Sorry for taking over a month to update, but I've been busy prepping a short story for a writing competition. Though I couldn't leaving you guys hanging when this fanfic has over 130 followers, which is awesome!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetaila, or I wouldn't be looking at college loans and then hiding under my bed.

"They took away time, and they gave us the clock." -Abdullah Ibrahim

December 1943

"Dude?"

I felt the haze of sleep slipping away.

"Duuuude?" A finger lightly tapped against my forehead and my brown eyes gradually opened.

"Huh?" I blinked a couple of times until the blur of colors solidified to reveal America standing over me. "What is it?" I sounded garbled as I returned his confused gaze.

America shrugged casually though his eyes held a tinge of concern. "I tried calling you for dinner, but you didn't come, so I went looking for ya." America appeared bewildered, and the reason for his confusion became evident when I noticed I was sitting on the couch in the living room. The kitchen was merely a few feet away, meaning I should of easily heard him.

"I must of fell asleep." I muttered, pondering how I could of been in so deep of a slumber that I didn't hear America's voice (the equivalent of a man using a megaphone) just a room away.

America didn't notice my dilemma, probably attributing my puzzled frown to the expected disorientation when one has just woken up, and he continued cheerfully. "Well rise and shine, May! Or you're going to miss the awesomest dinner ever! And I bet you can't guess what it's going to be!" America held a song song tone as he teased me.

His taunt successfully distracted me, so I was quick to cross my arms and raise an eyebrow. "It's pizza with french fries on the side, isn't it?" I smirked while America's smile dropped away.

"B-But how did you know?!" America sputtered, clearly disappointed I had ruined the surprise.

"Because I have a sense of smell?" I answered with a "duh" connotation, but America knew I was joking when he gave me a light shove to the side.

"Alright wise-guy, I bet you can't guess what the desert is!" America huffed before spinning around and returning to the kitchen.

I paused to think for a few moments before I recalled what he always made on Friday night. "It's a sundae!" The disgruntled cry from the dinning room made me smile cockily to myself.

Gloating time! I pushed myself up and out of the couch.

"Owww." I hissed softly as my entire body protested the movement.

Man, I'm sore! When did this happen? It wasn't painful to walk over to the kitchen, but I couldn't help but wonder why my body ached like I was back in navy boot camp.

I didn't even do aikido today. I protested while rolling my shoulders. However, it didn't seem too worrying, and I assumed maybe I had just moved around in my sleep and bumped some of my bruises against the couch.

Yeah, it's probably that. The reason I hadn't been practicing aikido recently was because I had been a major clutz as of late. I kept missing the punching bag when I was so certain I was on route to hit it, causing me to overshoot and end up on the floor.

And not mention I've been so tired-

"Ha! You're wrong, dude!" I blinked as I walked into the dinning room, only to find a triumphant America sitting at the head of the table.

"Wrong?" I observed the pizzas and plates loaded with fries. "I see pizza and fries." I asserted, looking at the food that oddly enough made me salivate in anticipation (am I actually hungry?).

"Yeah, but there's no sundaes!" America crossed his arms in smug satisfaction, and I momentarily felt stunned to over being wrong until I noticed the chocolate crumbs smearing my nation's face.

"You almost got me." I took my seat with a cat's grace, so I was adjacent to a surprised America. "If only you didn't eat like a three year old."

"What?!" He whined, pouting at how I wasn't admiring defeat.

"You have crumbs from the sundaes all over your face." America immediately wiped his mouth with a napkin and noted the chocolate smear left on them.

"That's not from a sundae. I-I just ate some cookies!" He tried to sound convincing.

"First of all, that still means you eat like a three year old." America reached over to shove me again but I scooted my chair back in record time. "Second of all, I saw ice cream smudges on the cups in the sink."

"But I thought I hid them in the cupboard!" America looked truly stumped and I laughed, almost cackled.

"Omg, I didn't even see anything! But thanks for incriminating yourself." I chuckled and America blinked in confusion, probably not understanding my use of a "big" word. However, a second later he seemed to get the gist of what I said and pouted.

"You're no fun!" America cried out accusingly. Then to cope with his loser status, he grabbed an entire pepperoni pizza (comfort food) and munched on it like the eating machine he was.

"Save some for me, jeez." I managed to rip off a slice before he could claim it all. "Ya carnivore." I muttered, pulling the plate of fries closer to me before he could devour them too. I joined him in stuffing my face with high calorie food, but slowed when I noticed I had nothing to drink.

"Is the coffee made?" I asked America while he was on a rare reprieve from shoveling pizzas into his bottomless pit of a stomach.

"Ifff min the kifen."

"I think that might of been English."

America swallowed the half of the pizza he held in his mouth. "It's in the kitchen." He clarified for a second before snacking on the fries. I rolled my eyes as I got up and headed to the kitchen, my eyes zeroed in on the coffeemaker. I happily grabbed a cup and was about to tip over the jug of steaming liquid when I recalled something.

"Hey! Did you feed whale dude yet?" I called out behind me, jar frozen in my hand.

America didn't reply for a second, and I assumed he was thinking. "Aw, crap, not again." I could hear him deflate from the tone of his voice. "I hate going outside in the winter!" America cried out, probably pulling at his hair in despair.

"Don't worry," I reassured him as I returned to the dinning room. "I'll do it." I sighed, personally not ready for the cold either.

"Really?" America's eyes lit up at the idea of remaining in his warm home.

"Trust me, it can't be nearly as bad as winter storms of the 2010s." I muttered, turning around to exit the kitchen. I preceded to the front of the house and grabbed my old black coat and boots from the closet and then heading to the back hallway.

Fwwwshhhh! The wind howled violently against the back door, but like ripping off a band-aid, I quickly opened the door and stepped into the frost-covered outside to get it over with faster. I didn't bother shutting it since this would take a minute at most.

"Yo, whale dude! I got your dinner!" I announced during my approach towards the steamy pool.

Oooh, whale dude so has it made out here! I basked in the warmth of the steam while the small whale swam over to my side of the pool. He made a noise of greeting and his mouth opened in anticipation, similar to a puppy ready for his bone.

"Here you go!" I tipped over jug and watched all the liquid waterfall into his mouth, rationalizing he needed it more than I did. "It's a wonder you survived so long without me to feed you." I lowered myself to my haunches and gave his slick skin a pat.

And then I was falling backwards.

"Wha-" A gloved hand slapped over my mouth as I fell harshly onto my back. Instinctively, I sent a fierce double kick up to the figure above me.

