Author's Note: Okay, so I sat down yesterday to write a short crack-fic about England's fairies. It turned into a not-so-short fic that kinda fails at being crack. XD

So, yeah, I didn't really plan any of this? I just kinda came up with it as I went, so if it's horrible, that's why. But I had a heckuva lotta fun writing it, so please read, review, and enjoy!
(To clarify, 398.2 is the call number for the fairytale section in the Dewey Decimal system. I saw it on a pendant on Etsy and I had to use it!)

It was happening again.

The countries were staying in Canada for a world meeting, and in the parlor of the hotel sat England, talking to the air and smiling. Seriously, you'd think he would have gotten over this kind of thing already!

"You really are too kind, Flying Mint Bunny. Oh, watch that tail, Charlie, you'll end up hitting somebody one of these days!" It really sounded downright creepy. America watched him from the doorway, weirded out beyond human comprehension, but somehow unable to look away. It was like a car crash. He was planning on walking quietly away and pretending it had never happened, but it seemed the universe had… other plans.

"Ohonhonhonhonhon!" America froze as he heard France's distinct laugh, and looked to his side to see the nation standing there, watching England with a teasing smirk. "It looks like Arthur still plays with his imaginary friends!"

England whipped around, a scowl on his face. "Bloody- how long have you gits been watching?" He shouted, addressing both America and France. America gulped; he was in for it now.

"Oh, um, I wasn't really-" America started, beginning to back away slowly. Of course, France just had to interrupt him.

"Long enough." He said flippantly. "Really l'Angleterre, you'd think you would have gotten over this by now! It is rather childish of you to still indulge in these fantasies, non? Or maybe…" He leaned in, smiling lecherously. "Perhaps that is something you are into, hm?"

England stuttered helplessly for a moment, before finally deciding actions spoke louder than words and whacking him on the head; hard. "You pervert!" He shouted. "Don't you ever speak that way about my friends again!" He stood up in a huff, storming out of the room with his fists clenched at his sides. "Let's get away from these idiots." He muttered under his breath. America sighed as he watched him go; he really hadn't wanted it to go like that at all. Sure the old man could be a little weird, but it wasn't- wait.

America craned his head to watch England turn the corner, and as he did he could swear he saw a blue tail flicker behind the wall. He gaped for a second, then ran to the corner to try spotting it again. But this time, all he saw was England, walking away and muttering to himself.

"What!?" The British nation said irritably as he turned to face America, a scowl on his face.

"N-nothing!" America spluttered. England just huffed and turned back around, headed to his room.

America stood for a second, processing what had just happened. There was no way he just saw… he couldn't have, right? But then again, if he had… gah, he needed someone to talk to! But who could he bother…

"Maaaatttiiiiiee!" America whined as he banged on his brother's door. "Open uuuup!" He cupped his hands, blowing warm air into them to warm them up. Goddamn it, why did his brother have to be so all-fired cold? The door opened, to reveal an exasperated-looking Canada. He was wearing oven mitts, and a white apron with a big red maple leaf on the front. Sometimes America thought his brother really had a problem with putting his flag on everything. Not that America did that. Nope.

"Oh, for the love of- what is it, Al?" Canada said, shooing him inside before closing the door after him.

America sniffed the air. "Brownies!" He said excitedly. "Can I have some?"

"No, you most certainly cannot." Canada said firmly.

"But whyyyy?" America pouted.

"Because I made them for a get-together with Gilbert and Lars." Canada quirked an eyebrow at him, hoping he'd get the message.

Unfortunately for him, he was dealing with America. "Can't I have just one? I'll leave enough for them, I promise!"

"Al, these brownies have a special ingredient in them." He emphasized the last two words, lifting both eyebrows.

"Whaddya mean a special ingredient?"

Canada facepalmed. "Zucchini, Al. I put zucchini in the brownies."

"Oh! Why didn't you tell me? I don't eat vegetables pretending to be desserts, no-sirree-Bob! Ugh, you can keep 'em!"

Canada rolled his eyes. Though, as long as he kept believing it was zucchini in the brownies, they were both probably better off. "Why are you here, anyway?" He said, taking off his oven mitts and setting them down on the counter before walking out of the kitchen and into the living room with his brother. He closed the door behind him before he sat down on the couch, motioning for America to sit next to him. Probably best to keep his twin away from that smell. Just in case.

"Oh! Oh, yeah!" America's eyes widened, having remembered why he'd come here in the first place. He moved over to sit beside Canada before he started talking. "Okay, so I was in the hotel, right? And I saw Artie talking to his imaginary friends, which was really super weird because, obviously, y'know? But then Francis pissed him off and he totally cursed us both out as he was walking away I friggin' swear I saw a tail, dude!"

Canada blinked, his brain still catching up. "You saw a tail… on Arthur?"

America groaned. "No! No, someone else's tail! Like on a horse, or a pony or something!"

"Or a unicorn?" Canada said jokingly. Knowing England…

"What!? No! Maybe! I- ugh, I don't know!" He sighed, falling back on the couch. "Mattie?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you think Dad even still has all these imaginary friends, anyway?"

Oh, dear; now Canada knew it was serious. The only times he still called England his dad was when he was really worried about him. "I don't know, Al." He said. To be honest, he sometimes worried about England too. Ever since he could remember, his father-figure (though he was more America's than his own) had claimed to see these… creatures. At first he'd thought it had just been a game he liked to play with the children, but as he grew he realized that wasn't the case. England really believed these things he was talking about, and sometimes he wondered if it wasn't a sign of something deeper.

"But really, is there something wrong with him?" America said. "I mean, if he were a human seeing this shit, he'd be talking to a therapist right now! Or in a room with padded freaking walls! Don't you think it's even a little weird?"

"A lot of nations have special friends, you know." Canada pointed out. "Like how you have Tony!"

"That's different! Everyone else can see Tony! And sure not everyone is convinced he's an alien, which he totally is, but at least they don't think he doesn't exist, period! With Dad it's just- it's just him talking to air! He looks crazy, and don't say you don't think so because I know you do! And if I saw one of his 'friends', what does that mean? Does it mean they're real, or does it just mean I'm crazy too?"

"I don't know if I'm the best person to ask about that, Al."

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean that… well, no matter what these things are, I'm obviously not an authority on them."

America blinked. "You know what, you're right!" He stood from the couch, grinning. "I'mma go find Artie!"

"Wait!" Canada called, stopping his brother in his tracks. America turned to look at him. "Don't ask Arthur about this!" Canada continued.

"Why not?" America said, tilting his head curiously.

"You know it's a sensitive subject. And with what you just told me, it sounds like he's probably still mad at you." And since England is the one seeing these things, he probably isn't the most reliable source of information, is what he didn't say.

"Seriously? Aw, man… then whaddo I do?"

"Try some of the other older nations." America nodded, before heading back out the door. "And Al?" America turned to face him again. "Be careful." The southern twin nodded once more, before stepping onto the porch and closing the door behind him. Canada collapsed onto the couch, his energy drained from the conversation. Why did his brother have to be so high-maintenance?

Only moments later, there came another pounding on the door. He stood up to answer it, expecting to find America standing there again, but was instead greeted by a pair of familiar faces.

"Yo, birdie!" Prussia said, his arm slung around Netherlands' shoulder.

Canada smiled. "Oh, great! You're here just in time, the brownies are just cooling!"

America walked through the halls of the hotel, wondering to himself who he should talk to first. Let's see… France had known England since he was little, but they weren't exactly on the best of terms even back then. Scotland, Ireland and Wales all knew him pretty well too, but it was the same situation with them. Plus, he was pretty sure they weren't even here; he hadn't been paying attention enough the past day to know for sure, but still. China would definitely count as one of the older nations Canada had been talking about, but he didn't know England nearly as well as the others. But then again… China totally had all kinds of fairytales, right? Only… Chinese instead of English. Yeah, that would work! He grinned at his own genius, now headed for China's room.

When he got there, he knocked on the door. When there wasn't an answer, he knocked harder. An irritated, "I'm coming, aru!" came from inside, and the door finally opened to reveal a frowning China. "Aiyah, it's you? I was making tea, what have you interrupted me for?"

