When Things Can Only Get Worse

England awoke to a ruckus that he couldn't quite identify. He grumbled to himself as the bickering continued, wondering if this Alfred had finally developed a backbone. Only after he dressed and continued downstairs did he notice the voices he heard were not at all familiar. He entered the living room to find the place completely renovated. The furniture had been removed, and in its place was a stage and two podiums where the two young candidates he'd previously read about argued about the respective issues that would dominate the election. Ah, the primaries must be over, but he still didn't understand why exactly they'd been invited to the house. Surely, it was far too early for a public debate. He'd seen no evidence of any sort of campaigning, albeit he'd been preoccupied, considering the other guests currently residing in Alfred's home. Said person stepped inside and sat down at a desk presumably to act as a moderator.

"Thankfully, most of my respective guests like to sleep in so we have some time to prepare. We are entering the world stage. I will not have you ruin it with any kind of idiotic mudslinging. Do you understand? " Alfred asked. They both nodded in agreement without showing the slightest hint of resistance. Oh dear, he'd stumbled into the middle of a rehearsal. Once again, he was left with the feeling that things would be run in a less than democratic way.

"Alfred, are you sure this is the way you want to go about things? The point of an election is to elect leaders that represent the people, not hire the best actors," He asked, hoping Alfred would get the hint. He sported his best conquering smile and said,

"If you could leave questions until after the debate, I'd very much appreciate it." Sigh. He was getting bolder. Arthur would concede that, and yet, it only made him increasingly weary of his current predicament. For good or ill, Arthur's fate was directly tied to Alfred's.

"You can't expect Great Britain to respect us if we do not respect ourselves. If America is to survive on its own, we need to reach out to new allies and forgo our remaining ties to our previous overlords. Once we can understand and connect with other countries, we can continue to trade for what we need and live in peace without the need of Britain's vast empire and protection, only then can we truly be free."

As expected, the girl was hostile to Great Britain and eager to find support elsewhere. England glanced at Alfred who nodded absently and signaled for the other one to begin. He wasn't sure of what to make of his seeming indifference. Perhaps, he was trying to remain impartial?

"You speak of freedom without truly knowing what the word means. Rejecting our mother country's aid will only make us struggle when we should be thriving. Our friends are Britain's friends, her enemies, our enemies. You are a fool if you think we can force our own alliances when for decades we have stuck by Britain. We will inherit her enemies but not her friends if we abide by your wishful politics."

"Have they not met Britain? " he asked. It would explain why he'd been virtually ignored so far. Alfred gave him a knowing look.

"Technically, they are meeting you right now. I advised them to act as if you weren't present for the sake of realism. Besides, it's traditional for countries to be referred to as female, you know that. They'll be speaking to the people, not us. "

Oh right, he'd grown so used to people knowing who he was that the obvious hadn't occurred to him. Alfred then returned his attention to the candidates. His general mood shifting from indifferent to disapproving in an instant.

"You're getting too personal, Callahan. Please rephrase your response into a more civil tone. The debate is to inform people, not rile them up into a frenzy. I will not have this turn into a popularity contest."

"I believe the people need to know the character of their future leader" Callahan said, a hint of smugness filtering through his forever hopeful facade. And, just like that, Alfred's disapproval turned into general condescension.

"And, they will if you don't constantly deflect questions by insisting Ms Corazon is an idiotic idealist when in fact you are both idiotic idealists. You can't know what you will be dealing with until you get elected into office." Alfred said. Previously, stoic and in control, the girl immediately stuttered in surprise.

"Sir, you can't possibly believe that. We were chosen-" Ms Corazon insisted before Alfred continued his lecture with a vengeance.

"Because, people like you. Ultimately, you both have the same goal, just different ways to get there. Please don't forget that as we move forward," Alfred said. Hmm, England finally understood. America's sudden coldness. He was trying to be professional, but at most, he was alienating the candidates by treating them like children.

"Okay, America, I'll start again. I'm sorry I spoke out of term," Callahan answered, savvy enough to know that provoking America would only prolong the tedious debate.

"Show me you can answer my questions without getting defensive and everything will be just peachy," Alfred said, sporting a disarming smile that didn't quite mask his passive aggressive tendencies.

"I do not get defensive," Callahan said, unable to completely bypass Alfred's hostility.

