London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady

A USUK FANFIC

Note: THANK YOU! THANK YOU ALL ALOT! Over 100 followers, I can hardly believe it! You don't know how happy it made me, but this is how I repay you? By being gone for so long. . . ! Really and honestly!

And not only have I been gone, I give you this chapter that I think sucks, which I have been working with for so long and that is only now finished!

My writing flow have been sad lately, but I hope it will get better...

Anyhow, here is the next chapter, and after this it will get a lot more serious! Both good and bad...

Please, I hope you will enjoy, nevertheless!

Chapter. 10 The Announcement – We stand as One-

Part 1.

The day that followed his and America's bosses visit was dreadful. France and Canada had thought that they'd done them a favor by not being present by his side that morning, allowing the two of some privacy to sort out their differences and set things straight, once and for all.

But the seemingly kind gesture had back fired, and that with all its might. The two English speaking nations had rarely spoken at all since the early morning hours. It was then when the American had knocked on his door and had after that, very awkwardly, stuffed a big bouquet of roses into his arms with a red face, to then only a second later run out, wide eyed, in search for a vase, leaving the Brit speechless and in shock.

And this awkward silence had been going on for several hours now, none of them knowing what to say or what to do. The American had been practically restless, not able to sit still for very long. Now and again he got up only to start pacing around the room, and to tend to the flowers that stood by a round table a few feet from the bed.

Dark bags shone clearly in the soft morning light under the Americans glasses, and England was positive he didn't look any better. Sleep hadn't been kind to him, just as he had predicted, and he felt exhausted.

England noticed all this, but he had especially noticed one thing in particular. The American never met his eyes; not even once since he got there.

That revelation made his stomach hurt, and him feeling cold all over. "He cannot..." he thought sadly. "He cannot even look me in the eyes…"

Just as he tried to curl into himself for comfort he suddenly felt a bolt of pain struck through him, and he started to cough violently without any warning.

The sudden change of events made the American jump before he all but threw himself at the Brit, nearly tipping the table in his haste.

"England!" he yelled franticly, panic clear in his eyes. "England, are you alright?" he asked, as he grabbed the other's shoulders trying to get him to sit up straight, as he was bent over while the coughs rang through him uncontrollably.

England felt his eyes starting to water as the coughs never seemed to want to end, and only intensify.

It hurt so much with every second that passed, and he could faintly hear and feel the American's panic stricken voice and comforting pats on his back, but he was in no shape to answer. In a flash, his eyes widen when a very loud cough came, and he could feel that something was coming up, threatening to escape his mouth. He quickly covered is mouth in fear, but he couldn't escape the inevitable. A second later he could feel a some kind of liquid escape him, and he felt it pour down between his fingers that desperately tried to keep it in.

America acted in a very controlled way then, as the turn of events changed. He quickly got a hold on a bowl that was on the side of the bed and placed it in the small Brit's lap. The clear and translucent liquid was thick, and seemed to be some kind of mixture of saliva and expectoration.

As the Brit painfully heaved up the strange liquid, tears fell slowly down his red cheeks, as every time he felt a wave of pain when he was forced to cough up the substance in between small breaks.

When he finally seemed to be through with it all, he curled up and into himself, as he was about to do before it all happened, and hid his face from view for the American nation.

America watched patiently throughout the others struggle, and it pained him to see the other in the pain he was in. All he could do for the other, to aid him, was to continuously caress the others back slowly in a comforting manner. When the Island nation stopped heaving, he slowly put the bowl down onto the floor, as he watched the other drew away from him, and curling up in defense, just like a hedgehog would do when faced with a car.

It hurt America to see how the other turned his back on him, but he knew the other all too well to know exactly what he was feeling as of now.

The former empire was clearly embarrassed, and to show another person his weaknesses or being vulnerable in front of someone was the last thing his former guardian wished to do or be; that he knew.

America had really only on one occasion seen England in such a state before this incident, and that was years ago. The memory of that evening was not a pleasant one and it was not one of his best memories.

An embarrassed England was, on a normal day and occasion, quite easy to handle. But this was different. This was more than embarrassed; it was embarrassment laced with shame and fear.

He could clearly see by the way the other was curled up so protectively and how his shoulder seemed to shake, by only faintly as if he was cold, and how his fists were clenched firmly on the blanket surrounding his delicate form.

Slowly, very slowly, America got closer to the curled up ball of white and embraced the one inside softly. He could feel the other tense up remarkably, but when not seeing any flying fists being thrown at him, he only secured his hold on the other in a firmer embrace, while resting his head on the others shoulder.