Well, that was definitely something he and England shared in common. "I'm here to ask you about fairies and shit." America said.

China quirked an eyebrow, but let him in all the same. "This is an unusual request, aru. What would you like to ask?"

America opened his mouth, then shut it again. Did he really want to tell him the whole story? If he did, he figured there was about an eighty-percent chance China would think he was crazy. Come to think of it, Canada probably did too, he was just too Canadian to say anything about it. "Do you think they exist?" Is what he finally came out with.

"Well, I wouldn't know." China said, a finger placed thoughtfully on his chin. "I don't like to rule out anything, though."

"Why not?" The way he had said that sounded promising.

"Well, as you probably had no idea, fairies are not common in my culture, aru." America rolled his eyes. Oh yeah, he was just the stupid, oblivious American, wasn't he? He totally knew all about Asian culture! He read manga, thank you very much! "But what we did have," He snapped himself out of his mental rant to listen as China continued. "Was dragons."

America's jaw fell. "Dragons? Like, real, honest-to-goodness dragons?" He asked.

"Yes, real ones. And not the huge, ugly western kind either. My dragons were sleek and beautiful."

"Well, excuse me for having ugly dragons..." America muttered. "And everyone else could see them?" He said aloud.

There was a moment's pause. "…No." China finally answered. "Only a few could. And to be honest, I have not seen one in a long time." He looked up, eyebrows creased in thought. "Why do you ask, aru?"

"Oh, um, no reason…" America said awkwardly. "Just curious."

China sighed. "Westerners and their strange ways… now go!" He shooed America toward the door. "My tea will get cold if I talk to you too long!"

America was left outside the door, thinking about what China had just said. On the one hand, if more than one person was seeing things other people couldn't, he'd have to seriously reconsider his hypothesis that England's friends were an isolated occurrence. Oh yeah, he knew big words!

On the other hand, it didn't necessarily mean the creatures were real. It just meant that more nations were crazy than he'd thought. He sighed, whipping out his phone to text Japan as he headed to his hotel room.

Dude, u up for som gmes?

A few minutes later found America sitting on the floor in Japan's hotel room, where the Asian nation had brought his gaming system from home and set it up. The two had figured out a long time ago that they both needed something fun to do in between meetings, and if they could have fun together, all the better. And so, for about four years in a row now, one of them would bring a system and some games, and they'd spend whatever free time they had shooting bad guys together.

The enemy of the day? Zombies.

"Aw, dude! I totally just blew that guy's brains out! Holy shit the graphics are amazing!" America shouted gleefully as he maneuvered his character around his half of the screen, leaning this way and that and moving the controller around in the air. No, they weren't playing a Wii; he just has no ability to sit still.

"Yes, I thought you would enjoy it, Alfred-san." Japan said, sitting calmly with his own controller a comfortable distance away from the American. Not that he wasn't comfortable sitting next to him, though he did like his personal space; he'd just learned a long time ago that anyone sitting next to America while he was gaming was likely to get whacked in the face by a stray controller.

"Yeah, it's really- aw hell, no no no health health HEALTH! Shit." America huffed, waiting for his character to pop back from the dead before picking up the controller again. "Hey, Kiku?" He asked, still focused on the screen.

"Yes?" Japan replied.

"What do you know about fairies?" It was worth a shot, wasn't it? Japan was one of his closest friends, after all. Even if he didn't have any information, at least he wouldn't laugh at him.

"It depends on what you mean by fairies."

"Whaddyou mean whaddo I mean?" America said, confused. Fairies were fairies, right?

"Well, I do not have fairies in my culture like there are in western stories. But tales of many other supernatural creatures come from my country." He said this as he casually began to beat a zombie's head in with a crowbar.

"No kidding? What kinds of creatures?"

Japan paused for a moment, thinking of an example. "Have you heard of the kappa?"

"Whassat?"

"It is… it is like a turtle, except it walks on two legs. And there is a plate on top of their heads which is always full of water."

"Why?"

"It gives them their power. And it is said that if it dries, the kappa will die."

"Whoa…" America said, taking down about three zombies before continuing on. "So… have you ever seen one?"

"No… I don't think so."

"You don't think so? Whaddyou mean you don't think so?"

"Well…" Japan paused the game, and America turned away from the screen, his full attention on him. "I feel like I may have seen one… or something like one. A long time ago. But when I try to remember, my memory is very hazy."

"How do you forget something like that?" America wondered aloud.

"I don't know." Japan admitted. "But a few years ago, when England-san came to visit my house, he told me he saw one in the bath with him. Or at least, whatever he described sounded like one. When I looked, though, I couldn't see anything." America raised his eyebrows. So England's… whatever it was wasn't just constrained to fairies and unicorns, then? This was a new development. "Can we keep playing?" Japan asked. America looked at his friend to find a faraway look in his eyes. He looked almost… sad.

"Sure, dude!" He said cheerfully, hoping to bring a smile to Japan's face. Or, knowing Japan, at least that awkward little half-smile he sometimes wore. They started the game back up again, and stuck to lighter conversation for the rest of their time together until it was time for both of them to head to bed.

The next day, America found himself sitting in the meeting room, bored out of his mind. He leaned back in his chair, completely zoning out as Germany gave a presentation on… the economy? Global warming? Wurst? He wasn't listening, obviously. Instead, he found his mind wandering to England.

England. The nation sitting on the other side of the table, exactly three seats to his left. To the untrained eye he seemed to be paying attention to Germany, but America knew better; he could tell the nation's thoughts were drifting just like his own. Of course, the real tip off was that he wasn't even taking notes anymore; craning his neck, America could just make out the crudely-drawn figure of a unicorn under England's pencil. It took all he had not to snicker out loud.

Throughout the meeting, though, he noticed something; every so one in a while, England would lift his hand, seeming to shoo something out of the way. And once he even deigned to, ever-so-discreetly, reach behind him and pet what looked like empty air. America's eyes widened. So wait, his friends were with him at the meeting? How often did they come? Were they just there the whole time, listening in on international affairs?

He felt a brushing by his ear, and turned his head to see a glint of yellow in the air beside him. "What the…" He muttered, though whatever it was was already out of view.

"America?" He snapped up to face Germany, who was looking at him disapprovingly. "Is there something you'd like to share?"

"Uh-um…" America stammered. He finally settled with putting on the biggest grin he could muster, and saying; "Just that you guys shouldn't have to worry about all this! The hero will save you, no problem!"

"And how will you save us?" Germany lifted one eyebrow.

"Superheroes!" America replied. Luckily for him, the German simply rolled his eyes and continued on. It was almost sad, really; America knew all his stereotypes well enough that nobody batted an eye when he tried a crazy excuse like that. Sometimes he kind of wished he could be taken more seriously.

But then, that would require being serious, wouldn't it? He wasn't quite ready to completely give up fun in the favor of work just yet. Remembering the flash of yellow from earlier, he looked around curiously, trying to see if he could catch it again, but he saw nothing.

Nothing except for England, casually petting the air behind him again. Okay, that just looked weird.

After the meeting was over, America immediately holed up in his room. He whipped out his cell, dialing a number he hadn't had to use in a loooong time. If neither China nor Japan had the answer, it was time to try the next step up.

"What're ya callin' me for?" Ireland's thick, irritated brogue came through the speaker. Gee, he didn't waste time with pleasantries, huh?

"Hey, what's wrong with family calling family, huh?"

"I've told you before, America, we're about as related as strawberries and cucumbers."

"…Huh?"

"Both fruit, but nothing alike." He heard Ireland sigh. "Alright alright, whaddyou need?"

"I just wanted to ask you something. What do you know about fairies?"

"What do I know about fairies?" Ireland repeated. "America, have you gotten yourself involved with the sidhe?"

"What? No, I said fairies!"

"'Cause I can tell you if you have to get out now. Don't take anythin' from them, don't eat anythin' they give you, an' if they ask you any questions, you don't know the answer!"

"Wait wait wait, what the heck is a she!?" America asked. He was pretty sure he'd said fairies, not… whatever the heck that was!

"The sidhe is the proper Irish name for what you people call fairies. And let me tell you, they aren't those nice, happy, flower-wearing little butterflies you see in the Disney movies, either. They're vicious creatures, and like I said, you don't want yourself involved with them!"

