It was so lonely now that he was gone. The halls were no longer filled with that boisterous laughter and there were no irritated townspeople knocking on the door to tell him that he'd been causing trouble again.

There were no timid footsteps in the middle of the night which told him he had a nightmare. There was no one to talk to anymore. The silence was almost deafening.

Arthur was back in London. It had been two months since Alfred had won his independence. The English nation sat in his study with the curtains closed. He blocked out the world outside and the people in it. The letters piled up, but they remained unopened. Arthur was looking pitiful; his blond hair was more unruly than usual and his once bright emerald eyes had dulled and they held no emotion whatsoever. He sat motionless on the soft armchair and had been doing so since that morning. He wouldn't move again until after midnight when he finally decided that sleep was a good option.

Francis had called earlier, but Arthur didn't want anything to do with him; he hated the man now more than ever. The French nation finally gave up knocking and left. If Arthur wanted to brood then so be it.

Another month had past and Arthur had barely spoken to anyone. He ventured out of the house for food but that was it. He was a shadow of his former self. He looked smaller and older, no longer a mighty empire that had the world at his fingertips. He was still refusing contact with any of the other countries, and instead of allowing the letters he'd received pile up like he had been doing, he now burned them. He didn't want to hear what any of them had to say.

Arthur was lonely. He was lonely now that Alfred had abandoned him. There was nothing he could do that would bring the boy back to him.

Arthur walked home from the bakery on a rainy Thursday afternoon and avoided eye contact with everyone. Of course, none of the civilians had any idea what he was going through, so they didn't spare him a single glance. Arthur was thankful for that.

On his way home, he glanced up and his gaze was met with the window of a toy shop. He stopped, stared and tilted his head at the puppet in the window. The cogs in his mind started to work. A puppet was like a person. One could control its every movement and it would not disobey. A small smile tugged at Arthur's lips as an idea formed in his mind.

He hurried home straight away, leaving his bags in the kitchen. He didn't think about them again as he hurried to his basement.

He would make sure Alfred would never leave him again.

He worked relentlessly for months, never giving up and never stopping. He worked day and night, and rarely took breaks. He woke up when the sun rose; he worked all day, and rested at an ungodly hour.

But at last, it was done... well by it, I mean he. He was finally finished, except for one little detail. Arthur stood back and looked at his creation, his masterpiece with an expression of satisfaction.

Alfred stared back at him, unblinking and unmoving. Arthur smiled and then he started to laugh. He laughed and laughed until tears came to his eyes. He hadn't laughed like this for months, and it felt incredible. There was only one more thing he needed to do now.

He lay the puppet Alfred down on his back then placed his hand on the boy's chest. He closed his eyes. If this didn't work then he didn't know what else he could do to fill the void of loneliness that that overcome him since that day.

He began to mumble a spell in a language that none but Arthur would recognise. As he mumbled, his hand started to glow. His mumbling grew louder, and the light around his hand grew brighter. He finished the spell and fell to his knees; exhausted from the spell. He remained on his knees for a long time, afraid that the spell didn't work. If it didn't, he didn't know what he would do.

He slowly got to his feet and kept his eyes closed. For a moment he strained his ears; he could hear nothing and his heart sank. It didn't work, it didn't-

"Hi."

Arthur could have sworn his heart stopped. That voice...

He finally opened his eyes to see the sky staring back at him. The boy tilted his head at Arthur's shocked expression and reached out. The cool wooden fingertips came into contact with his cheek and the boy smiled that bright smile that Arthur loved so much.

The Englishman couldn't help but stare at him; he looked so real. The joints were not that visible, but it didn't matter. No one was going to see him. He belonged to Arthur and Arthur alone.

Then he smiled again. A true, real smile graced his lips and he scooped the puppet boy into his arms and hugged him as close as he could. Alfred giggled and wrapped his small wooden arms around the older nation's neck and hid his face in his neck.

Arthur tightened his grip and he fought back tears. He had Alfred back to some extent. This boy wasn't the real thing, but he didn't care. This Alfred would never leave him and he would always be there for him.

He would help heal his broken heart.

The house was full of laughter again. It was full of life again. Arthur sat on his armchair with the puppet Alfred on his lap. The boy was built to look around eight years old and he was as fully functional as a normal human being, just as Arthur had intended.

