France stood up at the conference table, trying to get everyone's attention. "Ah-everyone, I quit being a nation."

England's head snapped in the Frenchman's direction, confused, as everyone quieted. "What? You can't just quit being a nation."

"Actually I did, yesterday," France, Francis, gave him a weak smile.

"Mi amigo!" Spain stood up, his mouth hanging open slightly. "You can't! Go get your job back! That's not fair, Francia!" Francis shook his head at the Spaniard.

England's eyebrows furrowed, thinking. "Then... Who's taking your place..?"

"I don't know, maybe my female counterpart," Francis sighed, "And since I've lost my immortality, I'm 53 years old now..."

He stared up at him, looking at his features carefully from where he sat. Francis's eyes had small wrinkles at the ends, and his hair was graying just a bit, and he had begun to get laugh lines. "…Why, though...?"

"I have work to do, something I cannot do as a nation,"

"But..." England thought, pausing. "What work could possibly make you give up being a nation?" He frowned very slightly, knowing that he'll miss the frog, though he'd never admit it.

"You'd laugh if I told you," he chuckled lightly and walked closer. He placed a card on the table in front of England and said his farewells, Italy coming over to say goodbye to his big brother and Spain pouting and giving the Frenchman a hug. England was only barely aware of this as he read the card, which had an address and phone number, with "Francis Bonnefoy" written in the top corner. England frowned down at the card as he read it, and looked back up at Francis, wondering what to say.

Francis looked at England after a moment, "see me in two months, at that address," he sighed and held out a hand. "Friends?"

The Brit's eyebrows were still knitted together and he cocked his head to the side slightly before looking at his hand carefully, taking it cautiously. "...Only because you're not France anymore, frog..." he muttered quietly, thinking that that wasn't a very good insult or excuse for slightly shaking his hand.

Francis held onto his hand a moment longer before letting go, and he smiled sadly. "It was nice knowing you; adieu, for now,"

England stared up at him for a moment, his hand slowly dropping into his lap, silent, wishing he hadn't resigned, but before Francis shut the door, he called back in a saddened tone, "I'm sorry if you don't find me in two months, I'll try to live it out,"

England bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything stupid to him, wondering what he could possibly mean by that, and he turned back to the table when the door shut behind him, glaring the card down.

The World Meeting was cancelled that day.

The blonde Brit held the card France- er, Francis had given him the day he left, and was hurrying to the address carefully, wondering what he wanted, and soon arrived, knocking on the door cautiously, and his eyes darted to where Francis had appeared when the door swung open. He looked older, somehow. His home smelled of cheese and other pleasant French smells. "Come in," he smiled softly and opened the door for England, and he came into the house, curious, looking around as he played with the cuff of his shirt.

Francis gestured to a seat, "I should mention, what feels like two months to you, is... two years for a human,"

"You're... fifty-five..?" he asked quietly, moving to take a seat politely.

Francis nodded. "Aging is hard; I wonder how the humans did this..."

The Brit sighed softly, almost inaudibly, looking down at the floor. "I heard that... humans get hurt easier..? You're, alright.. arent you?" he asked softly, not liking what being mortal was doing to Francis..

Francis shrugged, "Joint pains and all the usual things," he rubbed his shoulder.

He swallowed, glancing up at Francis, missing him so much and wishing he could rewind time to tell him not to quit. "O-oh..."

"How's the new France treating you?"

England shrugged, glancing back down. "She's... alright.." he murmured, not really having paid much attention to her.

"That's good," he murmured and clicked on a stereo system. "Want something to eat?"

He shook his head. "You don't have to get me anything, Francis.." he mumbled, not caring for food now anyway.

Francis nodded and paused, listening to the music that was playing. It was a song in French, " Si vous n'existez pas, pourquoi devrais-je?" he looked down, translating, "If you don't exist, why should I...?"

England made a small sound, like a broken sigh and a melancholy moan mixed together. "Francis.."