"So these… sidhe… they still exist?" America asked.

"What? Of course they still exist!" There was a pause. "Wait a minute… if you aren't in any kind of trouble with 'em then why're you askin'?"

"Well, it's just… you know Arthur and his friends, right?"

"England?" Ireland scoffed. "Of course you're calling about 'im! Little daddy's boy…"

"Hey, I am not a-" He was cut off when the line went dead. America tched as he shoved the phone back in his pocket. "Asshole…" He muttered. He got that the Celtic nations had bad histories with England, sure, but how long could a person hold a grudge? Every nation in the world had at some point gotten into a battle to the death with another, and almost all of them got over it eventually. Though… he supposed he hadn't been there when his caretaker had done what he had to the three.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. He stood to answer it, and found England standing there. "Artie? What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Yes, well, er…" England looked down at the floor. "I just… though I should apologize for the other day." America blinked. That was the last thing he was expecting to come out of the Brit's mouth. "Obviously I had a good reason to be pissed at the frog, but I suppose you didn't really do anything wrong, so… I'm sorry I called you a git. And an idiot."

"Oh! Don't worry, dude, s'cool!" America reassured him. "Hey, uh, you wanna come in?"

"I don't know why I would, but… why not." England stepped past him and into the room, seating himself on the bed.

America sat down next to him soon after. "Hey, Artie?" He asked, something having occurred to him.

"What is it?" England asked.

"You believe Tony is an alien, right?" England seemed to furrow his brow in confusion, so he continued. "Like, from outer space and all that? You don't' think he's just, like, a painted toddler?"

"A painted- where the hell would you get that from?"

"I dunno, some tv show Kiku showed me… but still, do you?"

"Of course I do, idi- Alfred." America had to smile at the fast correction. "What the hell else would he be? And why are you suddenly worried about what I think?"

"No reason." America brushed it off. They spent a good bit of the next hour talking with each other. America almost brought up the fairies a couple of times, but remembered what Canada had said to him. Though… when England left, he could swear he saw, just for a moment, the flapping of a small pair of mint-green wings.

Two more days passed, with America making no progress on the whole fairies thing. He tried calling up the other Celtic brothers, but he got pretty much the same reaction as he had with Ireland. Eventually, he figured he only really had one option left.

"Alfred? What are you doing here?" France looked at him with a puzzled expression as America stood out front of the door to his hotel room. He'd been putting this off for two reasons; one, he knew England and France hated each other, so he wasn't sure if it would even be worth it to ask him. And two? The Frenchman creeped him out big time.

"I have a question." America said.

France smiled. "About l'amour, I presume? Well, you have come to the right man! Tell me, what do you need to know? Or do you want to borrow something, is that it? I have plenty-"

"Hell no!" America almost screeched, causing a couple of nations to poke their heads out from their rooms. His cheeks turned pink; this was so not how he needed this to go. "No, that is definitely not it. Can I come in?" The sooner he could get away from all these prying eyes, the better.

France stepped aside, letting America in and closing the door behind him. "What is it you need to ask?" He questioned, stepping ever-so-slightly into America's personal space.

America edged away. Why did he ever think it was a good idea to ask to be let into France's room?! "What do you know about fairies?" He asked, as had become the routine.

France blinked for a moment. "This is about Arthur, isn't it?"

"What? How could you tell?" He wasn't that see-through, was he?

"Oh, you are completely see through." Well then. "We both know fairies are not your cup of tea, hm?" He laughed at his own little joke before continuing. "Therefore, if you are suddenly interested in them, it must be something about Arthur."

Well… his logic was pretty much flawless. So what did he do now? Try his best to omit as much as he could and still salvage his dignity, or go for broke? "His imaginary friends." He finally started. "Do you know how long he's had them?"

"Oh, ever since we were both very young." France said. "He used to play with them all the time." France sighed. It had been fun, when they were younger, but as they both got older and England had never seemed to be able to let go of his imaginary friends, well… he tended to tease him, yes, but France was honestly quite worried about him.

"And could you ever see them?"

France looked slightly surprised by the question. "Well… to be honest, there was a time when I pretended I could." He said. "But nowadays I realize it was simply my overactive imagination, nothing more." He sighed. "Arthur was so cross when I stopped pretending with him. He made a fuss over it for years, asking me how I could have stopped believing."

"Believing?" For some reason, that word reminded America of something.

"Oui, he used to say all the time that you could only see them if you believed in them." France confirmed. "Sounds like something out of a Disney movie, non?"

So all he had to do was believe, then? The gears began to turn in America's head. All he would have to do was believe, and then he'd be able to see them. But how could he believe in something if he didn't know if it was real or not? And he still wouldn't be able to prove they weren't real, because what if he thought he was believing but he really wasn't, and they didn't show up?

"Alfred?" America was snapped out of his train of thought by France, who was leaning in uncomfortably close and looking at him strangely. "Is something wrong?"

"No no, everything's fine!" America said, scooting towards the door. "In fact you've been very helpful! Goodbye!" He left the room before you could say baguette, and headed to his own room. Not to hide away, or to play video games; instead, he grabbed the keys to his car, and searched on his phone for something he hadn't needed in a while.

Directions to the nearest library.

America sat in the large, quiet room, surrounded by bookshelves as he thumbed through one of the many books in the huge pile he'd found on mythology. Besides fairies, he'd also found quite a bit on unicorns and leprechauns. Though nothing about flying green bunnies, which was a little disappointing. Nothing that was of much use to him, however.

Wearily, he shut the book he was reading and grabbed another from the pile. He looked down at it, and saw it was a book he'd grabbed from the shelf almost as a joke; Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg. He flipped through it idly. The whole Disney fairies thing, funnily enough, seemed to work similarly to how England's fairies did. What with the whole 'believing' thing and all. He wondered if England's fairies died if you didn't believe in them. He felt a little pang in his chest. He sure hoped not, or he might have a lot to answer to.

Something about these books just didn't feel right. The stories England had told him when he was little about these magical creatures were so full of life that they seemed almost real. It struck him for the first time that maybe they were real. Perhaps that was how he never seemed to even have to think before he told one?

He grabbed another book, and was about to mindlessly flip open the cover when something caught his eye on the front. The name displayed was A. Kirkland. It couldn't be... could it? He gawped for a moment, then flipped the book open hastily, eager to find the first story. His suspicions were confirmed; these were all the stories he'd heard in his childhood! Grinning like an idiot, he felt like a kid again as he eagerly devoured the first tale. "Once upon a time, in a land far far away, a young fairy named Buttercup was dancing through the flowers…"

"Artie, dude!" He got on his cell phone as soon as he left the library, grinning into the receiver.

"What is it, Alfred?" England asked from the other end.

"You never told me you wrote a book!"

There was a pause. "How did you find out?" England finally asked.

"I found it at the library today! Seriously, why did you keep it a secret? When did you publish it anyway?"

"One question at a time, Alfred." England chastised. "I published it in 2008. And… well, I suppose I just didn't find it important. That's all."

If that wasn't a lie, America didn't know what was. "Come on, dude! You can tell me the truth!" He prodded.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Well…" England finally said. "I really only wrote it in a fit of nostalgia. I was never expecting it to be published, and when it actually was… I suppose I just thought you'd think it was silly of me to write down all those old stories."

"Naw man, of course not! They're pretty cool!" He had only read the first one, but it had been nice reliving those memories. He found himself enjoying the fairies and unicorns just as much as ever.

"Well, that's- wait." England stopped himself. "What were you doing at a library?"

America rolled his eyes. "I do read, thank you very much." He said.

"No need to take it so harshly." England commented. There was a sudden rustling as he pulled the phone away from his ear, but America still heard the troubling cough on the other end of the line.

"Hey, dude, are you okay?" America asked.

"What? No, no, I'm fine… just a-" He sniffled. "Cold. I'll be over it soon."

"Okay, just… take it easy, okay? I worry about you!"

"I swear, you're like a mother hen. Isn't this supposed to be the other way around?"

America chuckled. "Yeah…" He said. "Hey, I'm gonna go now, okay? See ya later!"

"You as well." With that, America hung up the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He then immediately turned back around and went inside the library to check out the book of fairytales. Who was he kidding, he couldn't stop at just one!

