"Hey, Arthur? Can you come pick me up from the airport?" Alfred said through the phone. His voice was soft and nervous, almost. Arthur had not heard from the American in a while, and was surprised to get a call from him, but he didn't expect the call to make him feel so concerned.

"Alfred... what are you doing at an airport?" the Briton asked, "And at a UK airport, for that matter." Alfred paused, but answered with, "I had a little business here, that's all." Arthur sighed loudly, but agreed to pick him up. Arthur hung up the phone, but couldn't help but feel something was going on, something that worried him a little.

Arthur shuffled through the crowd of hurrying people and scanned his surroundings. Through the crowd, he caught a glimpse of someone's hair that was very familiar, and pushed his way toward it. Alfred was standing along the wall with his suitcase near the entrance to the washrooms, and watched Arthur stumble about. He chuckled quietly to himself.

"There you are." Arthur huffed. "Let's get out of here, I hate busy airports." He grabbed cloth on Alfred's sleeve and pulled him off the wall.

"What, too many people for you?" Alfred joked as Arthur pulled him through behind him.

"It's far too hectic in these places." Arthur explained. Smiling, Alfred picked up pace and passed Arthur, pulling him along now, instead. Arthur felt annoyed by Alfred's behaviour. He had always been a bit of a goof and doing odd things... but now, it seemed to feel different. Alfred seemed to be the same as always, but to Arthur, something had changed, he knew that but, but the fact that he had no idea what the change was annoyed him a little.

Alfred tossed his case into the backseat of Arthur's car, and then got in the passenger's seat up front. He adjusted the chair so it was back a little, and closed his eyes. Arthur got into the driver's seat and grumbled when he saw that Alfred was already asleep. But, instead of waking him, he left him alone. The drive would take around a half-hour, which would give him time to rest. They could chat when they got back to Arthur's house.

"Thanks for picking me up, Artie." Alfred dropped his suitcase onto the floor in the entrance hall and began to walk forward.

"Hey, don't just leave this in the hall here, take it-" Arthur groaned as he lifted the case himself, "-to the living room or something!" Alfred playfully ignored him, and went to the living room on his own. Arthur cursed under his breath and carried the case into the room, unable to keep him from dropping hard onto the floor. He flinched and panicked a little, hoping he didn't scratch the hardwood flooring. Alfred flopped onto the couch and sunk into the cushions, closing his eyes again. He breathed out deeply, almost a sigh. Arthur sat raggedly in his armchair, again annoyed that Alfred had fallen asleep before finally being able to chat with him again, since the last time they spoke. It had been beginning to feel like ages had passed since that time.

"Hey, Arthur." The tired American began. Oh, I guess he wasn't asleep, Arthur thought.

"Uh, yes, Alfred?"

"I... Would it be too much to ask if I stayed here for a while? A couple of days or so?" he asked, in a low, soft-spoken voice, as if he felt he shouldn't bother asking. Arthur was taken by surprise.

"Why?" Arthur asked. He didn't know why, but something tightened up in his chest, like he was bracing himself for something. It made him almost not want to hear the answer.

"I still have another flight to catch in a couple days, wondered if I could stay here." His answer was normal, luckily. Arthur felt a little more at ease, but not quite. There was still something happening, Alfred was never that good at hiding things, and it hurt him to think that something troubling could happen to his "brother". They weren't related, he knew that, but he had know him for so very long, since Alfred was very small, and he had grown to be quite attached to the young fool.

"Oh, well, if that's all, you can stay for a while; I'll make up a bed for you." Arthur lifted from his chair and ventured toward the stairs to the second floor, "It is getting late; it wouldn't be a bad idea to get ourselves to sleep, especially you."

"Sorry about dumping myself on you like this, pal." He lazily called out.

"Don't worry about it; it's not a big deal." Arthur claimed. He acted bothered, but he was actually quite happy to see Alfred again, it really had been a long time. He could barely even remember the last conversation they had.

Arthur carried back the sheets from the linen closet and made his way to the spare bedroom across the hall from his own, only to hear a stirring from his chamber. Puzzled, he peered inside and saw Alfred in his bed.

"Alfred, what are you doing in there, you're sleeping in the spare room!" he shouted. Al shuffled a smidge.

"I couldn't wait, I got tired."

"You've been tired all evening."

"Yeah, I know."

"Whatever," Arthur sighed, "I'll take the spare room."

"...You don't have to do that." Alfred said quietly.

"Are you taking the spare, then?" Alfred didn't answer. England waited for one, but gave up. "I'll take the spare... Good night." England trudged off, across the hall, and grudgingly set up the sheets. Bollocks...he breathed as he flapped up one of the sheets. Alfred just lay there, but muttered something quietly, shyly.

"You could've just stayed in here, too..."

He closed his eyes and slept for the rest of the night...