Hallo everyone ouo/ How are you all?

So, I was listening to the song My Immortal by Evanescence the other day, and this popped into my head! So of course, I spent the past few days working on this story.

The description was getting too long, so I couldn't add this in there, but there is definitely going to be UsUk action later on in the story. Of what degree, I have no idea. America and England's relationship is going to change drastically, though, and maybe towards the end I'll add smut. Or not. Maybe I will just add so much fluff that we will all drown in it~ :D

Ok, well, hope you enjoy the 1st chapter~

oOo

"—I want my freedom!"

"No..."

"I am not your little brother anymore—"

"Please, no…"

"—I am becoming independent!"

"God damn it, no! I won't let you leave me—!"

England snapped himself up into a sitting position, panting heavily with cold drops of sweat running down his chest. It was… just a dream. No, not just a dream; a memory. A memory that would never leave him, one that would taunt him forever. The worst part was that the pain of the memory still lingered, and now it was stronger than ever.

It took the gentleman a moment to notice that sweat was not the only thing that trailed down his skin. Tears had managed to push their way out as well, and they caused him to crumble. He slowly brought his hands to his face, and he sobbed softly.

"C'mon, Arthur. That was years ago. I-it's not going to happen again. Just cheer up, ol' chap…"

The words he murmured to himself were weak, and they were hardly motivating or convincing. Who was he trying to kid? He was a mess. Even after he thought he had gotten over the whole mess referred to as 'The American Revolution'. Even after he had picked up the pieces of his broken heart and slowly began to mend it back together.

Why, after all this time, were the memories starting to return? Night after night, the personification was shaken by terrible nightmares of the war that had happened so many years ago. Why was it all coming back? Why now—?

"Enough moping, I have a meeting to get to. Can't have me being late, now, can we?"

As of that moment, England would have preferred skipping the meeting. He rarely skipped meetings though; he found such acts highly distasteful. He didn't even have a valid reason to skip. 'I just don't want to go'? 'I've been having these terrible dreams; therefore I have the right to lock myself in my house and brood over them all day'? Unacceptable.

So, the brit dragged himself out of bed and made himself presentable. He took a quick shower and changed into clean clothes, discarding his clothes from the day before into his laundry basket. He tidied up around his house, grabbing a scone to eat in the midst of it all, before finally heading out the door. Adjusting his tie, the blond decided to check over the meeting prompts and who all would be attending.

The half eaten scone that had been in his mouth fell to the ground as his glittering emerald eyes ran over the words over and over again.

Attending:

France; Francis Bonnefoy
Russia; Ivan Braginsky
China; Wang Yao
Canada; Matthew Williams
Great Britain; Arthur Kirkland
America; Alfred F. Jones

"Oh….shit."

"…gland! England! Are you listening to me?"

Said country looked up from his hands which were clasped together, resting on the table. Several others were staring at him, and one country in particular was glaring.

He cleared his throat nervously. "I'm sorry, what was the question?"

Russia sighed with irritation, shaking his head. "I was asking you how you felt about my proposal, about my ideas with the imports and exports. My ideas are good, da?"

"I-I'm sorry, Russia. I didn't get any of what you said…"

"What is your problem today, Mon Agneau?" France questioned, peering over at him with confusion.

"Wha- nothing is wrong with me, you bloody frog! And I am not your 'mon agnoo' or whateve-"

"Mon agneau~"

"Whatever. I don't give a bloody fuck how to say whatever it is you said in French. Can't you leave me at peace for once? Christ."

England went back to staring down at his hands for a few moments, expecting the meeting to continue on, but there was only silence. He risked looking up from the table and found everyone staring at him. He raised a brow to them, confused as they were.

"May I ask why you have not resumed the meeting and instead are all looking at me?"

"…It's just…you are not usually this out of it, aru. I've never known you to be inattentive, aru…"

"Non, you are also snappier than usual. Did something happen~?"

He felt the blood begin to drain out of his face. They were all beginning to get suspicious, asking questions he didn't feel comfortable answering. They would never understand how terrible he had felt, lately. How terrible it was to wake up to your world ending, every single day—

"Yeah, dude, what's your problem? You never zone like this. Or is it just because Russia is like, really boring? 'Cause then I'd totally understand!"

The obnoxiously loud voice resonated throughout the entire room, shaking the brit to his core. After successfully blocking out that particular person's voice for at least an hour, his selective listening skills finally failed him. He found himself glaring at the American, and sky blue eyes met his gaze.

