America sighed as he absently drummed his fingers against the smooth wooden table, his elbow resting on the rim and his chin resting in the palm of his hand as his gaze wandered around the room, frequently shifting up to the clock. He just had to arrive early to the meeting, didn't he? Well, he was totally exhausted by the time he arrived, and he figured he would've been able to get some sleep, but that hadn't happened, and so he just sat there, by himself, the only person in the room, bored out of his head.
If only there was some kind of a café in the building...
America groaned before he let out a yawn and pressed his cheek against the cool surface of the table, slowly closing his eyes. Maybe he would've been able to fall asleep and take a nap for a while before everybody else arrived...
"Um, I'm sorry, is this where the meeting is supposed to be held?"
The sound of a quiet, shy voice instantly made America open his eyes and lift his head, turning it in the direction of the door to the meeting room. A bit of a surprised look came across his face when he saw a girl he had never seen before with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes, standing nervously in the doorway, holding some papers in her hand.
"I-I'm supposed to go to the place where there are...country personifications, I believe?" she continued, her voice edged in uncertainty.
America smiled before he stood up from his seat. "You came to the right place," he said as he approached the unfamiliar girl. "The meeting isn't supposed to start for another hour, so you came early."
He paused a few feet in front of the slightly nervous girl and eyed her up and down before a frown came to his face. "Are you a new country? I don't think I've seen you before..."
She anxiously nodded before she cleared her throat and dropped her gaze down to the ground. "I'm _____."
America smiled. "I'm Alfred F. Jones, but feel free to call me America."
She lifted her head to look up at him once again, the nervousness in her gaze disappearing as she let out a tiny smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, America."
America walked down the rather long hallway of the floor where the meeting had been held, covering his mouth with his hand and letting out a yawn. It seemed as if everybody's economy was crappy these days, and lately he had been surrounded by nothing but paperwork and hard times.
America turned a corner and was prepared to go out to a nearby McDonald's and get some dinner or something before he instantly stopped walking, his eyes slightly widening in surprise and filling with concern when he saw you pressed against one of the walls of the hallway a good enough distance away from him, and he was able to see, upon closer inspection, that you were crying into your hands.
The concern that was visible in his eyes became more evident. America hated seeing you cry, especially when he didn't know why, and he wanted to go up to you and help you feel better, just like he had always done whenever you were feeling upset. And that was exactly what he did.
"Hey, _____, you okay?"
At the sound of a familiar voice, you removed your hands from your face and lifted your gaze to look at America, finding him staring at you with concern prominent in his eyes. You instantly felt a blush come to your cheeks when you realized that he had seen you cry. "W-What are you doing here?" you asked before you crossed your arms and turned your head to the side, deliberately avoiding his gaze.
America gave you a tiny smile as he rested his hand gently on your shoulder, causing you to stiffen in surprise. "_____, what's wrong? Why were you crying?"
You were silent for a few moments before you shifted your gaze down to your feet. "Nothing's wrong."
"_____, please tell me," America said softly as he began to gently massage your shoulder. "A hero doesn't like it when someone he cares about is upset."
A few seconds passed in silence before you sighed, tears once again making their way out of your eyes and spilling down your face. "My boss yelled at me," you murmured quietly. "He called me useless and pathetic just because I couldn't finish the ton of paperwork he gave me. He said that the fact that my country is starting to get into an economic crisis is all my fault, and that if I don't improve things, he's going to find someone else to represent my country and...and take my job."
America frowned. "He can't do that!"
You sighed. "Well, according to him, he can." You let out something of a chocked sob before you wrapped your arms around America and buried your face in his shoulder. "I don't know what I'm going to do," you murmured hopelessly.
Briefly surprised at your sudden action, America sighed before he wrapped his arms around you and gently began massaging your back. "_____, it's okay," he said softly. "If it'll make things better, I can talk to your boss and tell him to give you a break."
You removed your head from America's shoulder and lifted your gaze to look up at him, your face barely inches away from his. "You don't have to do that. I'm sure I'll be able to handle this on my own."
America shook his head. "No. I don't want you to be upset and deal with this any more than you already did. I hate seeing you so depressed like this, and I promise I'll do whatever I can to get you out of it, okay?"