"Ah! Dumme frau!" The cry in German caused my blood pressure spiked and I hurried leapt to my feet. Yet I saw only a flash of black uniform before he was springing towards me.

"Ameri-" The words died in my throat as I leapt to the side, only to stumble on my landing when I ended up on the uneven surface of a pile of water hoses. Fortunately, the German had fallen to the ground when he threw himself at air, but I still rushed to untangle myself.

Don't fight, escape! I kicked the hose off my foot and twisted towards the open door, but I was shoved forward and barely caught myself on my knees and hands. "

Get away! I swung around with my fist ahead of my body, yet the man avoided it by leaning back.

"Haulten!" He shouted, and as I took in his appearance, I was distracted enough for him to slam my head on the ground. The world went black as every bump on my head from my failed aikido practice decided to ache altogether, but I snapped my eyes open in time to the gloved hand reaching towards me.

Floooosh! A shot of water hit the German with enough strength to send him literary flying into the open door and as slammed back, the door banged against the house.

America had to...hear that... I blinked away the spots and tried to stand up, but I tipped over once I got on my knees.

Come on, May! I managed to roll back onto my knees at the edge of the pool while the German shakily got into a stand.

Now! I lurched to my feet, ignoring the ache and dizziness, an prepared to dash forward.

"FoundZzzyou there?" I halted against my will and the blue curtain fell over my eye.

"NowzzzimezZZzzyou gozzzZZZ" My knees gave out before I collapsed backwards and into the pool.

Footsteps stomped closer, but I was already drifting under.

A whirlpool leading me down in circles.

Tides slowing, but ocean is firm.

Endless blue, piercingly bright.

I'm drifting

drifting

gone

"...shhmm...tttay..."

The waves crashing block the rest.

Ears fill with water.

Ocean enters my veins, weighing me down.

I could, should fight.

"Ssstt...May..."

I don't.

"LetzzZin your mindzzzZz."

Ocean is me and I am ocean.

We share same blood, same blue blue veins.

"Rest."

Want to wake up, but waves are a cradle.

I sink down,

drowning happily

"Mmm...uussshh..." I was released by something I had already forgotten. All I knew was blue had faded to black, and now I was free.

Sleep... I'm tired. My whole body denied my resistance to sleep and the cloud of exhaustion was shrouding my weak hold on consciousness.

"Could you...take care..."

Who? What's happening? Every thought was slippery and forgotten as quickly as it came.

"Watch...me."

The words were solidifying, just as I lost my hold and darkness claimed me once more.

"I'm hoping...soon... Glad...you're home."

There was a warmth, soft and familiar upon my head and accompanied by a soft baritone registering as familiar. "Such a fool that one...never any care..." The voice sounded upset, which gave me all the more reason to fight the drowsiness. "I'm sure he'll be fine and so will you..."

I know them. I struggled even harder and my muscles strained to comply with my direction.

"-perhaps you'd like some of the muffins. You know America used to tell me they were the best."

Dad? I opened my eyes to mere silts as I peered into the blurry white walls. It quickly became apparent I was in a bedroom, lying under heavy covers, and as I turned my head, I found the source of the talking.

"I bet they still are, he has just gotten so damn prideful since then. That must be it! I'm not a bad cook, he just won't admit he likes my bakery-"

Green eyes met mine, and for a second, I was home.

"Why you're awake!" The prevalence of the accent is enough for me to know this wasn't my father, but at least it was a familiar face.

"Britain?" I coughed a couple times to clear up the dryness lining my throat. Then I leaned back into what I now recognized as my bed in America's house, which wasn't what I was expecting since Britain was here.

"Easy there, lad." Britain spoke softly while he rose from the chair stationed beside me. "You've been through quite the event." Britain's face looked oddly paler than normal, but I guess that could of been due to the low lighting in the room as the curtains were closed and only my lamp was on.

"Where is America?" I asked, greatly confused.

I wasn't captured or killed? But what happened to the Nazi? Why isn't America here? I felt odd, being so out of the loop.

"Before I answer that, could you tell me what you remember?" He inquired softly, as he eased me up to a sitting position and I tried not to snap out loud how I could get up myself. "I know the doctor said you should be fine, but I want to make certain." I could sense his worry as I collapsed against the headboard like limp ramen, the fact his hands twitched as if wanting to help me lay back down being a telling sign.

"I remember being in the middle of dinner when I realized whale dude needed his meal." I looked at Britain to grasp if he'd been told of this and saw him nod for me to go on, thus I did. "So I went outside and fed him, but then some Nazi attacked me. It's blurry, but I think I got really dizzy and fainted." My voice grew bitter with the last part, my pride wounded by the fact I fainted like some damsel in distress.

"That coincides with America's retelling." Britain rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"But what happened afterwards?" I questioned warily, on edge because I lacked so little information.

"Well, according to America, he heard your scuffle and went outside to check on you. There he found you in the pool upon of his whale." His eyes narrowed. "It appeared the whale was keeping you afloat while also assaulting the German with water from his blowhole."

"Whale dude came in with the work? For me?" I muttered in shock, causing Britain to stare at me quizzically until I waved him on.

"That scoundrel fled the second he saw America," Britain's eyes blazed an angry green, but he calmed as he went on. "He would of been pursued, however, America needed to attend to you." Britain's face held a deep frown as I processed this information.

How did a Nazi find America's house? Was he there to kill or capture? Why was he after me? I felt my head throb as the questions flew in.

And does this mean Germany knows about me? The throbbing grew worse.

"This can't be a coincidence." I spat out, sitting up straighter.

"Whatever do you mean?" Britain asked, his face pinched with what I knew to be concern.

"This the second time German soldiers have specifically been after me... I think Germany knows about me." A tremor entered my voice and I cleared my throat to cover it up.

"Don't jump to conclusions." Britain cautioned, despite his eyes saying he had similar suspicions. "It could be they have simply noticed your presence among nations and they suspect you know about our battle plans." Britain suggested, calming me as his theory distracted me from the idea Germany might have known about me.

"As a woman," I narrowed my eyes and Britain corrected. "And a mortal human, you may appear to be an easier target to get information from." Britain eyes narrowed. "A foolish concept, as if that we'd make that easy." There was a promise of pain to whoever thought of such a plan and a warmth smile stretched across my lips.

Though it was short lived as I shook my head side-to-side. "I want to agree, but those dreams always coincide when I'm attacked."

Britain's eyebrows jumped up. "It happened this time as well?"