"There he goes again," Arthur said with feigned impatience. He hadn't spoken in a while and if he had learned one thing, it was that Britain wasn't the forgiving sort. The boy turned a shade paler at his mild criticism.

"I'll make sure not to disappoint you this time," Callahan said to America although his eyes hadn't left him. Knowing Callahan was nervous. Alfred reassured him softly.

"I represent a lot of people. It's rather hard not to, just do your best."

"I'd never disappoint you, Alfred," Alejandra cut in, aware his attention was not on her. Alfred didn't appreciate the interruption.

"Wait your turn before addressing me. Callahan, you may speak. " The girl was baffled by stern reply as if she'd just been scolded by a good friend. The young man cleared his throat and did what must have been an impromptu rewrite of his previous speech. It wasn't too bad all things considered.

"Freedom does not mean abandoning all ties to who we are. Our new independence does not mean we stop being Britons. We must not reject our mother country's friendship. For so long, our enemies have been her enemies, our friends, her friends. There is no reason to struggle when we are thriving. So, ask yourself, do you want to thrive or do you want to starve? " he asked, glancing at America who proceeded to give him a sarcastic clap.

"Much better, I almost believed you were sincere."

Frustrated by Alfred blatantly insulting words, he stubbornly replied.

"I am." He was ignored. America asked the other candidate to proceed as if nothing had occurred.

"Ms Corazon, would you like to rebuttal?"

"It would be my pleasure" she said, once again assured Callahan wasn't anymore favored than she was.

"I still don't like her." Arthur muttered, the dislike strengthened by his ever growing survival instincts. He would not be safe if she was elected.

"Shush," Alfred said, putting a finger to his lips.

"People of these newly founded United States of America, we no longer need Britain to hold our hand. We do not need to be told who to play with and who we should avoid. These are our decisions now. With these responsibilities, there must be change. There is no need for us to dutifully pay Britain for our protection when we are the ones that do the protecting. We are warriors. It is time we started acting like the powerful nation we are. We fill not fall if we turn our back on Britain. We will finally stand."

For a moment, Alfred's purposely gruff exterior cracked, and the boy was in awe. As soon as this emotion appeared, America pushed it down and returned to a calculated calm that he'd been practicing all his life. It was troubling to say the least.

"Truly an excellent speech, but I'm afraid we'll have to make some changes. You sounded a bit too much like a war monger for my taste, and war is the last thing this country needs right now."

"Alfred, let them say what they mean. This is an election for heaven's sake, not your own personal puppet show," Arthur said, getting tired of this sham of a debate. They were allowed to have their own opinions, damn it. No matter how much one of the candidates filled him with anxiety about his future. The girl took his words the wrong way, naturally.

"He can't control you anymore." Alejandra said. After briefly glancing at her rage filled face, Alfred stood between him and Ms Corazon to act as a much needed buffer between them.

"And for now, neither can you."

"You could be so happy if you believed for one second you could stand on your own. Please tell me I'm not wasting my time on you because I refuse to believe in someone who doesn't believe in himself," Alejandra said, expressing the passion that had been bubbling under the surface since he'd heard her speak.

"That's enough," America said, even more forceful than he'd been when arguing about their choice of words. The tension was palpable.

"For heaven's sake, I was defending you," he grumbled, rather annoyed by her irrational dislike of him (although the feeling was mutual.) Of course, Britain more than likely had done more than enough to earn that kind of ire. He was worthy of such ire once; in some ways, he still was.

"Relax Britain, I've got this. Ms Corazon, please do not to interrupt again, and I suggest you let go of that murderous look in your eyes before I deport you and send a runner up in you place, " he said, threatening her with what seemed like rather illegal measures.

"Sir, I will stay out of your business until the day it becomes my business, and for your sake, I hope that day comes very soon,," she said as confident as she was stress inducing.

"Hold on, Alfred, you can't kick her out of the country," he said, expressing what he felt was a very valid concern. America answered flippantly.

"Yes, I can."

"Did you even read the constitution before you put it on the internet?" Arthur said, rather exasperated. He wasn't privy to all of America's various laws, but he was fairly sure he couldn't deport natural born citizens without cause.

"I made a few changes. We have such a high number of immigrants; it hardly seemed fair to bar them from the presidency for that reason alone. Ms Corazon wasn't born here. When she signed the contract letting her come here, she agreed that she could be cast out for any reason should problems arise. I can send her away whenever I wish. I like being able to nix someone before they become a problem. It helps me keep the peace."

