WARNINGS: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DRUGS, MURDER, SUICIDE, ANGUISH, CHILD ABUSE, AND FLUFF! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Argentina sits down into the semi tall, dying grass in the sweltering field. He picks a couple of wilted flowers into his hand. The light blue sky swirls around in a warm breeze. These days are his favorite type of days.

Though, waiting isn't something he really enjoyed. The sound of dusted golden grass cracking under the clicking of some old chancletas catches his ears. He turns back and smiles crookedly at the man behind him.

Brazil whistles in greeting while Argentina stands up and dusts himself off. "You got the goods?" The good looking, green, South American country grins at the other. They have done this so many times that it almost became second nature to both of the drug lords.

"I always deliver." Argentina says calmly and cooly. He pulls out a brick of some unknown substance out of his sky blue hoodie and hands it to the other's outstretched palm. "Do you have the money?"

Brazil pauses for effect. "I always pay you back later."

"Perra! Pay me now!" Argentina tries to hide his smile as he clutches the neck of Brazil's shirt.

Brazil is about to reply, but a voice from far off catches his attention. "Who's that?" He says coldly.

Argentina lets go of Brazil's shirt and pulls out his hand gun. The sleek black gun aims in the direction of the now approaching figures. He turns the safety off as he sees UK and Venezuela. "What are you guys doing here?" Argentina glares at UK. They didn't have the best relationship. He was glad to see Venezuela though. They are very close friends.

"For bloody tea." UK snarls up at the tall South American country. It really bothers him that Brazil and Argentina are taller than him. "We're here for your drugs. What else would we be doing here?" He glares back at Argentina and hopes he looks intimidating. He slightly gulps at the two towering countries in front of him. He glances at the short Venezuela for support, but it seems Venezuela has another idea in mind.

"Tina!" Venezuela throws his arms open and runs to his friend.

In a quick motion, Argentina turns his safety on and shoves his gun out of sight. "Don't call me that!" He growls with a happy smile and wraps his friend into a hug.

UK rolls his eyes and shifts his spectacles. He casts his eyes over to the horizon to ignore the scene.

Brazil throws his arms around Argentina's neck to give the other a hug from behind.

Argentina's lips curve upward, not minding the affection at all. In his eyes, Venezuela is his most trusted friend even if the shorter South American country mistook him for Nicaragua the first time they met. He now teases Venezuela about how the other looks like Colombia and Ecuador. Though, the other fights back with how Argentina looks like Nicaragua, El Salvador, and Honduras. Argentina finds all of this very insulting because all those countries are from Central America. At least he tells Venezuela how the other looks similar to countries in their own continent.

Tapping his foot, UK huffs from his impatience. He glances over his shoulder and crosses his arms. "Do I need to change suppliers?"

Argentina deeply sighs and pulls out another brick of tightly wrapped drugs. He gently shakes himself out of the hug. "Here." He tosses it into the air and watches as UK struggles to catch it.

UK pushes his spectacles back in place and digs into his trouser pocket for a wad of cash. He takes the thick stack of cash and tosses it back.

Argentina easily catches it. "See, Brazil, even UK pays me on the spot." He shoots UK a fake smile which surprisingly shows his dimples.

UK gives the other a curt nod and turns on his heels. He got what he came for and there was no reason for him to stay. "Come on, Venezuela."

Venezuela didn't really want to leave yet, but he gives his friend a tight hug and then runs after UK.

Argentina glares at the back of UK. The man may have taken Falkland islands away, but he would never let him take Venezuela. He takes his gun back out and clicks off the safety.

"Are you sure-" Brazil begins to say, but the firing of the gun stops him.

UK drops to the ground and Venezuela turns back with horrified eyes. He looks at the body of the crumbled country and falls to his knees. "UK?" He whispers softly. His voice cracks faintly. Emotion is slightly building up in his eyes. The tears slip down his cheek as he confirms that UK was dead. "How could you?" Venezuela shouts, but his voice breaks. The harshness of his tone fades as a few sobs shake his body.