"Yes, that's why I fell into the pool. It made me so dizzy, I lost my balance. Thankfully, America got me... Where is America?" I recalled my unanswered question and looked at the open doorway to my room, nearly expecting him to burst in claiming he was the hero.

Britain fidgeted slightly as if he was no longer comfortable. "He is...out." Britain no longer maintained eye contact, putting me on edge.

"Why? Not that I don't appreciate you being here," Britain gained the courage to look at me after my admittance. "But I was certain America wouldn't leave my side until I woke up."

It's hard enough to get away from me when I'm not injured! I thought jokingly, but happy to know my country liked me so much.

"In part, you are correct...he didn't leave the first few days." Britain admitted and I frowned seriously.

"What do you mean days?" My pitch was higher and Britain clearly heard that as he bent over to give my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Why do you think I'm here?" Britain sighed as he took back his hand to scrub his eyes. "America did take you to a hospital, but the doctors concluded you'd awaken within an hour so sent you home." He looked aged and more weary when he looked down at me.

"But that clearly didn't happen, so how long have I been sleeping?" I couldn't help but demand.

"For four days." I couldn't form words after he said that, so Britain continued. "Therefore when you remained asleep all day, America called me and asked me to hrm...fix you." Britain clearly didn't agree with America's odd wording (too improper?).

"Yet I could not find anything to explain your coma state. Though that was before I knew of your daymare. Now I suspect that may have been the cause. For why, I'm not sure." Britain sounded like hadn't wanted to admit his lack of knowledge and was clearly badgering himself about it.

"It's okay, I don't know either. It's never made me sleep so long before." I reassured him, and Britain nodded distractedly. "So how long has America been gone?"

"You know that idiot, he can only stay still for so long. He left about two days ago." His eyes flickered towards the doorway, perhaps also wondering if America would make a sudden appearance.

"To do what?" I questioned, causing Britain's back tensed again.

"Oh, I don't know. He wouldn't tell me, blast him." Britain was frustrated, but I knew it branched from worry. "He could be chasing your assaulter, discussing with the officials how his home was found, or tightening security in his capital for all I know!" His voice turned into a growl as he crossed his arms.

"Probably all three." I sighed and pinched the bridge of nose. "This isn't good, he shouldn't do anything for me." The nation looked perturbed by what appeared to be self-deprecation, but I held a hand up to silence his protests.

"I don't belong here, in this world. Anything you or him does in my behalf is something you never did in the original timeline and has the potential to alter the future." I closed my eyes, bothered by the possible ramifications.

"We will address that if and when we must." Britain attempted to reassure me.

But by then it would be to late. I didn't vocalize my thought because as Britain had essentially said, fretting would not bring America back or return Britain to England faster.

"Okay, so what now?" I somewhat managed to forget my troubles. "We twiddle our thumbs until America returns to mega glomp me?" I half-smiled at the idea.

"Glomp you?" Britain's face pinched in distaste. "That sounds disturbing."

"Forget it." I turned my head to stare at my curtain-covered window, trying to make out what I could of the outside. "It's probably a beautiful day for winter, maybe I'll build a snowman to greet him." My joke was weak, which was probably why Britain stayed silent.

Do you want to build a snowman- Ugh, that song will be stuck in my head now! Considering I hadn't consumed coffee in days, I was suffering from withdrawal and was now very susceptible to random song lyrics playing in my head.

Fortunately Britain decided to take my attention away from Disney films. "I suppose you could, but perhaps you'd like some of my homemade soup first."

Oh no. My head snapped back and I stared at him.

Britain frowned at the rash movement. "What is it? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"No reason, just remembered I was hungry." I made-up on the spot, but spoke with conviction.

You only sentenced my tongue to a terrible, terrible death. I was hungry, but I had no desire to risk my life by becoming a taste-tester for Britain (I might actually miss France right now).

"And while I appreciate the thought," I hurried on before Britain could offer me a bowl right here and now. "I'd prefer some scones. Maybe I could bake some for us."I suggested the first excuse that came to mind.

Yet I doubted my plan worked when Britain's eyes lighted up, clearly unaware of my true intention. "Why I can do that myself! You'll love my-"

"No!" Britain was stunned into silence, and I rushed to save face. "I mean, I've been lying around for so long. I could at least help you cook...stretch my legs and all that jazz." I spoke casually, while tossing my legs over the side of the bed.

Britain stared at me for a good minute, probably weighing my words, but soon gave me a small smile. "Alright, I suppose the both of us together would get you fe faster."

And this is totally as good as I'm getting... Wonderful. Though it didn't show on my face, I felt dismayed I couldn't dissuade him entirely.

"Yeah, I could show you my dad's favorite recipe." I stood up without trouble, ignoring the ache deep in my bones.

Britain observed my sturdy stance and nodded to himself before heading out my room. "I've tried to send you some biscuits before, but America always refused to take them."

"God bless America."

"What was that, May?" Britain glanced back, and I quickly looked away when I realized my thought had been spoken aloud.

"I said I'm going to change and then I'll be right down." I rubbed the back of my hair nervously, hoping it looked like it needed to be brushed into a ponytail and grateful someone had placed me in my pajamas so my excuse was credible.

"Alright, I'll just gather the ingredients to prepare." Britain continued down the hall and I waited for him to leave before I collapsed back onto my bed in relief.

I am so going to give America the biggest burger in the world when he gets home. If my taste buds could speak, I had a feeling they'd have agreed.

"Stand back!" The fire alarm wailed as I sprayed the foam on the blackened oven pan.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Britain demanded while he jumped back at the last second to avoid the foam. "Those were perfectly good scones!" He waved his mitten-covered hands angrily in the direction of the oven's interior, which is where the pan rested.

I stopped spraying, set the fire extinguisher on the counter, and glared at him with a frazzled look. "Are. You. Insane?!" I punctuated each word with a jabbed finger in Britain's chest. "They were on fire!" I was nearly yelling, but still held some restraint. Though my ponytail swayed violently as my body shook with fiery emotion.

"No they weren't!" Britain asserted, his face colored a mad red. "Merely...merely a little overdone." His voice faltered, and I took the advantage to continue.

"The flames were taller than me!"

"It wasn't so! Only crisp-"

"For goodness sake!" I grabbed Britain's head and turned it to face the coal black scones. "It's. Still. Smoking!" I released him and waved my hands frantically at the extremely baked goods that had smog lazily rising from them.

