You lay on your bed one morning a few days after the last meeting, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about what you were going to do next with your life. Apparently, it seemed like there was no possible way to bring America's memory back. After all, if looking at the presence of all the other countries that he once used to interact with wouldn't help him get even the slightest remembrance in his head, then what will?
You sighed as you continued to stare up at the ceiling, your hands folded and resting comfortably on top of your stomach. You have been lying there right after you had your breakfast seemingly a while ago, but already over an hour had passed and you still made no attempt to do something productive that day. Thinking about the past and figuring out what you were going to do with your life was all you ever seemed to spend your time on lately. It wasn't like you had anything better to do, anyway.
By this point, you weren't as upset over the loss of America's memory as you had been before. You no longer cried yourself to sleep, and you no longer woke up in a depression whenever you remembered the accident and the effect that it had on America's memory. Still, you always felt a sharp pain stab through your heart whenever you thought about how this whole mess was your fault. America still would've had his old memory back and wouldn't have been acting so much like England if it weren't for your stupid actions.
You sighed before you closed your eyes and rolled over onto your side so that you were facing your nightstand. Maybe you would've had some time to fall asleep before you would've gotten up and done something productive.
But just as you were about to do so, you were interrupted when you heard the abnormally loud and sudden ringing of your phone on your nightstand. The immediate sound caused you to open your eyes and almost jump in surprise, your heart pounding in shock. Finally, once you realized that someone was calling you, you sighed before you reluctantly sat up in bed and reached out to grasp your phone.
"Hello?" you asked a bit wearily as you pressed it to your ear after you had turned it on.
"_____, can I ask you a favor?" You instantly recognized the voice of England, and you mentally groaned. You honestly didn't want to deal with him right now.
You sighed in a bit of exhaustion before you leaned back so that your back was pressing against your pillow. "Fine," you said, hoping England wouldn't have noticed the small amount of irritation in your voice. "What do you want?"
"Well, I need to leave the house to attend something important," he replied in the same tone as before. "I'll be gone for a few days, but I can't have America come with me, and I don't want to leave him by himself for such an extended amount of time. Do you mind coming over and taking care of him while I'm gone?"
You were a bit thunderstruck at his request, since you totally didn't feel like taking care of America in the meantime. You were silent for a few seconds before you finally found your voice. "W-Why do you need me to look after him? Can't you just ask someone else, like...Canada?"
"I doubt that America will pay much attention to Canada once he arrives," England said doubtfully. "Also, you seem like you would be able to handle looking after him while I'm away. It's not as big of a job as you might think, _____."
A few moments passed in silence as you were debating to yourself whether or not you should accept his offer. Coming over to take care of America meant you were going to be spending a few days with him alone in England's house, and the thought made your heart increase its pace in anxiety. But judging by the tone in England's voice, you knew that he was depending on you, and a part of you found that you were unable to turn him down.
"Fine," you sighed after a somewhat long pause. "When do you need me to come over?"
"I need to leave tomorrow morning," England stated. "If you would be able to arrive by then, it would be wonderful."
"Okay," you said, a bit of exhaustion in your voice. "I'll do it." With that, you hung up and put your phone back in its proper place on your nightstand. I guess I better start packing...you thought to yourself.
You stood in front of the doorway to England's house, watching as he gathered all of his things, which were packed in suitcases. You were fairly exhausted from getting up so early, but now that you had already arrived, you figured that you might've gotten a chance to get some sleep.
"Alright," England said as he stood upright and took out a folded piece of paper that he kept in his pocket. He extended his hand out towards you so that you were able to grasp the paper with a bit of confusion in your eyes before you looked down at it and opened it, finding a bunch of words scribbled on it. "That is a list of some basic things you need to know when looking after America, and some things that need to be done while you're here."
You looked up at him a bit surprisingly, but he continued. "There's a guest room where you can sleep which is on the upper floor. Please make sure America doesn't get into any kind of trouble." With that, England grasped his suitcases in both hands and walked outside, shutting the door behind him with his foot and leaving you to turn around and stare at the closed door in surprise, holding the piece of paper tightly in your hand.
"You're welcome," you muttered after a few seconds of silence passed.
