Go Your Own Way.
Conviction.

Warnings:
Foul language, some historical content and sensitive material. So…you know have fun and have some common sense. ^^

Author's Note:
There is Chris who is the Australia that appears in the Hetalia anime but I'm also using Jett (basically 2p Australia) as Convict Australia. They are both Australia.

…
…Enjoy yourself.
…

Where have I seen this before…?

Heavy rain beat down on those already beaten and broken that occupied this scene. Mud clung stubbornly to clothes and flesh alike, blood mingling with the steady flow of salty tears, covered only by the unforgiving down pour of rainwater.

In the gloom of the overcast evening, originally vivid colours appeared muted and lacklustre, the very world bleeding out into a monotone of greys and browns. Once bright green eyes faded to nothing more than a memory of what they once were as the owner stared down upon its brother nation.
Again on his knees, in the dirt and the rain.

Where has this scene fit in before…?

"Why…" Broken words came from the fallen nation's mouth. Quietly at first, barely audible above the sound of rain pounding against the earth below and yet somehow the other had still heard him, still heard that quit cry of misery and ruin. Yet those dulled eyes watched on without change, watched as blood turned the water pink on its way down the nations crying face.
It hurt to look at, it made the nation's chest tight to see it but those faded hues couldn't turn away, this would be the end of all those years of brewing hatred and grieving. Just a little longer and it'd finally end.

"Damn it! Why? Tell me, why do you never listen to anything you're told?" There was a pause, shoulders heaved heavily under the pressure of agony and then there was a scream.

"Why can you never do as you're told!?" That strained shout was thick with the tears he had no doubt been harbouring long before this began. But as to where this truly started the standing male could no longer be sure. Was it the day he was cast aside or perhaps the day the fallen nation was cast aside in turn? The thought made those faded eyes spark just slightly and turn skywards towards the thick blanket of black clouds that continued to pour icy water down on them from above.
The day that the broken nation was first abandoned, not by him but by another young nation after his freedom – yes, the offending nation knew just why this setting was so eerily familiar.

Ah, I remember now….
It's from that time when that Yankee…

The nation's hands clenched down unforgivingly on his weapon when the realisation dawned on him. This scene belonged not here but back during another time so long ago. The only other time he'd ever seen the great nation before him on his knees in such agonising pain and now it was on repeat. That one moment he'd never intended to see again and here it was playing out right in front of him – all this doing.

Gradually his gaze did drop back down towards the dirt, was this the same view that the Yankee bastard had when he tore a hole in their way of life? Did he take joy in seeing it or did that man perhaps feel the same heart ripping sensation that he now felt?

For just a second there was hesitation as the drenched nation's free hand pressed to his chest, willing away that heartache. The weapon now weighed heavier in the hand of the standing nation. It proved to be a brief and insignificant hesitation and was gone as quickly as it came. An order was shouted from a short distance behind the two, immediately wiping away that momentary pause and not a second later the deadly weapon was brought up high into the air above the fallen nations head, stopped a second time in its decent by the other's voice crying out once more.

Shaking his head England cried out with all of the suffering he'd been forced to endure. All of the loss he was being forced to feel again and all of the pain that was still to come.
"Answer me…! Australia!"

Ahh.
Just how had things gotten to this point…?

…

…

Australia woke with a start.

That morning the sun burnt country was awoken with a gasp of alarm and a pounding heart, not because he could feel the spider crawling ever so leisurely along his leg for the past half an hour or because of the possum that had been screeching its displeasure at a feral dog that had been bothering it.

No. Australia had jumped awake, seemingly out of nowhere, that morning.
Leaping up straight in bed with one hand pressed to his forehead and the other gripping the bed sheets tightly as the sound of his heart pounded in his ears. His chest was heaving and Australia's heart seemed to be trying to make an escape attempt with how hard it was hammering against his ribs.

The island nation did not remember exactly what had awoken him with such a horrendous pain and fear, nor did he care to try.
The truth was that this wasn't an unusual occurrence for him – it was pretty standard. He already knew he'd woken from a nightmare of some sort or another. Most likely he'd been reliving old memories he couldn't seem to smother.
When Australia closed his emerald hues he knew he'd begin to see it again. The past transformed into nightmarish images by his own guilty conscience, come to haunt his rest every night. Under his eyes black bags were slowing forming from continued lengths of time without a good nights sleep. No matter how tired he might be, the young nation couldn't afford to nap and he couldn't bring himself to sleep – knowing he'd only dream again.

Gradually his eyes slipped over towards the window. Dust filled the room and floated lazily through the morning rays of light that the open window provided, reminding Australia of just how filthy his room was.
If he cared then perhaps the pile of clothes thrown haphazardly into a corner of the room would be washed or maybe the slowly growing nest of spiders on the ceiling would be shooed out. They were on their third generation of babies already, soon there'd be nothing left of the roof besides the black cluster of spider bodies.

Outside the window the now fully awoken Australian could see the thick bush land and even sighted a few birds that took their dear sweet time screaming good morning to the rest of his country, agitating him in the early morning.
While he gazed out the window idly there was a shifting in the sheets besides him. For a second the Australian had thought maybe a snake had snuck into his bed during the night but when a pair of warm arms wrapped lazily around his shoulders he realised it was a worse kind of pest.

"Bro?" Chris's sleepy voice murmured and when Jett glanced back over at the other all he saw was a mess of brown hair and sleepy eyes. Yet no matter how messy his brother's hair did get, two strands always stood higher than the rest.
"…Mate, you look like crap. Bad dream?" Jett sighed heavily as his brother hung off of him, perhaps it was meant to be some kind of affection?

"What are you doing in my bed again Chris? Weren't you going to visit the American, when did you get back?" Jett did not remember his brother coming home the night before so he must have slipped in some time after two in the morning.

"Alfred and I got into an argument…." Chris mumbled while trying to remove the heavy sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Drop bears?" Jett asked dryly.

"Drop bears." Chris confirmed with a soft snort.

Those two had been arguing about the existence of drop bears for years now, switching sporadically between which one would claim it to be real and which would deny it.
America must have been driving himself mad swapping between what was true and what was simply a lie that they'd told to scare him in the war time. He always was such a spineless little scaredy cat that America.
Australia did enjoy toying with the American soldiers and counting salt rings had been a very popular pass time back in the day.

"Well whatever, could you get off me now? It's too early in the morning to punch you." All Jett got for his words was silence.

"Chris?" Jett tried to get a response out of his brother and was given more muteness for his efforts.

"Christian?" He tried again, getting more silence for his efforts.

"Mate." If Jett had a dollar….

"Mate, I'm friggin' serious. If you think you can just…-" Jett's angry words were cut short when he looked back at his brother. The brown haired nation had fallen asleep with his arms still looped around his big brother. Jett reached for the two strands of brown hair that stuck up straight, planning on tugging them and waking Chris cruelly but his hand flinched, coming to a stop before it could do any damage.

When he looked at Chris's sleeping face there was a sharp twisting feeling in his chest. Jett knew this was because the nightmare he had last night included the wild nation, as they so often did. Chris was, for all intents and purposes, Australia now.

Jett's hand lowered down by his side and with a sigh he allowed Christian to doze on his shoulder. The truth was Jett wasn't really the nation anymore. It belonged more and more to Chris every day but he did not feel any ill will towards his little brother, any ill feelings he may have harboured were smothered by past crimes against the younger nation.
Even if Chris didn't always remember those days, Jett could not forget them.
Jett never truly forgot anything.

Closing his eyes Jett could still see it, still see the agony he'd inflicted on Chris back in those days. The tears he'd caused him to shed, the blood he'd drawn himself, the masses that had died in Chris's care. All by Jett's doing.

It hadn't been his fault, really it hadn't. He was just following orders. Yes that's right, just following orders – that's all. Besides Christian was a savag-

Jett jerked his head back and shook it, his mind had been wandering into dangerous waters. He didn't see Chris that way anymore, he was his precious little brother. There was no room for that kind of thinking, no room for that English colony crap.
English colony….
Arthur….

Jett felt something rough jabbing away at his cheek, drawing him away from his thoughts. Why could he not have a single morning where he wasn't assaulted with pokes and sudden bear hugs? At the very least the spiders that would crawl over his face when he slept had the good sense to bug off when he swatted at them, Chris didn't seem to get that message.

"Your face looks serious." Chris had woken up again and entertained his sleepy mind with poking away at Jett's face. His finger continued to poke and jab until it got close to his big brother's nose. The scar there was off limits and even the carefree Australian didn't dare cross that line.

"Get off me already!" Jett snapped back at him. "Don't you have jobs to do?"

"Hm?" Chris thought about it for a moment before slumping back onto Jett. "Ah…yeah. So what?"

"Then get up and do them!" Chris didn't look terribly interested in doing his chores; even as a nation he completely flunked his duties in favour of sitting back and enjoying the sun shine and sand between his toes.

"Can't you do them for me bro? You're the oldest." Chris asked lazily before yet another thought entered his head, completely removing any ideas on doing his chores.
"Oh hey! How would you feel about some cane toad hunting? They're getting even worse as of late. We could go up north, I'll get the clubs and you could use the poison spray. It'll be great! Or if you don't want to do that how about we hit the surf? I heard that the blue bottles moved off shore this morning."

"Chris!" Jett shouted his little brother's name, the geckos on the walls scurrying off in fright at the sound of the angry nation, hell even the koala woke up and glared at the two from his perch. Not for the first time Jett wondered if it intended to kill them both one day. Chris on the other hand only laughed and rubbed the back of his head, not at all put off by his brother's anger.

"Easy there mate. Too early in the morning for that, don't you think?" Well that they did agree on. It was eleven o'clock and Jett didn't fancy being riled up so early.

"What chores do you have today?" Jett finally asked, seeing no other way to get anything done without his help. Chris wouldn't do it, he'd instead be distracted by some kind of shiny object or animal and plant life, so Jett would have to watch over him for today. Just like most other days.

"Ah…leme see." Chris murmured, scratching at the band-aid over his nose thoughtfully. "Ah! That's right, something about our new boss. Apparently they aren't too popular." Jett gave a heavy hearted sigh. There was nothing new about that, their last few bosses or so had been disasters in one way or another. It was a bit troubling when they were juggling them around like that.

"What else?" Chris frowned as he was forced to remember the boring stuff he's sooner push aside for some good fun.

"Uh…our farmers are complaining again. There's not enough water." Again no surprise. Their climate had always been hot and somewhat unforgivable at times, but lately the rainfall had been dwindling to dangerously low levels. Drought was far too common and coming about too often for the farmers to recover properly.
"Hey, I know what we should do." Jett raised his bushy eye brow towards Chris who gave his usual cheerful grin. This idea was going to be awful he just knew it.

"Let's take some of Iggy's!" Jett flinched but Chris went on regardless. "He's always covered in rain ain't he? Let's snatch some of his!" Chris yelped in pain as Jett's fist came down on his head.

"You bloody moron! It doesn't work that way." It really was too early in the morning for this nonsense…

…

…

"Get up." Jett ordered from where he stood in front of the mirror. His clothes were still a mess but less so than Chris's. His brown digger's uniform scattered around the floor thoughtlessly, at least Jett had kept his in the pile in the corner. Some consideration wouldn't go amiss.
From the bed Jett heard Chris groaning and rolling about in the blankets. It was beginning to tick on over towards twelve and no doubt they'd be getting a call from their boss any minute now about slaking and some desperate plea for help.

"I'm serious, get the hell up." Watching Chris roll over again in bed through the mirror Jett just caught a glimpse of some of the scars on his shirtless brother's body. They were familiar marks but he doubted anyone else would have seen them; they were faded almost to the point that Jett thought perhaps he only saw them through his remorseful filter.

