"Wow!" America exclaimed as they approached the banks of what he could only describe as the largest river he had ever seen, "Canada, this is AWESOME!"

"Yeah, it's pretty neat, eh?" his brother agreed, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Kind of a long walk, though," America yawned, taking a seat on a boulder, "I'm pooped,"

"…that means you're tired, right?" Canada asked as he took a seat next to him.

"Well yeah, what else would it mean?" America asked quizzically.

"Uh…never mind," Canada said, pointing out at the river, "Take a look at that! There are ships coming in!" he said excitedly.

"Whoa, they're huge!" America exclaimed, "Wonder where they're from?"

His brother stood up, squinting and putting a hand over his eyes to shield them from the light of the evening sun.

"They're British," he concluded, "Check out the flags,"

"Whoa, so those are England's, then," America deduced, standing up.

"Looks like it," Canada agreed, "Pretty neat,"

"Yeah, totally," America said, "He's got some neat stuff,"

"France does too, but I see your brother's ships more often," Canada said, frowning at him thoughtfully, "What's it like living with him, anyway?"

America shrugged, watching the ships' sails billow in the strong wind.

"He's nice," he reasoned, "But sometimes he can be kind of a grump,"

Canada laughed, stretching his arms and tilting his face into the breeze.

"Yeah, France is kind of like that, too," he said with a shrug, "But he's okay, I guess,"

"Yeah," America agreed half-heartedly. The two of them fell into silence as they watched the ships pass, content to just sit beside one another for a time.

"Hey, you wanna go swimming?" Canada suggested.

"Sure!" America agreed, joining his brother in dashing over to the edge of the cliff they were perched on, "How do we get down?"

"I know the way—come on!" Canada offered, motioning for America to follow.

"Do you think he actually has the scent?" England asked uncertainly as Canada's pet led them through yet another thick bramble patch. England grunted as his sleeve became entangled, ripping it free with the sickening tearing of fabric. So much for his favorite coat.

"Definitely," France reassured him, "We'll find them in no time,"

"This is farther out than I'd expected," England added, frowning.

"I suspect they're headed for the St. Lawrence, if they went out this way," France deduced. England's stomach plummeted.

"America can't swim," he blurted worriedly. God, if anything happened to him—

"We'll get there in time, Arthur," France said sternly, "We're nearly there—can't you hear the water?"

England strained his ear, and sure enough, the sound of rushing water met his ears. Very powerful, swiftly rushing water. He prayed they made it in time.

"Boy, it's a long way down!" America observed as he followed Canada along the craggy rocks toward the water.

"Yeah, it's kind of a long walk," Canada said as he deftly climbed across the stones, "But there's a place up ahead where we can take a break,"

"Okay!" America called as he followed him. After a while, they found themselves on a ledge above the river and dangled their legs over it.

"Wow, that's a lot of water," America stated, watching the churning rapids below them.

"Yeah, France says all of this water goes out into the ocean," Canada said astutely.

"Huh," America said, leaning back on his elbows and looking into the evening sky, "It's pretty out here, bro. Thanks for showing me,"

"S-sure!" Canada squeaked, "It's nice to spend time with somebody besides France,"

"Yeah, I'd imagine so," America laughed.

He looked up as a very familiar voice caught his ears.

"AMERICA! CANADA!"

And then a not-so-familiar French one.

"AMERICA! CANADA! MATHIEU!"

"Uh-oh," Canada mumbled, "I think we're in trouble,"

America groaned, lying back onto the ledge in defeat.

"Yeah…" he mumbled, "Guess we'd better get back up there, huh?"

His brother nodded as he got to his feet.

The bear practically knocked Canada off the cliff in his haste.

"Oh! Hey, you!" Canada greeted happily as the bear began trying to tear open the pocket of his jacket, "Slow down: here," he said as he retrieved a biscuit from his pocket and handed it to the bear. The creature began happily devouring the treat as he plopped onto the ground.

"MATHIEU!" France bellowed from the ledge above him. Canada squeaked, jumping.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"Get up here: now," his older brother commanded in French. Canada sighed, slumping his shoulders and dragging his feet.

"ALFRED: COME HERE," England demanded from where he stood next to a very angry France, arms folded across his chest.