" Rester amoureux, remain lovers, dans la douleur de chacun, in each other's pain..." he choked on his words and looked up at England.

He was about to say something, but he just got up and moved to stand in front of him. "Why? Why did you have to quit?" he whined quietly.

France touched England's cheek gently with his aged hands, "I had something I needed to do,"

England glared up at him for a moment before looking to the side and gritting his teeth. "It's not fair.." his voice cracked slightly.

"Je sais, cher. I know,"

England huffed softly but didn't look up. "You still haven't told me what made you quit..." he mumbled, wanting to know if he could blame someone for this mess.

Francis stared off for a moment. "…For science," he mumbled.

England glanced up at him. "For science?" he repeated, not sure what he meant.

France hummed to the tune of the song, "Oui, science. Time,"

"Wh-why?" His eyes narrowed slightly, not understanding still.

France looked into England's eyes. "I'll be dead in two years," he took a shaky breath. "I've made a great deal of inventions in the past two years, well worth it."

England's throat felt constricted then, and he shook his head fiercely. "Wh.. What? N-no! Francis...! Wh-why?" he wrapped his arms around the Frenchman's waist tightly, a little childishly and buried his face into Francis' chest.

Francis held England close and stroked his back gently. "Shh, it's a little terminal problem is all,"

"What..?" he mumbled, his eyes stinging.

Francis leaned down and kissed his cheek gently, his hair slightly scrabble against Arthur's clean face, and the Brit turned his face toward Francis', not caring about the age difference that was there now, giving him a soft kiss on his lips. He felt Francis stiffen just a little in his arms, and kissed the him for a moment before pulling away a little reluctantly. "Francis..." he looked up at him, his face still so close to his own. "You cant fix it, can you...?" his emerald eyes were filled with sadness.

Francis kissed his nose gently "That's why I asked you to come over…"

His brow furrowed. "Wh-what?"

Francis held his shoulders firmly. "I need your help."

"W-with what?" He asked, wanting to help but honestly, a little hesitant.

Francis paused for a moment, "with an invention."

He cocked his head to the side softly, nodding slightly. "How can I help?"

Francis grabbed his hand and led him into the basement, before he turned the lights on; he planted a quick kiss on England's lips.

He followed him curiously, holding his hand tightly.

France smiled and leaned down to kiss him again before leading England into a large, white room, with a single box on a table. England watched quietly as the Frenchman walked over and lifted the box, he sighed and turned back to England. He watched carefully, his thick eyebrows pushed together as he waited.

"This is a time machine," Francis said slowly, showing the small dials and buttons to England.

He nodded slightly, wondering, but not doubting, if it was real. "And what do I need to do..?"

"I want you to go and try it out."

"Why...? What happens If I do?" He asked quietly, staring up at him.

"I set it a minute into the future, so it'll be instantaneous for you. Click this button," Francis smiled slightly and pointed to a small button.

He paused a moment, staring up at him before pressing the button hesitantly, but Francis was too late to stop him. "Wait! I haven't set-" Francis yelled out before everything went dark for England.

England knew he had made a mistake, and found himself in what seemed to be the corpse of the house. Everything was dusty and aged. He stared around, thinking that the time machine had to be near him if he went through time like that... Maybe he could figure out when he was and go back...

"You're sure you heard it in here?!" a loud voice called from the top of the stairs. England hid himself behind a table and the door swung open and the sound of hovering sounded followed up with soft voices. England carefully peeked from his hiding place, trying to see who was there, and hesitated when he saw America and Japan standing there, but wearing simple t-shirts and leather pants. He wondered quietly why they were dressed so oddly.

The Japan-look alike turned to look over at England's hiding place. "Alex... I think someone is here..." the other one walked closer. England swallowed and he hid himself in his hiding spot better, quietly, but trembled slightly, debating for a moment and he carefully, cautiously moved, peeking out to look at them. They looked exactly like America and Japan, besides the strange clothing. They both had riding goggles on their heads and large shoes, as well as purple gloves. "Hello," Alex smiled, when he saw movement, his blue eyes darting to meet England's, and the Brit hid again, and Alex sighed. "Come out, we won't hurt you."