Gradually Jett's eyes travelled to his own face to look at the scar running across his nose. Sure enough it was still there and still hideous.
On a fundamental level Jett looked strikingly like his little brother. Their faces were the same shape, and they shared similar traits throughout their entire lives. However Jett did have some core differences to Christian. His hair was a lighter shade of filthy blonde while Chris's hair was a rich brown colour. Jett was pale and a bit lanky, Chris was tanned and well built. Jett's hair was long and kept back in a low pony tail, Chris's hair was short and messy.

Jett went to great lengths to keep his two strands from sticking up into the air like Chris's tended to. He didn't want to have anything that reminded him of that ruddy American pig. So while he stared at himself in the mirror he raked at his hair until they were brought down into his hair, hiding them from the world.

Their clothes were only separated by a darker shade, they both wore the digger's uniform with their green and red ties but while Chris wore shorts, Jett wore longer pants with boots to have them tucked in. They were not trying to mirror one another after all, they simply both felt a need to wear the uniforms that meant so much to them. As Jett's hand ran across his clothes he remembered a time when he had worn different attire. It was the uniform he wore in all of his nightmares and he'd forever keep it locked away out of sight in the cupboard, where it belonged.

He and Christian shared a face, right down to the mark across their noses. Only for Chris it was that small band-aid that ran over his skin and some considered to actually be cute, for Jett it was that damn scar.
Often Chris had offered to give him a band-aid but he always denied him furiously. When he saw himself in the mirror and when others looked at him he wanted that scar to remind the world of who he was, how he'd gotten it and come to be where he was. It was proof of who he had been and who he was now and that…he had not yet faded away.

It was always baffling to Jett – how similar yet completely different he and Chris were. It was his own doing of course. If he went out into the sun more or climbed as many trees and Chris he'd probably be tanned and larger too – but Jett absolutely didn't want to look like that. In fact the more Jett looked at himself, the less he saw the similarities between them – Jett looked a bit more like another brother of theirs and that thought just killed him inside.

"I know you think you're godly handsome, but dontcha think you've been gawking at yourself just a tiny bit too long there?" Chris asked from where he'd sat up on the bed, only to receive a bunch of his rumpled clothes thrown at his face.

"Just get dressed." Storming from the room Jett was followed by Chris's good natured laughter. Jett was still steaming as he entered the kitchen and it didn't help when he had to all but swim through the sea of beer bottles to get to the fridge.
During his journey through the kitchen Jett noticed off in the corner his thongs were sticking out from under a few beer bottles and in the same glance he saw a scorpion scuttling over the floor. Perhaps having shoes on would be a good idea, he didn't need to add a bug sting to his growing list of headache material.
When he opened it there was nothing in there but a few uncooked sausages and what Jett could only assume was once some kind of left overs.

"Sausage sangers again I guess." Smiling slightly Jett opted to trust the sausages over the mystery left overs. When he tried to start the stove up he found the damn thing was broken, he would have liked to be surprised but frankly he just wasn't. So instead he threw them onto the small portable BBQ that he'd gotten Chris for Christmas some years back. It was gathering rust and obviously hadn't been cleaned once in the past year but that didn't bother Jett.

Carelessly scrapping off the larger gatherings of burnt fat and dust he started it up and threw on the sausages. While they began to sizzle and pop Jett reached over to the mini fridge, planning to grab himself a beer, it might have been morning but he didn't have any other plans for the day other than to make sure that Chris did his job and he always did do that better when numbed to the frustration his brother caused him.

His hand was stopped quite suddenly however when he saw a small sticky note clinging to the door. Ripping it off Jett frowned as he recognised the writing, it was from Zea. That writing couldn't have belonged to anybody else and it did make Jett frown when he thought about Chris's scrawled pencil scratchings. He could take a tip or two from Zea, in more than just hand writing.

"Why didn't he just call?" Jett sighed thinking about their brother Toby as he snatched up a beer with his free hand. He'd probably left the note there after dropping Chris back off once he got kicked out of America's place the night before.
New Zealand was their closest neighbour in both physical distance and friendship. Why it had often been thought that New Zealand should just join with them or already had.

It had caused their brother some grief explaining that he was not part of them to the youngsters in Australia who just assumed that they were one with New Zealand and some adults as well. The Australian brothers had found it endlessly amusing and as a result Zea hadn't spoken to either of them for a while.

Reading the note while taking a swig of the beer Australia expected something bland and uninteresting as all the messages usually were, politics and all that never being the Australian brothers strong point…but.

"Oh bloody hell!" Spitting out his beer Jett grabbed hold of the note with both hands, almost tearing it with the force he applied.

"Oi Bro?" Chris came wandering down stairs having heard the shouting. Looking at his brother Chris couldn't help but frown in that sleepy way of his. Jett was madly rushing around cooking and kicking bottles out of his way and out of sight. For a few seconds Chris stood motionless on the bottom step, just watching his brother's frenzy of movement as it slowly dawned on him, Jett only acted with way for a few reasons after all.

"Hmm..." Chris's frown deepened and finally he said. "We have a world meeting don't we…?"

"You bloody well do! You god damned moron, why didn't you tell me?" Jett couldn't be Chris; he couldn't always be laid back without a care in the world. He had a temper and it was certainly being tested this morning.

"I guess I forgot." Chris smiled with a shrug, getting a sharp glare from his older brother. In the next second a sausage sanger was jammed into his mouth, resulting in some muffled, incoherent words coming from around the greasy breakfast.

"Shut up and eat it. Zea is going to be here any minute to pick you up. I swear…" His words broke off into angry growls and grumbles, unaware of his brother's following gaze as he worked fervently. It wasn't until Chris put his hand on Jett's head that he paused in his ranting for a just a second. His brother smiled around the sanger while petting Jett.

"Donmh worry bout ehn, mate!" Jett translated that fairly quickly in his head. 'Don't worry 'bout it, mate.' Jett envied his little brother's easy going attitude and wondered why he hadn't been gifted with it; they were both Australia after all. Kind of…

Chris's hand remained on his head, ruffling his hair slightly, causing the two strands of blonde hair to flick up and stand straight. But still neither of them moved, Chris seemed to realise he'd made a mistake when he looked at his brother's distant eyes. Jett stared down towards the ground, watching as a lizard scuttled over his bare foot but all he could see was the polished floors from a home he'd once belonged in.

"Bro…" Chris opened his mouth to say something but just then there was a rapid rapping at the door. Jett snapped out of it, knocking away his brother's hand and hastily clawing the two freed strands back down.
"I got it." Chris went to answer the door while Jett worked on hiding his hair.

"G'day Zea!" Chris was greeting their brother with the usual happy gush of words, Jett worked on tuning them out while eating his own breakfast. Not long after that Chris's spiel came to an end and Jett walked into the hallway, planning on seeing his two brothers off. It was oddly quiet when he got the hallway, even Chris's cheerful words had stopped.

"Mornin' Zea." Jett greeted New Zealand with a single wave of his hand before turning to Chris. "Idiot, go and get your shirt on. You got to go already." Realising he still wasn't even out of his sleep ware Chris smiled and bounded on upstairs leaving Zea and Jett to themselves.

"You could have called. " Jett said with an agitated sigh.

"I tried but you two sleep so deeply." Zea was a tiny little nation. He appeared almost as a girl at times and Jett had seen the bloody frog trying for a taste too many times. Zea had a sweet, somewhat dazed, look about him most of the time and with features so soft and hair so lovely it was easy to see why he was mistaken for a female.

His fair brother was still holding onto his pet Sheep and Jett was glad that the evil Koala they had was not present, he didn't like the thought of what might happen if those two were left alone together. Really that koala was Satan in disguise he was sure and Australia sure was hot enough to house Satan comfortably.

"Ah, sorry 'bout that." Jett apologised flippantly while rubbing at the back of his neck. Zea tugged at his black cuffs, clearly picky about how he looked at the world gathering. It made the Australia almost self-conscious when looking at New Zealand. His uniform was a beautiful shade of red and their uniform was all browns. If Australia had not been so fond of their clothes and comfort they would have shown off too, but Zea looked a bit uncomfortable at times, while Jett and Chris were never put in discomfort by their uniform.

"So I left the note the one place I knew you'd go." The Australian felt somewhat embarrassed knowing he'd put the note on their supply of alcohol, cruel but fair and accurate.

"Ah….right." Jett tried not to get upset about it and instead changed the topic. "I'll take care of the work here so there's no need to rush him back home either. He'd only distract me. Take him out drinking or something."

Zea's face changed to an expression of apprehension, almost as if he had something to say in response that he didn't want to voice just yet. Before Jett could ask about it Zea looked up towards the top of the stairs and sure enough Christian was ready, his uniform on and just as wrinkled as Jett had expected. The Satan koala clinging to his back as though it were a permanent addition to his uniform and the broad brimmed hat dangling from a string around his neck. The only thing out of the ordinary was the lack of his goofy, big ass grin. He'd heard them talking and spoke for Zea, mostly.

"Actually mate…" Australia began uncertainly while descending down the stairs. He was scratching at his band-aid again, that action alone letting Jett know he was not going to be pleased to hear this.
"We'll, Zea help me out with this…" Zea stood back and gave a single solitary shake of his head; he wasn't bailing Chris out this time.

Sighing Chris straightened up once off the stairs and standing in front of his brother and said in a direct manner.
"They want us all at the world meeting today, bro. That's you too." Immediately Jett's mood and face darkened to dangerous levels. Zea took another step back and Christian raised his hands in defence, laughing nervously.

"No. No friggin' way! I'm not going to that place. Forget it." Jett growled, his hand going down towards his machete, he hadn't even registered the motion until his brother's hands came up in a defensive flinch towards his head. Chris has tasted the blow of the blade in the past and even if he didn't consciously know it, his body certainly remembered it.

Jett stopped dead, realising he'd been moving as if he might hurt his brother. He wasn't going to, no he was just moving out of habit that was all! Just habit, nothing else, nothing else…

"Bro." Chris frowned walking towards Jett. "He..- They've requested we both go." Jett didn't miss the unintentional 'he', the slip only serving to fuel his resistance.

"Why should I go? Why should I give a damn if they want everyone there? It's not like Prussia will be there so why should I go?" Jett hadn't meant to say it but they were all thinking it. Jett was not far from what Prussia was, a lost nation that continued to hang around for no real good reason. How he and Prussia continued to exist while other nations faded away no one was quite sure.

"Jett…!" Christian was mortified but thankfully Zea's soft voice cut across them before Chris could get too worked up over his brother.

"Prussia will be there as well. Everyone is going… Please, we're already late. You're always late…" Jett didn't look like he was going to budge an inch but Zea, in his shrewd little way said. "I suppose I'll lose the bet to America. He bet you wouldn't go…"

"That Yankee fuck did what?" Jett demanded, pride and fury blinding him to his original fears and reasons for not going. "Oh hell no! Chris!" Christian jumped at his name and then smiled as Jett marched himself right out of the house, non-verbally demanding they follow.

"Ay mate. I got ya." With that the three of them left Australia's house. Chris following Jett as he stomped on out, pausing next to Zea to give him a somewhat rough pat on the back. The air left Zea and he coughed violently to try and breathe once again but he knew it was Australia's way of praising his good thinking.

Once he could breathe and speak properly Zea looked up after the retreating form of Jett and frowned to Chris. "Do you think that we should really allow this?" Christian smiled but there was a kind of strain to the usually so careless expression that worried Zea.

"He can't avoid big brother forever. I'm sure he can't hate him forever either. It's been a long time since their falling out." The two watched Jett kicking the crap out of their transport, it didn't seem like anything they owned worked properly.
"Yeah…he can't be angry forever right…?"

"Yeah." Zea gave a single nod of his head before hearing Jett's furious angry cursing and pounding foot against their transport. If anyone could stay angry forever…

The two let out a sigh in unison.
Forever wasn't such a long time for countries.

…

…

The gathering was held at England's place.
No one told him that.