"I suppose it's within your rights, but I still do not understand why you are insisting on such extreme measures in the first place."

"I will not make a spectacle of my country," America said with such a frightening conviction that England was starting to worry about his sanity again.

"Alfred, you can't control every single thing that happens. It'll drive you mad."

"I've been mad. Trust me, I'm fine. Now, if you excuse me, we were in the middle of a debate before you graciously offered your opinion, sir," Alfred said, subtly telling him to butt out.

"Very well, carry on, I'll leave my comments till the end," Arthur said, knowing better than to push while Alejandra and Callahan were present.

"See that you do, now, Arthur. Ms Corazon, we rely heavily on imports. Where do you expect to get the supplies now?"

"I think we are both aware of the black market in this country. Considering your current guest, perhaps its time to strengthen our bonds with Canada."

Again, Alfred seemed ready to explode, particularly at the mention of his brother. His sighed, disappointment evident.

"Please remember you'll be speaking to my people, not me personally. I can guarantee you nothing."

Ms Corazon had quite enough of Alfred's dismissals and came uncomfortably close to him, ready for combat. Arthur chose not to interfere since the boy had made it quite clear he wanted to handle this alone. He would enjoy seeing him squirm.

"I didn't come here to speak to an imaginary audience. I came to speak to you," she said. Their eager cooperation in this silly debate suddenly became far more understandable to England. They were looking to get under his skin and gain an advantage.

"Then, you grossly misunderstand the meaning of my existence," he said, sightly amused. Technically, whoever was elected would be his boss, not the other way around.

"Don't' pretend that you have no influence over the country. America is literally your name," she demanded. He wasn't in the mood to explain apparently because he immediately turned to Callahan and signaled for him to continue.

"Either way, you've made your feelings clear. Callahan, you've been quiet. Why don't you go ahead and say your piece? I assume you have similar motives for coming here,"

"Alfred, I'm not going to pretend I understand what you want. I can only tell you what I believe is best for you. Come the election, I'll know if you agree with the path I want to take you on or not. I came here because I know you're nervous about your future, and I wanted to put you at ease, but maybe, we should cut the rehearsal short since we both have a few questions of our own."

"Agreed, thank you both for indulging me. Help yourselves to breakfast. I will be right with you," Alfred said, looking somewhat relieved to no longer be on the spot.

"Don't take too long," Alejandra said. He smirked and replied rather brazenly.

"I'll take as long as I need, Ms Corazon."

"We'll prepare you a plate," Callahan said, proving again to be the less abrasive one.

"Will you be joining us? " Alfred asked. England had been observing in the background for so long that he was rather surprised when he was finally addressed.

"Yes, I think it's best I clear the air."

"I'm sorry if she made you uncomfortable. She's capable but overly ambitious and headstrong. The moment she saw you enter she sensed she was losing and decided to lash out at you," Alfred apologized, unable to hide his a smile despite her insolent behavior.

"Was she? You seem taken by her words," Arthur said, wanting a better idea where they stood. If she did win, he wanted to be well out of the vicinity before her actions negatively impacted him.

"How could you tell?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"I couldn't at first, but you've dropped several hints that her ideas appeal to you more than you led on." He shrugged, acting nonchalant despite the fact he couldn't look Arthur in the eye right now.

"I admit I've had similar thoughts before. "

"Have you? Should I be worried?" England said in a casual tone, despite his deeply rooted misgivings. Eliminating one uprising didn't mean more wouldn't follow, especially, if it were government sanctioned.

"No, they've all but vanished since the rebellion was squashed, but when she spoke-"

"It's as if she rekindled the fire."

"Yes." All the warning signs were present of a struggling nation, deeply dived and torn about its identity and principals. There was no way to know for sure if either sides sentiments were strong enough to produce a belated civil war. He should go, and yet, he was reluctant to leave this America alone until he found his way. He was stuck, and he could only pray the election would go well and an entirely new personally wouldn't steadily overtake his old one.

"Then, the thoughts haven't truly gone away."

"Arthur, I would never hurt you." So, he did understand Arthur's fears. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or worried that this was the first thing that came to Alfred's mind when the word rebellion came up.

"I can't tell you what to do, but I do know you're torn, and you don't disagree with either side, not really. You'll have a better idea of where you stand once your new government is fully established."

