It was a calm day in the countryside of Canada. Not particularly located anywhere, the young colony loved the verdant forests and the slight chill that accompanied every morning until the sun rose. Of course, the chill would only become even more apparent once the winter months would come full force, but that was still a long way off. For now, the newest possession of the British Empire was just perusing through the yellowed pages of one of the books that Arthur Kirkland had insisted that he read.

Speaking of the man in question, the blonde was entertaining himself by staring out the window, his customary cup of steaming tea was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't that much of a detail, so much as an appendage that England always had with him in quiet times.

It was a bit alarming, so Canada chose that time to speak his opinion, but was only ignored by the Englishman.

It didn't matter, Matthew Williams was already used to this kind of treatment.

Although…I wish that someone would pay attention to me.

So, it was only to his greatest surprise and delight when England began to speak to him in earnest.

"Canada…Matthew," the Englishman spoke softly. The young youth with the violet eyes closed his book with a snap, surprising himself with an eagerness that caused himself to blush with embarrassment. He slightly covered his flaming cheeks with one of his hands, but it was all for naught. England didn't pay the sound too much attention to his young colony; his gaze was fixed on the windows.

"Yes, sir!" Canada hoped that he didn't sound too enthusiastic just because someone was actually addressing him. Even though he was just a colony and didn't warrant that much attention—aside from his precious assets and the colonists that were making their homes on his land—he was still pleased that the biggest empire in the world was actually addressing him. "Do you require anything?"

"No," the Brit answered. He continued staring at the scenery out the window. His eyes weren't attached to anything in particular; his stare was only limited to what the wonders the window could have brought him. Matthew noticed that there was a faraway look in the older nation's eyes, as if he was seeing the past instead of the present. It happened often when elder nations had time to reminisce about the past. (France with his stories about his own escapades and romances and England with his tendency to think about his wayward brother.) "I just wanted to speak with you about recent events…"

I wanted to speak to you about your brother, went unsaid.

"Oh?" Canada immediately straightened his posture and retained his composure—exactly like his foster father had taught him. Did it have something to do with his brother? And if that was the case, then how did this issue concern him? Cautiously, he began to speak again, careful not to risk the wrath of the British Empire. "You're not planning on enforcing more laws on him? He doesn't like it when you do that."

That was an understatement.

Matthew was far from stupid, he knew the goings on in the American colonies seeing that his southern neighbor was directly below him.

Alfred, the representative for America, was steadily gathering the momentum to become….to become something more than what he actually was. When Alfred had visited his brother in one of those conference things that they were forced to go to, he had told him some startling news.

Alfred F. Jones, the nation of America, wanted to split from the mother country and become his own nation. Admirable thoughts—slightly stupid, but weren't all geniuses that?—and yet completely risky. There weren't any predecessors of this crazed ideal and most of Alfred's citizens weren't for or were indifferent to the rising tensions between colony and colonizer. It had taken only a few Acts to set Alfred on this journey to becoming completely untethered from the master of the house, but it could also take a few acts for England and America to rekindle their bonds.

Wishful thinking wasn't common sense, but Canada hoped that the situation would resolve itself soon enough. It was almost too painful to hear England talk about his younger brother, especially after the American's many transgressions against the mother country.

Instead of answering Canada's question, England decided to broach a completely new topic.

"You have read the Bible at least once, correct?"

Of course he had read the Bible, France wanted him to be Christianized! The blonde lad wanted to tell Britain, but he had barely any time to utter an affirmative before his elder began to speak again. A hurt look was on his pale features, but Matthew knew that now was not the time to complain.

"Then I suppose that you have heard the parables that our Lord Jesus Christ had told his followers." Arthur tightened his hold on the chair's hand rest before his body slumped forward and his head fell forward into his hands. Matthew knew that his colonizer was a bit off during the past few days the older blonde had decided to visit, now it only appeared to be true. Instead of acting like an aloof gentleman that Arthur often encouraged, he was now acting awfully sentimental.

The younger country didn't mind…it was just so different seeing the empire acting so human and vulnerable, especially when Canada was in the room to witness this one moment of weakness.

Matthew resolved to not approach his colonizer, unless he wanted to squander this rare moment.

England heaved a shuddering breath, one that was full of suffering and sorrow before uttering, "I have heard of this parable time and time again, and I never quite understood it in all of its entirety." He turned to Matthew, a look of desperation in his emerald eyes. Usually stern and arrogant, Matthew was taken aback by how oddly the hue of his eyes darkened with old age and sadness. "Would you like to hear it?"

Back before Matthew became an official part of the British Empire, Alfred would tell his older twin that his older sibling (England, that is) would tell some of the most wicked stories that one wouldn't find the nursery books. Tales of dragons, of soldiers, and of heroes getting their happy endings through sheer will and wit. Who in their right mind would not take up this offer to listen to Arthur and his renowned storytelling abilities?