Jett was all but steaming from the ears and fuming from the mouth as he stood in the hallway to the meeting room. It had been furnished nicely for the world meeting sure but the place still reminded him of the old days and despite himself Jett recognised almost everything about it.
With his arms crossed and one foot wildly tapping away at the ground he came off as terribly intimidating, even Zea and Chris were almost avoiding getting to close for fear his anger would be turned on them.

And they bloody well better be scared.
They both knew exactly where this meeting was being held and didn't tell him anything until they were at the damned door. Jett would have turned tail and run if his pride hadn't been so cripplingly great. So he'd marched himself in there with the dark aura hanging off of him, causing anyone he passed to cringe away.
He didn't care, they should be scared of him when he was this close to breaking holes in the expensive walls.

"Uh…hey mate?" Chris tried to speak to his brother, smiling slightly though he could tell he was playing with fire. It wouldn't be that bad right? How bad could Jett be when compared to grabbing up a croc? Jett turned his burning gaze onto Chris causing the younger nation to recoil with a shaky laugh. He'd take the croc over this any day!

"What?" Jett snapped, seething through his clenched teeth.

"W-Well it's just that…my hand." Jett glanced down, not realising he'd been clutching Chris so tightly, the poor hand looked as though it was broken. Jett's grip eased up, not wanting to deal with a crying Australia any time soon but he didn't let go. Chris noticed this action and looking up at his brother's marching form, he couldn't help but give a small smile.

So Jett really was nervous? Nervous enough to hold onto his hand so desperately? With that in mind Chris held his brother's hand back as they walked towards the meeting room. What were brothers for if not picking up their drunken brother at three in the morning, giving them a good taunting and letting the other hide their fear to protect pride?
Well….maybe for picking up some beer too.

"Oh, you guys are here!" Chris smiled as they were greeted by the sound of a kid's voice.

"Hmpf, you're late again." Added on a young girl's voice.
Wy and Sealand were too young for the world meetings but even they'd been brought in today, maybe seeing that would calm Jett.

Wendy and Peter were still children but they both seemed to be working toward acceptance just like any other nation and watching their little sister and brother trying so hard to grow up always did lift their spirits. They were a big family after all, it was important to help one another out.

"Where's Hutt?" Jett asked while the three went about their hellos. Hutt or Hutt River was also part of their family, he was a micronation sure but he's been staying close to Peter and Wendy, babysitting though they dared not call it that in front of the two kids.

Both Hutt and Wendy were micro-nations within Australia itself so it was only natural that they all stayed close to one another, feeling somewhat split off from the rest of the world with the massive distance between them and everyone else. Australia was always somewhat…well…isolated. Making them almost forgotten to the rest of the world despite their massive size.

"I don't want Hutt here! We can look after ourselves, we're not kids." Wendy complained angrily

"Easy Wendy." Chris smiled kneeling down to pat the young girl and boy on the head. "You two younin's need to go and find that silly old Hutt, he's gone and gotten lost hasn't he?" Jett had to admit that Chris was good at getting the right response out of kids. "You two go find him and look after things out here okay?"

"Got it!" Peter saluted Australia and grinning Chris saluted back. Giving them a job and a feeling of responsibility would hopefully quell any ill feelings about not being let into the meeting.

While Jett made a point of not joining in the childish antics and greetings he did ruffled both the kids hair on the way in, even someone like him could show his affection sometimes, even if it was rough.
Zea pushed the doors open and thankfully they were not the centre of attention for coming in late because as per usual things were absolute chaos.

Shouting and general ridiculousness went on in every corner of the room. It was worse than usual, most often the greater powers would argue with one another but it would only be them and then in larger meetings there was more chaos but with their attempts to include the entire world in one room…it was a disaster.

Jett's judgingly cruel eyes slowly rolled over to Chris who just laughed nervously with a shrug of his shoulders, he couldn't help it if they were all like children when put together. The meeting room was too loud for anyone to get a good word in, countries all around having broken up into groups of friends and enemies. Attacking one another and arguing over old grievances.
Countries like Greece were too busy sleeping or keeping their own peace like Japan were also scattered around but they were in the minority.

"Let's just go sit down." Jett muttered finally, standing at the door gapping at the chaos wouldn't get them anywhere. Among the sea of familiar faces it was fairly easy for them to spot the friendly ones. Allies and friends alike were mixed in with less than favourable countries, Jett made a point of steering his brothers away from Turkey.
Chris would have protested if he knew, he and Turkey had a friendly relationship now but Jett still felt bitter over past clashes and they didn't mourn their losses every year just for him to get chummy with that country. It didn't truly matter though because that country was far too busy shouting at the napping Greece.

In the mix of faces both friend and otherwise it was even easier to spot family. Oh yes, how very embarrassingly easy it was. All one had to do was look for the bushy eye brows and they'd no doubt find themselves a Kirkland. As a result the three brothers easily found their respective family.

With Wendy and Peter left outside that only left a few of them. At a glance Jett caught sight of Hong Kong standing off on his own, minding his own business and the rest of the meeting went to hell. The dark haired male had never exactly been the most talkative person in the world, that suited Jett just fine and even though he had been taken back from the British Empire not too long ago he still had those eye brows and was considered family in a small sense.

Not too far off from him there was Cameroon and India, at least keeping out of most of the antics in the messy meeting room. That accounted for a majority of their immediate family there was only one face that took Jett a while to spot.
Chris noticed it too, they always played spot the family when together and the two of them were far too caught up in it to notice that Toby had vanished from their side, no doubt finding his seat while they hung around.

"Oh hey! Over there." Chris pointed and sure enough they'd found the last of their family…well maybe family wasn't the right word in this case, unwilling pet might be a better way of putting it. Seychelles was currently being assaulted by a pervert.

"Crying out loud – it's that friggin pervert!" Jett cursed seeing Francis once again making his advances on the female, it was exactly like his advances on Canada and just as creepy. Although they'd never guess that France had no real ill intentions – he was simply playing. Jett was completely prepared to get his hands dirty beating the smutty Frenchman's face in but his body locked up seeing just who had beat him to the punch.

Standing between France and Seychelles was their big brother himself, England.
It was a familiar sight. France and England standing off, each grabbing hold of the others throat and clothes in an attempt to throttle one another. It made Chris laugh seeing that nothing did change between big brother and France. His laughter stopped when he realised that his brother was still by his side.

Chris noticed the tenseness in his brother's form. He'd known that his brother would react this way at the sight of the Englishman but…at the same time he'd been optimistic that this time it would be okay. But as his green hues lingered on his brother's form he noticed the shaking in his clenched hands and the wideness of his own green eyes, he'd left Chris again and gone back to that place that he could never go.

It scared Chris.
What was it that woke Jett up in the dead of night screaming and on the verge of tears or had him freeze dead at certain times and stare blankly into the air in front of him. And most unsettling, what was it that caused Chris to be so utterly terrified of his own brother at times?
If he asked, Jett would turn him away and deny it all, he'd tried so many times to pry answers from him but all he knew came from England and their big brother was also fairly tight lipped on the matter.

"It's taken care of, let's just sit down." Jett recovered from whatever dark place his mind went to when he left Chris behind, but even as they did turn to find their seats there was another disturbance.

"In coming potato bastard!" The shout came from the other side of the room and it was the only warning the two got. Thankfully they were Australia and the two were very well accustomed to dodging rough cricket balls and almost anything else that could be tossed to be frank.

Ducking out of the way as what looked like a tomato went flying past Jett cursed furiously as yet another one came shooting past. After the second yet another two followed, causing the brothers some distress to keep from being hit.
Jett didn't remember anyone that would be throwing tomatoes at them but when he looked towards where the projectiles had landed it immediately cleared up his confusion.

Standing on the other side of Chris and himself, arms crossed and shoulders shaking with barely controlled fury was Germany. The blonde's uniform now stained with blood like splatters, though the darkness of the clothes did make it harder to see. Apparently the tomatoes had been meant for him and had found their mark. Australia knew Germany to be rather quick on his feet but with the two of them as a cover he probably didn't realise he was the target until he was hit.

By his brother's side Prussia was laughing in his usual string of 'Keseseses~', the sound never failing to agitate Jett. Chris on the other hand found the whole ordeal about as funny as the albino bastard. Laughing that loud and good natured laugh Chris clung onto his big brother's shoulder as though the force of his amusement might bring him to the ground if he were to stop holding on.
Jett felt about as unamused as one could get, or at least that was what he acted like and only if paying close attention could anyone notice the slight fighting to keep a smile from his stony face. Even though he hid it well both the Australian brothers had a similar sense of humour.

"Take that you potato faced bastard!" The source of the flying fruit spoke up finally. Romano stood with his hand pointing out at Germany, shouting profanities at him while savouring his victory. By his side Italy clung onto his arm, trying desperately to keep his big brother from causing more trouble.

"B-Big brother…" Italy whined, mortified by his brother's attitude. "You can't do that to Germany…" Pleading with his brother seemed to get him nowhere but still he clung on tight.

"Let go of me! Get off of me you damn…!" Romano was struggling against his little brother, the two of them seeming almost the same I strength as their little brotherly war continued. Jett, who had not been around many of these countries in something like a few hundred years, was taken aback by the two.
He'd expected to see the frog and Brit fight, he'd known that America would be shouting loudly but he'd never seen the two Italian brothers together before. Chris was the one that attended all the meetings not him.

"Are they always this way?" Jett asked once Chris had managed to bring his hysteria under control. Still draped over his big brother's shoulder with an easy going smile while he enjoyed the show before him, even if he'd been the one hit with those tomatoes he still would have been smiling.
Some found Chris's laid back nature annoying….Jett could be counted among them.

"Yeah, they're really always like this." Chris confirmed while Romano fought to break away from his little brother. "Those Italian brothers couldn't be more different even though they look so similar." Chris said it casually but Jett could hear the double meaning behind those casually tossed out words, his fingers coming up to scratch at his scar mindlessly.

"Speaking of opposites…" Both pairs of green hues turned towards the victim of the fruit assault. "Those two don't even have their looks in common, ay?"

The two Germans stood by themselves, one having to scrape the red from his uniform with angry growls and the other was still laughing shamelessly while patting his little brother's shoulder in a jeering manner.

"Ah West. If you were as awesome as the awesome me you wouldn't have been hit! Keseses~" Jett stared at the smaller of the two nations, Prussia.
The longer he stared the more confused he became, Prussia had long since been dissolved as a true nation, in fact it was a highly debated topic among the current nations as to where Prussia's place was now days.
For a while it seemed that he might vanish like his own father before him and the mighty Roman Empire. Yet here he stood, in all is aggravating glory, gloating at his younger brother who was very much still a strong nation.

Red eyes caught the staring green ones, just for a brief moment the two lost nations looked at one another and Jett did not shy away. He was not ashamed of his staring and instead the two held the look for what felt like an eternity before Prussia's mouth twisted up in a smile that appeared, at least to Jett, a little bit mournful. The expression was gone as soon as it arrived however and the albino returned to his chittering at his brother.

Jett continued to wonder why it was that Prussia had survived and he began to wonder if perhaps he'd ask one day. Just out of interest of course! Jett wasn't afraid of vanishing…yeah, there was no way he'd vanish. To take a page from Prussia's book, he was simply too awesome to fade out! Just thinking that made him feel silly, but perhaps if he convinced himself of that, he really wouldn't have anything to fear.

"Yo, what happened?" Jett's mood immediately darkened hearing that obnoxious voice. Sure enough the American had appeared. "Wow, dude! You look all bloody, Haha!" America's voice was only louder when he laughed. "You see that? So cool!" America turned to Chris and the two grinned at one another, whatever fight they had the night before being forgotten as they high-fived.

"Oh?" Alfred looked past Chris to Jett, not bothering to hide his surprise at seeing the stony nation. "No way! He actually showed." Alfred laughed pointing at Jett without a shred of embarrassment and Jett felt eyes falling on him. The American's voice was too damn loud and he was drawing attention that Jett didn't want.