Argentina cringes at his crying friend. He puts his gun away once again and walks over to comfort the crying country.

"Go away." Venezuela stumbles back in his position on the ground. Tears keep falling down his face as he says, "Who gave you the right to take his life?!"

"I did this for you!" Argentina's words melt into a dream-like swirl.

"I don't need you!" Venezuela spits back.

His breathing becomes sharper after hearing that and the next events mix into a black blur. What seems to him like a few seconds was actually, in fact, a few hours. He wakes up in a cold sweat in his bed. He sits up and looks down at his sky blue hoodie. A few dark blood stains spot all over the blue fabric. His eyes jump over to the door.

Brazil walks into the dim lighted room. The blackish-blue light covers his front and the golden light from the room behind him casts him in an angelic glow. A blank frown covers his face as he approaches the side of the bed. "How are you feeling?" He shifts his weight on his other foot. The tall South American is actually feeling uncomfortable in the other's presence, but he isn't going to completely ignore his supplier after killing a man.

Argentina wipes the sweat off his face. "I feel... nothing." His eyes roam to his darker then usual dresser to avoid Brazil's gaze. He slightly jumps and freezes when he feels a cool hand press against his forehead. He rips the other's arm into his hand and glares at him. The shocked expression he is met with makes him feel guilty. He drops the other's arm and gets up. He brushes the dried grass that still clung to his shorts. "What happened?"

"You mean you don't remember?"

Argentina looks up to find Brazil standing farther away from him. He frowns because he knew he deserved it, but he didn't like the space between them. "I don't."

"He..." Brazil's face contorts. A few tears pop out of his eyes. "He's gone."

"Gone?" Argentina tries to swallow the word. "What do you mean gone?" He walks around the bed as anxiety climbs up his back.

Brazil shakes his head, not wanting to say the words out loud.

Argentina grabs the other's arms and shakes them desperately. "Where is he?" His voice becomes a strangled mess.

"Ar, he's dead." He gasps the words out between sobs. Brazil sinks to the floor and cries out in agony. Venezuela had been there for him in so many ways ever since 2001. Now, his good friend would never be seen walking around and spreading hope and cheer into other's countries' hearts.

Instead of falling on the ground with Brazil, Argentina stands before the country below him. His red stained, light blue hands are clentched and his whole body is trembling. Only one thought ran through his mind: "I killed my best friend." His legs buckle and he hits the ground with a thud. He meets Brazil's eyes with a look of regret and pain. "I'm a monster."

These words clearly confuse Brazil. He sniffs loudly and wipes a couple of tears away. "What do you mean? He shot himself and you tried to save him."

The news strikes Argentina in the heart. He is so relieved that he didn't kill Venezuela, but he is still heartbroken over the fact that Venezuela would do that. "What's so special about UK?" He shouts with tears rolling down his face. "He takes everything away from me." His breathing becomes heavier as he thinks of those last words. He really just lost his best friend. The country he could always talk to. The country who was always there for him. He leans into Brazil's chest and sobs. In a way, he did kill Venezuela. If he had never killed UK, it would be alright. Venezuela would still be alive.

Brazil rubs the other's back for comfort even though he was sobbing as well. The presence of Argentina did make him feel slightly better. At least he wouldn't have to mourn alone.

A harsh knocking on the door makes both of them jump. A muffled voice yells, "FBI open up!"

Argentina lays there limply. He has no energy to move.

It is a struggle for Brazil to move as well. His heart feels so heavy. He picks Argentina up, which is very easy for Brazil. They are about the same height, but Argentina is a lot more slimmer then Brazil. Plus, Brazil has some hunky muscles which made most countries jealous or infatuated with him. He gently lays the other on the bed and walks out of the depressing bedroom.