"I..." Faced with the evidence, the anger drained from Britain and his shoulders slumped. "Oh, you're right! Why must this always happen?!" He tossed off his mittens angrily and allowed them fall to the ground. I, however, couldn't help but concentrate on what might have caused this fiasco.

"I don't know what went wrong." I muttered to myself.

I monitored everything he did. I mixed the batter myself and even lowered the oven temperature when he wasn't looking. I recalled each step, and couldn't think of anything that could of led to the creation of charcoal instead of scones.

I know they say Britain can't cook, but he did everything I would of done in the exact same circumstances! It isn't humanely possible...human...

"That's it!" I concluded, and Britain wearily looked up from his attempt to lift one of the cookies, only for it to crumble into dust between his fingers.

"What? That I'm a failure whom can only do wrong?" Britain said gloomily, but I took no note as I came to a possible answer.

"No, you can't cook." I stated plainly, but his reaction was instantaneous.

"You too?! I thought you liked my food, but you're like everyone el-"

"No, you don't understand." I gently lowered the hands he thrown up to point accusingly at me, and he was taken aback enough to allow me to. "I meant you are not able, as in incapable." I tried to find the words, while Britain's face lessened in red though the scowl remained.

"Explain yourself." He yanked his hands back to cross his arms, on the defensive. I wondered what that action said about him (used to being attacked?), but moved on to answer.

"I mean, I don't think this was your fault." I pointed at the scones.

"So you believe the oven was at fault?" Britain guessed, his arms loosening.

I shook my head. "Not the oven. You, as in Britain the nation."

His head titled and his arms dropped altogether as he became puzzled. "I don't follow, you know I'm-"

"Gah," I felt my irritation returning at the trouble I had in explaining. "I'm trying to say Arthur Kirkland might of been able to cook if he were just some human. But you're more than that. You're a nation and representative of the majority of Britain." I looked at him seriously, yet his confusion persisted.

I tried to further explain. "Being a representation means representing their stereotypes, such as the belief that British people can't cook."

"You mean it's because I'm a nation that the scones burned?" Britain sounded thoughtful while I nodded. Yet anger soon came upon his face. "But my people can cook!"

"I'm not saying they can't." I said confidently, trying not to think about the fact my mother was a better cook than either me or my father.

"But the stereotype exists, and by design you're obligated to embody it." I said kindly, sympathetic.

"That..that actually makes sense..." Britain said in a breathy voice, like it was unheard of. "I never thought of my ability like that." Britain appeared stunned.

"Yeah, I guess all those times people said you couldn't cook they were wrong. It's not actually your fault." Britain was definitely stunned. "That would be like blaming the leaves for falling in autumn. It's beyond their control." I gave him a soft pat on the arm, getting him out of his stupor.

"Well perhaps you can tell America about this." He told me very smug-like. "Then he can stop pattering on about my apparent lack of taste buds."

"Trust me, I've got plenty to tell him when he gets home." I sighed, thinking of the rant I had planned for him in case he had done something rash. "But for now, how about I just get a cup of coffee?" I said with a smile, deciding not to mention how my stomach chose at this moment to send me a pang of hunger, clearly displeased with my decision.

"So what do we do with the scones?" He said, most likely talking to himself.

I replied regardless. "I'll figure something out."

"Then I suppose you don't need me anymore." Britain muttered and I noticed he looked disappointed. "America should be here soon, he simply can't stay away from you for too long." He turned away from me to stare at the failed scones.

"Actually," Britain glanced back as I walked up to him. "I was wondering if you'd like to go over my notes on the Travel. With what happened and all, we might make some headway into these mysteries."I suggested.

"You're right." Britain faced me again, and I could swear he appeared more chipper than usual. "Where is the journal?"

"In my room." I said. "Go upstairs and you'll find it on my dresser. I'll meet you in the living room." I said, already facing the cabinets to retrieve the coffee grinds. Britain murmured an agreement before I heard him walk off. Only then did I turn to the oven plate (definitely charcoal) as I placed my hands on my hips.

Well...I know one place these could be of use.

I flipped the poker stick around to shift the coal in the fireplace to a better location, which caused the flames to stretch higher.

"I see you've started the fire." I didn't gaze back at Britain, recognizing his presence. "I would of done it earlier, but I couldn't seem to locate any charcoal nearby." It took a great amount of effort for me not to stiffen, though I allowed the guilty expression to run over my face because he couldn't see it.

"Hm," I tried to make my hum sound natural. "I guess I was more fortunate, found some coal lying around here." I shrugged, and stood back up to place the poker against the wall.

I really hope the smoke doesn't smell like scones. I eyed the fire warily before turning to Britain with a smile. He was already sitting on one of the chairs, flipping through pages of the notebook. I walked over and sat on the plush chair beside him to make it easier to converse.

"So this is all the information you've acquired?" He held the book up to me so I could see the page was titled DREAMS.

"Yup." I nodded with a smile, which gradually faded as I observed the inadequate details.

Britain must of felt similarly discouraged because his eyebrows scrunched together as he read my little notes. "There are...quite a bit of details about the circumstances." I knew he was attempting to come off as reassuring, but I shook my head.

"Yeah, and next to nothing about the dreams themselves." I didn't have to look at the book to know what it said, as I had looked it over so often it was ingrained inside my brain.

-Creates panic like I'm entrapped or being led somewhere involuntarily

-The noise resembles radio static

-Large body of water, possibly an ocean

-I'm sinking in the dream? Or drowning?

I recounted those meager lines, and felt my head dip down.

"This simply won't do." Britain tsked to himself thoughtfully and the book snapping close caused me to look up.

"What?"

He regarded me after he set the book on the small table. "May, I wish to try something with you. It could help us understand these dreams of yours." He stared evenly into my eyes and I felt a thoughtful frown tug on my mouth.

"You know I'm down for anything." Another thought hit me. "Excluding your black magic of course." My mouth became a stern line and I narrowed my eyes in disdain.

Britain's eyes sparked with annoyance. "And why not? You believe my magic false as well?" There was clear challenge in his tone.

"No, it's personal." I didn't explain further because I wasn't entirely sure how to.

I just don't want it near me. Perhaps it was the instincts from my former life in the real world, but it didn't sit well with me to have any dealings with black magic.

I decided to speak further though before he went on a tirade. "And you really think I would accept that your magical friends are real," I waved at the empty air space that Britain often claimed they occupied. "Despite how it makes you look like your having a psychiatric episode when you talk them,"

"I do not!"

"And then deny magic itself?" I heard iron enter my voice as his constant questioning of my trust in him irked me.