Alfred's happy laughter was cut short at the sound of knuckles being cracked. Looking up he saw the Aussie nation standing over him, eyes shining with malice as a dark aura seemed to seep from his very being. He looked too much like Russia for America's comfort.

"Heard you been making bets there Mate." The colour bleed from Alfred's face as he backed up shaking his hands and head quickly.

"What me? No way! Not a chance, aha…ahaha! Come on dude…quit looking at me like that. H-Hey help me out here Chris!" Chris merely shrugged his shoulders, Alfred had made the bet it had nothing to do with him. Chris sat back in his seat next to Toby and watched as the two nations went at it. In fact as time passed the audience for their rough housing only grew in its numbers.

"Ayiiii!"

Thwak.

Alfred would be lucky if he got out of this without Florida getting flogged.

…
…

"Say uncle you bloody yankee!" Jett demanded with a grunt, feeling a blow to his chest after his demand.

"Hero's don't lose!" Alfred declared before getting his faced slammed flat into the floor. The two of them were caught between heavy panting and laughing, this kind of rough play was probably a lingering effect of their being brothers in childhood. Some things simply didn't change with age.

"I always pinned you when we were kids! Give it up fatty."

"Hey! I'm not fat, I'm well nourished."

"There is nothing nourishing about those heart attack burgers you scoff down."

"How long are they going to keep going at it?" Prussia leant over from his seat, around his brother's back and the empty chair between him and the seated Australian, managing to balance his chair on one leg. Chris simply shrugged with a shake of his head.

"Hours, days, years. They're brothers after all." Prussia and Chris watched as the two swapped between who had the upper hand and who was at a loss. America was a strong nation but Australia did have its more wild side and so the two were matching up fairly well.

"Yo West!" Prussia looked over at Germany, the serious nation still scrubbing at his uniform, not happy until it was once again spotless. "Why don't we rough house like that? We're bruders after all!" Germany took one look at his big brother before going back to his cleaning, he was not going to entertain that with an answer.

"You're so unawesome…" Prussia grumbled before leaning over towards the Australian again. "Say, want to bet on who wins?"

"Betting is what started this." Chris reasoned before turning back to Prussia with a wide smile. "How much you willing to bet against my big bro?"

"Keses. Let's see here…" The Prussian and Australian's bet was called off early however as a figure stormed past their chairs. Chris made the face of a child in hot water and turned away to hide his face from the passing nation.

"Oh Christ. Here we go…"

"If you're quite done throttling your brother!" Alfred and Jett's scuffle was finally called to a stop by a familiar voice. Both American and Australian looked up to see the British Empire standing over them. Hands on his hips and a glare in his gaze as he looked down on the two children.

Jett still had Alfred's face pressed to the floor and Alfred had a hold of Jett's hair but it seemed that neither was quite willing to let go just yet. Of course once Arthur intervened some of the fun of their fight bled away. Jett's smile was history and a dark silence came over him as he released America without a fuss.

"You're such a wet blanket Iggy." Alfred complained while dusting himself off, oblivious to Jett's change in mood. "We're just having fun, don't have to be so uptight all the time."

The Englishman didn't look impressed and his arms crossed over his chest, his bushy eye brows knitted together tightly.
"We're in a meeting; of course I should have known you kids were not mature enough for it." England sighed wearily as though he could not believe his children were so unruly.

"Hey! I'm not a kid anymore England!" While America and England began their usual routine Jett took his chance to escape. He couldn't say a word to that nation or he was sure his control would break and things would become ugly. Quickly he made his way over to his brother and sat down in silence.

Chris glanced over at Jett and smiled his usual grin, glad to see that his brother had made it out without too much more of a scene. Though it seemed that the rest of the meeting had calmed enough for some logical process and order to be found and as always it was the same figures that took control.
Germany, having successfully removed the tomato stains from his clothes cleared his throat while standing with papers in hand. With him seemingly ready to begin the meeting might just follow the proper procedure.

"Ja…I'll do the briefing seeing as no one else seems ready to." Icy blue eyes slipped over towards the Australian that held a heavy sulking aura. Those cold calculating eyes pausing on Jett's form for just a moment before slipping over onto England and America, somewhere in the German's mind something was being formulated. Perhaps it was not logical, perhaps it was not kind but Germany was not about to brush the thought off. Nations had very long memories after all.

Storing it safely in the back of his mind Germany called the meeting to order, the feat taking marginally longer than usual due to the extra participants in the room.
Nations he had not seen a great many years all lay seated somewhere in the room and Germany took a great deal of pride in the fact that not only had they all come together but no new wars had been started in the time they sat together.
Excellent, excellent – now if only that streak of good fortune could, they'd all be set.

…

…

Jett remembered now.
He remembered just how agonisingly boring this whole world meeting nonsense was.
The German's voice was powerful and did at least hold Jett's focus enough for him to forget about the fact that he had been sulking earlier. As he listened uninterestedly to Germany speak and then give others their chance to speak up Jett couldn't help but take notice of a few other faces scattered around he'd not noted before.

What amused him the most was a glance at Russia and China.
The poor Asian nation looked so uncomfortable next to the smiling giant, Jett almost felt bad for him and he certainly did not envy him. During his study of China and Russia he also noticed something strange about the place that Russia sat, was that terrifying man floating by any chance? Jett didn't even want to consider that possibility.

After some time and a great deal of focus and squinting Jett was able to make out the form of someone sitting by America, it had to be Canada. At the thought the figure that had almost been invisible before slowly fleshed out into the quiet little nation.
Jett had to work to not laugh out loud when he saw that Russia was currently sitting on poor little Mattie.
He and the Canadian nation did not mix much as children, his wild nature having only served to scare little Matthew but they had gotten along just fine so perhaps he'd lend Canada a hand after the meeting – If he did not forget him that was.

As the meeting slowly dragged on by Jett noticed that some more of his…extended family had arrived. Standing off in the back of the meeting room the Australian was shocked to see the small gathering of bushy eye-browed males.
A lit cigarette and red hair identified Scotland and with him stood his brothers, Ireland and Wales.

Jett could hardly believe his eyes, those were his older brothers…his much older brothers. He'd only met them on very rare occasions as a child and always did remember the discomfort they brought with them. Scotland in particular he'd been taught to be wary of as a child fairly early on.

The Scotsman's eyes caught Jett's own and he tensed up, not sure what his older brother would think when looking at him. Would he think anything at all? Would he even vaguely remember him?
Oh, he remembered Jett alright.
Without any hint of nervousness Allistor's mouth curled into a smirk around his cigarette and he gave a single careless wave of his hand towards Jett. Did that mean he approved of Jett? He couldn't help but hope so, he didn't fancy getting on that guy's bad side any time soon. However he was fairly sure that hand wave was to see if he'd jump out of his skin like Iggy would have. Jett did not, so he guessed that meant he passed.

He turned away fairly quickly after that and let the meeting pass him by. He showed his face like they'd asked now they should let him return to his peaceful little existence back home without a fight. They'd better let him be or so help him he'd show up with some of their wildlife next time.
Wouldn't be the first time Chris had accidently brought in some type of snake or spider and scared the pants off most other nations.

Yet if this was all that happened at the meeting Jett would be pleased. He just wished for it to end and as if someone far above was smiling down on him it did. Well, kind of.

"The meeting is now on break, please feel free to have some refreshments or fresh air if you feel the need." Arthur dismissed them for a break and like a child allowed to leave the dinner table – Chris was gone.
Rushing outside as fast as his legs would allow. Jett already knew he'd probably be late coming back and covered in mud when he did. Sighing with a faint smile he stood from his own seat, thinking that stretching his legs would do him some good.

As he walked down the beautifully polished floors Jett intended to simply find a balcony on the third floor and stay there for a few minutes for some air. However his steps slowed to a stop when he passed a familiar room. He knew he shouldn't', he knew he should have walked on without thinking about it but he would not be coming back to this place ever again if he had his way….so a quick peek wouldn't hurt him.

Backing up slowly Jett stopped by a familiar wooden door. Slowly he reached out and pressed his palm flat against its smooth surface. Quickly he retracted the hand at the sound of someone coming closer, he turned hastily to face whoever it was – trying to act as though he hadn't been planning on doing some exploring of the past.
The steady and constant footfalls ended up belonging to none other than the German who had been all but running the meeting. Germany didn't seem aware of Jett at first as he murmured something quietly to himself, something about a damned Italian.
When he did notice Jett he gave a short look of surprise before straightening up. What… did he want to talk?

"Excuse me but you are Australia, are you not?" It was Jett's turn to be surprised, he had not expected the German to really stop and speak with him, he didn't strike Jett as the chatty type.

"Yeah, that's me. But call me Jett, not Australia." He couldn't have himself being called Australia or it'd get confusing between him and Chris. Germany looked uncomfortable, as though moving to a true name basis was a tad too intimate for him. Jett had heard somewhere that Germans were very professional.

"Ja. Please excuse my rudeness but I'd like to ask you a question or two. If you have the time." Germany waited patiently for his reply and Jett became instantly wary of him.

"Guess that'd be okay." He allowed slowly. "But if it's about my brother I'd rather not answer. Sure, he is my brother but I'm not his baby sitter." A look of understanding and grievance came over the German's face and Jett could all but see him picturing his own troublesome brother in his mind.

"Of course." Wiping that look off of his face Germany returned to business and began his questions. "You'll have to be forgiving with me, I'm afraid I don't know too much about you or your brother. We've rarely crossed paths and seeing as our bosses are on friendly terms I thought it would be best for me to learn. Ignorance isn't acceptable for a nation. Australia…" There was a brief pause as Germany rethought that.
"Ahem, Jett. I've been meaning to ask about your relations to America and England. You are an English colony, ja?"

Jett's form tensed up but he did not become quiet.
He wore his scar on display for the purpose of reminding people who he was and how he got there and it was certainly no secret what transpired between he and England. He had no excuse at the ready or believable reason to deny the German the information he required.

"Was." He corrected quickly. "No one calls us an English colony anymore. It's a long story." Jett said evasively, perhaps Germany would give up if he thought it was not worth the trouble, much to Jett's dismay this was not the case.

"I see. In that case shall we take a seat outside? We have a great deal of time before the meeting resumes." Jett groaned internally and Germany noticed the hesitation.

"If you are worried about getting back on time, I'd be more than happy to organise a meeting for later…?" He began to offer but Jett was quick to shake his head, no. Absolutely not! If they organised a meeting he'd only have to drag himself out another day. He was here now might as well get it over with.

"Now is fine." Jett agreed and the two walked together down the hall to the balcony that had been Jett's original goal – however it was on the first floor of the building rather than the third. Once outside he was pleased to find that for once the overcast weather seemed to have broken. There was a bit of sun so at least it would not be an unpleasant time to talk.

Each nation took a seat around a small outdoor tea table and as professional as ever Germany waited quietly for Jett to begin. Jett took another glance at the great nation, he was stiff with good posture and no nonsense, and there'd be nothing but facts with him so at least he'd not have to descend into a sob story.

"I'll try to keep this brief and informative. I'll start at the beginning as well." Jett declared nonchalantly even though his hands were shaking under the table.
"I grew up under England's care….."

…
… (Flash back. Roughly 1770.)
…

"Now hold still." The young boy squirmed slightly under the large hands that tried their best to help him into stiff clothes.
"Oi, I said hold still lad." The voice of the older male gentle chided a adolescent Jett. Looking up with a pout on his face the boy huffed.

"But big brother! These clothes are all stiff." He complained, not liking the formal attire that his big brother England had picked out for him. "How am I meant to run and jump in this?"

"A gentleman does not run and jump about like a monkey." England chuckled at the young boys complaints. "You are growing close to the age you'll have to be a gentleman to. Just like your brothers Alfred and Matthew. You wouldn't want them surpassing you now would you Jack?"

