America ran into the room, slamming the door open before skidding to a stop by England's desk. "England! Hey England! What are you doing?"

England looked up from his paperwork, trying hard to hide his irritation. America was young. He still didn't quite understand the importance of England locking himself away to work on reports…even though he should have understood by now.

"America," he began in that tone that made America wince as if he knew he was about to be scolded. "What have I told you about coming in here when the door is shut?"

America scuffed his feet on the floor, looking anywhere but at England. "Um…don't?"

England gave a small smile and nodded, silently urging America to continue.

"I'm sorry?" Another nod. "I promise never to do it again?"

England's smile was larger now. "Do you really mean it this time, America?"

"Yes!" America chirped, beaming when England moved down to hug him. And, ok, maybe he wasn't really telling the truth, but if he entered the room when England wasn't there, how would he know, really?

"Now, America, what was it you felt was so urgent that you just had to break in and tell me?"

"Huh?"America blinked. Oh yeah! "I found an interesting place in the woods that I wanted to show you!"

England's smile dimmed a little. The woods. Of course.

America snuck down the hallway. England was currently making dinner and America, well, he was looking for a place to hide. He may have enjoyed his cooking more than some of the other household personnel, but tonight's dish promised to be worse than usual, and America wanted nothing to do with it.

"Where can I go where he won't find me," he muttered. His room? No. That would be the first place England looked. The closet? Too obvious. "I don't know!" He exclaimed as he passed by the closed office door. The office. The office!

"Perfect!" He threw the door open and stepped in, carefully shutting it behind him. A loud rattling sound came from a drawer in the table.

"Who's there?" America called out. No response, just more rattling. "Hello?" Rattle. Rattle.

Cautiously, America made his way over to the table. "Is someone in there?" He poked the table. Even more rattling, but no verbal response. Carefully, he opened the drawer…and promptly gave a bloodcurdling scream before slamming it shut.

"England!" He shouted, leaving the drawer open and tearing out of the room. "England! England!" He ran into the kitchen and threw himself on England's leg, sobbing uncontrollably.

England, who had been so surprised by the scream that he'd dropped the utensils he'd been holding, reached down and picked up the sobbing boy. "Shh, calm down, America. Calm down. What's wrong?"

"There—there—England!"

"Shh," England said softly, moving awkwardly over to a chair and sitting down, holding America close. "I'm right here. It's ok."

They sat together for a few minutes until America's sobbing turned into hiccupping. And then, finally, he'd fallen asleep in England's arms. England sighed and stood up, having every intention on putting America to bed. He obviously wasn't going to find out what was wrong tonight.

Carefully, he carried America down the hall, frowning when he noticed the door to his office open, and taking a second to shut the door. "Surely he wasn't stupid enough to go into my office when I asked him not to? Lord only knows what he might have seen," he sighed, looking at America in his arms and shaking his head.

Finally, he reached America's room and gently placed him on the bed. "Good night, America," he said softly, bending over and placing a kiss on his forehead. When he pulled away, he was shocked to see blue eyes staring up at him.

"Eng-england?" America stuttered, reaching a hand out to cling to England's sleeve. "Can you, um, sleep with me? Please? It's too scary being alone."

"Of course, America."