Alfred stood at Shelby's door. He was eager to see her. He hadn't in almost a month. He needed to talk out everything that had been said, everything that had been done. He flexed his right hand; the one that crushed Shelby's. He was angry and disgusted at himself for letting himself get mad enough to blank out like that and cause her any sort of pain.

He lifted his hand tentatively, prepared to knock again when the door opened, revealing Shelby in the doorway. Her eyes were wary and her expression was guarded. Alfred's bright blue eyes instantly trailed to her hand. It was free of a splint now, as Feliks had said, but the bruising was still very prominent, the edges just beginning to turn yellow while the middle consisted of a bluish-green hue.

Alfred looked back to Shelby's face, worry and confusion in his eyes. He was expected her to be furious. He was expected her to yell at him about how stupid he was and tell him a bunch of hurtful things before America would get the chance to apologize. However, today, she stood at the door with emotions of sadness and relief churning in her grey-blue irises.

She took a quick step forward and reached up, wrapping her arms around Alfred's neck as she buried her face in his shoulders. This initially shocked Alfred, but he quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around her back. They stood in silence as they embraced together tightly. To them, it seemed as though time itself had paused.

Finally, America spoke. "I'm really sorry, Shelbs." He muttered into her ear.

"I forgive you." She responded quietly, before tightening her grip on the country. "I missed you a lot."

Alfred smiled, squeezing his eyes tightly to keep any tears from building. "I missed you too, dude."