Four months.

Four long and torturous months.

Arthur groaned as his alarm went off, reaching over in a lazy fashion as he slapped his palm down on the snooze, letting out a sigh as the silence finally graced his ears once again. Slowly he raised from his spot, tossing the blanket off of himself and to the side as he swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up.

He could smell the faint aroma of bacon, quite the potent smell it had, along with some calming music. It's source being the downstairs kitchen but the lighthearted tunes and intoxicating smells travelled up the stairs and into his hall quite easily.

Arthur shook his head as he got himself dressed, quickly running a brush through his hair to try and somewhat tame the mess it had become before he made his way out of his room and into the hall. He heard the faint sound of humming which only grew in volume as he made his way down the stairs, peaking into the kitchen as he raised a hand to rub his eyes.

"Why are you up so early, frog?" He mumbled out. In truth, he was thankful for his old friend's company. Once word had started to travel about the incident it eventually reached Francis' ears. He had immediately come over to Arthur's and had since spent a little over three months now as a self proclaimed guest. Arthur was normally more of the loner type, quite enjoying his time alone. However, Francis' company was welcomed and somewhat needed during this time.

The Frenchman only chuckled in response, "It is a beautiful day, non?" He continued to hum his soft tune, flipping the bacon in his pan with ease. He normally didn't make something so greasy as part of a breakfast piece, however it was a lovely Saturday morning. It would be nice to shake things up just a bit.

Arthur just gave a slight roll of his eyes as he walked fully into the kitchen, making his way over to the table as he pulled himself a chair, sitting down quietly and turning his head to watch as Francis cooked, "I suppose. You know, you don't have to make our breakfast each day. I can cook too.."

Francis didn't comment. Any other time he'd normally respond with a quick jab towards Arthur's tasteless cooking but, given the circumstances, he was doing his best to be a bit nicer during this time. Though perhaps that approach was only working against them, as Arthur and Francis both longed for nothing more than a bit of normalcy again.

Arthur only turned his attention away from watching Francis work as his phone began to ring. Reluctantly he removed himself from the table and walked through the archway into his living room, lifting up the phone from it's home on the end table.

"Good morning, Arthur Kirkland speaking." He tried his best to sound awake, but he was exhausted. Hadn't even gotten to have his morning tea yet.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Kirkland-" It was an American accent, a somewhat familiar one. It was Alfred's boss.

Arthur's mood was already starting to drop once again. Why on earth was he calling? At this hour, it would be an ungodly morning time for them back in America. Furthermore, why did it sound like a child was crying in the background?

Arthur decided to speak up as there was a brief moment of silence, "I'm sorry to just cut to the chase, but, what are you calling in regards to?"

"Ah, well.. One of our officers was out investigating in a field not too far from here, complaints about someone trespassing. Turns out it was a little kid, pretty much a toddler."

Arthur rubbed his forehead as he listened to the man speak, "I don't see how this has anything to do with me."

"Well, the toddler is claiming his name is America. We ran a check and we can't find this kid in any of our systems.. As far as things are concerned, he doesn't exist. Just like… Well, you know."

Arthur froze. This had to be some sort of sick joke. Four months ago his little brother was taken from him, unable to properly heal given the nature of the wounds he had ended up receiving. A young nation, physically only the age of nineteen while only a few hundred years old. Now, he was being told of this? That there was a chance his little brother was just reborn, as if like a phoenix?

He supposed it made sense. As long as their countries were alive and thriving, so were they. They represented their countries, literally personifications of them. But this whole situation felt unreal and bizarre regardless of that fact.

"I was hoping we could have someone bring him your way. We can't really keep him here in the office and it doesn't feel quite right just having one of our men look after him. Until he's back to normal and can work again, could you, well..?"

Arthur huffed, "Of course you can. Send him my way." His little brother was alive. But, was it the same little brother he knew once before? Would he have his memories or get them back? Or was he going to be ending up with a new 'version' of America? He hadn't a clue. But he had something he didn't before.

Hope.