Argentina barely realizes what happened nor does he care. All he wants is his friend back. Another sob bubbles past his lips. He turns to press his face in his covers. He lips part into a painful frown as he sobs into the white, fluffy comforter. He sharply breathes for air between sobs which makes the stagnant, dark room fill with the sound of sad little groans.

Brazil wants to run straight back into that room, but he pushes himself to open the door.

America leans on the doorframe and looks up with a frown. "I need to speak with Argentina."

"Why?" Brazil asks coldly.

"I'm looking for my dad." He lowers his voice a whole octave. "I know that he buys drugs from him."

"America... I know that you know that. You literally come to my house to buy drugs from me!" Brazil sighs exasperated. He didn't really want to deal with the Northern American at the moment.

"Good, so we're on the same page." America smiles at the other, despite the worry that is consuming him. His dad and he always had a rough relationship, but he still knew that his father loved him, just like UK knew that America loved him. He slides his foot slightly inside. "Can I come in?"

Brazil stays silent for a second until he hears Argentina's soft sobs. "Nope. You can't." He starts to close the door.

America stops this by firmly placing his hands against the warm wood of the door. America is pretty fit and even though he is way shorter then Brazil, it was easy for him to keep it open. "I won't take long. I just want to find my father." He shoves himself through the opening. He smiles triumphantly as he stands on the brown-orange, wooden floor of Argentina's house.

Argentina has slightly snapped out of it because of the ruckus he could hear in the other room. To cover his tracks, he takes off his hoodie and throws it into a hamper of dirty clothes. Rethinking his decision, he buries the jacket deeper into the basket. He inspects his white t-shirt and finds it spotless. He scrubs off the blood from his hands quickly and inspects himself in the mirror. His usually light blue arms are slightly bluer because the scrubbing irritated his skin. He wipes his tears away and fakes a smile. He looks okay... kinda. He walks out and stands between the two countries that look like they were about to fight. "Hey, America, how can I help you?"

Brazil raises an eyebrow at Argentina's change in attitude. He could not believe the other is talking so calm and collected after he left him in a sobbing mess.

"Hey, Arg! Have you seen my father around?" America's face brightens when he sees Argentina.

Argentina shakes his head sadly with a concerned look. "Is he missing?"

"Afraid so." America's face falls. "Well, this is a bummer. If you see him, call me! Sorry for bothering you." He gives Argentina a warm wave and glances at Brazil. He nods to show a little bit of courtesy. Then, he leaves Argentina's house with a very heavy heart.

Argentina deflates immediately after America leaves. His shoulders slump forward and a deep frown curves into his light blue and white face.

Brazil meets Argentina's eyes with a similar expression. He takes Argentina's gun out of his sweatpants pocket and holds it out to the other. "I'm sorry I took this. I just didn't want you to do what Venezuela did." He says softly.

Argentina stares at the gun and slowly shakes his head. "Keep it." He wants nothing to do with that gun anymore. He turns away and trudges into the living room and flops down on his sofa. He turns on his T.V. and is immediately met with the haunting faces of UK and Venezuela.

Norway's serious voice hits his ears. "The bodies were found in a forgotten field..."

Brazil takes the remote from Argentina and turns the T.V. off. His worried gaze falls on Argentina's face. "Ar...." His voice drifts off. He didn't know what else he could say.

...

America is beginning to head home when he notices that other countries were staring at him. The low whispers became a low background noise of his little walk. He lives a good while away from Argentina's house. He already left Argentina's neighborhood and is in the middle of his own neighborhood. He hears flip-flops clapping on the pavement. He looks up to see his son running up to him. "Flordia?" America stops in his tracks and tilts his head as he watches his son.

"Dad..." Florida stops in front of America and pants like a dog. "UK.... he.... he's dead." Flordia blurts out. He isn't sure how he is supposed to tell his father about UK's death, so he decides to be frank with it.

"What?" America says dumbly. He could not process that information through his head.