You turned back around and sighed before you grasped your bags and walked forward, proceeding to enter the living room. Once you did, you stopped in your tracks when you saw America sitting on the couch, eating something that you didn't even want to know what it was.
"Um...hello, Alfred," you said a bit quietly as you continued to stand there, gazing at him a bit hesitantly.
At the sound of your voice, America lifted his head and turned his gaze so that it was able to meet yours. "Good morning, Miss _____."
"G-Good morning," you stammered before you slowly walked over to the couch and set your bags down beside it, setting the paper down as well. You walked over to America and sat down a little away from him, turning your head so that you were looking down at the...things that he was eating. "Um...what are you eating?"
America briefly lifted his gaze to look at you before he dropped it back down to his food. "Oh, Mr. Kirkland calls these scones." He extended a hand to pick one up before he reached it out towards you. Looking over to you with a tiny, expectant smile on his face, he asked, "Would you like one?"
Instantly, you felt your stomach churn once your eyes locked on the "scone," which looked more like coal than food, and you shook your head before you scooted a bit away from it. "N-No thank you," you muttered. "I'm not really hungry right now."
"Oh, okay," America said casually, and you had to turn away from him to avoid the disgust of watching him eat those things.
When he was finally done, he leaned back in his seat before he turned his gaze to the side so that he was looking at you. "So, Miss _____...Mr. Kirkland said that he had to go somewhere and he was going to be gone for a few days, and you're going to be staying here to take care of me while he's out, right?"
"Yes..." you said quietly, drifting your gaze down to your hands, which were rested on your lap.
"Great!" America said, and you were able to notice excitement in his voice. "This means that I can spend more time with you."
What? Did you really just hear him right? America said he wanted to...spend more time with you? "Wh-What do you mean...?" you asked as you shifted your gaze over to look at him, your eyes slightly wide and a prominent blush on your face.
America looked at you with a look as if the meaning of what he said was already obvious. "Well, I usually don't see anyone else other than Mr. Kirkland this whole time, and you seem to be the only other person I see, so it's nice to know I can spend some time away from him for a while."
"O-Oh..." you said before you once again dropped your gaze down to your hands. You were honestly glad that America said what he had, because you certainly didn't want him to mean it in any other way. Going into an intimate relationship with him was the very last thing you wanted in the world.
"S-So...Alfred..." you began after a few awkward moments of silence. "What do you usually do here at Mr. Kirkland's house?"
America shifted his gaze so that he was staring at the TV in front of him before he spoke a few seconds later. "Well, I sometimes watch TV, but I usually just read. Mr. Kirkland also teaches me how to do certain things around the house."
"Well, he taught me a little bit of how to cook," America said as he tapped his chin in thought. "But I still haven't fully gotten used to preparing my own food yet. He also taught me how to knit, how to clean my room, and—oh!" He was interrupted from his sentence as he turned his head around to face you, a bit of excitement in his eyes. "Miss _____, would you like me to show you my room?"
You stared back at him a bit uncertainly, but finally nodded. "S-Sure..."
With that, America led you upstairs as you held your somewhat heavy bags tightly in both hands. England's house was way larger than you had originally thought, and you wondered whether or not America had already memorized every door to every room.
America paused in front of the door to his room, and you put your stuff down next to it, prepared to pick it up and take it to the guest room later. "Well, here we are," he said, and you examined the door up and down. It was plain and simple, unlike the one at his old house, which seemed to be covered with posters of you didn't even know what.
Once you entered America's room and took a look around, you instantly felt surprise fill your eyes. This room was fairly large but so simple. It had a desk that wasn't covered with food wrappers, it had walls that weren't covered with posters, it had a bed that was actually made, and it had a TV that wasn't stacked with video games. Everything about this room seemed so different than how America's room looked like back at his old house. Now, everything seemed so fancy and organized...a little too organized.
That was when you started to wonder just how much England really transformed America from the way he was before the accident.
"Miss _____, I'm a bit hungry," America said to you that evening from his spot on the couch while you were flipping through a book that you had found earlier, not feeling in the mood to read with him right next to you.
You sighed before you shifted your gaze over to look at him. "Alright, Alfred. What would you like to eat?"