"Maybe, I am rushing things too much. I feel sick," Alfred said, returning to his desk to recover. Arthur patted him on the shoulder lightly, seeing a chance to delay a trip that more and more seemed to make America border line obsessive.

"We can postpone the trip to India if you are not feeling well." As expected, Alfred didn't like that idea at all, and immediately left his chair with a grin on his face in an attempt to look healthier than he was probably feeling.

"No, that won't be necessary. There is still plenty of time to get ready. This trip has been a long time coming. India and I have a lot to discuss," He said, his true motives very apparent. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"You mean, India and I have much to discuss."

"That's what I said." He answered absently. England wondered if America realized he'd made a mistake. He decided that he'd rather know up front what he was getting into.

"Are there things you are not telling me?"

"There are many things I don't tell you because they are things you don't need to know. I will coach you through the financial discussions. I will have a word with India, and we can move on to the next crisis," he joked, attempting to lightened the mood. He failed.

"Will these discussions put us in danger?" Arthur said, wanting a better idea of what he should look out for while he was there.

"No, India is a perfectly civil host. Be careful with your tongue, and there shouldn't be any problems," America said. There was no way to tell if there truly was more to it than that. For now, Arthur decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Despite the danger, he hadn't been led astray yet.

"I suppose we should join them," England said, changing the subject. His distaste for the idea must have been obvious.

"She doesn't know who you really are. Don't take it personally."

"I don't. I worry about my safety." Alfred frowned, clearly tired of the subject.

"This election won't turn me into a whole other person," he said, before entering the kitchen to entertain his guests;

"I'm not so sure," Arthur whispered, before entering himself. He could only hope my other half was having better luck in his world with his reality check.

As Alfred counted the cracks on the ceiling for the millionth time today, he could only rue the day he decided not to sleep in and go to a meeting for once. He'd skipped them so many times before. Why go on a day when the odds of getting kidnaped were abnormally high? He guessed only the universe knew for sure. Alfred hated the universe. It had been astronomically unkind to him lately. Once again, he was alone with Britain, and there was no one left to act as a buffer. Worse than that, there was nothing to distract either of them. They didn't have any leads.

"Maybe, my reward was supposed to be the sweet release of death," Arthur said, staring out the window while looking all too tempted to jump out of it.

"Don't say that. I'm sure we're just missing something super obvious." Just like that game that would kill you if you ran at the princess instead of walked, there had to be some loophole that was preventing things from moving along. Alfred just needed some clue as to what to do next and that would require some experimentation.

"We need to go out," Alfred announced, getting up abruptly.

"I refuse to leave the flat with you, without good reason," Arthur said, ignoring him. Apparently, the window was much more interesting.

"I need time to think," Alfred said which was somewhat true. He did think better while out and about, but really, Alfred was getting restless. He'd spent way too much of the last week here, fighting for his right to be himself and not the person Britain had thought he was. The last few days had done a lot to build up trust, but even now that they had developed an understanding, there was an underlying tension that was making it difficult to breath. Alfred wanted out.

"Think inside," Arthur said, unusually still if characteristically dismissive. Sigh, Arthur wanted to stay in, and if things continued the way they had, they would because Arthur was stronger, used to getting his way, and oh, just a little traumatized. Alfred wasn't having any of it today. Clearly, his counterpart wanted him to take the lead in Arthur's rehabilitation . He couldn't keep treating him like he was made of glass.

"Arthur, you need this. We're going," Alfred said, grabbing hold of his hand against his better judgement. He could easily throw him out the window from this angle. Keeping a tight hold on him, now that he had initiated contact, Arthur refused to look at him and simply responded.

"No." Slightly anxious, Alfred took a deep breath and tried again. He wanted to help him, not hurt him. That would require a level a patience Alfred wasn't used to expressing.

"Hey, listening to me has gotten us this far, right? Why don't you trust me for once?" he asked. Britain seemed to genuinely consider his reasoning before nodding. Good, now, all he had to do was get him out the door. Alfred pulled him up, and he cooperated. No struggle. No harsh words. Easy peasy. Okay, so, his earlier paranoia was probably unfounded. After all, this wasn't the first time they had gone outside. It would probably get easier as time went on, or at least, Alfred hoped so. Until, England said something that let him know he'd made a terrible mistake.

"Because, I'm not ten years old," Arthur said, smashing him against the fireplace. He laughed as if he had pulled a simple April fool's prank instead of potentially broken Alfred's jaw and arm. Words could not describe his utter hatred for this man right now. Forget it. Some people don't recover. Some people don't get saved.