The child version of Jett – at the time called Jack – shook his head furiously; the thought of America beating him was terrifying. At his response England smiled and pat his little brother's head gently, the two strands of upward sticking hair slipping past the gaps in his fingers.

"There's a good lad. Come Jack, we have to get you dressed properly. We should not keep them waiting." The child did not complain anymore as he watched England work in the mirror. Looking at his face that in its youth lacked the scar across his nose Jack reached up to tug on his blonde hair uncertainly. It had been getting rather long as of late, England noticed it as well and again ruffled his hair.

"We'll clean up that mop of yours as well. Wouldn't want you looking like frog face." Jack had remembered wondering if there really was a man that had a frog for a face but had been too unsure to ask his older brother for fear of being embarrassed if he was wrong.

The British nation finished tidying his little brother up, dressing him appropriately while vowing not to let the wild little boy go and dig up and creatures in the dirt that day. He'd not be ruining these clothes as well.
With the last few adjustments Arthur sat back on his knees and looked at the excited little boy before him with a warm smile.

"Come, you're ready. Let's go." England held his hand out to little Jack who smiled back as he took it, following his big brother through the door and into the outside world that he'd never been able to truly see from the safety of his brother's care.

The world was great and wide, it was so huge and it made Jack feel so tiny. It felt good.
The world was just waiting to be explored; just waiting to be discovered and his brother had promised him a great discovery had just been made. Jack could hardly contain himself as he followed quickly after England.

However as they walked down the streets Jack stuck close to England's leg, seeing things he didn't like as they walked. There was filth, there was crying and a sense of doom that Jack could not understand at that young age. He was so small but even then as the great British Empire walked ahead of him he found himself loitering a bit behind, captivated in the most sickening of ways by what he saw.
People as thin as rakes and others in the filthy streets begging, was this what he didn't see inside the walls of his big brother's care?

"Jack." He turned when England called and all doubt was washed away at the sight of his brother's warm smile and waiting hand. "Hurry along now, this is sure to be a great day for us." Complying happily Jack ran to catch up with England, forgetting the pain he saw behind him.

Ahh, the land truly was vast and so full of things to be discovered and what a discovery his big brother had unearthed!
A new land, a land way down under where they thought there only to be open sea! A whole new world that could be explored for them, Jack was ecstatic; this was proof, proof that the world truly did hold untold marvels!

While Arthur spoke with his boss a smile was present on his face. Sitting quietly at the tea table the three child nations listened to their big brother talk before whispering among themselves.

"Big brother England found a new land?" America whispered, his excitement a near match to Jack's.

"They say it's huge!" Jack exclaimed in a hushed tone, his arms stretching out far to emphasise his point. "Heard that it's full of danger, that it is a harsh land. Sounds good for an adventure."

"N-No way…" Little Canada squeaked, holding his bear close to his chest. "I don't want to go somewhere scary…"

"Don't worry Mattie. Me, the hero, will protect you from the monsters on the island." America crowed proudly while banging his fist on his chest.

"Do you really think there'd be monsters?" Jack asked curiously, thinking back to what the explorers had said. Creatures that climbed up in trees and giant beasts on two legs that could hold smaller ones in their stomach. They sure sounded like monsters.

"We'll go explore together. You, me and Mattie will go and conquer that land!" America declared.

"Ya!" Jack agreed, the two jumping up on the cushioned seats with their battle cry and fists held high and in Jack's little hand his adventures stick was tightly clutched. The two broke out in cheerful laughter, brothers that shared a similar sense of adventure were often a handful but at the very least they were happy.

"Boys!" England's scolding tone cut through the air and the pair quickly sat, hands in their laps with barely contained giggles.
"What have I told you about that unruly behaviour? Standing on the seats like animals, really I've taught you better…ah? Jack what are you holding there?"

Jack scurried to hide his adventure's stick but he'd been caught out by England who was faster still and snatched up the stick from his little hands.

"Jack what have I told you about brining weapons indoors. Look you've made the seat dirty and your new clothes to!" England groaned in dismay. America snickered through Jack's whole scolding while Matthew worked on making himself invisible behind his big brother.

"Why can you never just do as you're told lad…?" Arthur finally sighed in exhaustion. Jack on the other hand just fiddled with his fingers while pouting quietly, giving a little sniffle after his scolding had finished. England paused seeing the boy working to be brave and not cry, a small smile coming onto his face as he sat down next to Jack.

"Alright, that's just about enough of that." He murmured soothingly to Jack while motioning for America and Canada to sit with him.
"I have stories to tell you of the new found world. Come I'll tell you tale of the creatures that live there." All three young nations scurried over to their big brother to listen to what stories he'd have to tell them of their new world.

And Jack dreamed of the land that would become his own nation, the very special gift that would be given to him by his beloved big brother.

…
… (Back to Present Time.)
…

"You were not found with your island nation?" Germany's surprised tone cut across Jett who nodded carelessly as he picked at his nails.

"Well you see when they discovered my nation I was still under England's roof. It had not yet been colonised by England so I was not there just yet. Would you like me to continue or should we stop here for now?" Jett offered but Germany gave him the sign to continue after checking his watch, they still had the time.

And so Jett prepared to continue, thinking to just what happened next after the discovery of his home. However that was where he began to feel more uncomfortable. What came next in his story…was where perhaps the facts lead more into his personal pains; he should cut them out entierly.

"After that it was almost a whole decade before I travelled to the newly found land down under." He spoke curtly, not giving Germany the detail he truly deserved. "We came on a fleet of eleven ships and our colonisation began." Germany was looking at him strangely, as though he was not pleased with the information that he was getting from Jett.

Just as Germany opened his mouth to say something a familiar head popped up over the railing.

"Whatcha up to?" Germany all but jumped out of his skin hearing the voice that came seemingly out of nowhere and looked around towards the door like any normal person would. Jett on the other hand just rolled his eyes, all to use too his brother's surprise appearances.
Chris causally sat with his arms crossed on the balcony railing and his ass seated on a tree branch just under it. His face was smeared with dirt and his diggers uniform a mess, just as Jett predicted.

"Nothing important." With that he quickly stood from his seat, the sound of the chair legs scrapping across the ground assaulting all their ears but he paid it no mind. Not wanting to admit to what they'd been discussing.
"We'll continue this another time if you want Germany." With that Jett escaped from the other nation and his brother, leaving Germany very confused and Chris frowning.

"Ahh, so it was that huh?" Chris murmured knowingly while swinging himself up onto the balcony ledge to sit while pulling bits of twig out of his clothes and hair.

"You know what we were discussing?" Germany inquired with a lofted brow, having recovered from the shock of seeing the wild nation.

"You bet. He's my big bro, I know all his little moods and that escape he just pulled wasn't all that smooth, ya know?" Chris grinned at the German. "If ya really whana know I can fill you in on the stuff he won't. Seeing as you're interested and he was freely talking. Though you'll have to be forgivin' with me. My memories not what it once was."

Germany eyed the happily grinning nation with caution. "Your memory? Surely you're not old enough to be forgetting…?"

"Ahh, well ya see it's not that I'm old or anything. But I can't remember any of my history after a certain point. Though as Jett's brother he filled me in about his history so I can still help you out with that part." Chris's smile did fade slightly. "But he won't tell me a thing about myself so I can only give you so much. It's a bit of a touchy subject for him."

"That should be acceptable. Please…" Germany gestured to the seat opposite him but Chris declined, opting to stay on the balcony so he could kick his legs and swing back and forth, unintentionally making the German nervous that he may fall and lose more memories.
"Could you please tell me a bit more about his relationship to England?" Chris looked surprised at that request though Germany did not look up to meet his eyes.

"As he was speaking I couldn't help but notice he seemed to remember England fondly and seeing how he responds to your brother now that does not seem to be the case any longer. More importantly when he gave me the last bit of information his attitude changed completely, I felt as though I was not hearing all there was to hear." Germany explained simply.
"I merely wish to understand all I can about this."

"Well let's see here…" Chris mused while swinging back on the railing. "If you want to know that as well then I'll have to go back a tad bit further."

…
…(Flash Back- Roughly 1775-1783)
…

This was not what Jack had expected, not at all.

Standing opposite him in the hallway was his big brother, both he and America had grown again but this time America really had surpassed Jett.
America was an adult…when did that happen?

"Bro…" America had used a quiet tone, something that did not sit well with Jack, knowing perfectly well that a soft tone did not suit his big brother in the slightest.

"No, shut up!" Jack shouted back at him, throwing his arm out to his side furiously – as if he could physically toss away America's words. He was not an adult, not yet. Jack stood as young teen against his fully grown big brother.

"Don't speak like that America! What are you saying? This isn't like you at all, stop making that serious face and come out side with me. We'll go and play heroes again, just like you always want to." Jack offered, sure that his brother would return to normal, he'd smile and shout something stupid…surely he would. This was all some stupid prank of his or something – he couldn't be serious right now.

America's face did not lift, the serious expression did not fade and Jack's heart began to twist painfully in his chest, what was happening here? This was wrong…all of this was just wrong! Where was the happy smiling brother that Jett had grown up knowing, and who was the sullen adult that stood in front of him now? Why was this happening?

"C-Come on now. This…This time I'll even let you take all the glory. I-I'll even be the damsel if you want so please…stop this." Jack reached out, grabbing hold of his brother's clothes.

Even his clothes were wrong. They were not the messy attire that made their big brother scold them on the importance of dressing like gentleman, nor was it the suit that said elder brother had forced on him.
No it was a uniform…and it was the wrong colour. He was wearing blue, why was this idiot wearing blue?
They wore red uniforms! Not blue, never blue!

"Little brother…" America slowly reached up to grab hold of the smaller hands that desperately clung to him and remove them gently. Jack could feel it, angry tears beginning to appear in his eyes, this had to be a lie.
There was no way America was betraying England.

America smiled sadly down at his little brother, reaching out to pat his head.
"Come with me Jack. We can go together." Jack had backed away from America at those words, slowly shaking his head as the tears freed themselves and slowly travelled down his face. America watched him miserably and his hand slowly lowered, both his littler brothers had refused to go with him…it hurt but he'd been prepared for this.

"I have to do this, for my freedom. One day you'll see Jack." Alfred promised quietly.

"You're wrong!" Alfred had flinched back at his little brother's shouting voice. "I'll never betray big brother like you have!"

Staring at the youthful tear stained face Alfred could feel something like regret tugging in his chest but he knew he could not stop. Instead he smiled, a small, pitiful smile and walked past his brother's shaking form. His poor little brother could not stop him, he had not yet grown up enough to even try.
As America passed him by he murmured soft words to Jack that struck him straight through his core.

"Go your own way."

Those words shattered Jack and as his heart travelled up into his throat, suffocating him and strangling any words he might have tried to speak. His big brother turned away from them all and walked right out those doors.
Their big brother had left them and from the room that America had come running out of before bumping into Jack…there could be heard the sound of shattering of glass and curses of a broken man.

It hadn't been long after that there was a final bloody scene in the rain…

…
…

"All I want is my freedom!" The shout came over the sound of rain beating against the muddy ground, clear for all to hear. America stood opposite his former big brother, gun raised towards the other as he took a final stand for his independence.

They'd been fighting, not just England and America…but Canada and Jack as well. They'd all faced their brother, they'd all failed and they'd all been torn apart by the betrayal.
Jack had held Matthew in his arms after a fight with America had been lost; he'd tried to stop his bleeding and tried even more hopelessly to stop his brother's tears. But he'd been crying too…they were all crying, all but England.

Throughout their war against their rebelling brother never had the great empire cried, never did he allow himself to fall so low but now it seemed as though even his internal efforts were not enough.
England stood alone on the dreadful day, armed with a single gun against America's forces. Jack could not help him and neither could Matthew, they'd already fallen and now with Matthew still in Jack's arms their big brother stood ahead of them at the front of the battle with the last of his strength.