You let out a tiny smile before you rested your cheek on his shoulder. "Thank you, America. You have no idea how much this means to me..."
A tiny blush came to his face before he smiled and replied, "No problem, _____."
America sighed as he sat in front of his desk, continuing to browse through several websites on the Internet while music played rather loudly through his headphones. Some of his friends were going to be coming over tomorrow, and after that, all of them were going to be traveling across his country for two weeks. He knew he was going to be exhausted by the time the second week was over, so he wanted to spend this day relaxing as much as possible, and that was by sitting in front of the computer, listening to music, and eating junk food.
Through the noise of the music blasting in his ears, America hadn't even paid attention to the fact that his phone, which was on his bed, began to ring. After a few more rings, a beep was heard before a message was left, not that he was able to hear it, anyway.
"America...i-it's _____. It turns out that my boss was right about that depression I might've had, because now....I-I'm in a really bad one, a-and I don't know what I'm going to do. D-Do you think that...maybe you could come over and help me sort things out? I don't know how I'm going to feel better if I don't have anyone here to help me deal with this thing, a-and I trust you. Please come as soon as possible, because...I-I really need you...." That was the last of what had been said in the message before it ended.
And so it had gone unheard.
"I hate you," you growled as you kept your gaze locked with America's. "I hate everything about you. I can't believe that I was actually stupid enough to think that you actually would've come to my aid when I needed you the most. Well, it turns out that I was wrong."
You raised an arm and pointed your finger towards the front door, which was still open, as you continued to stare at America. "Get out," you said quietly but fiercely. "I don't even want to look at your face anymore."
"_____," America began a bit pleadingly. "Please, don't—"
America woke up from his restless sleep with a startled gasp, sitting up in bed and taking deep breaths with slightly wide, shocked eyes. What were those dreams that he just had? He dreamt that he had first met you, that he was comforting you after you had cried, and that you had yelled at him and kicked him out of his house. But in those dreams, he looked at you in a totally different way than he usually did. In those dreams, you had been more than a friend; rather, someone that he knew would've stayed by his side forever, maybe even more.
America continued to stare ahead of him, thinking about the dreams that he had last night. Why would he have had them? Why could they even have been so—
Suddenly, at that moment, it all clicked in his head.
He remembered. He remembered everything that had ever happened from the moment he was just a baby to now, even the events that occurred after the accident.
"Oh god..." America murmured as he brought his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, hardly able to believe that any of this was real.
He remembered when he was still a colony.
He remembered gaining his independence.
He remembered meeting you.
He remembered all of the moments he had spent with you.
He remembered how he comforted you, protected you, assured you that he would've always been there to help you.
He remembered the promise he had broken and how you had yelled at him.
He remembered getting into the accident.
He suddenly realized the painful feeling of not being able to remember who you, England, or anybody else were, and not being able to remember anything of his life before the crash.
And he instantly came to hate that feeling.
America's heart increased its pace once he realized that he had woken up in his old bed in his old room, but everything seemed different. You had cleaned everything out, making it seem empty and lonely. As soon as the events of yesterday flooded back into his mind, the surprise that was inside him was replaced by concern and distress.
"Oh god..._____!" America yelled before he sprang out of his bed and ran towards the phone, already prepared to dial your number.
Numb. You never remembered ever feeling so numb in your entire life.
You let out a moan as you continued to keep your chin rested on top of your pillow, which you were hugging tightly. It was almost 11 a.m. and it was raining, but you didn't care.
You didn't care about anything anymore.
After you had yelled at America and ran out of the storage room and slammed the door behind you, you no longer stayed at his house and no longer helped him unpack or clean out any of his things. Instead, you headed home, not even bothering to stop to think about what you were doing. Before long, you had arrived back home and almost immediately you ran up to your room and buried yourself under the covers, crying until your eyes ran out of tears.
Never in your life have you cried so hard. You were crying even more fiercely than the time when you first found out that America lost his memory. Not only were you surrounded by so many painful memories yesterday, but you also had to deal with the agony of explaining those memories to the person who lost them.
Never in your life had you missed America so much. All you wanted was him right next to you, his old self, telling you that everything is all right, that these past five months had been nothing but a bad dream and that he was still there to protect you and he always would've. But you knew that that never would happen.