"Look, I don't have to be here. I'm not your babysitter, and I refuse to relive a toxic relationship with a tyrant. So, if you want to spend the rest of your life inside this living room, go right ahead," he hissed, finally bolting like he should have done the minute he found out who this person really was.

"Fine, abandon me, just like Scotland," Arthur said, attempting to guilt trip him. Hell no.

"Hey, if Scotland abandoned anybody, it was me," he shouted, realizing just how bitter he was about that a second after he said it. Alfred didn't have the best luck with family.

"Because I'm so terrible," Arthur said, rolling his eyes. Alfred narrowed his.

"Yes, you threw me into a fireplace. The only reason you're still breathing is because it wasn't lit," Alfred said. Not expecting such a quick and thorough response, Arthur instinctively said the fist thing that came to mind.

"Get out of my sight." In any other situation, Alfred would have thought twice about what he'd done to get that kind of acidic rejection, but clearly, Britain was overestimating how much America cared for him at this point. It wasn't a whole lot.

"Gladly," Alfred said, opening the door to sweet sweet freedom which meant heading straight home to the red white and blue. Eh, he might stop by Scotland to tepee Colin's house first. The door was magically shut because of course it was.

"Where do you think you're going?" Arthur asked, knowing perfectly well where this conversation was headed. Alfred grit his teeth and pulled on the doorknob as hard as he could. It wouldn't budge. He hated magic.

"Home," Alfred said, turning the door with all his might. Something had to give.

"No," Arthur said, snapping his fingers. Alfred immediately lost his grip on the knob, and it became far too slippery to hold. He couldn't even pretend to pry it open now and any other attempts of escape would likely meet similar results. Alfred let himself fall to the floor and lean against the door.

"Real mature, Arthur, you asked me to leave, not five seconds ago," he grumbled, cooling off a bit. It's not like he could go anywhere, or maybe, it was the magic kicking in. He really didn't know anymore.

"I didn't meant it. You just irritate me,"Arthur said honestly. Did he really just say that? Alfred laughed, in a slowly going insane sort of way.

"The feeling's mutual, but I guess it'd be irresponsible to leave you in a world you don't understand or whatever. I can stay a little while longer," Alfred said, backing off. He could probably solve this in a week or two. Any longer and he'd jump out the window himself.

"What will happen if I can't go home?" Arthur said, sitting down to join him while showing some actual vulnerability today in the way his voice broke by the end of the question. Alfred should be weary of it, but he couldn't bring himself to suspect him.

"I will fund a machine that travels between dimensions and gets you home. Don't trap yourself in a box of despair, guy. I'll be here for you, just maybe not right here all the time," Alfred said, punching him on the shoulder lightly.

"That's actually very sweet, but I doubt technology could catch up at a rate either of us would find reasonable," Arthur said, sighing. Alfred smiled in spite of everything. At the end of the day, all either of them wanted was to go home.

"I guess not, but if it makes you feel better, I'm sure England's missing home just as much as you are and who knows maybe he's figuring out a way to get back right now," Alfred said, feeling optimistic despite the fact he couldn't feel half his face.

"I sincerely doubt that," Arthur scoffed, substituting coffee for alcohol. Huh, he must have found England's secret stash that he claimed not to have. Having that much caffeine in his system probably wasn't good, but Alfred wasn't in the mood to fight about it. At least, not until, he could feel something on the left side of his body.

"How come?" America asked, slightly curious. He had assumed that Britain had lost all communication with his world based on his last freak out with the portal.

"I haven't sensed any dimensional magic coming from my world since one was attempted at Alfred's residence and suddenly stopped. Either, he is no position to perform magic anymore or he doesn't want to come back, " Arthur said, assuming the latter while Alfred definitely assumed the former. Nothing stopped the annoying Brit from doing magic, not even a thousand Russia summonings. (He might be exaggerating a bit.)

"Damn, that's super worrying. We need to fail faster," Alfred said, getting up, grabbing hold of his hand, and pulling him up. His surprise attack worked, and Britain was forced to get up. Unfortunately, he didn't get much further than that.

"Fail what? Alfred, what are you doing?" Now that he was standing, America couldn't make him budge.