"I'm not longer a child, nor your little brother. From now on consider me…independent!" Those words had been the final straw for England. With what power he had left England charged. The blade of his gun catching America's own as he used it as a shield. The weapon was thrown from America's hands and landed uselessly in the mud, just out of reach.

Panting and weak England clung to the last of his strength as he aimed the gun at his former little brother.
"I won't allow it!" He shouted back at America but even through Jett's eyes…he could see the tremble in England's arms and knew it was not exhaustion that had them shaking.

"You idiot! Why can you never follow anything through to the end?" Arthur demanded, not as a country but as a brother.
America and England, Arthur and Alfred. They were not the same thing…but a country must always serve their people, they are all that they can and ever will be. Arthur had taught all his brothers that lesson over and over again – now he paid the price for that lesson in full.

"Ready! Aim!" The call came out from behind America but the order to fire never came. There was hesitation on the battle field. Jack opened his mouth, willing himself to cry out and stop the madness…but not a sound left him.

However….England's weapon lowered. America's eyes widened in surprise as his older brother gave in, but there was no sense of victory to be found as the broken nations spoke.

"There's no way I can shoot you. I can't…" The gun was discarded and along with it England's body fell to its knees. A hand pressed to his face as if to fight back the tears that finally flowed freely and along with them his shaking voice came.

"Why…? Damn it why? It's not fair…!"

"You know why…" America stood over the fallen nation. From where Jack was kneeling with Matthew behind Arthur, he could not see his older brother's expression. Would Alfred be smiling? Would he be pleased with their brother's defeat? Would he turn on them and end their family for good?

No….instead America walked away. His freedom had been won, his fight was over and now he was leaving their side forever.

Jack would never forget that day, he could never forget the day that their sturdy and impossibly powerful big brother had been crippled before his very eyes. He'd never forget that day and he'd never forgive America.
He'd never be America,

And it seemed….
England could not forget either.

When they returned home England had not spoken a word, for the longest time he'd been alone in his office. There was not a sound from within its walls and no matter how many times Jack would knock there was never an answer.

For what seemed like years Arthur remained hidden away and outside of his walls their home became worse.
The soldiers who had fought in the war returned home only to find unemployment soaring, people were growing desperate and things were becoming bleak.

Jack had been afraid, afraid that their nation would fall into complete decay and he'd implored his big brother day after day through the door.
'Please come out big brother!' That had been his only wish for so many months spent waiting for Arthur.

Just when Jack was about to give up hope for his brother the door was opened. Filled with relief and hope when he saw his brother standing tall again Jack had run to him and hugged Arthur tight.
The great British Empire looked as sturdy and strong as he had in Jack's memory; it was as though he could not feel the loss of America at all anymore.
He would make it all right, Jack had no doubt.

At least not at first.

The arms that had usually so warmly embraced him in the past did not hold him tight in return. Nor did his hand rest on Jack's head while gently reprimanding him about being a gentleman.
Instead Jack got a brief smile and Arthur walked on ahead without him, leaving his little brother staring after him without a clue what he was supposed to do.

As time passed things did seem to be going back to normal, Arthur spent all his time talking with nobles and his boss. He spent most of his days with the higher ups and Jack could only assume that he meant to repair their way of living.

In an effort to show England that he could be relied on for keeping things in order at home Jack made sure to always wear the suits that he hated and to keep things perfectly tidy and clean.
He no longer brought wild animals home and refrained from building forts within his room or tracking mud into the house. Jack restrained himself for even going out to play in the dirt and mud, he had to prove to England he could help and be a grown up.

He worked to keep all of Arthur's stress from piling up and at the end of every day he'd rush to the door and wait on the bottom of the stairs for his brother to return home.
When Arthur would open the door in every day and come out of the rain Jack would jump up from his seat and help Arthur shrug off his heavy jacket. He'd ask Arthur how his day had been and if he could do anything to help him but every day Arthur would do the same thing.

"That's a good lad." A quick pat on the head and then he'd leave without a glance at Jack. Back to his study, back to his notes and work.

'Does he not see me?' Jack had wondered after this went on for quite some time. Holding Arthur's heavy coat to his chest Jack bit back the tears that threatened to overtake him.

'America is gone…but I'm still here right?' Jack's shoulders had shaken with the effort he put in not to cry. 'Mattie and I…we're still here!'

More time passed and the pattern continued, Arthur only even said those words to Jack anymore and on some days he wouldn't even say that. There were no stories being told and no goodnight tuck in from their big brother anymore.
Then there came a time when even Mattie was no longer with them. Instead his other brother was in the care of. France took care of the timid nation much better than England had and now the house was even emptier. With no brothers to play with in this big old house and England remaining so closed off, Jack didn't have anyone. Jack became more and more alone and uneasy – he missed his brothers. All of them.

'Go your own way.' Jack shook his head as the American's words came back to him. No, he'd never betray his big brother, even if things got rough he could endure it for Arthur.

Frustrated and anxious Jack decided to try a different approach.
Jack started actively going out with his brother when he could, sticking close to him but also making sure never to burden him. The teenaged Jack made sure to pay attention to even the most boring of conversations with Arthur and his boss. During these trips outside the safe walls of their home he young man began to notice something somewhat troubling.

As Arthur would talk to the higher ups and officials he outright ignored those that seemed to be suffering the most. When Jack had asked Arthur about this his big brother had merely pat him on the head and reassured him that everything would be okay. Jack wanted to believe his big brother but when he looked over his shoulder, back towards the places that Arthur did not look – he could see it was not alright for some.
People were struggling, people were starving and some were stealing. Those that stole food to survive were punished harshly and Arthur did not seem to notice. Even when a child was taken away for trying to feed themselves they were supposed to ignore it.

Jack tried to look away as well….but he only became increasingly frustrated.
This felt wrong to him.

So one day Jack had broken away from his brother's side, walking to one such child that had tried to make off with some bread. The bread was old, stale and probably growing mould by this point but still she looked as if she was to be punished in full for the crime.
That didn't sit quite right with Jack.

He was a growing nation under England's roof and as such he held some power. He expressed his displeasure with all the charm and grace that Arthur had taught him to use in politics and worked to have the girl freed and forgiven.
His efforts were rewarded, the child was set free and the food returned. Jack had wanted to give the child more food but he could only do so much and after that he'd ended up being scolded by Arthur for disrupting the peace and allowing a criminal free.

It had only been a little girl though, not a criminal – he tried to tell Arthur as much but it was all in vain.
His pleas were ignored and Arthur let him go with a warning not to cause any more trouble. That had been the first time England spoke to him in a great deal of months and he'd been thrilled at first…only to find that he was not allowed to help those that seemed to be in pain.
His joy turned sour quite quickly after that.

Eventually he could take it no longer.
He could not be ignored and he could not let his brother ignore those that were starving and suffering as well.
Jack began to act out.

Crack.

It started with the discard of the suits and then continued on to the resuming of inappropriate language and other ungentlemanly acts. Yet he still waited for his brother to return home every day, thinking perhaps one day Arthur would realise he was dressed poorly and covered in mud and would have a heart attack followed by a sever scolding.
That day never came.

Jack began to act out more violently in an effort to gain his brother's attentions. Acting cruelly to those that approached him, picking fights and outright disobeying orders. He even allowed his hair to grow, now it had to be held back in a short pony tail and he thought that the sight alone would remind Arthur enough of France to react.

Finally there were results, but not the type that he had wanted.
Arthur scolded him but it was done briefly and most of the time through someone else's tongue or hand.

Jack was reaching breaking point.
Now he no longer sat on the bottom step and waited for his big brother and he no longer greeted him with a welcoming smile.

The first day that Arthur had come in the door and out of the horrid weather and Jack had not been waiting for him….Arthur had paused.
His hand instinctively held out for the head he'd usually pat after coming home and his jacket halfway off his shoulders awaiting assistance, but his little brother was not waiting for him on that day.

For just a moment Arthur had felt something stir in his chest and a look of pain washed over his face but it was gone quickly and for the first time in what felt like forever he took his own jacket off and was not greeted home. It had occurred to Arthur to try seeking Jett out but in the end he never took that course of action.
Instead he merely walked slowly down the quiet and dark hall back to his study alone and returned to business as usual.

Jack was beginning to crack under the pressure.

"Arthur!" Jack had shouted after England one day as he made his way down the hall towards his study like he did every day to lock himself away once more. Much to Jack's surprise his brother had stopped and turned back to face him with an exhausted sigh.

"America I really don't have the time to…." Arthur stopped, realising what he'd just said. An expression of utter despair came over the great nation's face as he turned towards Jack, knowing he'd have to mend his error but the damage was already done.

Creak.

Jack's expression had, at first, held the same miserable torn look that Arthur wore but it quickly twisted into rage. An anger he'd never felt before towards his own brother grew in his chest.
Through all the ignoring and the people suffering Jack had never felt so personally wronged by his own brother. He'd never felt as though Arthur had entirely forgotten him until that moment.

"Listen, lad…" Arthur began to speak but Jack could take no more of this treatment. His endurance wasn't enough.

"Do you even know what my name is?" His scream had echoed through the entire house, the walls all but shook with how loudly he bellowed out those agonised words. "Don't you even remember who I am? So what if America is gone? So what!"

Slamming his palm against his chest Jack glared up at his elder brother with an expression of hatred that he'd never been able to conjure up before.
"He's gone but I'm still right here – Me. I'm still here!"

"Now listen here!" Arthur had become angry himself, turning fully to face his little brother. "Your behaviour is getting out of hand. Your clothes and attitude are beginning to become unmanageable. I don't want to punish you but if I must-"

"Shut up!" Jack barked. "Punishment is better than being ignored, bastard!" Unable to take another second there in the house with Arthur, Jack had turned away from his brother and fled out the manor into the rain that waited outside the doors. Arthur had shouted after him, even taking a few steps after the younger nation with an arm outstretched but Jack had always been fast and was gone before England even had the chance to stop him.

Sighing heavily Arthur's hand lowered slightly before pressing against his forehead.
"Jack….your name is Jack. I didn't mean to forget." Arthur dared not allow himself tears; he dared not let himself cry again. He had not lost another brother; he had merely unintentionally alienated him.

…
…

Jack ran.
He did not know how long he ran or how far he had gotten. He had no idea where he was half of the time and he was blinded by the rain the other half. When finally his legs gave out and his lungs screamed their protest to the heavens Jack stopped. Collapsing back against what felt like a wall while panting heavily.

His face angled up into the rain as the soft soothing drops of water poured down onto him, helping to ease the ache of his tired body.
Slowly he slipped down the wall and onto the muddy ground, now he looked like one of those suffering people that his brother chose to ignore. How fitting.
Without the formal clothes of his brother and the mud that clung to him all over he hardly looked like a nation or someone of a noble upbringing. He truly did appear to be a good for nothing, starving waste.

But he did not feel lowly. Jack felt almost free, almost.
He'd spoken the words he'd willed himself to speak for months but it hurt as well. It hurt because he did not know what good it would do or if England would even miss him while he lay out in the rain.

While Jack was thinking a soft scuffling sound caught his attention. Slowly Jack's eye lids slid back over green hues as he looked towards the sound. A small cat sat in the rain by his side, the poor thing looked to be half starved itself and with a sorry laugh he reached out to pat it.
The cat hissed and backed away, scratching at his hand.

"Ahh, come now." Jack cooed softly. "I won't bite…" He tried to urge the cat to let him pat it but the little thing was quite a stubborn beast. Jack smiled and although he got cut by the cats claws and chewed up by its sharp little teeth he still tried to win it over whilst laughing.

While he was enthralled by his play time with that violent kitty, a small figure had peeked its way around the corner. Calling to the cat was a girl's voice, the cat immediately left Jack's abused hand and ran to the small form of a hiding girl.
Jack recognised her as the girl that had been caught stealing. The same girl he'd allowed to go free.

"Hello there." He smiled at her even though she seemed afraid of him, the girl no doubt recognised him from that time as well. She didn't look any healthier; in fact when Jack looked at her frail arms he could see she was even thinner than last time.