"UK is dead."

The words left America numb.

Florida's hat is flung off his head. He holds his cheek as he looks up at his father. America had never hit him before, so this shocks him tremendously.

America stares at his hand as he snaps out of it. He covers his mouth with his hand as he realizes what he's done. "Flordia, I..." Tears immediately roll down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around his son.

Florida stands there stiffly. He didn't really want America to be touching him now. Even if it was one time, his father still hit him and there is no excuse for that. When he is released from the hug, he simply walks away. He would find someone else to stay with. A country who he could depend on no matter what. A country who never abuse him like America did.

"Florida? Flordia? Where are you going?" America walks steadily after him. He gets no response. After a few minutes, he stops following the other. He had no right to. He hit him and that means Flordia has lost his trust in America. He should give him space.... and an apology. He continues walking home with grief and guilt mixing into his thoughts.

Flordia takes a few more steps and stops in front of Mexico's house. Mexico is his brother and he knows that the other would take care of him. He knocks on the door and hears a series of clashes and clangs.

"¡Hola!" The Mexican smiles when he sees his shorter brother on his doorstep. "Come in! Come in!" He moves out of the way to let the state in. "We're having tortillas tonight!" His eyes dance excitedly as he looks Flordia over. "Aye! Why is your face so read!" He runs his fingers softly over Florida's cheek.

Florida looks away as he frowns. He was hoping the other would not notice. "Just one of my siblings." He shrugs off the question.

Mexico places his hand over the palm print on Florida's cheek. "It's way too big to be one of the states' handprint, Gringo." Mexico frowns. He wonders who would ever lay a hand on Florida. "Tell me who it it." He looks directly into Flora's eyes.

Florida glances at those brown eyes and sighs. He knew he would have to tell the other. There was no way out of it. "America did it."

...

Brazil is currently cuddling with the exhausted Argentina. "How are you doing?" He knows it is a stupid question to ask, but he could no longer bear the silence any longer.

"I'm not okay." Argentina replies in a raspy voice. At that very moment, he is wishing he missed UK when he pulled the trigger. He wishes that Confederate never taught him how to shoot a gun.

...

America steps inside his mansion to be bombarded with questions. Though, he mostly ignores every single question directed at him. All he could do is think about Florida and what he did to him.

...

Another sob breaks lose from Argentina when he gets another piece of his memory back. He could see Venezuela's crying face quite clearly and the gun pressed to the side of his head. "Please, don't go." He whimpers softly.

Brazil hugs the crying country tighter to his chest. Those three words breaks his heart. He is trying to stop himself from crying as well.

"This is all my fault." Argentina cries out loud. "If I never killed UK, Venezuela would still be alive!" He words crumble as he sobs harder.

"Argentina, Venezuela's death is not your fault!" He murmurs into the other's ear. "He choose that. He could have stayed with us." Brazil half-heartily reasons.

"But if I didn't kill UK-"

"You're sad because Venezuela is dead, but you haven't killed yourself." Brazil cuts him off. "You stayed with me." He says softly into the other's ear.

Argentina thinks over it and realizes that Brazil was right. Though, even with that knowledge, it is still hard not to blame himself. He wishes that he listened to Brazil's gentle warning before all of this happened. Even though Brazil never finished that question, Argentina could replay the whole thing over and over in his mind. Are you sure you want to do that? He shivers as a few tears slip down his face.

"I'm glad you stayed with me." Brazil says softly. He is scared of the silence which continues to consume them.

"I... I am too." Argentina clutches to Brazil's muscular arm.

The silence stretches on until Brazil breaks it again. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel empty." Argentina whispers as he stares into the darkness. His chest is aching and it feels like someone has scraped out his heart.

"Then, I guess I will have to fill you up with all my love and affection!" Brazil shouts after he figures out how to respond to that. He showers Argentina's cheek with light, warm kisses.