The only wish you ever could've wanted was for America to regain his memory. But of course, that was never going to happen. You doubted that you were even going to be able to see him anymore after your outburst.
You just wanted to rewind these past five months and pretend like none of this has ever happened.
You let out an exhausted sigh and slowly closed your eyes as you listened to the gentle drumming of the rain pattering against the window. You used to love the rain, especially when you got the chance to play in it. There were certain occasions when you and America had played in the rain together, and though it had been somewhat childish, you never remembered ever being as happy as you were when you were with him.
You cursed yourself for having thought of past memories with America before you shifted into a more comfortable position on your stomach, though nothing seemed to be comfortable for you at the moment. You were about to fall asleep once again before you heard the abnormally loud ringing of the phone on your nightstand.
You groaned in frustration before you punched the pillow fiercely with your fist and reluctantly got up into a sitting position, frustration billowing inside you. You seriously didn't want to deal with anybody right now. You just wanted to lock yourself away from everybody for the rest of your life, drowning yourself in your own misery.
But instead, you reached out to grasp the phone before you turned it on and pressed it to your ear. You figured that it was probably England reminding you of an upcoming meeting or something like that, so you asked unwelcomingly, "Hello?"
"_-____, it's...A-Alfred..." a familiar voice said quietly.
"Alfred?" you asked, your eyes slightly widening in surprise. "What do you want? I never even gave you my number, so how did you call me?"
"That's not why I want to talk to you right now," America said. His voice sounded a bit different, a bit familiar somehow, but you paid no attention to it right now.
"Okay, so why do you want to talk to me right now?" you asked icily before you flopped back down on your mattress and closed your eyes, prepared to hang up and fall asleep.
"Listen, _____, I need you to come over to my house as soon as possible," America said seriously. "I need to talk with you about something important."
"Can't you see that I don't want to talk right now?" you asked harshly. "Are you really that incapable of reading the atmosphere?"
"_____, listen to me," America said, his voice starting to rise. "I don't care how moody you are right now. I just need to talk with you about something important. I promise you won't regret it."
"Oh, really?" you sneered. "What do you need to talk to me about?"
A few seconds passed in silence before America replied quietly, "I...I can't tell you that right now. Just...please come over as soon as you can, okay?" He didn't give you the chance to reply before he hung up.
You groaned in frustration before you tossed the phone on the floor and buried your face in your pillow. You really didn't want to get out of your warm, cozy bed, but if America wanted it, you had to. You just didn't want to deal with the pain of seeing his face at that moment, and probably not ever.
With a sigh, you removed the pillow from your face before you reluctantly climbed out of bed and prepared to dress.
By the time you were walking down the street towards America's house, the rain had stopped, the clouds had cleared out, the sun was shining brightly down on the neighborhood, making everything glisten from the previous rain, and the atmosphere was filled with a thick layer of humidity. You liked this kind of weather, especially in the spring, but right now you didn't seem to be feeling the joy and excitement that you always did when weather like this came around. You didn't feel anything anymore.
Once you arrived at the door to America's house, you were about to open it but paused when you saw a post-it note taped on it, right for you to see.
I'm in the backyard.
What a very interesting statement, you thought sarcastically before you opened the door and walked straight towards the back of America's house and towards the backyard. At least you wouldn't have had to waste your time searching for him indoors.
Once you arrived at the door that led out into the backyard, you paused before you hesitantly opened it, poking your head outside. "Alfred?" you asked softly. As soon as you took a brief look around, your heart rate increased when you saw him a good enough distance away from you, sitting on a bench he had in his yard with his back facing you.
Quietly, you opened the door the rest of the way before you stepped outside and closed it behind you. You turned around and slowly, quietly, approached America, pausing when you were standing directly next to the bench. "Hey," you said, causing him to lift his gaze to look up at you, and you pointed to the bench. "Your butt's going to get wet after sitting on the bench, you know."
America gave you a tiny smile before he shook his head. "I made sure to dry it before you came."
"Oh," you said with a bit of confusion, not sure why that was necessary.
A few moments passed in silence before America sighed. "So are you going to have a seat?"