"Ngh," America gulped as he flinched. He hadn't heard England yell like that in a long time, and when he had, it wasn't good. And he had used his person name…that definitely wasn't a good sign.

"Coming…" he said glumly as he followed his brother onto the cliff overlooking the river.

The older nations looked positively furious. France was tapping his foot on the ground impatiently, while England was glaring at America from beneath his furrowed eyebrows, arms crossed.

"What the devil were you two thinking?" England demanded, "We've been searching everywhere for you!"

"W-we're sor-!" America blurted.

"Sorry?" England repeated, stalking over to him and shaking his shoulder roughly, "Do you know how worried we've been? You two could have been KILLED," he elaborated. America looked at the ground in shame, his eyes starting to well up.

"Oui, we were beside ourselves with worry!" France interjected as he approached Canada, "What possessed you to wander all the way out here?" he demanded, "Mathieu: look at me," he commanded. Hesitantly, Canada peered up at him.

"W-we were just exploring," he blurted.

"Exploring?" France repeated with a frown, "All the way out here? You KNOW I've told you not to go near the river! It's dangerous!"

Canada averted his eyes, tears welling up in them.

"Hold on, it was my fault!" America piped up, causing France and England to look at him angrily. He gulped and stole an anxious look at Canada, who grimaced.

"Go on," England hissed through gritted teeth.

"I said we should go on an adventure," he blurted, looking down at his feet, "not him. I'm sorry, Bro," he whispered, stealing another look at Canada.

"No, I'm the one who should have said no," Canada insisted, shaking his head and whispering as if the other two wouldn't hear them.

"But you did say no," America pointed out.

"Yeah, but I should have said 'no' louder," Canada squeaked.

"AHEM," France interjected, causing both younger nations to jump and look at him.

"Look, it doesn't matter who did what: the point is that the two of you are not supposed to go wandering off on your own. You both know that. And yet, you disobeyed us. Both of you," England lectured, green eyes sharp and unforgiving.

"We feared that the two of you could have drowned," France added.

"W-we didn't go in," Canada piped up.

"But you were about to, were you not?" France deduced, cocking an eyebrow at him. Canada hung his head, whispering a barely audible "yes."

"You can't SWIM, Alfred," England pointed out, "You could have DIED,"

America was stunned into silence at that remark as a stray tear rolled down his face.

"What if you two couldn't have found your way home?" England continued, "If you had gotten lost, God knows what would have happened to you!"

"B-but we've got a compass," America pointed out. He immediately wished he hadn't, as both older nations went silent and looked at one another. Crap.

"Sacre bleu," France sighed, clapping a hand to his forehead, "Mathieu, that wasn't why I taught you how to make one, you know, so you could disobey me and hurt yourself,"

"I-I know," Canada whispered, "I'm sorry,"

There were a few more minutes of very tense silence. Finally, England sighed.

"All right, boys," he said, kneeling down so he was at eye-level with his little brother and Canada, "I trust the two of you understand the severity of what you've done? Of how you could have gotten hurt, and that is the reason why we're cross with you?"

Two blonde heads bobbed in understanding.

"Promise us you won't do this again," France stated, kneeling to face Canada.

"We promise," the two boys said quietly, rubbing the tears from their faces.

"All right," England said, reaching out and enveloping both of them in a hug, "We're just glad that you're both safe, right, France?" he asked, standing and allowing France to hug the two boys.

"Oui," France responded, kissing both boys on each cheek before rising. He looked out at the evening sun, turning orange over the mighty river.

"Well? Think we have time to make it back before dark?" England asked.

"We should make it back a little after dark, but it should be all right, if we hurry," France reasoned, kneeling and gesturing for Canada to get on his back, "Hop on, Mathieu," he said.

"You too, Alfred," England said, mirroring his brother's motion and allowing America to climb onto his back. "Ready?"

"Let's go," France said.