He shrugged. "Well, Mr. Kirkland usually prepares me some kind of food. He told me that he left you a note on the kitchen table about what you should prepare for me."
"Oh, really?" you said in surprise and a bit of disbelief.
When he nodded, you put the book you were holding down on the coffee table in front of you before you stood up from your seat and headed over to the kitchen, where you proceeded to look for the note that America said England had left you. After a bit of searching, you finally found it lying on one of the counters, and you walked over to it and picked it up.
After you quickly scanned what was written on the paper, you frowned and made a bit of a disgusted sound. "To hell with this," you muttered before you crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed it in the trash bin next to the counter. You weren't going to let someone who cooked even more terribly than you tell you how to prepare food.
I guess I'll just have to prepare my own food for America, you thought to yourself. After a bit of searching through the kitchen, you were finally able to find some adequate things that you would've used to prepare America's food. Using what you had, you were able to make him mashed potatoes, chicken, and a salad. You figured that what you had made was a thousand times better than England's usual cooking.
Once the food was ready, you called America, who still sat patiently in the living room, and told him to come to the dining room to have dinner. You put the food you had prepared for him on one big plate before you grasped the plate with both hands and headed over to the dining room, where you saw America sitting there, expectantly looking up at you.
"The food is ready," you said to him before you approached the table and set the food down in front of him.
As soon as America examined the food in front of him, you were able to notice a bit of surprise in his eyes. "This food looks different from Mr. Kirkland's..."
"Please, just try it," you said a bit forcefully. "I'm sure you'll like it, even if it would taste differently than his."
America nodded before he picked up his fork and took a bit of some of the food. Instantly, his eyes widened and a smile came to his face, and he looked up at you excitedly. "Miss _____, this is delicious!" he said happily. "I never knew you were such a great cook!"
An involuntary blush made its way to your face, and you folded your hands behind your back and looked down at your feet. "I'm not really that great of a cook..." you said quietly.
"But this food tastes so much better than Mr. Kirkland's!" America said a bit loudly. "I don't mean to offend him, but I would eat your food over his any day!"
"R-Really?" you asked in shock as you lifted your surprised gaze to look up at him.
America nodded. "Of course! This is honestly the best thing I have ever eaten!" With that, he continued to gladly eat the rest of the food, and you thought that you had never seen him look so happy before.
I'm the one to make him happy like this...you thought as you raised a hand to your lips. But as soon as you had that thought, your eyes widened and you shook your head. Just because he complimented me doesn't mean I have to like him in the way I did before! you thought forcefully.
"Miss _____, do you mind if we go out for a walk?" America asked you the next morning as you were in your room, or rather, the guest room, organizing some of your things.
You stood up from your place next to your bed, where you had your bags, before you turned around to look at America, who was standing in the doorway with an eager look on his face. You frowned in confusion before you asked, "Why would you want us to go outside?"
America looked down at his hands as he began to fiddle with his fingers. "W-Well, Mr. Kirkland always takes me out for walks, especially on weekends, and I just thought I'd like to show you around some of London, if you'd like."
You stared at him for a few moments before you nodded. "Oh, alright."
It was colder outside than you had originally thought, and you made sure to dress warmly and reminded America to do so as well so the both of you wouldn't have gotten cold. It was relatively quiet in the neighborhood when the both of you stepped outside, and you were able to see your breath as it hung in the air for a few seconds before it dissolved.
The both of you began your walk, and that was when you realized that there were several places in London that you hadn't been to, way more than you originally thought. As the both of you left the neighborhood and began to head into the city, you saw that you were surrounded by several shops, people, and things that you usually weren't around or familiar with.
"This place looks wonderful," you said to America as the both of you continued to walk through the town with you looking around at the several buildings that the both of you passed. "There are so many places here that I've never seen before."
America smiled as he continued to keep his gaze fixed on the path ahead of him. "I'm glad you like it. If you want, we could visit this park that Mr. Kirkland takes me sometimes. We would usually sit there for a while to pass the time while we're outside."
You nodded. "That sounds fine."
