.

"If I say anything bad to you, it's not my fault. It's because you're young."

He managed a curt nod.

I smiled at him.

Slowly, he began to dry his tears and smile too.

"I love you too, Big Brother, England."

A/N: I wanted to show a softer side to England/UK :D.