England thought for a moment. They would think I was crazy if I asked when it was... What's a good excuse...? "'Ello..." He mumbled hesitantly, his eyes narrowed slightly, looking confused, after poking his head out to look at them again.

They smiled at him. "Hey, do you know where you are?" Japan held out a hand.

He got up carefully and stared at his hand carefully before taking it a short moment later. "No.." I was... Kidnapped, there's my excuse... I was knocked out...

Alex laughed. "Hey, he looks like Arthur."

Or better yet... Amnesia! "Arthur.. I am Arthur..." He mumbled, staring at them, his head cocked to the side slightly, acting even more confused now.

"It is him!" Kikkux smiled and chuckles. "Hey, Arthur, nice seeing you again,"

"..Er, you too... Wait... Where's Francis?" He asked, looking around. Maybe they knew.

"Francis? France? He died a way long time ago, about a month after you visited him," Alex shrugged. "I'm Alfred, America... But my name changed," he adds quickly.

"...Francis..." He breathed, looking down. "Wh-where are we? I can't remember anything..."

"2032," Alex said and lead Arthur out of the basement. The upstairs was just as it was before, maybe more high-tech and whiter.

Arthur's eyebrows pushed together. "B-but where?"

"Francis's house; he gave it to us in his will," Alex touched a wall gently

He swallowed, looking down. "Wh... Where is all his stuff?" He asked quietly, wrapping his arms around himself.

"In the basement, I think," Kikkux said from behind him.

He paused, looking back down at the basement. "Everything? Even what was already in the basement?"

"I think so," Alex smiled. "He left a note for you,"

"Wh-where?" He looked back up at America, biting his lip nervously.

"Uh..." he quickly ran to a room and came back, holding up a note. "Here."

England bit his lip and took the note from him, sighing softly before he read it– "Arthur, I know I didn't have long after you left, so I left you a riddle. But you need to find it."

Alex read over Arthur's shoulder "Huh..."

"What..." He sighed. "Where is all his stuff? Take me there." He demanded, looking up at America and Japan.

Kikkux frowned "Okay, but don't come out until we call you up," he opened the door and gestured Arthur in before pulling on some sort of ring and running away.

England swallowed, leaning against a wall. "Francis..." He stared the note down sadly, wondering why he just had to press the button, but paused when Japan and America ran out of the door after some yelling. Alex pulled something off the ground and looked back at Arthur. He ran back and pushed England into the basement before running out. "E-eh, what!?" England stumbled, gripping Francis' note, turning to glare at the door before he sighed and went town to the basement, knowing something was up, though he did the idiotic thing and didn't question it.

The basement rattled as some booming sound came from outside. England glared up at the door as he continued cautiously down to the basement, peeking into there hesitantly. The objects were carefully organized in stacked boxes. He glanced around before hurrying and moving to the boxes, ripping them open and looking through them. Most boxes were filled with clothing and other household items. Some with strange knick knacks and one filled to the rim with books. He continued to look in the boxes, examining Francis' things carefully, even his clothes, which hurt a little to touch them, knowing he hadn't worn any of them in a long time.

At the very bottom of the box was a small letter. It was written in French but the world "Arthur" and "Anglaterre" was written multiple times all over it

England swallowed and opened the letter quietly. It was written in French only, with words like, "je t'aime, Mais tu aimes moi?" England stared at the letters, his head cocked to the side, recognizing only a few of the words, due to Francis speaking to him in his native language. "What type of clue could this be?" He sighed, confused.

The booming sound stopped abruptly and the rattling paused.