Britain's rigid stance faltered and his anger dipped down once he realized his accusation held no basis. "I...I see." He had the decency to look ashamed. "My apologizes, I'm merely-"

"You're used to having people treat you like your insane or lying." I sighed, feeling my own sparks die down. "I know." I dipped my head in a moment of sympathy.

"Er...I wasn't go to suggest that anyway." Britain moved on less than elegantly, but I pretended not to point it out. "What I was really suggesting is that we attempt to unlock your mind with a psychological method." Britain sobered.

"How?" I leaned forward, attention caught.

"While I'm no expert, I have heard how hypnosis could unearth some submerged memories."

I blinked. "You mean like Freud did? With a pocket watch?" I knew it was a stereotype, but it was the first thing to come to mind.

"You are getting sleepy. Very sleepy." I couldn't quite place the dialogue, but I felt like I had watched a cartoon where one of the protagonists had said that to trick another character (something on Cartoon Network?).

"Yes, Sigmund Freud." Britain spoke the name as if he held some respect for the man, which I knew was rather rare. "Though I admit some of his theories were quite unorthodox, I hold more confidence in his work with psychoanalysis and repressed memories." Britain nodded to himself.

Yeah, the whole "all children want to kill one of their parents and mate with the other" was more than unorthodox. I shuddered at the thought, and decided to stop thinking altogether to rid myself of it.

"-it would put you in a state where you are in the middle ground of conscious and unconscious." Britain was in the middle of an explanation so I rapidly tried to grasp what I'd missed. "Unlike prior encounters with these daymares, where you are incapable of taking action, you would be more aware and free to traverse through them." Britain held a hopeful little smile while I took the time to let the proposal sink in.

Is...is that possible? I had taken a psychology course once in high school, and from what I could remember of Freud, he was very successful at pulling out repressed memories from his patients.

And isn't that what these dreams are? A hidden memory? Just because I couldn't remember what happened in them didn't mean I held no memory of the dreams, but they were probably trapped in a part of my brain that I couldn't reach on my own.

"You really think it would work?" I didn't hide the longing in the timbre of my tone. The idea I could resolve this mystery, which seemed to be the core of everything else, after two years of struggling was overwhelming.

"In theory, yes." His words caused me to glance down to think for a moment.

"Let's do it!" I snapped my head up and Britain shifted back minutely, clearly shocked by the power behind my words. "Just tell me what to do." I added rapidly.

"Alright, luv," Britain raised his hands in a placating manner, despite appearing more pleased than upset by my reaction. "Do calm yourself."

"Dude, please," I waved off his gesture in a cocky manner. "I'm always chill."

"No you're not." I stilled in my seat. "You merely act as if you are." Britain's voice fell to a whisper volume immediately, and his wide eyes expressed how he was just as taken aback by his words as I was. Clearly he intended to keep that thought to himself, but had oddly enough blurted it out.

"I, um..." Britain flailed to redirect the conversation.

Deciding to save him, I reluctantly bit out, "I guess you caught me." I shrugged, despite how I was feeling quite a bit more exposed than I preferred.

My gaze dipped down to stare at the carpet below. "I am upset most of the time, but I try not to look like it. My dad thinks I picked it up from mom." I set my chin in my hand as I thought about it. "But hey, at least it makes the Incredible Hulk super relatable." My gaze rose up to find Britain appeared torn between confusion and being apologetic.

"Anyway, how about we get started?" I sat up tall while my hands fell down, and Britain gladly leapt at the chance to move on.

"Well, to begin I will need you to remain as you are." Britain's expression became more severe. "And you're going to have to do whatever I say without question." Britain spoke hesitantly, almost as if he believed I wouldn't listen to him.

"Britain," I waited for him to look me in the face before going on. "Unless you're a incredibly well disguised France," He made an offended noise, almost like a snort that was cut off before it could fully form (Britain's amused?). "I trust you."

Britain composed himself in seconds and his eyes shone in determination. "Close your eyes." I did so. "This should help you concentrate on only what you hear me say." He explained, his voice just a tad deeper either because he wanted it to be or losing my sight let me hone in to the idiosyncrasies of his voice more easily. All the same, in a lower octave, his tone sounded richer in a way that made me smile.

Like dad...almost.

"Picture yourself lying in bed, resting." Britain guided, and I pushed aside all former thoughts to follow. "All you see is darkness." It was easy to imagine since my eyes were closed. "You hear nothing and feel nothing, everything is at peace." I felt my shoulders slowly lower as body relaxed and I sunk deeper into the cushions.

"But then there is something...or someone reaching out to you." I frowned, and tensed as I tried with all my might to recall anything. "It's all around you like you've fallen into-" His words muffled into oblivion as I was hooked onto one word.

Falling... Yes, I'm always falling in them. The setting of my imagination shifted so I was no longer lying down on a mattress, but I had taken a dip backwards and was heading straight down.

I am falling down a dark and empty space of nothing. I had entered into a daymare of my own making.

"Perhaps it's endless." I sunk further, but not into the couch.

There is nothing here, in fact I can't tell if my back faces the ground or the sky.

"What do you see?" His words vibrated my eardrums like the vibration of a gong.

Everything is riddled with shadows and I cannot make out nothing but myself.

"I'm falling...into..." I started to speak hardly above a hiss, but I get caught up in the setting within my mind.

I'm weightless and there is nothing but me.

I am lost in a silent world.

Britain must notice my struggle because he soon continues. "Or perhaps you're not really falling, but it is much slower than that. You are sinking into..."

A flood of color gushes in, and the ink is replaced by the clarity of water.

"Some type of ocean or pool of water." I announced, my smiling evident both in reality and the daymare.

Yeah, there is always water. Something rung true about my statement, like a puzzle piece snapped into the perfect place.

I am not alarmed by the fact I can apparently breathe under water, the drifting making my rationale hazy.

"So you're sinking into water, a large amount of it." Britain smoothly resumed as if he'd never stopped. "How does it feel?"

"It's warm." It's an automatic response because I didn't have to think about it.

Like I have taken a long sip of a beverage, the warmth starts at the top of my throat and spreads down my chest until it's everywhere.

"It is comfortable, perhaps soothing as well." He droned on, probably noting how lax my position on the couch had become. "But you don't just feel, you must see something too." He fished for the details.

"It's all blue, nearly transparent." I hummed, knowing there is little else to describe as I can't even see the ocean floor.

I am drifting and my limbs are limp in the blue cocoon.