"What? Did I say something? You are seriously out of it today, England." America chattered unknowingly. "I mean, you were just staring at the table and completely missed it when Russia accidently sat on Canada! It was pretty awesome, too. Then China was yelling at Russia, and—"

"Shut your filthy mouth, you bloody git!"

The words were out before he could stop them; not that he wanted to stop them. Several sets of eyes were watching him more intently than the moment before, especially the eyes belonging to a Mr. Alfred F. Jones.

"Dude…I was just telling you how—"

"No," England said, his voice starting to shake. "I must pardon myself for a few moments. If I return and am still feeling slightly under the weather, this meeting will have to be cancelled and rescheduled for another time."

Without waiting for any objections, he stood up, pushed in his chair, and left the room, his eyebrows knit together so closely that large wrinkles formed on his forehead.

"…it's not like it is going to happen again. It's all in the past. All in the past…"

The Briton attempted to convince himself of such things, but his brain ignored him. Nothing could distract him either. Not even thinking of frog-faced France helped; especially when he recalled how France had actually helped America—

"Unicorns."

England's eyes opened wide as the word slipped out of him. 'Yes, unicorns. They are majestic and rather friendly.'

"Fairies.
Pirates.
Scones.
…Scones?"

He found himself laughing at where his own thought process had taken him. It worked in cheering him up, though, and his facial features relaxed. His appearance became pleasant, no longer stiff, and overall he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Now that that's all taken care of, shall we return to the meeting room ~?"

Once he returned, they all decided to restart the meeting. Everything went smoothly from there, and fixed compromises were made. When it came his time to speak, he stood up and went over his papers, no sign of his earlier suspicious behavior. Once the gentleman had finished, every country began to gather their papers and leave.

"U-uhm, excuse me…" A quiet voice spoke up, though no one heard it.

"Oh…uhm….excuse me..!" Still, no reply.

"I-I haven't introduced my proposal yet..!" France swore that he heard something, but England brushed it off as him just being insane.

"Ah…..er…..will someone please listen to me?"

The voice grew loud enough to attract attention. Everyone stopped shuffling their papers and looked over at the red-faced person who was still sitting in his chair with his papers sprawled out. At first, a few other countries were confused at the sight of him, wondering who he was, when he had gotten there, and why he looked so familiar, but then France spoke up.

"Ah, Mon Cheri, when did you get there~? Or have you been there the whole time—ah yes, Russia tried to sit on you earlier, I remember."

The Frenchman's words only caused the young nation's face to grow more red. He…Canada, that was his name, was not usually one to get flustered over little things, but it was obvious that something about France was causing him to act out of character. The scene before him caused England to chuckle, and he shook his head, putting his folder neatly under his arm as he began to head for the door.

"You'll have to forgive us, Canada. It seems we are all a bit out of sorts today. If you have something really important you'd like to bring up with me, I wouldn't mind discussing it over a nice cup of Earl Grey." He flashed the Canadian a warm smile before excusing himself from the room.

Two boys sat on a bench, one sitting very still while the other one's legs were swinging back and forth. Between them rested a half empty bag of McDonald's and two drinks. Even after bluntly stating that he wasn't hungry, the American had insisted on buying him something. Such a waste of money…

"Alfred…wasn't Arthur acting strange today? Would yo-…..would you know anything about that?" Canada's soft voice slowly rose over the ramblings of other people in the park.

At hearing his name, the blond looked up from a hamburger that he had been ready to stuff in his mouth. He found the question odd at first, but he understood somewhat. It just so happened that he was usually the cause of the brit's distress, but he swore he hadn't done anything remarkable recently. "Dude, Mattie, I swear it wasn't me. I've hardly talked to him lately, so it can't be my fault."

His friend shook his head. "But did you see the way he snapped at you? Did you see his eyes? I thought they were going to burn holes right through you!"

America shrugged, taking a large bite of his burger followed by a few slurps of his drink. He thought on what was said, and it unsettled him. 'I can't even remember the last time he looked at me like that…so cold, distant, hurt even…Well, that one time he looked like that…but that was hundreds of years ago! We both got over it a long time ago, didn't we?'

He shoved nearly half of the hamburger into his mouth as well as a few fries, obviously frustrated. 'He's just being stupid. I am sure he is just getting upset over nothing. Stupid Arthur…'

"Hey, Mattie, let's go get some ice cream."

"W-what? You haven't even finished your lunch yet!"

"Sure I have, now let's go!"

"Wha—I told you that I'm not hungry! Alfred!"

'Arthur, what the fuck is up with you? Why did you look at me like you did that time?'

Mon Agneau- My lamb

Mon Cheri- My dear, my sweetheart, my love (In that ballpark xD)