Argentina's face flushes, but he doesn't react. He shouldn't. He is mourning his best friend's death right now. He shouldn't be happy that his crush just kissed his cheek or that he is in his crush's arms right now. He doesn't deserve the comfort Brazil is giving him right now, but he certainly couldn't push the lovable South American country away. He isn't that strong.

...

The last time Mexico was this mad was when NAFTA had lied to him about making his life easier. He clenches his fists as he leads Flordia to the kitchen. "Here you go, Gringo." He places a steaming hot tortilla in front of Florida. He hides his anger behind a bright smile as he watches Flordia dig into the food. He thinks to himself: "America better be praying because I'm not going to go easy on him for this." Mexico cracks his knuckles with a frown. Another knock comes from his front door. In a sour mood, he stomps down the hallway.

Nepal's eyes widen when he sees the flames burning in Mexico's eyes. "Are you good, my friend?" Nepal barely visits Mexico, but he did like to check in at times.

"Just fine." Mexico grumbles even though he tries to keep his voice light. Nepal and him are not very close and their friendship is just starting to bloom, so he has to be careful on how he acts in front of the other. "Please, come in." Mexico motions for Nepal to come in with a simple motion of his hand.

"I'm sorry, Mexico, but I must be going. I'm taking Nepali Dal-bhat-tarkari to America so I can pay my respects." Nepal frowns apolitically.

The mention of America makes Mexico slightly sneer. "Respects for what?"

"Oh, you don't know?" His voice drops lower. "Britain is dead."

Mexico's eyes pop open. Now he understands why America acted out like that, but that is not a valid excuse to hit a child. "What happened?"

"He was shot." Nepal answers lowering his voice even more.

Mexico shakes his head. He couldn't imagine losing the Spanish Empire like that. It must be terrible for America at the moment.

...

America is sitting at his desk. He stares at the wood as his younger days with his father fill his mind.

Mexico glared at him as he gave the squalling baby to America. Young California was absolutely adorable. "Awww!" America hummed as he kissed his new state's head. "Thank you, Mexico." America slightly smirked at the Mexican. Winning the Mexican-American War made him feel so powerful and... cocky. "I'll take good care of him." He held the infant close to his chest.

"You better." Tears welled up in Mexico's eyes as he looked at his son's face one last time.

America rolled the guilt off his shoulder. "Bye!" He called at the back of the Mexican.

Mexico wiped his eyes at the tears. He lost seven of his kids to the 28 starred freak.

UK clapped America on the back. "Look at all the territory you gained!"

Their relationship may be strained at the moment, but America was glad that his father was here. He needed all the help he could get with seven more kids. "Thank you, Dad." America smiled down at his father.

UK took his gloved hand to hold California's little hand. A proud smile covered his lips as he looked at his new grandson.

America shivers at the memory. That proud smile touches his cold, aching heart. He did his paperwork he's been putting off, so he wouldn't think of anymore memories like that.

...

Argentina has calmed down in the past few hours. Though, he still feels like his world has been turned upside down.

Brazil has fallen asleep and now softly snores while clinging to the other. In his sleep, his leg had moved over Argentina's hip.

Argentina is trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He is slightly blushing from the whole matter even though he knew he should be mourning the death of his friend. He wonders what the other was dreaming about when he hears Brazil incoherently mumble.