"Perhaps you hear something as well...a voice?" Britain briefly sounded uncertain, but he maintained an flat tone so as to not disrupt my concentration.

"I don't..." I felt my forehead scrunch up.

I start to flounder in the water, creating my own little waves as I squirm.

"It's quiet." I could not recall anything but a firm silence in the water. "But it shouldn't be." I figured out something was absent because my daymare simply wasn't that nightmarish enough.

I use my hands to paddle up in the chances it will slow my descent. I don't want to reach the bottom without receiving any answers.

"Then you must not be listening closely enough." His tone indicated it was a comment instead of a reprimand. "Search for what led you to this place, the...static that guided you down." Britain was stumped on how to precede, which was obvious from his sudden mentioning of my note from the book.

There is only me, my thoughts and movements to disrupt the quiet. My arms and my legs in a violent rotation so I can pause in my drifting.

"No, I don't hear anything." I practically hissed, my frustration bleeding into my voice. "It isn't like there's some radio randomly floating in this ocean." I clench my teeth and my body tenses against the couch.

"Then reach deeper, May." The sudden sound of my name anchored me enough that I was able to edge away from my frustration. "It might be very hard to hear, but you can reach it." He enunciated the "can" with such conviction that I knew I couldn't give up.

Is anyone there? Can you hear me? I pushed my thoughts outwards, stilling so there will be no sounds unless someone else makes them.

"Reach out your voice and keep your ears open." Britain's encouragement convinces me not to be discourage by the silence.

Where are you? I know you're always supposed to be here. I am attempting to be patient, but when no reply after what is surely a minute, I frown in disappointment.

"Can you hear anything? Is there something or someone with you?" Britain's questions were hardly noted as I loosen my hold on this dream.

Please... I see little point in remaining in an ocean by my lonesome, so I redirect my attention to real life

"YouzzZz?" The scratchy echo of a voice causes me to flounder in surprise. I then look around rapidly.

"Britain, I can hear someone. They must be here."

"Good!" Britain's baritone shifted to its typical pitch in order to allow room for his excitement. "Now what are they say-"

"ZzmezzZcome tozzz" I flinch when the static distorts the voice to a point that it's the equivalent of a microphone squealing.

"Wait...wrong..." I struggled to make out words, but my mouth wouldn't move.

Oh no. The voice is now a presence like a person lingering behind me uncomfortably close.

"Saying...you..." Britain could no longer reach, but I hoped he realized something was going wrong.

"YouzzZreadyzzz"

Britain? I was uncertain whether it was a thought or a whisper, but it took all the energy I had left to say it before I can do nothing more.

The tides picks up abruptly, and I'm knocked down.

A torrent of blue blue blue BLUE BLUE BLUE

is everwhere and I am spun into its depths

I yell instinctively.

And water rushes into my lungs.

"Zzzmayzzt?"

I can't breathe, see, hear

"ZZZZhurtzznozzz"

The tides slow faster than they had rushed in,

but I still can't breathe.

"ZzzZZZZzzzz!" The static sharpens to siren pitch, alarmed.

I want help, but thoughts are slippery eels

Until a push sends me flying away away and up to a sky.

I take in air desperately.

And blackout gladly.

"Chnn...koo..."

I felt nothing but resentment as I entered a conscious, albeit groggy, state.

This...again? I passed out again? Fortunately, the disorientation was already leaving me.

"Kur...May..." I took my time to cracking open an eye, unfortunately used to walking up to a running dialogue.

Ouch! I shut it immediately after being confronted by a stream of sunlight.

Slowly, nice and slow. I peeled open both eyes to mere silts, waited for them to adjust to the sun, and then gradually widened them.

Is that...America? I raised my head cautiously, but it was an unnecessary gesture since my muscles didn't protest the movement.

"...Iggy..." The disdain was clear in America's tone despite how I could barely hear his mutter.

What has this idiot been doing? America's left arm was in a white sling, leaving the sleeves of his bomber jacket to hang loosely on his sides. Though he probably didn't realize it, he was pouting as Britain adjusted the sling on his shoulder. Britain's back was turned towards me, but I had a feeling he was scowling if the dark mutterings coming from him were any indication.

"America?" I called out softly, yet it still had the effect of a trumpet being played at the library as two heads snap towards my direction.

"May!" America cheered, maneuvering his arm from Britain as he passed him by. His grin was wide and his eyes were vibrant while he rushed up to my bedside.

"Oy!" Britain growled briefly, after nearly being knocked over by America's rush, but he too hurried over to my side.

I fixed myself into a sitting position and raised my head to face him. "You're finally back, huh? What took you so long?" I questioned a little chidingly, and America's arm twitched like he wanted to rub the back of his head sheepishly.

Like his typical shameless self though, America didn't allow that to ruin his good mood. "Ah, nan to ieba ī? Isogashikat...ta... May?" His speech broke off and I fell back against the headboard without registering the sensation.

What in the actual... The language was definitely heard by me, but like my brain had been switched to the off position, I couldn't comprehend what I'd just witnessed.

"May-san?" Britain leaned in closer and I must admit I jumped back.

"A-America?" I somehow regained my voice, but I was still all wide-eyes and a heart racing. "What did you... What did you just say?" I tried and failed to stop my voice from wavering, while Britain looked ready to pull out a stethoscope and make certain I wasn't on my way to a heart attack and America simply appeared puzzled.

I must of heard wrong! ...Watched too many animes in Japanese last week...or something.

America blinked and Britain observed me critically. "Isogashika...tta..." America words fell off once again, his face pinched with concern. I could only assume my face was a sight to see when a recognizable language once again failed to reach my ears.

"Okay," I held up my hand to stop Britain from moving towards me with what appeared to be a thermometer in hand. "What is happening? Why can't I understand what you guys are saying?!" The itch of my voice practically squeaked as I stared at those who looked and acted like familiar companions, but sounded nothing lie them.

"Nani?!" Their exclaims merged while the feeling of wrongness made me feel trippier than when I had woken up.

"You're not speaking English... You-you sound like you're speaking Japanese." They looked ready to fall over as I rubbed a hand roughly down my face before pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Nani May-" America's started running his mouth at high speed, but I could hardly catch a thing he said. Though that might of simply been because he was also using his uninjured arm to shake me by the shirt collar as if that would fix everything.

Not even a language barrier teaches him about personal space. I probably resembled Japan that one time he allowed Italy to drive him to a meeting while my brain rattled against my skull.