Back in his hotel room, America plopped down on his bed with the book, immediately flipping to where he had left off. Let's see… he'd finished the first story, so here was the second. He began to read. "Once upon a time, there was a little boy. The boy had hair that was yellow like the sun, and eyes blue like the sky."

America's eyebrows furrowed. Wait a minute… it couldn't be… could it? He continued through the story, and the more he read the more he was convinced; England was writing about him.

Okay, that was a little weird. Even weirder was that he didn't remember England telling him any of these stories! He was sure his caretaker's tales had never actually involved him. But then… why did they seem so familiar? He devoured the rest of the book, reading about the little boy's adventures with the fairies and unicorns. When he had finally read it through, cover to cover, he collapsed on his pillow, looking up at the ceiling with the book clutched almost protectively to his chest. This was freaky weird. Did this mean he… he used to see them too? But there was no way! You'd think he'd remember something like…

But no. He scrunched his eyes closed tight, reaching as far back as he could.

"No faiw!" America called, pouting up at the fairy in the air. "You can't pway tag, you can fwy!"

"Alfred, you were the one who asked her!" England chuckled, watching from the porch with a cup of tea in hand. It was a beautiful sunny day, and America had wanted nothing more than to play with his friends in the garden. It was true that he'd been the one silly enough to ask a fairy to play tag, but still!

"If I ran I'd be slower than you!" The fairy pointed out, flying down to eye-level with the young boy. "We can play hide and seek?"

America smiled. "That's a gweat idea! Whaddyou guys think?" He turned to look at Charlie and Flying Mint Bunny. The unicorn was standing right behind him, and the bunny was perched on the creature's head.

"Okay!" Flying Mint Bunny said. "Who should seek?"

America thought for a second, then grinned mischievously. "Awtur!" He said, pointing to the older nation.

"Hm?" England looked up from his tea.

"You'we seekew! Count to a hundwed, okay?"

England smiled, setting down his teacup. "Very well then. You had better watch out, though, because I'm the greatest seeker there is!" He stood, covered his eyes, and began to count. The others scattered joyfully, America along with them.

America was older now, and to anyone else he would look like a normal ten-year-old boy. He came up to around England's waist, something he was very proud of. At the moment he was reading on his bed, one of the stories England liked to bring home from his travels. His caretaker was out now, like he normally was, doing God-knew-what in God-knew-where until God-knew-when.

"Alfred?" America heard a gentle voice as he was reading on his bed. "Alfred, do you wanna come play with us?"

He looked up to see Flying Mint Bunny and Tinkerbell, hovering there beside him. But instead of dropping everything to go play with them, he simply turned back to his book. "No." He replied.

Tinkerbell flitted in from of him, a sad look on her face. "Why not?" She asked. To her surprise, America lifted a hand and shooed her away, practically swatting her in a bid to get her out of his face.

"'Cause I don't want to, okay? Now leave me alone!" He yelled. The others looked at each other, then flew out of the room, one after the other.

England returned three weeks later, just walking into the house with a new bandage on his arm as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't been gone for a month. As if he could just come and go as he pleased without any explanation, without any apologies.

But then, that was just his right, now wasn't it?
Later that night, the two sat at the table, eating dinner in uncomfortable silence. The loudest sound in the room was the forks clattering against their flatware, which seemed deafening compared with the lack of conversation. "So…" England finally said, in a bid to lighten to atmosphere. "Did you play with our friends any while I was gone?"

"Friends?" America scoffed, still looking at his plate. "What, you mean the fairies?"

"Yes, who else would I-"

America cut him off. "That's stupid. I'm too old for that stuff, I know they don't exist."

A fork clattered. America looked up to see England with an empty hand, staring at his colony, his mouth agape and his brow creased in disbelief. "W-well then." He finally stuttered. "I suppose… if that's how it is." He stood from the chair, taking his plate with him. "I think I'll just retire early…" He muttered. With that he left the room, leaving America in the dining room, toying listlessly with his food.

And if he'd wanted to, he would have seen the fairy, the bunny and the unicorn, casting him one last glance before they went to join their only friend.

America jolted out of his memory and sat straight up, his eyes wide in disbelief. No way. There was no way that was all just his imagination, it was all too real! He could remember everything, Charlie, Flying Mint Bunny, Tinkerbell, and all the others! He believed! Oh yes, he was a believer, and he couldn't leave her if he…

No. No, this was serious. Sooo not the time for the Monkeys.

But wait. Even if they were real, (which they totally were, heck yeah) he had hurt them so bad! Oh, God, he was such an idiot! Imagine someone saying you don't exist? How would you feel? Not so good in the self-esteem department, huh? And just imagining England's face from that night… a lump began to grow in his throat, and he sniffled pathetically, scowling at himself. Dammit, heroes didn't cry!

Okay, so he believed. Just fine and dandy. But… what did he do about it? He'd assumed that once he started believing he'd just kind of see them like that. He was honestly pretty disappointed with the lack of fairies in the room. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was already bedtime. As in, not the time to be wracking his brain over stuff like this. With a huff, he stood up from the bed and went to go get his PJs on. He'd confront this in the morning.

The next day, America walked into the meeting room to find he was the first one there. Which he couldn't help but be confused about. He'd been trying to get there first for years, but he never seemed to be able to beat England, who was always there before him drawing those annoyingly perfect little pictures on the chalkboard. Maybe he was late for some reason? He just hoped he was okay. He'd been hoping to talk to him today, anyway. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask.

Little by little the nations began to filter in. "Hey, Mattie!" America said to Canada as the northern nation sat down next to him. "Do you know where Arthur is?"

"No, I don't." Canada said. "Though… it is weird that he isn't here yet."

"I'm getting worried, man. He's never late for a meeting! Never!"

"It'll be fine, Al. He probably just… I dunno, tried to cook his own breakfast or something."

America chuckled half-heartedly at the joke. But still, he couldn't help the feeling in the back of his head that something was wrong. They all waited about five more minutes for him to show up, until Germany decided they'd been waiting long enough and started the meeting without him. So began the usual chaos of their meetings, which meant America was free to sit back in his chair and zone out until somebody actually needed him. Not that anyone ever wanted his opinion, anyway.

"Alfred!" Wait, who- America blanched, his eyes wide. Hovering in front of him, in the middle of the air, was a small girl. With a yellow dress. Pink hair. And wings.

"Jesus Christ!" He exclaimed, losing his balance and flailing his arms around helplessly before he fell over backwards in the chair.

Everyone turned to him. "America?" Germany asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Er, Al? Are you okay?" Canada asked as well.

"Who the hell are you?" America asked his mysterious visitor, completely ignoring the others.

"I'm Tinkerbell, don't you remember?"

Tinkerbell? Oh, this was so Disney. Wait a minute… Tinkerbell? "Tinkerbell!" He exclaimed, causing the other nations to stare harder. Geez, didn't they know the meaning of private business?

"Thank goodness you can see me! Arthur needs you!"

"Wait, Dad needs me? What for, what's wrong?" America asked frantically. He knew it! He knew something had to be wrong! England was never late! It would tarnish his gentlemanly image or something like that!

"Come with me, Alfred!" Tinkerbell implored, flying circles impatiently around his head. America scrambled to get off the floor, pushing the chair out of the way and stumbling as fast as he could towards the door.

"Al?" Canada asked, confused. "What's wrong?"

"Dad! Fairies! Gotta help! BRB!" America yelled in short, staccato fashion before he finally made his way out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

There was a moment of quiet when everyone looked at each other, not quite sure what to say.

It was France who finally broke the silence. "Now there are two crazy ones in the family… merde."

America ran up to England's hotel door, wiggling the doorknob frantically for a second before he realized it was locked. Worried and impatient, he decided to throw common sense to the wind and snapped the knob straight off, pushing the door open. There was England, lying on his bed with the covers pulled straight up to his chin. Sweat was running down his forehead, and his nose and eyes were red. Charlie was next to him with his head resting worriedly on his lap, and Flying Mint Bunny was cuddled up next to his head.

"Artie!" America said worriedly, sitting down on the bed next to him and immediately putting a hand on his forehead; he was burning up! "Artie, what the heck!? You told me it was just a cold!"