"Hello sir…" Came her small squeaked reply. The cat curled around her legs affectionately mewling at her as though expecting food that she obviously did not have.

Jack took another glance over the girl before standing up with a groan. She jumped back from him, still afraid and the cat hissed in warning.

"Don't worry." Jack looked at the two and grinned with a wink. "Just wait right here." With that he walked away from the wall and towards the main road. As he looked around Jack knew exactly what he was looking for and the smell was what alerted him to its presence.

Turning to his side Jack's eyes landed on a bakery, the scent of beautifully made bread coming to him sweetly. It was the end of the day and they'd be discarding the older bread.

Without even stopping to think about the consequences Jack had grabbed up an armful of the bread and without a word walked away with it. The bread was lukewarm in his arms and he held it protected from the rain under his clothes. The girl was just where he'd left her and when she saw him returning she inched closer to the wall, not sure what to expect.

When he produced the bread for her to see those childish eyes grew large. She glanced between him and the stash of stolen food about ten times; unable to believe he'd just give it to her. Jack smiled invitingly holding the bundle out to her, urging her to take it. He never felt happier than when her little hands reached out to take the bread.

"Don't go eating it all at once you'll get sick and you won't have any to eat later. Head on home now." The girl nodded rapidly and began to run down the back street that they had met in. The cat following after her quickly, no doubt wanting some of that food.

Jack felt good, he felt better than just good he was positively glowing. Arthur always told him that their people were their happiness and lives. Jack did not yet have his own people but…he was beginning to think maybe those that were suffering now would become his life. Perhaps girls like that would be able to find salvation with him as their nation – wouldn't that be nice.

While contemplating this Jack had started to walk away but the sound of a howling cat's screech stopped him dead.
A cry went up in the air.
"Thief, thief!"
And all at once Jack felt the weight of his actions; he was not the one that the word 'thief' was being shouted at. Instead it was the girl.

Turning back Jack took off running down the alleyway that the girl had vanished into; it came out onto the other side into a large street and with many people gathered around it was hard to spot the centre of all the commotion at first.
When he saw it Jack felt his blood run cold.
The bread he'd stolen lay in the mud, ruined for the girl and the cat lay in a similar fashion. Its weak mews could still be heard as the girl crouched by it, whispering something desperately.

Someone had kicked the cat and knocked the bread from her hands and that person was still shouting thief. Jack recognised the man in the uniform, an enforcer of the law. He was advancing on the girl and just for a second Jack's heart and mind stopped working all together, he saw a club coming up…that man was going to strike the girl and that girl was crying.

And Jack broke.

Snap.

Striding forward, through the sea of heavy rain coats and umbrellas Jack walked right into the centre of the slowly gathering circle.
His hand found itself resting on the smooth handle of his machete and drawing it free from his hip. The officer turned to face Jack, the sound of approaching footsteps turning into a pounding run against the wet, muddy ground.

As he turned the man hardly even had time to register what came flying down towards his face as Jack descended on him. The sound of mental hitting flesh came as a sickening thud, thankfully Jack still had enough sense not to use the sharp edge of his blade, using the blunt side instead so it was more of a club than a true blade.

The man fell to the ground and the wind escaped him, blood exploded from his nose and a cry from his lips. Still Jack only raised the weapon again, bringing it down on the man's hand, forcing him to release his hold on the bat before standing over his bloodied body. Behind him the girl from earlier was trembling, shaken to the point of tears when she saw the violence Jack was capable of. That was fine, she was safe so it didn't matter if she feared him.

"Go on." He muttered to the girl without looking at her. "Get out of here already." Gathering up the cat in her arms the small girl looked back at Jack for a moment and while he expected to see fear all Jack saw was gratitude. Silently the girl bowed her head and ran off through the crowed, not a soul dare stop her.

"What's going on over here?" Another office had arrived, seeing what appeared to be a filthy street rat attacking the man on the ground. After that…things escalated far out of control.

Jack turned to face the new enemies head on; sheathing his blade he instead readied his fists with a dangerous look in his eyes. He'd fight until he was dead or they were on the ground. Jack would not back down – he wasn't going to backtrack now.

…
…

"Arthur! Sir Arthur!" England's head rose from his paper work at the desperate beating at his door. What could someone want at this hour? Did he not make it clear he wanted no one to disturb him?

Standing with a sigh Arthur turned to look out the window and into the rain outside.
"Come in."

Thinking that perhaps something of importance had happened England allowed the person entrance. A young man stumbled in, he was dressed as an official officer but he seemed too young. A messenger boy perhaps?
He was drenched and was currently getting Arthur's lovely carpet wet, much to his annoyance but the lad was panting heavily as though he'd just run a great distance and looked even more distraught.

"Spit it out lad, come on speak up." England demanded, growing agitated. He'd already fought with Jack that day; he didn't feel like adding incompetence to the list of things that annoyed him that day.

"S-Sir…" The young man breathed out, his tone bordering terror. "I-It's your brother sir. It's Jack Kirkland…"

Arthur spun around fully to face the boy, his eyes widening at the words. What now? Oh heaven have mercy what now?
Without even grabbing his coat England had rushed from his office.

Little brother…what have you done?

…
…

It hurt. Ahh, yes did it hurt. But it felt so damn good.

Jack stood in the rain, blood running down his face as he gasped desperately for air. There had been more officers than he first thought but as the fight went on his power as a country had shone through even in their greater numbers. He did not take up his blade again knowing if he did death would be on their hands.

His fists were split at the knuckles and bled far worse than his face, surely he had broken some bones in his hands but Jack could feel none of it.
All he felt was freedom, all he felt was the joy of being seen and even if he was seen in a bad light he was no longer ignored.

He fought for the sake of one starving child but he was fighting for more than any one of the men that came after him. The heat in his body made it impossible for him to feel the rain that pelted down on his face or the pain that his body would no doubt feel later when he'd come down off of his violence high.

"Come on! Come on!" Jack shouted, throwing his arms out to the side, welcoming a new attacker. "You bloody wankers got nothing left do ya?" Jack felt joy like he'd never felt before, he felt rage like he'd never known and he felt a pain deep inside of him that he did not know could exist. It w as flurry of emotions he couldn't take the time to fully process and the result was a crippling mix of madness and glee.

There were more officers that had not yet fallen but they did not attack, they'd become uncertain once discovering he was Jack Kirkland, what were they supposed to do with a country causing a scene? This annoyed Jack, they should fight for themselves.

"Fine…" Jack's fists came back up and he stepped towards them. "I'll go first than." As he spoke Jack suddenly felt a blunt force slamming into the back of his head, an attack from behind he'd not expected knocking him to his knees.
For a moment the entire world shook and spun, tipping off onto its side. Jett saw small pockets of black in his vision but it only fuelled the red haze in his mind and spitefully he smiled.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood Jack slowly staggered back up to his feet, looking over his shoulder he saw an officer had hit him with a bat and his eyes widened and pupils dilated as he stared down at the human.

"If I was human…a blow like to the head would have killed me. You trying to kill me? Fine…that's good." Jack's hand found its way to his machete and once again he'd drawn it, damn common sense, to hell with caution – he wanted to see someone else's blood this time.

"That means if you get a little fucked up, it's no skin off my back!" The blade came flying down and much to Jack's approval it was blocked by the club. Smirking he threw another blow, finding the officer's attacks to be clumsy and uncertain, he had not been trained to do sword play of any kind – after all they had guns.

The bat was thrown from the officer's hands, leaving him defenceless and Jack raised the sharp edge of his weapon above his head. He had gone too far, he knew it but he couldn't seem to stop grinning and he could not remove the hatred he felt for these people, his gaze was tainted red just like his clothes and skin.

"Stop! Stop I say!" Somewhere behind them Jack could hear someone shouting but he paid them no mind. Too far gone in his insanity to even realise the voice that called to him was one that he should have listened to.

As the blade came down towards the officer Jack's eyes noticed something that almost made him stop dead. The officer was nothing more than a young man, only a little older than himself – it was just some kid. Jack did hesitate, the motion jerking to shaky halt as his eyes looked over the officer under him. The large blue eyes were filled with terror and it made Jack's breath hitch. This was not an enemy…it was just some poor young sod that had gotten too cocky in attacking a nation.
Was he really to kill this person that was nothing more than a boy?
Was Jack really able to…?

"Jack!" A familiar voice shouted his name and a different force stopped his blade in its decent. The sound of metal against metal grinding together screeched out across the scene.
His machete was lost, flying out of his hands in his clumsiness and Jack fell back onto the muddy earth with a small thud. Jack hardly even registered what had happened, the officer was no longer his target and Jack found himself face to face with England.

His older brother held a blade pointed at his face and Jack could see the older nation panting heavily, he almost looked like he'd run all the way here. Arthur's face was contorted with an emotion that Jack could not place, he'd never seen such an expression directed at him before but for some reason it made his chest tight. There was a silence, the only sound that Jack could hear was heavy breathing as he and his older brother stared at one another – until Arthur began to speak.

"Stop this madness." Arthur ordered Jack, the tip of his sword not wavering from Jack's face. "You're going to get into trouble Jack, enough is enough! Committing such an offense-"

"What is my crime?" Jack demanded, shouting up at his brother. He knew that he should stop, knew it should end here and that his words would bring him nothing but pain…but this was what he knew to be true.
"Is my crime trying to live? Is it the mere act of trying to feed one's self that is now a crime brother? Oh, great British Empire?"

"You know very well what your crime was." Arthur growled through grit teeth. This was bad; he was being backed into a corner by his angry little brother.

"Then I deny my crime. I deny your laws and punishment because it is wrong." Jack's eyes darted to his machete, it was within grabbing distance. Arthur saw the motion as well.

"Jack, don't-!" He hardly even got the words out before Jack had dived for it, his hand snatching up the handle from the mud and swinging it violently around to knock his brother's blade away.

"Cease this lunacy at once!" Arthur was shouting at him but Jack would not see reason, he came at his brother again. The two weapons screaming as the clashed together. Jack was blinded by his anger and his attacks were becoming less elegant and more vicious, he was losing balance and control, both of which England kept.

Arthur's skill outweighed his brother's raw strength and rage. But even this did not aid England in the end and instead it sealed the end to their fight.
As Jack lunged at Arthur his machete, which had long since been past its prime, broke between the handle and the blade. The weapon split in two when hit by England's sword and without realising it Arthur's motion continued through…and cut into Jack.

With a shout of agony Jack fell backwards, the two halves of his weapon falling on either side of him as he fell back down into the disgusting muddy streets.
As the red haze faded from Jack's eyes and mind he became aware of how much pain he was truly in and…his face. Oh god his face, it was on fire. Jack's hands reached up to clutch the area of his face that was causing him such anguish and his fingers came away slick with his own blood.

The crimson liquid dribbled down between the cracks in his fingers and onto the ground below. It blinded Jack and suffocated him, he knew the wound was deep but he did not realise it was unintentional.
Arthur looked down at his little brother, face twisted in horror as he watched the blood stream from between his fingers. His blade was coated with Jack's blood as well, all of the denial in the world could not evade the fact he'd just sliced open his younger brother's face.

A wound from a human on a country would heal in no time at all to a human but a wound from one country to another…something like that would perhaps never heal. Countries bore scars of the events in history that most prominently effected them – neither of them were to know at the time, that this scar would become permanent. Arthur was mortified, his heart was pounding in his head and he could hear nothing over it other than the sound of Jack's gasps of pain.

Trembling Arthur's grip on his blade tightened and his free hand balled into a fist. He knew his role, he knew his duty and even if it hurt him he could not drop to his knees and comfort Jack. He could not be a big brother, in that moment he had to be a country.