"Uh...s-sure," you stammered before you sat down on the very edge of the bench, trying to keep as far away from him as possible. You noticed his intense gaze on you, and when you shifted your head so that you were able to look at him, you saw seriousness evident in his eyes.
"So let's get to the point, alright?" You crossed your arms before you narrowed your eyes at America. "Why did you think it was okay for you to bring me here even though you knew I wasn't able to control myself around you yesterday?"
America sighed before he ran a hand through his hair. "I actually have a question to ask you, first."
"Oh, here we go again," you muttered under your breath as you mentally rolled your eyes. "Fine," you said, putting your hands on your lap and staring down at them. "What is it?"
A bit of an uncertain expression briefly crossed America's face before he frowned. "About that guy in the picture we talked about yesterday...that was me, right?"
You whipped your head around to face him, your eyes glittering in anger. "I told you before that he is not," you said, sounding each word out loudly and clearly. "Are you really that dense that you aren't even able to—"
"You don't have to lie to me, _____," America murmured quietly as he continued to gaze at you, that same expression still on his face.
"I'm not lying!" you said loudly, the anger inside you only getting greater. "How many times do I have to tell you that the guy in the picture is not—"
"_____, stop," America said firmly before he reached out to grasp both of your wrists, cutting you off and causing you to stare at him with slightly wide, surprised eyes. A few long seconds of silence passed before he said quietly, "You don't have to hide anything from me anymore. I remember everything now."
"Wha...." Your voice trailed off so that it was barely a whisper as you continued to stare blankly at America, your mouth slightly open in confusion.
But instead, he only continued. "I remember everything of what happened before the accident and what happened after. Last night I had a dream of when I first met you and when I was comforting you after you were crying because your boss wanted to replace you. I remember how well we used to get along and how I got along with others, and I remember all the things we used to do together and how much you really meant to me." America paused as his gaze filled with misery and sorrow. "And I remember not helping you out when you were in a depression and you yelling at me and me getting into that accident and losing my memory, and now I know how terrible it feels not to remember any of my life before the accident and not being able to remember you and any of our past relationships. But now I finally have it back."
A few moments passed in silence as you continued to stare at America, meeting his depressed gaze in confusion with your mouth still hanging open. Finally, his words that have been bouncing around inside your head finally planted themselves inside your brain, and you let out one of the happiest grins you thought you were ever able to make.
"America!" you cried, tears of joy falling from your eyes before you extended your arms and practically knocked him over, wrapping your arms around him in a tighter-than-normal hug and burying your face in his shoulder. "Oh, I'm so happy that you finally have your memory back!" you gasped as you continued crying, tears coming out of your eyes like waterfalls. "You have no idea how happy I am right now that I won't have to deal with the pain of losing you! You don't know how much I've missed you, I've been away from you for so long and I've been so upset that I thought I wouldn't have been able to live with myself anymore! But now you're back, and...I don't think I've ever been as happy to see someone as I am right now!"
You continued clinging onto America and crying into his shoulder before you finally realized after a few moments that he neither was returning the hug nor saying anything in reply. When you removed your head from his shoulder and pulled away from him just enough so that you were able to look at him, you felt your happiness replace with concern when you saw him staring down at his hands with a look of misery, depression, and guilt. You had never seen him look so upset before, and the thought worried you.
"America..." you murmured as you gently stroked his shoulder, relieved to be calling him freely by his country name again. "What's wrong?"
"_____..." America said softly, his voice barely a whisper before he grasped your hand in his and lifted his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with desolation. "I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how sorry I really am for getting you into this mess."
You opened your mouth and were about to protest, but he cut you off. "What happened throughout these five months was all my fault, and now I realize how stupid and selfish I was when I ignored your message. I just want you to know that I would never possibly think of wanting to hurt you on purpose and I would've never done such a thing to you if I had known how much pain you were really in. If only I had known that not helping you when you needed it meant that the both of us would've gotten into this kind of mess, I would've came over to you immediately and helped you earlier. It's my fault you ended up going into a depression because of my memory loss for five months, and it's my fault that you had to kick me out of your house, and it's my fault that you had to spend so much time having me in your house and teaching me and coping with me all because of something I did. Everything that happened before I lost my memory was a mistake, and I want you to know that I never meant for any of it to ever...h-happen...."