England opened his eyes to look at his former colony. "Alfred? What are you…" His eyes found Tinkerbell, hovering in the air next to America. "Oh. How did you get him here?"

"She came up to me in the meeting and told me you needed my help, but that's not the point! You need to tell me when something's wrong with you, dude!"

England rolled his eyes. "Like I said, it's just a cold. It's not even that ba- wait." He cut himself off and sat up slowly in the bed, before casting a glare at America. Then at Tinkerbell. Then back to America. "How… you… you can see her?"

America took a second to process what had just happened. "Holy- I can see fairies!" He shouted, causing England to cringe from the noise. "Sorry, sorry! It's just… wow! I can see you!" He grinned at Tinkerbell. "And you! And you!" He said, looking at Charlie and Flying Mint Bunny. "God, I missed you guys!"

England smiled weakly. "Well, it's about time." He said, lying himself back down. "Now, would you kindly tell that dragon to remove himself from my window, as he's making it very hot in here."

America looked at the window, confused. He didn't see anything, though! "Why can't I see that one?" He wondered aloud.

"Oh, that one he's hallucinating." Tinkerbell said. "Yes Arthur, don't worry! We'll tell the dragon to go away!"

"Good, good." England said tiredly, before closing his eyes and falling almost immediately asleep. America stood from the bed as carefully as he could, trying not to wake the Brit. He then fetched a wet towel to place on England's forehead, and sat down on the floor next to the bed. He was too worried to leave just yet.

When England woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his forehead was pleasantly cool. The next was that Charlie had seemingly left his side. And the third was that someone was snoring. He looked to the left of the bed to find America sitting on the ground, his mouth open in a loud snore. Charlie, his beloved unicorn, was curled up contentedly in his lap. England smiled. "Traitor." He muttered fondly, before going back to sleep himself.

America woke up with a sore back, and a weight on his lap. He blinked groggily, trying to recall the previous day's events. And why exactly he was on the floor. Lessee… England… sick… fairies. That was pretty much it.

Wait a minute; fairies? Fairies! He looked down to see Charlie curled up in his lap. He smiled. This was so cool! Canada was gonna be so surprised when he found out these things were real! He poked the unicorn curiously in the side, stirring him a bit but not waking him up. Huh… it was a lot squishier than you'd expect. The unicorns he always saw in movies and stuff seemed to be just like regular sized horses, all powerful muscles and majestic manes. This one was more like a fat pony.

Aw, whatever. He was still adorable. He heard a small shuffling noise from above, and was suddenly reminded of the nation on the bed behind him. "Alfred?" England said groggily, the towel falling off his forehead as he sat up groggily in the bed. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah, I'm awake." America confirmed. "Your buddy's still sound asleep, though."

England chuckled. "He likes to have someone to cuddle with. Goodness knows why he chose you."

"Hey! I happen to be an excellent cuddler!" America protested jokingly. There was a moment of silence as both nations tried to figure out what to say next. "Hey, um, Artie?" America finally said. "I'm sorry for thinking you were crazy."

England sighed. "No no, it's nothing I'm not used to." He said. America frowned; somehow that didn't make him feel any better. "The others used to see them, you know." England continued. "Almost all of the older nations did. And they all had their own special friends, too. But then… one by one they all stopped believing."

"Aren't there any others who still see them?" America asked.

"There are. I know for a fact Iceland still talks to his elves. And then there's Ireland and his sidhe."

"Oh, yeah." America winced. "I called him up earlier and got an earful about them."

"Nasty little creatures." England scowled. "Don't you ever get involved with them." He sighed, looking off into the distance. "I suppose the biggest difference between I and the others is that they've always seemed content with nobody else knowing about their friends. Or, not-so-friendly acquaintances, in Ireland's case. Me though… it always bothered me that no one else believed."

"Hey, you've got me, though!" America said cheerfully.

"Yes, I suppose I do." England smiled. "How did you… I mean, I know you used to play with them all the time, but what got you believing again?" He asked.

"Your book, actually." America replied. "It um… brought up some memories. Sorry, by the way." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I was kind of a jackass."

England laughed. "I won't argue with that." America was about to protest, but he interrupted quickly. "So, how much can you remember?" He asked.

"Eh, not much? I mean, it took me a while to remember who Tinkerbell over there was."

"It'll come back to you, don't worry." England reassured him. "Perhaps someday you'll find your own special friends?" America just smiled. That sounded nice, but… for now he'd just love to catch up with these guys.

"Are you feeling better?" The Brit looked to his left to find Tinkerbell sitting on his shoulder, swinging her legs.

"Much, thank you." He replied. "I still don't know why you had to bring him, though." He jabbed his thumb in America's direction.

"You said you wanted him!"

"I- what!?"

"You kept saying you missed him!" Tinkerbell insisted.

"I- I was sick! You know not to trust me when I'm sick, I lose all coherency!"

"Um… Artie, you're turning red again, do you need another wet cloth?"

"I am fine, God-dammit!" England snapped. He heard an annoyed whinny, and looked down to see he had woken up his unicorn friend. "Oh, Charlie, I'm so sorry!" He apologized, leaning as far out of the bed as he could so he could pet him behind the ear. "I was just yelling at Alfred, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Hey, no apology for yelling at Alfred?" America said indignantly.

England rolled his eyes; he was too tired to argue. He glanced over at the clock on his bedstand. "You should go." He said. "Meetings are soon, and if you don't start getting ready now you'll only be out of the shower by lunch."

"Aww, do I have to take a shower?" America whined. England simply raised one eyebrow, and America took the hint to lift his arm and take a whiff. "Whoof! Okay, yeah, I see your point." He stood up, his legs shaking in protest from the odd sleeping position. "Just… send a friend if you need anything, okay?"

"I will." England reassured him. America headed toward the door, stopping when he saw the hole where the knob should have been. He would have to pay for that later…

He swung the door open, doing his best to shut it behind him, and was going to head straight for his room when he crashed into someone else walking in the opposite direction. "Oh, man, I'm sorry!" He said frantically, looking to see who it was. Huh… he looked just like him! Only, he was taller. And he was wearing a read pullover instead of an awesome bomber. And he had this one really long curl in his hair. And…

Oh. Bad brother, bad!

"Mattie! Hey! It's you!"

"Yeah, it's me." Canada replied, sounding a tad confused. "Al, I think we need to talk."

Uh oh. 'We need to talk' never meant anything good. Ever. Okay, play it cool, Jones. "What about?" America asked, keeping his tone as casual as he could.

"Are you okay?" Canada asked worriedly.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"It's just that… yesterday you had a lot of people worried. And then you just disappeared like that, and now nobody knows what to think!"

Canada was expecting America to tell him that he wasn't in his right mind the other day. He was expecting him to say that he'd eaten some bad burritos, or maybe even gotten hold of some of his brownies, God forbid. What happened next was much worse. A grin began to grow across America's face. "Oh, dude, that's right!" He said happily. "England's friends? Are totally real!"

Canada blinked. "They're… what?"

"They're real! I remembered last night, I used to see them when I was little, right? But then I got all old and weird and I was all 'nuh huh, fairies don't exist!' and Artie was all sad and I couldn't see them anymore, but now I totally believe and I can see them! Not just the fairies either, Charlie, and Flying Mint Bunny, and-"

"Alfred!" Canada put his hands on America's shoulders, looking at him worriedly.

"What?"

"You sound insane!"

America frowned. Nuh-uh, no way. Nobody calls the United States of America insane and gets away with it! "No, I swear it's true!" He said. "You were fine with this a couple days ago, what's your deal?"

"I didn't think you'd actually- I just- this is all way too real now, you can't really tell me you think…." Canada trailed off, frowning when he looked behind his brother. "What happened to Arthur's doorknob?" He wondered aloud. He raised one eyebrow. "What were you doing in Arthur's room?" He went to open the door. Inside, all he saw was England, peacefully sleeping in his bed with a cloth on his forehead. "Ohh… he was sick? Why didn't he tell anyone?"

"Yeah, that's where I was yesterday. I was taking care of him!" America explained. Suddenly, something occurred to him. "Oh! Oh yeah, didya see 'em?"

"Did I… see what?"

