The Dream

Alfred sat there; almost oblivious to everything that surrounded him. Yao's and Arthur's pointless arguing as Francis and Ivan chattered away about how stupid the other two were being. For once, though, Alfred wanted no partake in the squabble and ranting. He didn't even have a desire to speak. All because of that dream he had last night, which kept on tugging at his brain. Poking and prodding at it, not giving up until the nation cracked. It was the strangest dream, but it certainly made one think. Was it a dream? Or…

Alfred looked around, his mind having escaped elsewhere. In this blank, white void. Not a voice was heard. Not a single sound. Not even when he walked was their noise. And, by the feel of the ground, it seemed that Alfred was simply walking on air. But how did he know if he was moving that? The white was all the same, he felt like he was going no where, and the fact that it was soundless just reassured Alfred that that's exactly where he was going. No where.

A snap broke him out of his remembrance. "Alfred, honestly. This is supposed to be a meeting, not somewhere you can just go to daydream. Bloody Hell, pay attention! We're talking about a serious matter!"

Normally, Alfred would have a snappy comeback to whip out at the Englishman, but he only gave a weak smile and nodded. "Sorry, Arthur. You're right. I'm gonna go get a coffee quick first. Man, I need to wake up." With a stretch, Alfred dismissed himself momentarily from the room, leaving everyone in utter shock. It was defiantly strange for him to act this way. There was no doubt about that.

But Alfred paid no mind as he walked down the hallway, relieved to hear the soft clacking of his shoes against the cream tile. Relieved to see the dark brown walls and the light bursting from the window to shine the way to the break room. Even the normally annoying sound of that one annoying crow seemed to soothe him today.

It was aimless. Pointless. Running through that white didn't seem to work. And yet, while It seemed that he couldn't move an inch forward, he could still trip and fall onto his face. Alfred, on his hands and knees, stared at the endless white from below. He tried to push his hand further down to see it he was any solid sort of ground, but when he tried his hand was stopped by some force. It wasn't hard; it just pushed him away, but not like air.

There was only the sound, now, of his nervous, shivering breath. It was like someone just cranked the AC to negative thirty in the coldest day of winter. He managed to come to a stand, hugging himself tight for warmth. It was starting to get beyond to point of strange, and more to the point of fear inducing.

This was beyond anything Alfred had faced in his life.

Alfred's eyebrows were knit in thought. Everything had had occurred in that strange dream certainly made him think. He watched blankly as the coffee machine poured him up a Styrofoam cup of black heat. Whether he was to add sugar, Alfred hadn't decided. He needed to wake up, so maybe he'd just keep it as is.

Going back to the meeting would be a big mistake. Alfred would just zone out once again. So, he pulled up a metal chair and sat. It was uncomfortable, but at least it existed.

"You have arrived," someone said. Alfred nearly panicked, looking around for a person. A voice, finally, had been heard. One other then his whimpers.

"Who are you?" Alfred asked. A typical question, one that was always asked. But one he needed to know.

"My name is unneeded," the voice decided otherwise, leaving Alfred at bay. "But yours, Alfred F. Jones, is much more important." Things must be taking a turn for the worst. How did this voice know his name? Was this going to be like the endless marathons of horror films Alfred always watched? It's not really happening, right?

"What do you want?"

"To inform you," The voice was practically monotone, but far from boring. It was just as horrific as that blank white void Alfred stood in. "Of the world. As a 'country', you should know, shouldn't you?" The voice almost grew sarcastic.

"What do you mean?" Alfred was perplexed. Still clutching to himself for warmth, Alfred started to walk in search of the voice's source. Maybe there was a blank white curtain somewhere, hiding away a deranged man that just wanted to screw with his mind.

"You don't honestly believe that you're America, do you?" The voice chuckled cruelly. "You don't REALLY believe that you're more then the average man."

Alfred stopped in dead halt. "…Not America? Of course I am!" Alfred was almost angry now. How could he NOT be America? He'd only experienced wars, carried battle scars, gained his independence. Not America?

But the voice only laughed at him. "You slay me!" More crazed laughter followed, and Alfred felt almost foolish, embarrassed, even slightly disappointed in himself. His eyes looked to his feet, for there was no object in the void he could stare at but himself. The laughter soon stopped, and the voice grew serious. "Everything you believe, Alfred Jones, is a lie. Christianity, democracy, the republic, your liberty and freedom. It doesn't really exist.

"In all truth, Alfred, you're currently in reality. That other world is the dream."

