The Second Coming

"Arthur?" Alfred leaned over his chair as he tried to read, "Can you tell me that story, again?"

"I'm trying to read, Alfred," Arthur answered, keeping his eyes on his book.

"Come on, Artie!" Alfred pleaded, tugging on his arm and shaking his book in the process.

"Alfred, I told you- oh, alright! Just knock that off," Arthur sighed, closing his book and setting it aside with regret. Alfred cheered and climbed up into his lap, grinning widely, "Which one am I telling, now?"

"The one about the really big guy," Alfred answered, "Rome, I think."

"Again?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Alright. Get yourself settled."

"Yippee!" Alfred cheered, moving to lay against Arthur. The elder nation placed a hand on his head, petting his hair with a fondness in his eyes.

"Once upon a time," England began his story, leaning forward and gesturing with his hands to draw the child into the epic, "In a land across the sea, there once lived a mighty nation that ruled over all the land from Greece to the far reaches of France and even beyond that. This nation was know as-"

"Ancient Rome!" Alfred cheered.

"That's right," Alfred chuckled, "You see, Ancient Rome was a powerful nation who conquered many smaller ones as he extended his territories. He gave them their law and their currency. He built roads and aqueducts and all forms of advancements for the time."

"What's an aqueduct?" Alfred interrupted.

"It's sort of like a water system so that they could get it more conveniently," Arthur answered, "But you know what made Ancient Rome so great?"

"He was bigger than everyone else?" Alfred guessed.

"Well, yes, but that's only half of it," Arthur said, "Because the great thing about Rome was that even if you lost against him, it wasn't really so bad. You know why that was?"

"Why?" Alfred asked.

"Because he let the countries be themselves - Adopted some of their culture, even, and then brought art and culture and technologies everywhere he went," Arthur explained, "So that, once you were Roman... It was almost hard to imagine life before it."

"Wow," Alfred grinned, "He sounds like a hero."

"He is to many," Arthur replied, "Any European nation worth their salt wants to be just like him."

"I'm gonna become Rome, again, someday!" Alfred hopped to his feet, proudly, "And I'll be the best nation ever!"

"Sure you will," Arthur caught him around the waist to keep him from running off, "But right now, this little English colony needs a bath."

"No!" Alfred tried to wiggle out of his grasp to no avail, "Lemme go!"

------

Alfred stood on the edge of a balcony, leaning heavily on the railing. That memory was long since past, but it still bothered to resurface itself on occasion, leaving him considering a dream he had almost forgotten. The year was 2021 and, despite the United Nations best attempts, things were looking bleak across the world. Russia had been on the rise for some time and was slowly inching towards rebuilding a grander civilisation. Alfred was anxious, to say the least, and was had been waiting for permission to move in them. Ever the trigger-happy one, he was certain that a few wars and maybe a little nationality booster would surely set everything right. He might even gain a few territories in the whole bargain.

Arthur joined him then, carrying two cups of tea, one of which he handed over. Alfred accepted the cup with mumbled gratitude before taking a sip. The sugar and milk took up more of the drink than the tea itself did, but Alfred didn't mind. The warmth in his hands spread throughout him and fought against the cool breeze of April.

"I don't see why I even bother giving you tea at all," Arthur mentioned, no harshness or sarcasm in his statement, really. He mostly just seemed tired, "You might as well be drinking sugar. Isn't that how you make some of the drinks over there? <i>KoolAid</i>, is one of them, I believe."

"That stuff is the bomb," Alfred replied, finding himself sucked in by the whole calm of the atmosphere, somehow, "But only if you get the real packets. All the generic ones taste like crap and you have to add half a bag of sugar just to get rid of the awful taste of it."

"I'd rather just not bother," Arthur stated.

"It's supposed to be cheaper."

"Than half a bag of sugar?"

"Haha. Guess not." A silence fell over them for a moment. Alfred stared out at the pink sky, knowing it would be dark before either of them realised it. Arthur sighed and he turned his head just enough to see him out of the corner of his eye.

"Russia left the UN as of today," he finally said, a frown settling onto his face. His tea remained untouched, serving as an indicator for the gravity of the situation, "France was speculating about whether taking the flag down at the building would be wise or not."

"The people are going to know whether or not we do so," Alfred replied, "Unlike the rest of you, I don't censor my news."

"Yes you do," Arthur turned to him with a glare, "Don't give me any of that bloody nonsense. You are just as guilty as any of us."

"I may have a bit of propaganda," Alfred replied, "But I'm very good about not straight up lying to my people."

"You're hotheaded," Arthur rolled his eyes, returning to look at the setting sun, "And rather arrogant."

"I didn't get to become a super power by appeasement," Alfred snipped.

"That is true." Arthur's smile was tight, bordering on the edge of a grimace. He'd received the jab clearly and was doing his best to keep from letting Alfred know it had stung a bit. He didn't need to say anything, though; the younger nation was already smug enough without it.

"So... When am I sending troops over?" Alfred wondered, taking another, much larger, swig from his cup.

"You aren't," Arthur replied, simply, "At least, not by order or approval of the UN."

"What do you mean, I'm not?" Alfred demanded, "We just gonna let him walk all over us like Germany did?"

"It's not like that," England corrected, "We just don't want to throw ourselves into an unnecessary war, that's all. We should wait it out... Perhaps he'll realise what a poor decision he's made and come back."

"I can see you've learned a lot," Alfred scoffed, "We've gotta sock him in the jaw before he gets to us."

"That seems rather brash," Arthur disapproved.

"You said the same thing about the rebellions that rose up back when you were still in control of me," Alfred mentioned.

"You dressed up as an Indian and pranced around throwing tea in the harbour," Arthur reminded, "Perfectly good tea, mind you."

"Oh, like this?" Alfred challenged, tipping his cup and letting the remaining tea spill over the edge of the balcony. Someone cried in outrage below.

"Now look what you've done," Arthur scolded, "You've gone and upset the gardener. Why do you have to act like such a child?"

"Why do you have to act like you're my mother?" Alfred quipped, "I already got my independence and you've been all but denying it since I have. You still call me the Colonies every now and again, for fuck's sake. And I'm one of the lucky ones? You never even really wanted Matthew besides to rub it in France's face and poor Peter was all but rejected by you. It's fortunate that Finland and Sweden have a heart else the poor kid might have starved to death..."

"Alfred-" Arthur warned.

"Don't Alfred me," he set his cup on the balcony, pointing a finger at Arthur, "I'm my own country and I'll damn well do what I want. I'll take my tea how I want, I'll screen my media how I want and I'll start a war with Russia if I want! Fuck you and your massive ego, Britian. You stand all tall and mighty on your high horse while the rest of us are actually fighting in the mud and then you think you can just waltz by and tell us what to do? Like hell."

"America... Alfred!" Arthur called after him and he turned and stalked away, "Alfred F. Jones! You get back here right this minute, young man!"

"No! Fuck you," Alfred flipped him off before walking through the door, slamming it shut behind him. Arthur stared at it for a moment before turning around, once more, finally taking a sip of his tea.

It was cold.