"His friends! Our friends, I guess, maybe… I hope so, anyway… but yeah, didya see em?"

"Al." Canada said slowly. "What were you expecting me to see?

"Oh, well there's Charlie, who's a little blue unicorn, and then there's Tinkerbell, who's a fairy, and there's also Flying Mint Bunny in there, who is pretty much what he sounds like."

Canada looked for a moment like he was going to say something, but decided against it. "How about you just get ready for the meeting?" He finally said.

"But you saw them, right?" America prodded.

"I, um… I think we should talk about this later, okay?" Canada said, starting to walk away. How could he… oh. Oh, America, you big idiot. Of course he couldn't see them, he didn't believe! Why would he? America hadn't at first! Well, he had at first, but not at second first!

That didn't make sense, did it?

"I'll see you at the meeting!" Canada called as he walked down the hall.

"You too, I guess…" America muttered under his breath. Damn, this sure put a damper on his happy! He'd had a whole happy-type thing going on there, and now it was dampered! Sighing, he turned and walked in the direction of his room. Because no matter what drama was going on, it didn't change that he really needed a shower.

As soon as America walked into the meeting, he could tell something was off. All eyes were on him the moment he stepped through, and not in the good way either. Everyone was looking at him… weirdly.

"Mattie? What is this?" America asked, looking around suspiciously at the nations.

"It's okay Al, just sit down. You're safe here, no one's going to judge you."

America blinked. Oh, hell naw! What was this, some kind of intervention? That's totally what it was! Was this about his hamburgers? Because if it was, he could tell them right away that he wouldn't be giving them up any time soon. Hamburgers were his life! HIS LIFE!

"America, please." Germany gestured to his usual seat beside Canada, and America grudgingly sat down. "Before we started the meeting, we just wanted to inquire after your…. strange behavior yesterday."

Oh, that was it? Well, he could just… but no. He couldn't just explain, could he? They'd never believe him, they couldn't see them! Just like Canada couldn't! Damn, this must be how England felt. Like, all the time. He couldn't help but find a new respect for the guy. "That?" He said, laughing nervously. "Oh, that. I just, um… I a-ate some bad burritos. Is all. Yup."

Okay, now he could feel holes being bored in his head. He turned to see Canada, glaring at him. "Really, Al?" He said. "Are you sure that's what happened? Because I could swear you told me-"

"I was joking!" America said quickly. "Can't a guy tell a little joke?" Everyone murmured among themselves, but seemed to generally accept the explanation. So far, so good.

"Where is England, anyway?" Germany asked. "He was missing yesterday, also."

"Perhaps he is with his imaginary friends?" France jibed. America cringed slightly.

"Yes, it would be good to have a talk with him as well." Germany muttered to himself.

"He's sick." America piped up. Everyone turned to him. "He's, um, in his hotel room with a fever."

"Alright then, I suppose if that's cleared up…" Germany looked unsure, but started the meeting anyway. America did his best to listen, he really did, but once again he found himself spacing right out. The German droned on in the background, sometimes joined by one of the other nations. Or interrupted by Italy. Or Prussia. It had gotten to be such a familiar routine, America would wager he'd be able to tell what the others would say before the words even left their mouths.

Wait a minute… now that sounded fun.

Okay, he thought to himself; Prussia's gonna start ranting about how awesome he is.

"Are you kidding?" Prussia shouted. "The awesome Prussia is too awesome for all this boring crap!"

Now Germany is going to tell Prussia to get out.

"If you don't like it, leave!" Germany snapped. "You aren't even a nation anymore, there's no reason for you to be here!"

"How dare you say that? The awesome Prussia is as much a nation as any of you here!"

Either Austria or Romano will make some sarcastic comment.

"You mean east Germany?" Romano muttered.

"Oh, that's it!" Prussia rolled up his sleeve in a show of exaggerated machismo, stepping over the table to give Romano a piece of his mind.

Spain will step in to protect his boyfriend.

"No, my little Lovino!" Spain cried, throwing himself dramatically in front of the Italian nation.

Aaaand Romano will start cursing Spain out.

"What did you just call me, tomato bastard!?" Romano said indignantly, ignoring Spain's heroic attempts. "I am not fucking little!"

So… yeah. Pretty much normal. America leaned back in his chair as he watched. Any second now he'd be expected to jump in shouting something about superheroes. Or hamburgers. Or- wait, what was that?

He felt a tickling at his ear. Turning to his right, he was delighted to see the fairy in the little yellow dress, smiling at him. "Hey, Tink!" He said happily. "What're you doing here?"

And suddenly, all eyes were on him.

"Ve, Alfred, who are you talking to?" Italy asked.

"Er, I-"

"I knew it! He's gone insane, just like l'Angleterre!"

"Is he talking to the air? Ugh, imaginary friends are, like, so last year."

Everyone murmured and pointed as America sunk further in his chair. "N-no! No, guys, you got it all wrong! I was just, um… I was daydreaming!" He explained frantically. "I was daydreaming, totally not paying attention, and I didn't realize I was talking out loud! Funny when that happens, right?" He laughed nervously.

"Yes, well." Germany said, looking dubious but hopefully buying it. "Try to pay more attention in the future?"

"Um, yeah, sure! Got it!" America said, fake cheer plastered on his face. Damn, this whole fairies thing was proving harder than he'd thought it would be. Germany started talking again, and America went back to pretending to listen. Meanwhile, Tinkerbell sat on the desk in front of him, smiling reassuringly. He couldn't help but smile back. He hoped they'd get the time to talk sometime soon. After all, they had a couple hundred years to catch up on!

About halfway through the meeting, he looked down to see the fairy frantically pointing at something. Confused, he looked in the direction she was gesturing, and his jaw fell open.

There, in the window, was a dragon. A big, green, western dragon, flying straight by them, and craning its neck to look as it went. And America could swear that, as it passed, it winked at him.

"Alfred?" Canada asked.

America turned back around, quickly wiping the shocked expression off his face. "Er, yeah?"

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." America breathed, slowly forcing his attention back to the meeting. Damn… this was going to be hard.

As soon as the meeting was over, America high-tailed it back to England's room. "Yo, you awake?" He said cheerily, swinging open the busted door and leaving Tinkerbell, who had come in with him, to push it closed the best she could. England was still in his bed, though he was sitting up on the headboard now. Charlie was sitting happily in his lap as his mane was stroked, while Flying Mint Bunny was sitting on top of Charlie.

"If I wasn't before, that would do it." England grumbled.

"Haha, sorry, man!" America rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "But hey, I brought my notes from the meeting!" He plopped down the stack of notes on the bedside table.

"You took notes?" England said, one eyebrow raised. "Really?"

"Okay, okay, so I bothered Kiku for his. Same dif!" He plopped down on the bed beside England, and Flying Mint Bunny immediately hopped up off of Charlie and flew into his lap. "Hey, little dude!" America said delightedly.

"Hi!" Flying Mint Bunny replied, squeaking happily when America began scratching him behind the ear.

England laughed. "So," He asked. "How was the meeting?"

America groaned dramatically. "Oh my God it was horrible!" He said. "Okay, so I walk in and everyone's all on my case, right? Like they think I'm crazy or something! So I finally get to sit down, and Tink comes in, and I try to talk to her in the middle of the meeting and everyone starts looking at me again and asking if I'm alright and stuff and I have to make up some shit about daydreaming. And then, you'll never believe this; a dragon flew by the window! Though, that part was pretty cool…"

"Ah, yes, I've seen her around…" England muttered. "But yes, that is an unfortunate side-effect of seeing the things we see. Most mundane people will generally think we're lunatics if we don't keep it low-key."

"Mundane?" America asked. "Sounds kinda mean, dontcha think?"

England shrugged. "Would you rather I call them muggles?"

They both had a good laugh at that. "So, Artie?" America asked.

"Hm?"

"How did you meet these guys?" He said, gesturing around at England's friends. "I mean, I know you told me you've always seen them, but these guys in particular?"

"He met us 'cause none of us had anyone else to be with." Flying Mint Bunny chimed in.

America frowned. "No friends?" Flying Mint Bunny shook his head no. "Family?" America tried again, but got the same answer.