"Baka! Kanojo kara orite kudasai! " The double vision image of green, which I assumed was Britain, actually seemed to be moving his mouth faster as he shoved America off of me. They began to argue among themselves and my name was thrown in occasion, therefore I figured it had something to do with me.

Ugh, it's like when parents didn't want me to know what they were saying. I recalled moments in my childhood where my parents wanted to discuss "adult" topics and they'd switch to Japanese or French so I wouldn't understand them. It was one of the downfalls of having multilingual parents.

"-Igirisu! Anata wa kore o yatta!" America shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Britain, whom took offence.

"Fuseikaku, Ameri-"

"Stop!" Both Britain and America froze in their attempts to throttle each other and froze. "I have no idea what's happening, but you two going on like a Japanese soap opera isn't helping me think!" I pushed myself to the side of the bed and slid onto my feet in front of them while they untangled themselves.

"Demo-"

"No buts, America." I told him, causing him to look confused before his expression became hopefully. "Yes, I know a couple of Japanese words thanks to my mom so I sort of understand you." I corrected him, making very sure to stick to an English vocabulary (not that that's hard) since I had a theory about what was going on. "Anyway, how about I do most of the talking considering you guys can understand me?" I gave them inquisitive looks to make sure.

"Hai." They both nodded, though America continued. "Anata wa mattaku onaj-"

"Please," I held a hand up to stop what sounded to me like background noise. "Only 'yes' or 'no' because everything else will be lost on me." I sighed, feeling only mildly bad as America deflated and looked downright despondent that he couldn't babble on to me.

"Sooo," I tried to figure out where to start this investigation. "I sound like I'm speaking English, right?" I figured making sure their hearing wasn't messed up like mines seemed to be was a good idea.

"Hai." They nodded enthusiastically, perhaps exaggerating the emotion to make certain I understood them.

"And when you talk, you do not hear yourselves speaking Japanese?" I recalled their shock when I told them they'd weren't speaking English. "You hear yourselves speaking English?" I finally asked, and was not surprised when both gave an affirmative to prove my theory correct.

So I was right not to try speaking Japanese to them. My theory was one reason I hadn't made an attempt. The other was the fact some small, superstitious part of me wondered if my Asian ancestors would magically appear to haunt me if I started butchering their native tongue (in anime no less!).

"In that case," I gazed out my bedroom window, using the window sill as a focus point to steady my thoughts. "There is something wrong with me, not you guys." I returned my line of sight to the two worried countries.

"Tabun-" Britain cut himself off with a frustrated look, clearly ready to speak to me before recalling he couldn't.

"Maaay." America whined in an inflection I knew too well for my likely (he's so childish!) and yet it came off foreign. I frowned in the universal expression of sympathy to express how I too wished we could talk.

"Amerika," Britain started, walking up to America with the appearance of someone in deep thought. "Nani o itte-" I stopped listening since I couldn't understand.

Yet whatever had been said seemed to brighten America's outlook on the situation. "Un!" My nation agreed with Britain, something rare indeed, before he rushed out the room.

Britain turned to me, as if he wanted to explain, so I decided to offer up a guess. "So you guys have an idea...that can help us communicate?" Britain smiled slightly and was in the process of nodding when a large crash resounded in the hallway outside.

"Amerika?" Britain frowned in concern, and shifted to poke his head out the room only to immediately thrown himself back.

Jeez! I jumped back as well when a large blackboard flew into the room with a grinning America attached to it.

"Baka!" Britain barked at him as he leapt back to his feet and brushed off his clothes.

"Hm?" America blinked in the face of Britain, who lectured him while I inspected the blackboard.

Haven't seen one of these since second grade. I observed how the blackboard was held up by two stilts on the left and right side of it, which were then attached to wheels so it could be mobile.

"So you want to write to me?" I asked, not even looking away from the board as Britain stopped lecturing America.

"Mhm!" America produced a piece of chalk from seemingly nowhere and without preamble began to scribble something down.

Though I frowned after he stepped back.

"May?" Britain observed the dismay on my face as I sighed.

"I don't see English," I gazed sorrowfully at America's writing. "Just Japanese characters." The disappointment became more evident on America, as he seemed to slump over, but I was already looking away. "Which is odd..." I walked over to the stack of novels I had borrowed from America's bookshelf downstairs and observed the names on the binding of them. "Since I can still read these book titles."Britain appeared puzzled as he followed me over to the novels, as if they held the key to understanding.

"Maybe it isn't just me that is having perception issues, but perhaps it is also your world that is sending me mixed signals." I turned to America, and nearly face-palmed at the brain-dead expression on his face (it's not rocket science!). On the other hand, Britain only looked thoughtful as I plucked the piece of chalk out of America's hands.

"May?" America questioned as I started to write, though I didn't answer since I was concentrating on my writing.

"What does this say, America? And please try your best to capture the emotion of it too." I held a serious tilt to my face while I backpedaled to allow America to view the board.

Keep your ears open, listen closely.

America leaned in to make sure he could see my smaller writing and then rose to a stand. "It's easy!" He repeated with feigned excitement, emphasis only slightly dampened by his uncertainty over what I wanted.

I know that voice! But it's not the English dub voice actor... I felt an idea of mines forming, but I required more evidence.

"Okay, I think I know what's happening, but I need to hear America say more to prove it." I explained and Britain gave me an inquiring look.

"Alright, so remember how I said that the...device we use to watch you guys in my world was made by a Japanese guy?" I had almost forgotten my original explanation, causing me to stumble considering it had been two years ago.

"Hai." Britain dragged out the word, uncertain why I brought that up.

"Well because it was a Japanese person, you guys were first observed by Japanese people. And that means you guys originally sounded like you're speaking Japanese." They're face scrunched up in distaste or confusion, but probably a combination at the idea of speaking a language that wasn't their own or having aspects of their lives viewed for entertainment.

"But when they started showing you guys to other countries, they translated the Japanese to English so Americans like me could understand you. Normally you guys sound like the English versions of yourself to me, but I think my accident with the dreams made something go wrong with the signals this world is sending to my sight and hearing." I wasn't sure how else to explain or if I was even right, but it was all I could think of.

A large "oh" expression came upon Britain, while America still appeared to have been mind-blown. "Anyway, America could you say..." I went through the memories in my head and tried to think of a line of English which had randomly appeared in the Japanese dub.

Well there is that one... It was a struggle not to laugh as I recalled the episode America had Japan watch a "scary" movies with him, and the actor had suddenly thrown in English lines.

"Say 'It's scary', and try to sound really freaked out."I somehow kept a blank look, but that didn't help.