Without thinking too much on the subject, Matthew energetically nodded his head and moved closer to the empire. A small smile, almost microscopic, but still there, warmed Canada's heart as he listened attentively to the Englishman's unique accent.

"You see, there was this foolish little boy who squandered all of his inheritance on the carnal pleasures that could only be bought in the darkest places of the world. Day after day, the young man would grasp at everything and anyone who could be a source of entertainment or some form of twisted pleasure. His heart would become fragile and frail, slowly becoming numb and exhausted from the futility of his actions. How could someone like him actually find something that would satisfy his needs?"

It was a rhetorical question, but one that Canada decided to answer.

If it was for his benefit or England's, he didn't know. All he wanted right now was to prove that he was actually sitting there and listening. He wasn't like the Prodigal Son in the Bible story. He was here.

He was here for his unusually distraught older brother.

"Nothing could satisfy him."

"Nothing could," England echoed gravely. "Day after day, his bags of money would slowly disappear, leaving the young man poor and defenseless. He sought out jobs that would take him in and feed him. Of course, he had no skills that would prove to be any use in the city. How could he? He could have had everything if he had listened to his father and stayed to claim his inheritance…"

Matthew noticed the slight pause, stiffening when he saw that England's darkened verdant eyes were glistening. It was like looking into a stained glass window, transparent, but telling the stories of jubilation, disappointment and ultimately, sorrow.

"He had to venture to the countryside and ate with the pigs to attain nourishment. Finally…"

"He decided to go back."

"That's right, Matthew."

The young man flinched when he heard that tone of praise and accomplishment. To him, it felt like it was a sloppy forgery of the real thing. This wasn't what he wanted when England was going to tell him a story. What he wanted—no desired—was for England to treat him like he did with Alfred.

It felt like England was only forcing himself to acknowledge his new colony.

Canada didn't say anything in response.

England didn't notice; he only continued to convey the story with a frantic tone, reaching for a younger brother that wasn't there to hear his unspoken apologies and his silent pleas for forgiveness.

"The young man went back to his father—this is the part where I used to be clouded with misunderstanding. After all those years when the father could only think that his younger son was dead, he comes back with nothing to show for it. By all rights, the father could have been angry…He could have whipped that ungrateful lad until he keeled over in exhaustion! Instead…The young man was welcomed back with open arms, presented with the robes of the finest linen, and he was awarded with a feast just for the simple action of coming back. Everyone rejoiced. Everyone was happy."

Not everybody was happy.

No.

"Except for the older brother who was there the entire time," Canada whispered shakily.

Arthur turned away from his colony, preferring to watch as the clouds covered the sun from the view of the windows. The shadows, almost nonexistent before, were now lengthening in width and darkening in aura. It was an eerie sight, but it clearly depicted the muted mood that the two nations were indulging themselves in.

Of course, they both had read the Bible.

Of course, they both knew how the story ended and what the moral of the story was.

It was only now that Canada knew what England was talking about.

After a moment, the former pirate spoke again, as if he had gotten his fill of window watching.

"I suppose you already know how the father responds when his firstborn complains about his younger brother's treatment."

"No, please tell me what happened next."

Liar, you just wanted to prolong the moment he dismisses you and forgets about you for the rest of his visit.

England pressed onwards.

"The father told his faithful, obedient son that he had to throw party for his second born. It wasn't out of mere obligation; the father loved his young son so much that nothing could deter him from embracing him with the love that only fathers could have. The father was so happy, relieved, crying that his young one was back in his arms…back home where he was safe from harm."

The elder nation took that moment to warily rub at the salty liquid that was rapidly leaking out of his eyes. For a moment, Canada watched in amazement as he saw that his superior was breaking down in front of him. It was a moment too intimate for prying eyes, thought the sole observer in that moment. Suddenly feeling like a Peeping Tom, the young colony fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and gestured for England to wipe his countenance with it.

Arthur allowed himself a proud smile before waving away the well made cloth.

"No, lad, the linen is too fine for an old face like mine. Save it for the nice ladies when you decide to go courting." The small grin blossomed into a full-blown smile when he saw Canada sputter at that comment. It was time to get back into business; there was no time to reminisce about his younger brother's rebellion. "Besides," the blonde continued in an amused manner, "a gentleman always provides one just for himself in situations such as these."

Canada backed away from him, slightly cautious so that his movements didn't merit loud noises to announce his presence. Now that England looked like he was back to his old, arrogant self, there was no reason for him to revert back to his state of being a forlorn old man.

Matthew couldn't help but feel a little curious, though.

"What do you plan to do now, sir?"

In response, England stiffened before offering Canada a small smile before standing from his chair and walking to the doorway.

"I suppose that a cup of tea wouldn't be too much to ask for considered the circumstances."

Canada couldn't agree more.