"This situation can still be salvaged. Jack Kirkland, you will repent for your crimes and you will pay for them in full. As you are not a human you can still be redeemed for these acts. All you need to do is claim your regret and vow your remorse and regret for you actions…What say you, Jack Kirkland?" Arthur lowered his blade and held his hand out to Jack but when he saw it to was stained with his brother's blood he withdrew it hastily.

"No." Arthur's entire body tensed at the simple word.

Oh please, god. No.

"What was that…?"

"No I say!" Jack's harsh eyes looked up at his brother, the blood that covered his entire being giving him an all but demonic look. "I regret nothing, I refuse to feel remorse or repent. My actions on this day are my own and they are my true nature!"

Jack did not know pain like this could exist, truly he did not know that he could inflict so much suffering on to himself. He wanted to return to those days by his big brother's side and remain there forever but he knew he could not.
He must not stop moving forward, Arthur would see. His big brother would come through and after that day they'd stop the suffering together. Surely….surely his big brother would see!

Arthur said nothing though, his head lowered and Jack could not see what type of face he made behind the strands of blonde hair over his face. His silence began to scare Jack – was Arthur really not going to see things Jack's way? Not even for a moment pause to consider that maybe Jack might have made a good point?

"Engl- brother!" Jack began to speak again, speaking directly to his brother. Not England but to Arthur. "Please you must understand. I can't live this way anymore…this is not a way that I ca-"

"Then go your own way!"

Silence.

In that moment Jack knew he'd not be returning to their home. He'd not be getting a pat on the head from his big brother and he'd not be gently scolded any longer.
It was not his big brother that had raised him from birth that stood there but instead the powerful nation that he was.

"Jack Kirkland as the British Empire I sentence you to life. As long as a country shall live you shall live away from here." Arthur spoke loudly, his voice carrying through the whole town, through the back streets and far into the fields beyond. The entire nation seemed to hear his order.

"You will be sent to the island prison with the rest of your kind. It is there that you'll serve your sentence, alone." Jack couldn't even feel his pounding heart anymore; he felt nothing other than this slow crushing sensation. Nothing but immense loss and grieving.
"For the greater good of the British Empire…."

"Brother!" He shouted, reaching out for Arthur even as strong sets of hands grabbed onto his limbs. "Big brother. No. Stop, let me go!" Jack kicked and struggled against the many pairs of hands it took to restrain him. He kicked and squirmed only to slip in the mud under his feet while Arthur turned away and began to leave him behind without so much as a backwards glance.

"Please Arthur!" Jack screamed. "Please don't do this to me!" He screamed until his voice would no longer work and all that was left behind was tears. The tears that burned his open wounds as they dripped onto the ground below, lost in the downfall of rain above.

…
…

"On this year, the year of 1787, we send out the first fleet to the newly found world down under. This land will be named Australia." Arthur delivered the speech flawlessly at the harbour the day of the fleet's departure.
"Eleven ships will make the journey to start proper British colonisation." He announced. "I will personally oversee the voyage and I do hope that the colony of Australia will come to serve the greater good in time." Arthur finished and there was a round of approving claps given. Arthur thanked his boss with a smile and continued on with business as usual.

All the while, locked securely in chains Jack remained in bowels of the ship. It was dark and the entire world rocked back and forth with every small wave. His wounds were dressed poorly but as he was not human and they all healed quickly, all but one.

The bandage on his face was still soaked through with blood and despite knowing it would only continue to hinder his recovery…Jack tore it from his face.
In the reflection of his cuffs Jack could see the jagged gash across his nose, marring his once flawless face.

"Never heal." He whispered softly. "Never heal, always hurt…so I don't forget." The chains rattled as Jack pressed his hands to his face and wept. There was no one with him to listen to his cries; he could be strong once he arrived at his prison.

'We'll explore that world together!' Jack remembered having had someone say something like that to him a long time ago but it was just him and he was not exploring…he was trapped within it.
The sorrow and remorse that Jack had felt began to twist and mutate into a different emotion. Hatred.
That once unknown emotion had become eerily familiar to Jack now and it was all he could feel. Because he did not cry when he was angry, he did not weep when hate filled him…he'd just have to learn to hate so he would not be weak.

He'd hate America.
He'd hate his big brother
And he would always despise those words that he whispered to himself on that long voyage across the sea.

"Go your own way…"

…
…(Back to Present Time.)
…

Chris stopped speaking with a small and remorseful smile. "Countries have falling outs like this all the time. People like us don't really get the chance to stay together." Germany had been silent through all of Chris's talking, finding him to be much more informative than Jett had been.
"Do you have more questions Germany?"

"Ja. Just one for now. Jack?" Germany frowned at the name. "That is what you called him, ja? Why is his name not Jack any longer?"

"Hm. He threw it away I suppose. 'I don't want the name that wanker gave me!' or something along those lines. He just took up whatever name he fancied. Guess he thought it was smooth." Chris said with a laugh and shrug.

"I see… Would you be able to tell me about why there are two of you?" Chris frowned at that and Germany clarified. "Jett was the colony from England that came to Australia but you were the original country were you not?"

"About that, well you see…I have no clue!" Chris laughed cheerfully though Germany didn't seem to find it funny and eventually his serious face stopped that laughter. "What I mean to say is, I may have been there when Jett arrived, and I may not have been. I have no memory of anything before my first birthday with Jett and no one seems ready to tell me anything."

Kicking his feet up Chris smiled brightly while staring at the sky. "And frankly I don't care much. I'm Australia now and I have my history inside of me, making me who I am now. Whatever grievances I had back then don't matter now. Moving forward and all that."

"Ja….moving forward." Germany wasn't sure what to make of Chris's attitude but he couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way. He did not remember past a certain time himself but he never went out seeking it. Perhaps he and the wild beast of a country did, oddly enough, have something in common.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Chris suddenly groaned. "We're way late! Crap, Jett's gunna have my ass and if he doesn't then Iggy sure will!"

Germany's eyes widened as he checked his watch. They were very, awfully late and that….oh that just made the German's poor little head explode. Still…he had gotten quite a bit of information so perhaps he could forgive this one time.

…

…

Jett scowled at Chris as he tried to stealthily take his seat next to him. He was awfully late and that in turn had made the German late, making Jett feel the need to apologise to him later.
For the time being he didn't say anything to Chris as the meeting was back into full swing and his little brother was smiling in that guilty sheepish way of his.
With a heavy sigh Jett made a mental note to beat him over the head later.

Again Jett fell into a bored state of mind, finding himself fiddling aimlessly with a pen on the table before him. Gradually his mind wandered back to the room he'd almost stopped at before bumping into Germany. He probably should have left it alone seeing as he'd distanced himself from those days but there was a curiosity that Jett couldn't ignore.

Would the room be empty after so many years? Would it be locked up?
After a while of the maddening thoughts plaguing him Jett decided that he'd just go and check on it after the meeting.
Just a quick visit to ease his curious mind and that would be that.

So when the meeting was broken up and the various nations began to make their way out, stopping to speak to one another as they slowly gathered up their things Jett took off almost as fast as Chris had during the break.
He'd have to make it fast or someone might question him.
Making a bee line for the old room Jett made sure to dodge any nation or person he thought might try to speak to him, thankfully there were few of those.

Once again Jett found himself standing out front of that wooden door. There was less hesitation on his part this time as he pressed his palm flat to its smooth surface and with a steady intake of air he pushed.
It was unlocked and slowly slid open under his hand with a quiet squeak. The room inside smelt of gathering dust and was shrouded in darkness, the sole light coming from a sliver between the curtains on the window.

As Jett peered into the quiet little room he realised it was unchanged. The room in his memory looked exactly like the one here though it was a little less dark and a little more lived in when he remembered it.
Jett felt his feet pulling him inwards but he recoiled, if he went into that room now he'd no doubt have stupid thoughts he'd rather ignore.
If he stepped foot in that room now he'd no doubt stay there too long and be found out so instead he took a slow and cautious step back away from it.

"Australia?" Jumping at the sound of his nation's name Jett turned and found himself looking at the owner of this establishment and the absolute last person he wanted to run into.

He and England stared at one another for what felt like a life time, Jett frozen where he stood and England surprised by the sight of his colony in this place. That surprised expression eventually faded into a smile, it was a tad bit uncertain and nervous but still the great empire did try to smile at the island nation.

"I didn't expect you to come up here…" He stepped closer to Jett who in turn took a step back, not willing to close the distance between them. "Ah. That's not to say I'm upset you came up here!" Arthur amended quickly, still trying to smile but frankly he didn't quite know what to say. He and Jett had not spoken since…well since their last falling out.

Jett still said nothing, his silence did not encourage Arthur at all. Still the Englishman pressed on, hoping that with the time passed he'd be able to get a word in finally. Hoping that he'd perhaps be able to speak to his colony after such a long divide.

"I was hoping we could chat. Perhaps have some tea and a nice sit down?" Still Jett was silent, his head angled away from his mother nation. England began to feel even more discouraged.
Stepping forward again he reached out for his colony, wanting to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Jack, please come and just-" The hand that had reached for the younger nation was batted away viciously, causing Arthur to flinch at the violence directed towards him.

"Don't call me that!" Jett snarled back at England, his voice becoming free at the sound of his original name. The name that Arthur had given him as a child. "You have no right."

Arthur had not intended for things to take this turn but Jack was testing his patience, this misbehaving, this inability to listen or behave himself was driving Arthur to breaking point. Arthur had tried to mend the bond between he and Jack and all he got in return was harsh resistance, every single time.

"No right?" Arthur repeated the words, insult and rage brewing up in him as it had in the Australian. "No right?" Striding forward angrily Arthur's hand slammed into the wall by Jett's head. "You are my colony! I have every right to call you by your name. You are my little brother!"

"No!" Jett shouted the single word. Leaving it hanging in the air, leaving a chill hanging around them as the two stood like statues. Arthur recoiled from Jack, staring at him with mortified eyes.

"No…?" The word stung more than Arthur had imagined it would. Jett had never before rejected him as a brother, he'd never outright said it. Arthur had his assumptions but hearing the simple rejection brought up memories of the American revolution. He couldn't have that happen again, he would never let it happen!

"What the bloody hell are you saying?" He demanded of Jett who finally met his eyes with that familiar green eyed glare.

"You haven't been my brother since you pushed me away. Left me on that god forsaken island all alone." Arthur knew it had been coming, he knew that Jett would use this against him. The past being a weapon sharper than any blade.
"If we were really brothers you wouldn't have left me there and forgotten about me! You would not have had me do those things to Christian…" Jett's words died in his mouth. He couldn't say anymore, he wouldn't. Arthur knew what he'd done and Jett wasn't going to repeat it for him.
"There's no way we are brothers."

"Fine." Arthur hissed, his pride making it impossible for him to pull out now. "Have it your way. However you are still my colony, you don't have a choice. That will never change, you hear me, never!" With that Arthur stormed away, there wasn't enough tea in the world to cool his head off right then.

As he stomped down the hallway England completely missed the form that had stood around the corner listening to the whole exchange. He missed the pair of cold blue eyes that followed his retreating form down the hall and didn't notice when the figure uncurled its arms from its chest and push off the wall.

"Germany! Ger-man-y!" Germany turned to see Italy running from the bathroom. "Did you wait long? Were you bored without me? Were you, were you?"

"Very bored, ja." The German responded nonchalantly, his eyes sliding back over towards the hallway he'd heard the strange exchange between brothers from.

"Vee, vee~ Luddy, you got that serious face again." Italy told him while flapping his hands about pointlessly. Germany merely smiled with a soft 'hmpf.'
"Ooh…is Germany thinking about something really hard? Like maths?" Italy asked in that naïve way of his.

"Ja." Germany responded with a barely visible smile. "I was just thinking about the future and what I should do." As Germany lead Italy away from the bathroom and back towards the meeting room back to Kiku and the other somewhat unmanageable Italian he gave a single glance over his shoulder, seeing the Australian nation was still standing in silence.

That was good, if he had fallen to his knees Germany might have been disappointed.

…

…

Conviction- End.