Alfred gripped at his hair, staring down at the table, the empty Styrofoam cup rolling to the floor. Was he going crazy? Maybe he just needed a vacation away from everything. But nations really couldn't have a vacation. But was he really a country at all? Alfred took off his glasses and gripped the bridge of his nose. He really needed to just relax. THAT was the dream. Wasn't it? It really ate at him. That white void…

He jolted wildly as a hand gently touched his shoulder. Alfred looked back at the man who had disturbed him, relaxing at the familiar face.

"Are you alright, Alfred?" Arthur's eyebrows were bent in worry. "You've been in here for at least an hour."

Alfred didn't want to seem like a total idiot to Arthur. He nodded and stood up, Arthur now the one looking up at him.

"I'm alright now," Alfred said with a lying, reassuring smile. Arthur could obvious see the false smile, for he reached up in irritation and tugged at Alfred's cheek.

"My ass, Alfred," Arthur said with a hand on his hip. "Honestly, I know you much better than you think! If you think flashing your debonair smile is going to pursue my otherwise, then you've got another thing coming to you."

"Okay, okay!" Alfred felt his cheek as Arthur had let go to cross his arms. Alfred knew he meant well. He knew Arthur well enough, too, to know that face had the look of worry. "Well… You may want to sit down then. It'll be a while.

And so, they two sat in those uncomfortable chairs as Alfred let go of his pride and just let loose.

"It can't be a lie!" Alfred shouted as he ran in the void.

"You can't escape what you've always known," the voice called to him. The voice seemed to grow louder as he ran.

"That's all it is! A lie! I've always known THAT!" Alfred kept his running. Away from what might be the truth. Something he never wanted to look into hard enough to see if it was fact or fiction.

"Is that so?" The voice was starting to be more recognizable.

"It is!" Alfred stared forward. But what he saw, another person, was not what he expected at all. He stopped, probably a yard away from this man, who had a debonair smirk on his lips.

"If what you say is true, then what I say is true as well." The man stepped forward at least a step or two, Alfred backing up one.

The man in front of him, though, only kept walking towards Alfred until they were only a step away from touching. Alfred looked in the blue eyes of this man, which shone with much mischief, but shielded with a set of glasses. Honey blonde hair framed the oval shape of his head, with a slightly square chin and cheek bones. He wore a brown jacket with warm, black lining. Alfred didn't need to turn him around to know that, on the back of that jacket, would be the white number fifty.

"Because, Alfred Jones, I AM you."

Alfred didn't want to believe it. It was just a mirror. But a mirror couldn't grip the front of Alfred's shirt and pin him to the void wall which pushed him away. The doppelganger's face less then an inch from his own, was wicked.

"You're pathetic, Alfred. Honestly you are. You know that this white void you've ran in, you've shivered in, the void you're pinned to, is where you belong. You're no America. You're not eve worthy to be a STATE. How can a human being be a country? It's not possible." Alfred tried to squirm out of grip, but this darker Alfred only pressed him to the void wall more, their lips practically touching as their eyes were locked. "Are you THAT fucking STUPID to ACTUALLY believe that the world you live in is real and not just some FANTASTY you wish existed? HAH!" The white in the room started to rot suddenly. Pure white became a foul green color, swirled with dark purple vines. Alfred was shoved to the ground, his opposite's foot pressed hard onto his chest. He cackled wickedly as he shoved his heel into Alfred.

"You're no country, Alfred. You're just some pathetic looking man who cowers behind the couch every time Jeepers Creepers plays on the television!" The other Alfred seemed darker now, more pissed and serious then cruelly playful. Alfred didn't even fight back. As the purple vines of the void curled around him, he felt his energy draining. "Alfred, Alfred, Alfred. Damn, am I disappointed in you. Just a child playing a game of Risk, aren't we? Why don't you just let ME do all the talking like you are now?" With a smirk, the darker one leaned down to get into Alfred's face again. "When shit gets real, little phonies like you hide away and cry, wanting their mommy or daddy."

"Shut the Hell up," Alfred finally hissed, his fists gripped tight to the point of breaking his own skin.

"That's right, grow a spine before you fade away." This Alfred cackled cruelly. "Just remember that your pretty little face ain't gonna help ya. Piss off. Go cry to your precious Arthur."

"…And that's when this blackness just… Consumed me. And I woke up." Alfred looked up at Arthur, whose face was twisted with such a strange look. He couldn't believe anything he just heard. It was quite the dream.

"…Alfred, I can assure you. You're just dreaming." With a calm smile, Arthur stood up and hugged Alfred. "I promise you."

"..." Not so sure to believe it or not, Alfred just nodded and stood up, the two walking back to the meeting, promising to discuss it later.

And a cruel cackle filled the break room as the two walked off. That Alfred, arms crossed, a devilish smirk on his face, stared at the doorway.