"MAY?!" America looked rightly taken aback, even moving back as if I had told him he would only eat salad from now on.

"Oh come on, hero, it's for a good cause." I tired to reassure him, only for a snicker of laughter to come from my side. Thus I rounded on Britain who had been staring at America with a smirk on his lips.

"Britain, please act your literal age." I deadpanned and immediately America burst into laughter at the sight of Britain's reprimanded expression.

Wait a second, that sound like the English dub laughter- Lightning went up my spine, the world was no longer there, and blue enveloped my entire vision.

And then the world righted itself as if nothing happened.

"Hey, dude, are you okay?" America glanced at me, still smiling after his laughing fit.

"I can understand you again!" My volume reflected my overjoyed state.

"Really?" America ran up to me in disbelief, but after seeing me nod, he seemed to process it. "HELL YEAH, MAY IS BACK!" He cheered, raising his lone free arm in exultation, and causing me to stand back before he actually did bear hug me.

"Is this true?" Britain walked up to me in a much calmer manner. "You're hearing has fixed itself without any aid?" He sounded mildly suspicious, probably due to the philosophy of "too good to be true".

I shrugged. "I don't know."

But it might make more sense if we study the dreams and this incident more. I vowed to note all of this in my journal once I got the chance.

"Well that was super freaky, dudes!" America interjected, pushing himself to stand in between me and Britain. "And it's all the limey's fault!" He said it like it was a cheer, but anyone with common sense could hear the implication.

Why do I feel like that one kid in the middle of a custody battle? I thought after being caught up in America's one-armed hug, which I honestly wasn't sure I could escape considering the strength of it.

"Excuse me? I didn't-"

"You're the reason she was knocked out again!" America's face soured, as he sent a glare towards Britain. "You and you're psychics stuff could of hurt her bad!" I was certain both me and Britain face palmed at America's butchering of English. "If you hadn't-"

"Hey, down America! Dowwwn!" I slipped out of America's loosened hold, since he'd been caught up in yelling, and stood between America and his target. Though Britain continued looking down, almost as if he didn't want to put up a defense against America's accusation. Almost like he believed it too.

"But he-"

"Was doing what I asked him to do." I crossed my arms and posed myself defiantly before my country. "So if you want to be upset at anyone, you're looking at her." I asserted, and America frowned, clearly upset he couldn't (wouldn't ever) lash out at me. "I certainly don't blame him for anything." I sent Britain an encouraging glance, which he returned with a shocked gaze back.

"Besides, it looks like I wasn't the only one who's been taking some risks." I placed my hands on my hips and gave America a look over, eyeing the sling.

"Indeed, he has been reckless." Britain finally stepped forward, regaining confidence now that the subject wasn't him.

"Dudes!" America whined as I and Britain gave him unimpressed looks.

"I just remembered." Britain rubbed a hand over his face. "You never did tell me why you hadn't had your arm treated before coming here!" Britain snapped.

"I already said, I didn't notice the arm thing!" America pouted, clearly not understanding our concern.

How do you not notice your arm is broken?! I thought before recalling America was a nation who healed nearly as fast as Wolverine from X-Men. Though that also made me wonder how badly he had to have been hurt for his arm to need to be placed in a sling, despite his super healing.

"That being so, you shouldn't just come in with you're arm bleeding everywhere!" Britain continued, perhaps even more upset than myself.

"So what? I'll just have the carpet cleaned!" Aggravation slipped into his tone.

"That's not what I meant! You nearly gave me a-" Britain cut himself off, and I thought I saw the faintest hint of ruby on his cheeks.

"Gave you what?!" America looked just as frustrated, and for once, his cheeks were inflamed.

"Never mind, you dolt." Britain muttered so softly that the venom he intended fell flat. "It seems I've overstayed my welcome, and since May seems fine, I'll take my leave." Britain abruptly announced, his posture stiff as he headed out my room.

"Well if anything else comes up," I somehow found my voice despite the suddenness of his leave surprising me. "Expect a call from me."

Britain nodded curtly after tossing a coat, that was on the chair next to my bed, over his arm. "Just keep and eye on that idiotic Yankee. His arm should heal in the next couple of hours or so." Britain spoke hardly over a mummer without turning back, and then he was out the door.

"Ugh, he was making this place smell like tea anyway!" America shouted loud enough that I knew he was aware Britain would hear him. Therefore neither of us was shocked by the rough sound of a door slamming close downstairs. "At least I could get some coffee without him yelling at me." America shrugged his good shoulder, preparing to head down.

"Wait," I grabbed America's arm and he turned back with me like he knew what I wanted to ask. The guarded expression on his face telling me more than he probably wanted to tell.

He won't listen, will he? I wanted to tell him he shouldn't have run off and got hurt. I wanted to scold him on the dangers of letting his life be impacted by me, a girl out of time. I even wanted to punch him just because I have anger issues and it would make me feel a smidgen better.

I didn't.

I wiped away any trace of inner turmoil and made my inflection sassy as I spoke. "Just tell me if I should pack my bags and get ready to move to a safe house." I sighed, one hand on my hip and my face shifting side to side in exasperation.

"Yeah right, dude!" America bounced back to his usual self. "It's all been taken care of by awesome security bros." America grinned wider, just a little too much for me to name it genuine.

I assessed him for a moment, but decided there was no point demanding more details. "I never doubted it." I gave a cocky smile that was just as false as his. "Now go downstairs and sit by the fireplace while I boil us two cups of Joe." I was already leading America out of my bedroom and towards the stairs.

America pouted was evident in his voice. "But duuude, I can make it-"

"Not with that arm, and if I catch you picking at it like a trapped animal, it will stay on all night." I gave him a "try me" look as we reached the bottom of the stairs. Grumbling, America realized this was a lost battle and reluctantly wandered off to the living room. I smirked in satisfaction while I left to enter the kitchen.

Now please tell me I didn't drink all the coffee. I thought bashfully, reaching a hand out to the cabinets above.

"WHO PUT SCONES IN THE FIRE PLACE?!"

I froze in a moment of shock, which soon melted into embarrassment.

"Uh, well you see..."

Fracture (also known as Rupture): The process of being Broken

So any guesses about what's going on to May? Some of you guys are close in your theories, and I can't wait to reveal it all. Next time, expect to see a lot more of America and May hanging out, but also more reveal's about May's mysterious dreams.

Also, I am not fluent in Japanese so for anyone who is, please forgive the probably butchered language above.

See you guys in a few weeks!