By the time they had arrived back at Canada's cabin, it was well past dark. Thankfully, England noted, they hadn't run into any hostile woodland creatures along the way, though he had heard a coyote barking in the distance. He followed France, who was carrying a sleeping Canada, through the doorway and up the steps. Canada stirred as France removed his shoes and jacket, but quickly drifted back to sleep as France said something soothing in his native tongue. France then gently tucked him under the covers of his bed. England dislodged America's arms from around his neck and plucked off his shoes and coat. The boy was out cold, and he was a heavy sleeper. England set him in bed next to his brother and pulled the covers over the two of them. He and France grinned tiredly at each other before quietly leaving the room and closing the door behind them.

"Whew," England sighed as he plunked down on the sofa in the living room. France did likewise next to him, retrieving his abandoned glass of wine and taking a swig. England took a drink of his wine as well, feeling the warmth of the alcohol seep through him. He shivered; it was chilly once the sun went down.

"Those two are a lot to handle," France sighed tiredly as he leaned back on the couch.

"Yeah, can't take your eyes off them for an instant," England yawned in agreement, leaning back onto the back of the couch too, "Good thing we got there when we did,"

"Mmm," France agreed with a nod, "That could have been terrible,"

England sighed, downing the remainder of his wine and setting the glass on the table. He leaned backwards again, resting his head against the back of the couch.

"I don't want to think about it," he mumbled as he closed his eyes, "Thanks for helping find them, by the way," he added, "Couldn't have done it without that bear,"

France chuckled.

"Oui, that stupid bear," France laughed, "And here I was telling Mathieu not even two days ago that it had no place being in the house. He threw a tantrum over it, so I gave up,"

"Good thing he disagreed," England said with a grin.

"And, about earlier-" France started.

"Forget it," England yawned, "it's done,"

There was silence for a while, replaced with soft snoring as England fell asleep.

America awoke the next morning, not entirely sure of where he was. Last thing he remembered, he was in the woods with England and France and…

He looked to his right as something stirred. His brother was next to him, half-asleep.

"Hmm…?" Canada mumbled, cracking open a violet-colored eye and blinking up at America.

"Hi," America said, rubbing his eyes, "Where are we?" he asked, sitting up.

"We're in my room," Canada answered sleepily as he sat up too.

"Whoa, did we just have a sleepover?" America asked excitedly.

"I…think so," Canada agreed as a smile crept across his face.

"Awesome!" America exclaimed gleefully as he leapt out of bed. A snarling sound caught his attention; he had dislodged Canada's bear thing at the foot of the bed in his haste.

"Sorry," he mumbled; the bear glared at him before curling up and going back to sleep. Canada crept out of bed, scratching his head and stretching.

"So, what do we do now?" Canada asked excitedly, "I've never had a sleepover before,"

"Yeah, me either—well, unless you count England," America said, frowning, "Let's go downstairs and see if France and England will make us breakfast!"

"Okay!" Canada chimed happily as he followed his brother into the hallway. They bounded down the steps and skipped the past few stairs, landing with thuds onto the floor below.

"Where are they?" America asked, "They gotta be around here somewhere,"

"Maybe in the living room?" Canada suggested, "Follow me,"

They jogged into the living room, ready to demand pancakes, but stopped at what they saw. England and France were both asleep on the couch, barbs and twigs strewn in their hair and clothes from the trek the night before. They hadn't even taken off their boots. England's head rested on France's shoulder, and France's chin rested on the top of England's head.

"Huh?" America blurted.

"Weird," Canada observed, "I thought they didn't like each other,"

"Me too," America mused, "Well…now what do we do?"

"I have toys in my room," Canada suggested, wiggling his eyebrows, "Wanna check them out?"

"Yeah!" America cheered, following his brother up the steps toward his bedroom.

France groggily opened his eyes, raising his head up and yawning. What a night.

He went to get up, but was stopped by a weight on his shoulder and arm. He looked down; England was leaning on him, fast asleep.

"Angleterre?" he whispered, but England didn't respond. France leaned forward, stealing a look at England's face. God, he was adorable when he was asleep. He mumbled something incoherent as France moved, then nuzzled his face back into France's shoulder. Strangely, he didn't wake. France sighed, leaning back onto the couch in defeat. He listened as the sound of two pairs of little feet pranced around upstairs.

Well, France reasoned with a yawn, there was little mischief the two of them could get into inside of the house. He supposed he could afford England a little more time to rest.

Overprotective bros for the win. Thanks for taking the time to read. :)