Alfred looked around at him and gave him that bright beaming smile that the older man loved so much, "Arthur! Read to me again!" he waved the book around at him and continued to smile.

Arthur chuckled. He moved to take the book from the smaller hand and he moved his arms around the boy's waist to hold the book in front of him. Alfred clapped happily and leaned back against his chest to wait for him to begin reading.

Alfred was only half listening to Arthur when he began to speak. He settled in Arthur's grip and a small smile graced his lips.

He knew he wasn't like Arthur, he knew he wasn't like the other people of the world. Arthur created him and gave him life; therefore Alfred would do anything to make him happy. He would do anything to make him smile, laugh and he was there whenever Arthur was upset. The puppet Alfred knew he could never replace the original Alfred that his Arthur had lost (he'd found out about the nation America), and he was slight jealous about that, but as long as his presence now made Arthur happy then he was happy too. As long as Arthur smiled, Alfred would smile too.

He adjusted slightly to clutch on to Arthur's shirt as he listened to the soft voice read to him. He loved Arthur's voice, and he loved everything about him.

When Arthur had finished that chapter for the night, he removed one arm from Alfred's waist and he covered a yawn with his hand. He smiled slightly at his boy and said, "Right, I believe it's getting late. Time for bed."

Alfred looked up at him. He walked and talked ad acted like a regular human, however he was not a human and therefore didn't need sleep, but he still rested with Arthur. He had his own room of course, but he still preferred to stay with Arthur.

He felt himself being picked up and Arthur carried him to his room. He set him down on the bed and tucked him in. As usual, he kissed his forehead and bid him goodnight before leaving for his own room.

It wasn't long before he heard the small patter of wooden feet enter his room and Alfred cuddled up to him like he usually would.

Arthur couldn't help but smile.

During the next couple of years, Arthur worked on tweaking Alfred's personality so he was perfect. The puppet was slowly acquiring the personality of the original Alfred. He'd already acquired his fear of ghosts and his hero complex. He now thought it was his duty to protect Arthur at costs and Arthur smiled whenever the small boy would look up at him, beam brighter than the sun itself and declare that he was going to be his hero.

And as the years past, Arthur knew that Alfred would need to be repaired. The joints would start to get stiff and the wood started to fail. He replaced limbs and repaired joints and did everything he could to make sure Alfred was a good as new. Only the best for his boy, afterall.

The two enjoyed their time together and Arthur's broken heart was slowly healing. He was smiling more; he was laughing and enjoying life again. Alfred was happy that his purpose was being fulfilled.

Alfred sometimes thought that he made Arthur too happy, so he tried to misbehave. He was scared that Arthur wouldn't want him anymore. He was afraid that Arthur would deactivate the spell that brought him to life and the puppet would be useless again.

He told Arthur this and if he could cry, he'd be bawling. Arthur merely frowned and brought the boy close to him and hugged him as tight as he could and told him that he would never ever think that.

"I could never do that to you. You filled the hole that he left, and if I ever let you go then that hole would come back twice as large and engulf me. I needed you then and I still need you."

Then Alfred smiled and wrapped his small arms around his neck.

He smiled.

"Thank you."

The world meeting was a bore as usual, and Arthur did his best to ignore the American nation's stupid and ridiculous ideas. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed quietly. How long could this really go on for?

He glanced around and saw that the rest of the nations were as irritated as he was. Eventually Germany called the end of the meeting and they were all dismissed.

As Arthur began to pack away his notes, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned around and blinked at the nation smiling at him.

"Hey England!" Alfred greeted happily and he smiled at him, "How are you? I didn't get chance to speak to you before the meeting started!"

"I'm very well, America..." he said coolly and continued to pack away his papers and notes.

"Hey, I was wondering... do you wanna do something? We could get coffee, or tea."

"I'm sorry America, I have plans..." Arthur said and closed his briefcase with a sharp snap. He turned to look at his former colony and he smiled a little, "But thank you for the offer."

"All right! Well, see you around I guess!" Alfred beamed at him and left the room. Arthur kept his small smile and walked out the room too and to his car.

He drove home as fast as he could and when he got home, he was greeted with a hug from his boy. He looked down and ruffled the golden hair of his puppet Alfred. He picked him up and walked to the living room, where he sat on the armchair by the window. He set the puppet on his lap and picked up the book they were currently reading. He held him close and opened the book to the page where they left off the day before.

"Now then, where were we?"