After a while, America led you over to a park that was unfamiliar to you, and it was rather small and composed of a single, wide, straight path, but it had many benches and trees and you felt that you would've liked to spend some time in this place.
You and America walked along the path for a few moments before he motioned you over to an empty bench and you sat down on it, a bit surprised at how cold it felt. America sat down next to you, and as you sat there for the next few seconds, you instantly realized how exhausted your feet already were from all that walking.
You continued to sit there on the bench next to America, your gaze drifting off so that you were able to gaze at the trees in the park, watching as people came and went. "I like it here," you said, leaning back so that your back was pressed against the bench before you closed your eyes. "I would certainly visit this place more often if I had the chance."
"That would be great," America said quietly. "Mr. Kirkland told me that London has many interesting places."
"I'm sure it does," you said as you opened your eyes and lifted your head to look up at the clear sky. The two of you continued to sit there for a few moments until you felt a chill start to come to you and you started to shiver lightly, your warm clothes unable to fully protect you from the coldness of the outside.
America noticed your shivering, and he shifted his gaze so that he was looking at you, concern visible in his eyes. "Are you cold, Miss _____?"
"A-A little," you replied as you rubbed your hands together to try and keep them warm.
He blinked. "If you want, I could keep you war—"
"No, it's fine!" you interrupted suddenly and a bit loudly as you quickly stood up. "I think I just need to walk around for a little while, and then I'll be warm, that's all! I think my feet had enough rest for now."
America paid no attention to your sudden change of behavior and instead stood up from his seat and nodded. "Okay. We can keep walking if that's what you want, Miss _____."
"Yes," you breathed forcefully. "That is what I want."
That was close, you thought to yourself as you and America resumed walking out of the park and back onto the streets.
After a bit more walking and looking around, you caught sight of a McDonald's not too far away from where you and America were walking, and upon sight of it, you instantly felt your eyes widen and your heart rate increase.
Could it be possible that I can bring America's memory back by giving him food that he once used to love so much? you thought hopefully. It just might work, and the thought made you almost want to squeal in delight. If America's memory would've been brought back because of a hamburger, all your troubles would've disappeared.
"Hey, Alfred, are you hungry?" you asked, turning your head around so that you were able to look at America.
He paused before a bit uncertain expression came across his face. "A little, I suppose. I wouldn't mind eating something right now, though."
You smiled and pointed to the McDonald's across the street from the both of you. "We can go over there and order lunch," you said to him, a bit of eagerness in your voice.
America's gaze followed over to where your finger was pointing and he slightly cringed. "I don't know, Miss _____. Mr. Kirkland said it's not good to eat fast food."
"But it wouldn't hurt to try it, right?" you asked a bit forcefully, determined to get America to eat from McDonald's even if it meant bribing him.
"I...I suppose not..." he said quietly after a few moments of silence, making you smile in satisfaction.
After the both of you crossed the street and entered the store, you ordered one hamburger for America and the both of you sat down at a table facing each other, his food set on the table in front of him.
"Aren't you going to eat anything, Miss _____?" he asked as he looked up at you in confusion.
You shook your head. "I'm not that hungry. I'll just eat when we get home."
"Oh, okay," America said with a nod before he turned his gaze down to the burger in front of him before he picked it up with both hands and brought it to his mouth. You watched intently as he took a bite of the burger before he brought it back down on the plate in front of him, hesitantly chewing what was already in his mouth.
You were silent for the next few seconds, your heart beating rapidly in excitement and eagerness. "So...how do you feel?" As if the burger was going to make him feel different in any sort of way. Well, that was what you were hoping.
A bit of a disgusted expression came across America's face before he pushed the plate containing the partially eaten hamburger away from him. "I don't really like it..." he said quietly.
Your eyes widened and you had to keep your mouth from dropping open in surprise. How could it be possible that America doesn't like burgers anymore?! "O-Oh...you don't?" you asked softly, trying hard not to let the shock show in your voice.
America shook his head. "No, I don't. Sorry, Miss _____."
"Th-That's alright," you stammered, unsure of what else to say. Not only was eating a burger unable to bring America's memory back, but he didn't even like it anymore. Now you were no longer able to believe that this was the same person who used to eat seemingly over 90 hamburgers every day.