"Dragging you outside, duh," Alfred said, pulling his hand in vain. Arthur rolled his eyes and shoved him to the ground when he yanked his arm one too many times.

"I have the power of many nations. You aren't dragging me outside by force." Alfred eyes widened as it dawned on him why Arthur's strength greatly outmatched his. He wasn't pushing against one country but several, granted his title should have given him a clue, but . . .meh, whatever, he was going to play it cool. He rubbed his neck sheepishly, slightly embarrassed that this was the limit of his current planning abilities.

"It was worth a shot, but if you really want to stay inside and mope all day, it's your choice man," he huffed, giving up on him. Arthur's didn't like being given up on.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, interest somewhat peaked.

"Depends, what's going to make you happy?" Alfred asked casually. He didn't want to get slammed against the fireplace again.

"I prefer indoor activities," Arthur said, smirking triumphantly. He snapped his fingers and put a deck of cards on the table. Alfred glared at the deck suspiciously, a simple enough activity. Alfred got up and sat down on the couch, opening the fresh pack of cards. Arthur joined him.

"Ugh, fine, I'll support your shut in ways, but we have to do something fun," Alfred said, performing a few simply card cutting tricks, courtesy of his time spent in Vegas. Arthur clapped, mildly impressed. Alfred hated that he felt happy about it.

"Fun? What is this word you call Fun?" Arthur asked sarcastically.

"Don't you patronize me," Alfred said flatly. He was in no mood to indulge him.

"I frankly would rather we focus on getting me out of here," Britain said, sounding bored. Eye twitch, it's not like he had a psychic link to his double. America had no idea how to fix this, and he desperately needed time to quiet his inner rage, considering what had happened in the last few minutes.

"We aren't going to accomplish that if we're angry and frustrated and looking at it from the same angle, over and over again," Alfred said. He needed to take the pressure off before mulling the problem over again. The other Alfred was practically a foreign entity to him.

"Fair enough, what do you and England normally do for fun?" Arthur said as Alfred passed out the cards. They were playing poker right now. He could have easily rigged the game but chose not to. America wanted to distract him more than anything.

"We argue, we drink, and don't talk to each other until the next bi-monthly meeting forces us together," Alfred said, being brutally honest. The time he was spending with Britain would soon eclipse the amount of time he'd cumulatively spent with England in the last six months.

"That would make for a lovely afternoon if you hadn't destroyed the alcohol supply," Arthur said, still fairly bitter about the incident.

"If you'd leave the house, we could get more," Alfred said as annoyed as Arthur was bitter.

"Maybe later," Britain said with a shrug. America could translate well enough. They wouldn't be getting drunk anytime soon.

"How exactly has no one in your universe noticed you're afraid of daylight?" Alfred asked mockingly. Arthur wasn't ruffled.

"One learns to cope with the mundane necessities of the world and hide what society deems undesirable and defective, " he answered, raising his bet to two cookies. Alfred matched the bet. Truthfully, he would have been more invested if they were playing with anything remotely valuable. At the moment, it was literally child's play.

"So, basically, you pretended not to care and relied on trustworthy people to hide your secret for you for the sake of your vast empire," Alfred said, showing his hand, two kings.

"How did you guess?" he asked, surprised. He laid down an ace and a king, taking the four bits of sugar without much celebration.

"Eh, I may have known a guy who pulled a similar con. Anyway, you have to know by now that this place is reasonably safe," Alfred said, pushing the issue more while he handed out cards for the next round. He needed to get over this, not matter how many times he was slammed into the fireplace.

"Reasonably?" Arthur said, giving him a knowing look.

"With my luck, someone will try to mug us the minute we go outside and prove me wrong," Alfred grumbled, before checking his hand. Bleh, terrible hand, he wasn't even going to bother bluffing. Once again, Arthur was left with a another pile of cookies he wasn't going to eat.

"And, you expect me to trust your judgement, why? " he asked.

"Look if this drags on for months, you're going to have to interact with the outside world, or the outside world is going to come and interact with you. Eventually, your government is going to notice something off about you," Alfred said, all but admitting that he didn't think that problem would be resolved anytime soon. He'd rather Arthur get accustomed to his new living arrangement before people started asking questions. Britain had a tendency to panic when a situation overwhelmed him. America could already think of ten scenarios which would end very badly if the pattern continued.

"Then, don't let this drag on for months. Tell me, why do you think I'm still here? If you were in his position, what would you want from me?" he asked. Alfred felt uncomfortable answering. They weren't the same person, but he could guess all to well.