England glanced back up at the door he came from and around the room, curious, though he looked back down, pocketing the note and looking through other things. The rest of the boxes had his homely things; tooth paste, brushes, even a ribbon or two for when he tied his hair back. He grabbed a ribbon and tied it around his wrist as he turned, looking around for other things. There was nothing but old radios and a single voice recorder with "Anglaterre" on it. His eyebrows pushed together and he played the tape. It played the same song England heard before he left, "et si tu n'éxistait pas, dit-moi pourqoui existait...?"

He sighed. This is no help if I can't understand French... He waited until the tape stopped before looking at other things. The other things were books and papers. Several in English, but most in French or Spanish. The books were mostly classics, like Shakespeare and Mark Twain. He glanced through the papers he could read and frowned, glancing up at were America and Japan were. He paused, looking back around for the door to the white room Francis took him to. Once he spotted it, he smiled a little, and went to it, pulling the door open and stepping inside.

The white room had turned a more beige color, but still smelled of invention. In the middle, where the time machine once stood, was a metallic looking ring. England moved to pick up the ring, curious and held it between his fingers gently and pursed his lips and slipped the ring onto a finger, curious. Everything felt strange. Like he was heavy, but he was light. His eyebrows drew together and he glanced around, looking for something else.

There was nothing else but a short letter. It was in English, and it was a letter of departure.

"To: The United Nations

From: the French Republic

I have resigned as a nation; on behalf of personal reasons. I have grown weary of life, unable to wake myself up in the morning. I want to pass on; I have lived for so long. I don't know if other nations feel this, this hollowness. I can't stand it, so I ask to resign."

England grimaced as he read the letter, folding it up and shoving it into the pocket with the other little notes he found and sighed, turning to find America and Japan.

They were waiting at the top of the stairs; Alex was holding out the machine. "Hold it and click the black button."

England's green eyes darted to the machine and he ran up to them, taking the machine gently, careful. "And that will do what?" he asked, trying to make sure something else as bad as this didn't happen.

Japan smiled. "You'll go right back to the minute you left."

"Are you sure?" he asked a little hesitantly, though Japan's words comforted him a bit.

"Positive. Just remember... France dies a year later, from when you arrive, make it count."

He paused a moment, thinking. "..Do you know how it works?"

Japan sighed; the people of the future were rather impatient. He shoved it into England's arms and clicked the black button. England found himself in the dark, before heended up in front of Francis who was sitting on a chair, half asleep. England arrived perhaps a few minutes after he had left. England sighed softly as he appeared back in Francis' home, his plan shattered. But he looked over and saw Francis, his eyebrows pushing together as he looked at the Frenchman, thinking about how much he had missed him in the alleged long time he had been gone, which had only been a little while in this time and thought how adorable he looked, even if he was older. He carefully moved over to him, crouching down beside him and leaning his head against the arm of the chair gently, staring up at him.

Francis woke up at the movement and looked over at England. "Had fun, chér?" he cooed and touched England's head.

He shook his head, forlornly. "Not at all..." He leaned into his touch slightly.

Francis smiled and kissed England's nose softly. He smiled, his aged appearance causing him to look wiser if anything. After a moment he stood up, painfully and with choppy movements.

England stood up after him, worried. "Francis..."

"Oui?" he answered, smiling and rubbing his neck.

He carefully moved, sniffing as he came closer and wrapped his arms around Francis gently from behind. "You're hurting... You're going to die soon... I'll miss you... If you have a time machine, then why don't you just go back and not resign? I'd gladly spend the rest of eternity with you..." He blinked away tears. "I don't want to loose you, Francis... I love you.. So much.." He sniffed again.

"It's not as easy as it seems, I can only go as far back as when the machine was first functional." He turned in England's hold on him and kissed his head. "…But I do believe you found out why I resigned. I just can't take it any longer; it was killing me in its own right... I wanted to be human..." he rubbed England's back gently and sighed. "What was it? A year left?"

He swallowed and nodded hesitantly, not looking up at him for fear that he might start crying.

"Well, I bet you have a lot of work to do right now, why not get to it? Come back in a month?" Francis smiled, knowing full well he wouldn't be there in a month.