After sitting there for several minutes, it wasn't after a lengthy while that he could feel the other shuffle around beneath him, and then hear a muffled but soft voice speak up from under the blanket.

"I'm sorry." A weak voice pronounced, as a ruffled head of blond and emerald eyes peeked out from its confined, still avoiding the others gaze.

America, whose eyes had widened on hearing the other talk after so long in silence, couldn't help but wonder why the other felt the need to apologize. Just as he was about to embrace the other once more, and question his statement, the others next words that came from his mouth took him completely off guard.

"Why haven't you left already?"

With wide eyes, the Americans could do nothing but stare at the other, trying desperately to grasp what the other had said. He was just about to frown, and ready to lecture the other for his crazy statement when he got a quick glimpse of the other's eyes, that where still on anything else but himself.

Green eyes showed a vulnerability he'd never seen before, sadness so much deeper than that of when you shed bitter tears.

The younger nation could feel a pang of guilty creep through, as he monitored the other with uncertain blue eyes.

"Artie…" he began slowly, as he tried to reach for the others arm to grab it, only to meet thin air.

This did, however, upset the youth remarkably. In stubborn anger, he firmly took a hold on the others two wrists, squeezing them hard as he tugged the Brit's small form further and closer to his face.

"Now listen here…!" he said, his voice serious and without any hint of playfulness to it.

As cerulean blue eyes burning into shocked green, The Island nation had a hard time grasping the sudden change of events, and the Americans sudden change of attitude.

When America was sure that he had the Britons full and outermost attention, he loosened his grip slightly on the others hands.

"You should know, or I think you should, after yesterday," he trailed off, never breaking the strong hold he had on the other's eyes. An intake of breath went unnoticeably by the other, but by the one guilty of it, it felt like his whole frame was rocking and shaking.

"I wouldn't wish to be anywhere else right now, or with anyone else!" America said sternly, tugging the other closer by the still caught slender wrists, so close that their noses was mere inches away from touching.

A quiet startled yelp was heard from the smaller male, as his eyes widen further as he could feel the Americans breath grazing his lips and mixing with his own frantic breathing.

America watched on quietly, his eyes never wavering from its spot, not breaking eye contact. He watched and noticed, rather amused, that the other look very much like a deer caught by headlights the way his slightly watery eyes stared into his, fear so great it was almost slightly unnerving. Did he still not believe him?

For a moment, America felt completely crestfallen; his face mirroring a defeated expression as he finally broke their intense eye contact, breaking their silent bond.

But, as the hero and great nation that he was, that soon ran out in the sand as he could feel his blood boiling slightly in anticipation, making his next action a much bolder one than he had ever thought of doing before.

Yes, for never had he intended for their first real intimate get go to go like this; but life and faith seemed to go ways one can't decide in advance.

Because it wasn't before he felt the others lips on his that the reality really sunk in. That he kissed England. That he was kissing England! His head screamed at him to run away to break this sudden contact, but his heart told another story. Because feeling the others lips against his and tasting him in a way he had always secretly dreamed of, he felt nothing but bliss. He felt complete.

This revelation made him bolder, and his heart sang when he realized that the other was not moving away from him. With this new confidence, he pushed further as he coaxed the Brit to allow him to deepen their sudden kiss.

It wasn't until then that the other finally got over the first initial shock, and finally let all his highly protected walls on his heart scatter, along with his doubt. England could do nothing to hold back the tears that began to fall like rivers down his red cheeks as he opened up his mouth to allow the others tongue access.

Though it was a slow and tender kiss, the emotions that flowed out was nothing but raw yearning and passion.

They both could feel how much love they both held for one another, and how much they wanted each other not only emotionally but physically too, but for now they didn't know how to initiate that kind of emotions.

The two English speaking nations felt content in their current state; their own bubble of much longed serenity. The only thing that was said for hours to come was when America gently wiped away the remaining tears from England's face after their first kiss and the Island nation said the words he had always dreamed of hearing.

"I love you too, America."

Later that day, the big and warm smiles of two people watched their respective brother and old friend sleeping soundly and deeply; hands together and fingers intertwined. As they left the room, an echo of and whisper vibrated through the late evening air;

"Enfin, finalement…"

Finally, at last.

Note: I someone want, they can send wishes of what they wish and want to happen from now on and I might intertwine them into the story! It can really be anything! Don't be shy! :)

Please, R&R? I do like to know what you guys think!