"You promise not to get mad at him?" Alfred folded again without checking his hand, steadily losing interest in the game. Arthur frowned.

"It's far too late for that."

"Will you at least promise to hear him out when you make it back to my personal dystopia?" he asked, doing his best not to inherently doom his other self when Britain returned to his world. Granted, his double had made his choice when he trapped Britain here, but he sympathized enough to try to buy him some time before the inevitable confrontation.

"If this is what I have to do to get you to cooperate, then, sure, I will let him explain himself before he pays for his insolence," Arthur said, cracking his knuckles. The cards were abandoned in favor of television. It was some comedic game show.

"Yeesh, I wonder why he isn't in a hurry to bring you back home," Alfred snapped.

"Of course, he isn't bringing me back home. He's probably grooming your Arthur to be my replacement as we speak," he said, deadly serious. America had guessed as much earlier that Britain believed this, but he found himself defensive. Why hadn't the other Alfred said anything about England in his communications, unless Arthur was being unusually cooperative?

"Arthur would never go for that." Alfred said stubbornly. The old man was set in his ways. He'd never want to stay in a world that . . . had everything he wanted.

"And, yet, he's made no move to escape," Britain said, daring him to disagree. Alfred crossed his arms and focused intensely at the chattering men on screen.

"He could be captured."

"Or is that simply what you want to believe?" he asked. America chose not to dignify that with a response.

"I've had some time to think what the other conditions could be. You've been getting rewarded for cooperating with me. Logic dictates; the rest of the conditions are also things you would normally never do, but Alfred might find desirable for you to emulate," Alfred said.

"That actually makes a fair amount of sense," Arthur said, once again surprised by his problem solving skills.

"As far as America's motivation, we've already solved that," Alfred said.

"We have?" Arthur asked, clearly having tuned out Alfred the day before yesterday in favor of hanging out with Scotland.

What the other Alfred wants isn't to see you eliminated, it's time," Alfred reiterated anyway. They hadn't really nailed down the specifics when he'd asked about him. Arthur might be more helpful today without his long lost brother's double around.

"Yes, but time for what exactly? Who knows what I'll come back to if this goes on much longer," Arthur said. His irritation masking his obvious fear of the unknown. This probably wasn't the first time this thought had crossed his mind.

"A democratically run nation?" Alfred answered cheekily.

"Don't even joke about that, he wouldn't be ready for such a thing," Arthur said, sounding surprisingly worried.

"Why not?" Alfred asked. His revolution had been a piece of cake, sort of. In the grand scheme of things, despite Canada's constant showing off about asking nicely, his revolution had been relatively bloodless compared to others. With Britain absent, he could see the transition going very smoothly for his other half.

"Have most of your universe's revolutions been bloodless?" Britain asked.

"No, but-" This revolution could be.

"Neither have ours," Britain said, cutting him off.

"But if you helped him along instead of pushed him aside, maybe, you two could usher in a perfectly stable and progressive nation to a world that I assume needs that kind of perspective as much as ours," Alfred said, suggesting something that he tried not to think about too much for the sake of his sanity and general self esteem. Technically, despite Great Britain's influence, Canada and Australia hadn't exactly turned out terrible.

"Or, a bunch of unsavory nations will swallow him up and destroy what I spent centuries building," Arthur said, definitely against the idea, for now. Alfred was good at playing devil's advocate.

"So, you're saying Alfred had no involvement whatsoever building his own nation?" he asked.

"I never said that," Arthur said, visibly angered by the accusation. Good.

"Has he never had to defend himself or others in combat?" America asked, continuing to bombard him with questions in hopes of defeating him with superior logic.

"As part of a fairly large empire, I have asked for his participation in wars that effects us all as a whole, but he's never had to defend his borders from a large outside force," Arthur said, getting nervous. Hmm, he wouldn't have guessed that, considering the time difference, not to different from how he started out.

"Are you saying that his knowledge of combat and infrastructure goes away as soon as you give him the ability to run things on his own?" Alfred asked, giving him a devastating smile. He had definitely won this argument already.

"No but-" It was his turn to cut him off.

"Would you let your ally that you raised since he was this tall fall into enemy hands ?" he asked, gesturing the size he imagined he was at the time. (He was probably shorter.) Arthur sputtered, suddenly very flustered.