"I'm afraid it's true." England sighed. "Tinkerbell here lost her parents when she was very young. Charlie was abandoned as the runt of the litter, and Flying Mint Bunny… well, his species was rare back then. We're pretty sure he's the only one now." All three creatures grew downcast, and America suddenly regretted the question. "And me, well… I was always called the black sheep of Europe. I suppose it was only natural that the outcasts found the outcasts."

"Aw man… dude, that's just sad!" America exclaimed.

"Well, I suppose that's as eloquent of a response as we're going to get…"

America was about to protest, when there was a knocking at the door. They both looked over as the door swung open, being as there wasn't a knob anymore to stop it, and revealed Canada standing there. "Oh, maple… I'm sorry, I just wanted to check on…" He trailed off, staring at the two of them. America realized then that all Canada could see was him, sitting on the bed and stroking the air, and England, doing the same with some invisible creature in his lap. Hoo, boy. "Um… I'll just…"Canada began to edge away.

"Wait!" America shouted as his brother turned to leave. He stood up quickly, dislodging Flying Mint Bunny and leaving him to hover in the air. "Mattie, dude! Stay awhile!" The northern nation looked at him, unconvinced. "Please?"

Canada sighed. "Fine." He finally said. "I came to check on Arthur anyway… I suppose I shouldn't leave until I have, eh?" He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "So… um… how are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm doing fine." England waved a hand dismissively. "I'll be up and running by tomorrow, don't you worry. Alfred was even kind enough to bring me his notes from the meeting." He patted the stack next to him.

Canada raised an eyebrow. "Notes? Al, I didn't see you taking any notes."

"Maybe I just did it in secret, didya ever think of that? Like a note-taking ninja!"

"So, Kiku, then?"

There was a brief pause. "Yeah, Kiku…"

Canada chuckled, before going to sit down on the bed next to England. "You should have told me you were sick!" He chided. "Everyone worried when you didn't show up, you know."

"I'm sorry, my boy! I had a cough the other day, but I didn't know it would get this bad. Like I told you, though, I'm getting better."

America leaned in the corner and watched as they talked. He was a bit startled, though, when he heard a familiar high-pitched voice coming from his left; "Why did you kick me off?"

He turned to see Flying Mint Bunny, hovering in the air beside him. "Aw, I'm sorry little dude!" He said affectionately, reaching out to rub him behind the door. "I shouldn'ta pushed you around like that!"

"Alfred? Who are you talking to?"

America looked over to the bed to find Canada staring at him. Dammit, he really needed to get used to this whole normal people vs. see-y people thing! "Um… I was just talking to-"

"The air, Alfred!" Canada stood from the bed, his voice rising from its usual whisper to an actual, normal talking-volume. Well now he knew he was serious. "You were talking to the air! You've just gone crazy, haven't you!"

America flinched. "Mattie, dude, let's not say things we don't mean!"

"I mean it!" Canada said. "It's insane! Both of you, you're just- talking about fairies, having conversations with the air, it scares me! It used to just be this quiet little quirk of Arthurs, but then here you come along, rubbing it in everyone's face and making some big show out of it, and I'm scared!"

America looked at his brother, part in hurt, part in disbelief. "Come on, Mattie." He said. "You had to have seen them at some point! Wasn't there ever a time, when you were really, super little? Ever? Maybe when you were living with Arthur and me, or-"

"No!" Canada practically shouted. "It was just my imagination, it-" He stopped himself mid-sentence. "I have to go."

"Wait, Mattie, don't!"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Alfred." Canada left as quickly as he could, closing the door behind him.

"That… was probably a bad idea." England said.

America groaned as he slid down the wall and onto the floor, Flying Mint Bunny taking up residence in his lap as soon as he could. "No kidding… I don't get it, though, why'd he have to get so riled up?"

"When confronted with the unknown, the response of most people is to violently deny." England commented. "People who can't see shouldn't be pushed too far, Alfred. You won't make Matthew believe by yelling at him."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right…" America sighed. "But still… it's kinda shitty when people think you're nuts."

England scoffed. "You're telling me."

Canada sat in his car, hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles looked white. He couldn't believe it… at first he'd thought it was just another weird little kick of his brothers. He'd thought that at worst he'd find nothing and possibly piss England off, or at best China or one of the other nations would magically cure England of his… whatever it was. But now America was seeing these things too? How many people could hallucinate the same thing at once?

He got to his home as soon as he could, looking to raid his fridge for brownies. He rolled his eyes when he saw that one of the others (probably Prussia) had stolen the rest off the plate before he left. Just as well, anyway; Canada had a feeling he probably didn't want to let himself near anything like that in the mood he was in.

Really, he supposed he could have handled that better… but something about seeing America and England like that gave him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Like it was just wrong somehow. But he couldn't put his finger on why.

Later that night, he climbed under the covers, lifting the blanket for Kumajirou to climb in with him. Cuddled up with his bear and his maple-print jammies, he managed to stop himself worrying long enough to fall asleep.

"Hello?" Canada called into the bushes. "Hello?" He could have sworn he saw someone in there… he looked at his and France's house, then back to the bushes. Back to the house. Back to the bushes. Was it worth going away without his Papa's permission? Yes, it was only a couple of feet from the house, but his Papa had told him never to wander away without telling him! But he was so curious… he squared his shoulders and puffed up his chest, taking that first, danger-filled step into the wilderness.

…And promptly tripped over his gown and fell on his face. Danger-filled, indeed.

Tears began to brim over his eyes, and he sniffled loudly as he tried to pick himself up. So much for bravery… "Oh dear, are you okay?" Canada startled at the voice, looking up to see who had spoken. There, in the air before him, was a little girl, about the size of his Papa's hand. She had long, brown hair, a dress that looked like a trumpet flower, and a pair of beautiful, orange wings!

His tears forgotten, Canada smiled as he shifted so that he was sitting on the ground, looking up at the girl. "Are you a fairy?" He asked.

She nodded. "My name is Giselle!" She said happily.

"I-I'm Matthieu." Canada replied.

"Hi, Matthieu! Do you wanna play with me?"

Canada thought on this. "What would we play?"

"How about tag?"

"But… you can fly…" Canada pointed out.

"Oh yeah… well… how about catch?" She picked up an acorn from the ground and lobbed it at the little boy, who caught it inches before it hit his face and fell over backwards in his surprise. There was a moment of silence before they both burst out into laughter.

"W-warn me next time, okay?" Canada asked.

The two played and laughed together for a good long time, until, to Canada's dismay, he heard his Papa calling. "Matthieu!" France called. "Matthieu, where are you? It is time for dinner!"

"Coming, Papa!" Canada called. "Can I see you again?" He asked Giselle.

"Of course! I like playing with you!" Giselle agreed.

Canada smiled, then ran off back to the house. "Papa!" He said happily, crashing out of the bushes and into France's arms.

"Ah, there you are mon petit Matthieu!" France said, wrapping his arms around the littler nation. "But what were you doing out there? You know I told you not to leave the yard without telling me first!" It wasn't that he didn't trust Canada, but he did worry; after all, though he was sensible he was really quite fragile.

"I'm sorry Papa, but you'll never believe what happened! I met a fairy!" France froze, and Canada looked at him curiously. "Papa? Is something wrong?"

"Matthieu, you know fairies aren't real, right?" France said, crouching down so he was eye-level with his son.

Canada tilted his head, confused. "But Papa, I saw-"

"You were just imagining it." France said. "And it is lovely for you to have a good imagination, but you must remember that none of it is real. Okay?"

Canada's face saddened. But… but of course Giselle was real! He had seen her, and played with her, and she even let him touch her wing! He could still remember how strong it felt, not at all how he'd imagined… so how could he have come up with that? All the same, this was his Papa. And his Papa was always right. "Yes, Papa…" He said, looking down at his feet.

"Very good. Now then, come in for dinner. I'm making your favorite for dessert!"

"Crepes?" Canada said, his face lighting up.

"Yes, crepes!" France scooped the giggling child up in his arms and walked him into the house.

Canada ran giggling through the yard, sneaking glances behind him every once in a while to see if the fairy was still counting. After a long debate of what to do, they had settled on a game of hide and seek. And if he wasn't the world's best hider, his name wasn't Matthieu Bonnefois!