America's voice cracked on the last words, and as you continued to stare at him, you found that his eyes were starting to glisten and tears were making their way out of his eyes. "America," you murmured softly, "you're crying."
He instantly shook his head before he closed his eyes and turned his head away from you. "No, I'm not. You should know by now that I don't cry." But as the both of you continued to sit there, America keeping his head turned away from you, you saw that his lower lip started to quiver and he let out a sniff before fresh tears made their way out of his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. Finally, he broke down into a sob, not even bothering to cover his face with his hands.
"______, I'm so sorry!" America wailed before he grasped your shirt and buried his face in it, causing it to instantly become soaked under the heavy amounts of his tears. "I'm sorry for getting you into this mess and getting you into a depression and not helping you when you needed it and losing your trust in me. I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you how sorry I am. Please forgive me...I'm so, so sorry...."
You looked down at America as he continued to cry into your shirt, feeling pity instantly wash over you. Throughout all of the many years that you had known him, you had never, ever seen him cry like this. You thought that he always was able to stay happy and optimistic, not break down all of a sudden because of what happened between the both of you.
You smiled before you wrapped your arms around America and gently stroked his hair. "Shh...It's okay, it's okay..." you soothed as you began rocking back and forth, still holding him tightly in your grasp. "It's alright, I forgive you...You don't have to worry about me being mad at you anymore. All of my anger disappeared as soon as I found out from Canada that you had gotten into a car accident."
A few more minutes passed as America continued to sob into your shirt, and during that time, you had begun to gently massage his back with both hands and your own tears once again formed in and fell down from your eyes as well. Finally, after what seemed like forever, America was able to calm down and compose himself before he broke away from you, sitting in an upright position. He briefly took off his glasses to wipe away any stray tears from his face before he put them back on and allowed his gaze to focus on you, and you gave him a tiny smile.
"_____," America began quietly and a bit shakily as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close just enough so that you were still able to properly look up at him and meet his gaze. "I just want you to know how much I love you. Throughout all this time, you've been a really great friend to me, and I started to see it as something more but I didn't want to tell you because I thought you were going to get mad at me. But losing my memory and getting it back really made me realize how much I cherish you and how much I never want to lose you. You mean everything to me, and I love you more than anything, even hamburgers," he added with a tiny chuckle.
You gave America a smile as tears once again spilled down your face, and you ran your hand through his smooth, soft hair. "I love you, too," you murmured. "I kind of loved you ever since you said that you always would've been here for me. After that I knew I could've trusted you with anything, and you were one of the only people who actually understood me and helped me in a way that just a friend wouldn't have done."
A bit of guilt filled America's eyes once again. "Well, you kind of lost trust in me after I didn't help you with your depression, right?"
You grimaced a little. "Y-Yeah...but that was only until I found out that you got in a crash. At that point, all I cared about was whether or not you were going to be okay. I didn't care about how mad I was at you or how I lost my trust in you."
America sighed before he drifted his gaze down. "_____, I don't know if I'll ever be able to say how sorry I am for putting the both of us through all this hell..."
You giggled before you rested your chin on his shoulder. "You don't have to. I forgive you for everything that happened and honestly, I'm just glad that you have your memory back. That's what matters the most to me."
America smiled as he lifted his gaze to look at you, the guilt that was previously in his eyes disappearing. "I'm glad, too. I don't know how different things might've been if I'd never gotten it back, and I...don't want to think about it either."
"What happened, anyway?" you asked as you lifted your head to look at him and frowned in confusion. "The doctors and nurses back at the hospital said your memory was irretrievable, so how were you able to get it back?"
America rubbed the back of his neck with his hand a bit uncomfortably before he spoke. "Well, after you yelled at me and told me that I lost my memory...well, when you were referring to me in that picture, I kept on hearing this voice in my head yelling at me to get out. It was familiar and a tiny part of me felt like I've heard it somewhere before, but I wasn't able to figure it out."
"Oh," you murmured. "After I had yelled at you when you came to me after my depression, I told you to get out."
"Yeah," America agreed. "After I got my memory back I figured that I must've been remembering that moment after you ran out of the storage room. Then when I went to sleep I dreamed about some of the moments we had together, including the one when you yelled at me, and when I woke up I was a little confused, but then it all clicked in my head all of a sudden and I remembered everything."