"Of course not," he shouted. America shoved a cookie into his mouth. Revenge is delicious.

"Then, what's the problem?" He spit out the cookie.

"I'll sleep on it," Arthur said, both aware he'd been had and very self conscious about how his new relationship with the America in his world should proceed. He wasn't quite convinced, but America had given him something to think about and that was good enough in his book.

"We're getting off track. Name three things Alfred has always wanted from you," Alfred asked simply. He needed to make a psychiatric profile of his current foe.

"Attention, approval, and privacy," Arthur listed fairly easily.

With that in mind, Alfred came up with a very simple idea.

"Let's send him a letter, letting him know you understand why he did what he did. Maybe, he'll offer us a clue," Alfred suggested.

"Now, you're just being ridiculous," Arthur muttered, very put off by the idea. He was still very hurt Alfred would even put him in this situation in the first place. He'd have to swallow his pride if they were going to get anywhere.

"Don't think about what he's done to you. Pretend, you've been a long vacation. How would you start? " he asked.

"Dear Alfred, if you want to live, I suggest that everything be just as I left it before I was rudely tossed into this joke of a universe, " Arthur said. Yeah, he wasn't writing that.

"Dear Alfred, I hope you are well and enjoying having the place to yourself."

"He wouldn't be by himself. I'm sure some part of the extended family if bothering him," Arthur interjected.

"If you were a little less hostile, I wouldn't have to make stuff up. Let's see. I reconnected with my long lost lover, Francis. We wed on the 'morrow," Alfred said, fully expecting to be censored. Arthur snatched the paper.

"Give me that, you are terrible at writing letters," he said, adding fire to the fireplace with a snap of his fingers. He chucked Alfred's letter in the fire and began writing his own version on another piece of paper.

"Dear Alfred, I have received your previous letter. While I was shocked by its contents, I have found ways to cope. While the Alfred of this universe and I had a rocky start, he has been very helpful in helping me see what I couldn't see on my own," Arthur said aloud.

"Wow, that's super nice of you to say," Alfred said, very pleased by the letter so far. If the other America was going to cooperate, he had to feel that Britain was no longer a scary obstacle in his way.

"Don't let it go to your head. This isn't for your benefit. He has believe everything is going splendidly if he's going to give me anything other than a cryptic response." So, he was equally aware of what was at stake. Strangely, it made him feel worse for his other self, getting tricked by a family member wasn't fun, and the fact he was helping didn't help his conscience much. Hopefully, he was savvy enough not to give too much away, too soon.

"Then, by all means, tell him how awesome I am," Alfred said jokingly.

"Alfred wants you to know how awesome he is," Arthur said. He immediately scrambled for the paper. Alfred wanted to make a better first impression than that. Britain held his hands in place.

"Relax, I would never write that. It doesn't even make sense with what I started with. No need to get embarrassed," he said, reminding him of how easily his instincts overtook his common sense sometimes.

"Oh right."

Britain spent a good deal of time, pondering what to write before painstakingly crafting the remaining two thirds of the letter.

"I've wronged you and taken you for granted. You've done so much for me, and I've repaid your loyalty with contempt for your dignity. I hope you can forgive me. I've only begun to understand upon reflection how much my presence has utterly decimated your potential, " Arthur read aloud, chocking up a bit. He really didn't know what to say to that.

"That's um good," he stated dumbly. Arthur nodded barely registering his feeble response. Wiping tears from his eyes, he continued on.

"I've met three of your conditions but do not expect to meet any others. I'm afraid I might not be capable of it. How can I possibly connect with someone who represents everything you could be: strong, happy, free, when I've completely failed you. If you truly wish for me to return, please, give me some small clue of what I must do to earn your trust once again.

Sincerely, Arthur, " he finished, more than a little glum.

"It's perfect. He has to respond to this," Alfred said, confident the honesty of the letter would lower America's guard. He was still a little teary eyed.

"Perhaps," Arthur murmured, sealing the letter in one of England's fancy butterscotch scented envelopes before sending it away in a magical blitz of green fire.

A few seconds later, another envelope appeared , similar to the one Alfred received a few days earlier. Arthur opened it, slowly with a very apparent sense of dread. He stared at the paper in disbelief and let it slip through his fingers.

"You have got to be kidding me," Arthur said, slamming his forehead on the desk. Alfred peeked over his shoulder and read the letter's brief contents.

"Be happy."