…Though, honestly that wasn't always a good thing.

He scanned the yard for hiding places as he ran. In the flowers? Behind the bench? He could hide under the house if he wasn't so scared… he was so engrossed in the game that, when he suddenly ran into something solid, it came as a complete surprise.

His eyes began to water as he sat on the ground. "Oh, Matthieu!" A pair of strong arms lifted him and held him comfortingly. "I'm sorry mon cher, but where were you going in such a hurry?"

Canada opened his scrunched-up eyes to see France looking worriedly at him. "I w-was playing hide and seek with G-Giselle, and-"

"Giselle?" France asked curiously.

"My f-fairy friend." Canada explained.

"Matthieu, I've told you before!" France said firmly, his voice losing the comforting tone it had held before. "Fairies do not exist!"

"But Papa-"

"No buts!" Canada froze at his father's harsh tone. "I will not have you turn out like him!" Canada's eyes began to fill with tears again, and France sighed, stroking his back comfortingly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He apologized. "Just… promise me you'll stop with this fairy business?" Canada just nodded, his face still buried in France's chest. If his Papa wanted him to, he would.

Canada woke up one day, with the sun shining like always, the birds chirping happily, and his beloved bear snuggled up next to him. Everything was as it should be. Everything was perfect.

So then… why did it feel like he was missing something? Something important…

He got out of his bed and got dressed, heading downstairs to find his Papa making breakfast.

"Ah! Bonjour, Matthieu!" France said happily as his son came into the room. "Did you sleep well?"

Canada nodded. "Papa?" He said questioningly.

"What is it?"

"Do you ever feel like you've forgotten something?"

"Oh, all the time." France said, setting their breakfasts down on the table.

"What if it's important?"

"Well, mon cher." France picked Canada up off the ground, plopping him down in his chair and kissing the top of his head. "If it's important, I'm sure you'll remember it soon."

Canada woke from his dream with tears streaming down his face. He sobbed quietly, burying his face in his hands as Kumajirou worriedly nuzzled at his side.

He… he had some things to take care of, didn't he?

The next day, Canada sat down at the meeting to find England sitting where he always was, looking a bit tired but nonetheless ready for action once more. America was there as well, and Canada pretended to ignore the looks they both gave him as he sat down. They looked almost… pitying. Somehow it was even worse than if they had been angry at him.

He got the feeling that they were in some secret club he wasn't allowed in. The entire meeting he would catch them throwing glances at each other; small smiles or discreet little winks that told the other, 'we know something they don't'. It was aggravating.

Once the meeting was over, America and England left together, something it was impossible for no one to notice.

"Since when are they so friendly?" Spain commented curiously.

Canada heard France scoff. "Haven't you heard? It seems Alfred has slipped off into whatever insane little magical world Arthur's been living in." He grinned slyly as he mimed smoking something between two fingers.

Canada rolled his eyes in disgust before leaving the room. Okay, so he couldn't exactly bring himself to believe quite yet… but something about his Papa's actions still made him mad. He walked purposefully through the halls, searching for England's room. He found it easily, seeing as the missing knob made it pretty distinctive. He knocked on the door, finding it a lot more solid than it had been before.

"Yeah?" The door opened to reveal England standing there. Oh; of course they were hanging out together. "Matthew!" He looked surprised to see him, but also a little wary. Probably afraid he was going to start shouting at him. "Um, hello there."

"Yeah, hey…" Canada started. "C-can I come in?"

"Oh, of course!" England opened the door wider, stepping aside so that he could step into the room. As soon as he did, Canada saw America sitting cross-legged on the bed; of course they were hanging out together.

"Hey, Mattie!" America said cheerfully. Canada couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey yourself. Um, the door, is…" Canada trailed off, gesturing behind him to the door. He did want to know why it hadn't swung right open as soon as he knocked...

"Ah, yes." England knew exactly what he meant. "Duct tape."

"I see…" For a moment, everyone just stood awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. "Where are they?" Canada finally blurted out.

England blinked. "What?" He said, confused.

"I, I mean…" Canada fiddled nervously with his hands. "Y-your friends. I can't see them, so… could you tell me, wh-where they are?"

Both of the others looked at him, surprised. "You really want to know?" England asked.

"Yes, please."

"Well… Tinkerbell is sitting on my shoulder." He pointed to his left shoulder, where Canada could see nothing. "Flying Mint Bunny is curled up in Alfred's lap," He pointed to America, who had begun absentmindedly petting some invisible creature in his lap. "And Charlie is the ground beside you."

Canada looked to the ground where England was pointing. Once again, he couldn't see anything. Everything in him was screaming that this was ridiculous. But some small part of him still insisted that there was something there, whether he could see it or not. "Who's Charlie?" He asked.

"He's the unicorn I was talking about." America offered helpfully.

Canada nodded, then knelt on the ground, reaching a hand tentatively outward. "Can I?" He asked. England said nothing, just took his wrist and gently guided his hand toward where the unicorn supposedly was.

And suddenly, his hand hit something solid.

Canada blinked, and there it was; a small, pudgy blue unicorn underneath his hand, soft and fuzzy and looking at him with big eyes. He threw his arms around the creature, who luckily didn't seem to mind, and just nuzzled softly into the Canadian's neck as he was held.

"Wait, you can see him!?" America exclaimed. Canada nodded, his face still buried in the unicorn's fur.

"Sometimes all it takes is a little trust." England said, putting his hand gently on the Canadian's back.

"I'm so s-sorry Alfred, Arthur!" Canada said, lifting his head. "I just- I never thought- I-"

"Shh, it's alright, love." England knelt down, putting his arms around Canada. "I know."

"But wait, what made you come back anyway?" America asked.

Canada thought for a moment. Was he really ready to share the entire story with them? "I just… I had a dream that made me feel like I should give you guys a chance." He finally said.

"Musta been some dream."

"You could say that, yeah…" Canada turned to England. "I am so, so sorry I called you insane." He said, now that he'd gained some coherency. "I know how much that must have hurt…"

"Like I said, it's perfectly alright."

"Hey!" America protested. "What about me?"

"Oh, you're insane, just for different reasons." Canada pointed out.

America laughed. "You kinda got me there." He conceded. "So… what're we gonna do now?"

"What do you mean?" England asked.

"I mean, think about it; we've got a whole family of grown-ass men who can see fairies and unicorns and stuff. This is a set-up for a sitcom if I've ever seen one."

Canada put his finger on his chin. "We could play hide and seek?" He suggested.

"What the- where did that come from?" America asked.

"I dunno." Canada shrugged. "It just came to mind for some reason."

"Okay then… Flying Mint Bunny, you're seeker!"

"Okay!" Flying Mint Bunny said happily.

"Wait wait wait, I never agreed to this!" England said. Why everyone had suddenly decided to play this childish game was beyond him.

"Pleeeeease?" America said, flashing him the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could muster.

England tensed. He could resist, dammit! He was strong! He was willful! He was-

Oh, who was he kidding; he was playing hide and seek.

About five minutes later, Prussia was walking through the halls of the hotel when he heard a shuffling noise behind a potted plant. Frowning, he walked over and looked behind it to find Canada, huddled up behind the foliage.

"Oh! Hi, Gilbert!" He said, looking up and smiling like he was trying to hold back laughter.

"Birdie? What are you doing?" Prussia asked. This seemed like the kind of weird shit he would do, not Canada.

"Um… I'm actually not Canada, I'm a potted plant. You just think I'm Canada because you ate too many of his special brownies and you should probably give them back."

"Oh! Okay then, Herr Plant!" Prussia grinned, walking away and promptly hiding behind a corner. Okay, if Canada was desperate enough to pull something like that, he had to be hiding something juicy. He peeked his head out from behind the wall to watch whatever happened next.

There was nothing but stillness for about thirty seconds. And then, suddenly, Canada began to move. "Aw, you found me!" He said good-naturedly, standing up from behind the plant and talking… to… the air. What? "Did you find any of the others yet?" Silence. "Can I help, then? I know Al inside and out, I betcha I can find him in sixty seconds flat!" More silence. And Canada was off with… whoever the heck he was talking to.

Prussia snickered to himself. Who had eaten too many brownies again?