"Wow..." you muttered. "That was something I didn't expect to happen after I ran out of your house."
America laughed. "Neither did I, but I'm happy it did."
You looked up to meet his gaze and smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I am, too. Now I'm kind of glad that I got into that emotional breakdown in front of you, because I guess that was what was able to bring your memory back."
America smiled before he ran his fingers through your hair, staring down at you with vast amounts of love and affection. "Hey, _____, can I give you something?"
You frowned in confusion. "Give me what?"
A tiny blush made its way to America's face as he continued to keep his gaze locked with yours. "W-Well, it's a surprise. I-I don't know if you're going to get mad, though."
"I can't be mad at anything you give me, America," you said with a chuckle.
He let out a tiny laugh. "Well, okay. But first I'm going to need you to close your eyes."
"Uh...okay," you said a bit uncertainly as you obeyed, closing your eyes and waiting expectantly for something to happen. A few seconds passed in silence, and you were seriously thinking about opening your eyes and checking if everything was all right before you felt something warm and soft press against your lips, and your eyes instantly flew open in surprise.
That was when you realized that America was kissing you. You had gotten flustered and uncomfortable when he had been sleeping in the same bed as you a while before, but this was different. This was...new, and you never thought how much you would've enjoyed the feeling. This was your first kiss, and although you had been hoping for it before, you never expected that it actually would've been with America, especially after he had gotten into the accident.
Without having any other thoughts, you closed your eyes in contentment and leaned into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of America's warm lips pressed against yours. As soon as you were out of breath, you reluctantly pulled away, and the both of you stared at each other, the same form of love showing in your eyes, as you took deep breaths.
"America," you murmured after a few seconds of silence as you pressed your cheek against his shoulder. "I love you..."
America smiled before he ruffled your hair. "I love you too, _____. I don't think I can ever tell you how much I love you..."
The both of you continued to sit there in silence for the next few minutes, you savoring the moment of America's arms wrapped warmly around you. Finally, you covered your mouth with your hand and let out a rather loud yawn, causing him to laugh.
"Didn't sleep much last night?" he asked as he pulled you away from him just enough so that he was able to properly look at you.
You adjusted your gaze to meet America's, and you let out a tiny giggle when you saw that he raised an eyebrow and was giving you an amused smile. "I-I did, but, I just...slept a lot more than usual, and I'm kind of tired again after traveling all the way to your house."
"Well, I'll make sure that the both of us go to bed early tonight," America said as he gave you a wink.
You stared at him, your eyes slightly widening in surprise. "What do you mean 'the both of us'?"
America rolled his eyes playfully before he replied. "You don't actually expect to go home and spend the day alone in that boring, lonely place of yours sleeping by yourself when you can spend the day and the rest of the night together with me, right?"
You smiled. "Well, actually, I kind of did, but..." You rested your hands on his shoulders, "I like the idea of spending the rest of the day and probably the rest of my life with you, better."
America let out a laugh before he stood up and picked you up bridal style, prepared to carry you back into the house. For once, you let him carry you without complaining the slightest bit, and you wrapped your arms around his neck as you let him take you back inside.
You were hardly able to believe that just this morning you were drowning yourself in misery over America's memory loss when now you had everything you could've ever possibly needed. You already had a feeling of what was going to happen in the future, and you weren't complaining about it at all. America was going to resume attending the meetings representing himself just like before, Sophie was probably going to be taken out of her "job" as personifying the United States, and you figured that eventually, you were going to be packing your things and getting ready to move in with America.
Not that you actually minded doing that, anyway. You loved him more than anything or anyone else, and the thought of living with him again made your skin prickle with excitement. Though it wasn't going to be like it was a while back when he lived with you. Now you were going to be sleeping with him, cuddling with him, enjoying the feeling of living with him when you didn't have to care for him when he didn't need it and worry about his memory loss. All you had wished for was America to get his memory back, and now you finally had that wish. You knew that you weren't going to be able to put the past five months behind you, but they were a reason why you should've cherished and loved America even more than you already did.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, you were finally happy and your life was complete, all because America finally had his memory back.