"Francis!" The Briton looked up at him, tears welling up and almost spilling over as he shook his head. "No! N-not when... N-no..." His chin trembled slightly.

Francis continued his pained smile, looking in even more pain than before. He gently wiped the tears that had spilled, hushing him. "Unless you want to stay with me here..."

"O-of course..." He stared up him, huffing softly, trying to hold back more tears. "Y-you should s-sit down..."

Francis shook his head and held England's hand gently, "Then… Will you marry me, Arthur Kirkland?"

England nodded quickly, still looking up at him, though he smiled. "O-of course! Y-yes…"

Francis smiled and kissed England before turning and grabbing a small box on a table. He opened it up, and inside it was a simple golden ring. Francis frowned a little at it. "I'm sorry… This was the best I could afford..."

England shook his head again, swallowing. "I-It's perfect... Even if it was just a k-key ring, it'd be the best ring e-ever.." he murmured between the quiet sobs which had began to appear along with the tears running down his cheeks.

Francis smiled and kissed England gently before placing the ring on his third finger. His large hands had grown stiff, and had trouble moving but he smiled anyway. He looked at England and wiped at the tears before kissing him again. "I'm sorry, it must be painful when I kiss you," he mumbled. His lips had long since grown chapped and brittle.

Arthur shook his head yet again. "A-all that matters i-is that its y-you kissing me..." He sighed shakily, gripping Francis' shirt.

Francis frowned and kissed him again. "Don't cry chér, I don't like it..."

Arthur sniffed, trying to stop crying. "I-I don't want you t-to leave me, though... Y-you'll be g-gone, and I'll n-never see you again..." he mumbled, looking up at him.

Francis shook his head and kissed his lips gently. "At least enjoy your time left with me," he smiled painfully and closed his eyes, touching his forehead and wincing. "Oh Dieu... I feel dizzy..."

England's eyebrows pushed together and he grabbed Francis' hand gently, pulling him to the couch carefully. "Y-you need to sit, F-Francis..." His chin still trembled as he wiped his tears away with one hand.

Francis nodded weakly and places his wrist against his forehead. After a few minutes it seemed to clear up and he looked over at England, who was sitting next to him, curled up near his side and staring at him worriedly, his eyes red from his tears, though they had stopped falling. He gripped England's ringed hand and kissed it gently.

"I should have t-told you that I l-love you so long a-ago..." England frowned.

"You always looked like you hated me, and didn't want anything to do with me," Francis replied quietly, stroking England's hair.

"B-because I didn't know wh-what to do.. I've loved y-you for a very long time... And e-each war between us tore my h-heart more and more..." He swallowed, nuzzling at Francis' neck gently.

"Shh, it's okay... I've forgiven you each time, have I not?" he kissed England's head and held him close. "You know," he whispered, "I'm very sick right now and I... I would like if you stayed with me for my final days... And helped me..."

He nodded softly and bit his lip. "I'm n-not leaving you either w-way..." England's hand shook slightly as he set it on Francis' cheek gently, tears welling up again as he thought of his 'final' days. "I love you... I-I always will..."

Francis gripped the hand gently and felt himself start to choke up. "I love you too, mon Angleterre," he kissed him very softly and chuckled. "How about I make you something to eat? We can't stay seated in the basement forever."

England frowned, he thought of offering to cook for him, not wanting him to go to all the trouble, but knew that he himself sucked at cooking. "W-we don't have to leave..."

Francis shook his head, "It's cold in here," he stood up and held out a hand for England to do the same. "Come on, I'll cook something simple if you're not hungry." England frowned and took his hand, but got up himself so that he wouldn't have Francis trying to pull him up, nodding. Francis continued to smile at him, and England couldn't help smiling back. He was just happy to be with him. So happy to be loved.

I had a dream, okay? I'm sorry. Don't cull me or anything (Points for you if you got that reference). I love Francis to death, and I just… CANT EVEN. Not anymore. :T welp, review, please?