Brazil cuddles closer which makes heat travel to a place far below his heart. "I got to get out of here." Argentina mumbles to himself. He struggles out of the other's gasps and slips into the living room as quietly as possible. He passes the couch and pushes open the door to his art studio. He loves to paint and has made many beautiful and eye catching paintings. He dips his paintbrush into black paint and starts to work on an empty canvas. He really doesn't think about what he was doing; he just goes with the flow. His art wasn't very valued at first, but now it was. He makes a very good profit off of it. Since he was a young country, he always wanted to be acknowledged for his work. He made so much money he could buy a car in full. Plus, he could drive that beautiful Scion TC with his new Audemars Piguet Royal Oak Rainbow Automatic Diamond White Gold Watch. It reminds him of his father and now the gay flag. He glances at his painting and drops the brush when he sees Venezuela sobbing in front of him. He quits breathing for a long while until he stands up. With a blank expression, he walks over to his kitchen. He opens a wine bottle and pours the violet liquid into a glass cup. He gulps it down and puts the wine bottle away. He digs through his kitchen for a little bit of food and finds some crackers to feast on. He stares at his counter and tries to not think of anything at all. He hears a rustle and looks up to see Brazil in a tired mess.

Brazil plops down on a stool and accidentally farts. He blushes and looks up at Argentina. "Sorry, I'm a little gassy all of the sudden." It was probably from his dinner last night, but he wasn't going to go in detail.

Argentina only laughs and grins. "Nothing to worry about. Everyone does it." He hands the box of crackers to Brazil. "Want some?"

Brazil yawns and nods his head. He takes a few crackers from the box and munches on them.

Argentina is starting to get hot so he switches on the ratting ceiling fan above their heads. The white blades rattle their way around in an unending loop.

Brazil slides the crackers back to the other side of the counter.

Argentina catches the box right on time before it falls to the floor. He shakes his head in a disappointed matter. "How dare you almost drop my life source!"

Brazil laughs. "Life source?"

"This is no laughing matter!" Argentina slightly smiles for a moment, but then his face drops again. He killed his friend. He shouldn't be happy right now. He looks up to see Brazil's concerned face looking at him. His gaze falls to the other's lips and he notices cracker crumbs all over the other's mouth. He takes a napkin and shoves it into Brazil's face. "You are a messy eater." He mumbles with a light blush.

The little action makes Brazil tip back on the stool. He suddenly falls and the stool tumbled down with him. His legs are tangled with the legs of the stool.

"Are you okay?" Argentina laughs and moves around the counter to help the other up.

Brazil dusts himself off and smiles. "I'm more than okay." He says softly as he stares into Argentina's eyes lovingly.

Argentina's cheeks grow a stronger shade of red while he looks away. He feels a little uncomfortable under the other's gaze. He wanted Brazil for such a long time and it was strange to him that now they seem to be hitting it off.... after the death of his friend.

...

"Father?" Illinois steps into the room that was only illuminated by a reading lamp on his father's desk. "Flordia's not home yet."

America sighs and pushes his papers away. "I don't think he'll be back anytime soon." America takes his sunglasses off to look over his shoulder at his son. A prominent frown covers his face.

"Why?" Illinois takes a few steps closer into the room as he tilts his head with curiosity.

"Well you see... I hit him." America's voice breaks. It is hard to admit to, but he would not cover his hateful act up. That would be very unfair to Florida and would show his son that he is not to be trusted.

Illinois's eyebrows furrow as he looks at his father with a new set of eyes. "Is he okay?"

"I hope so..." America's eyes widen as he realizes he should have kept track with Florida. Now, he has no idea where his son is. He stands up abruptly with worry drowning him. He picks up his phone from his bed and starts to call Flordia's number. "Please, pick up, please." America whispers into the phone. After trying several times, he decides to call an old pal of his for help.

"Hello?" An heavy accent answers the phone.

"Ancient Greece! I'm so glad you answered! I need a favor!" America goes into detail on what happened.

"I will begin my search immediately!" Ancient Greece sets his jaw like the loyal solider he was.

"Thank you." America smiles warmly as he stares at his bed.

"Any idea where he could have gone?" Ancient Greece asks and listens closely.

"Probably with someone from his biological family.... Spanish Empire perhaps?" America suggests.

"I will go ask him." Ancient Greece hangs up. The x-country immediately leaves his house and takes a delightful carriage ride to Spanish Empire's house.

America sighs in relief. Ancient Greece and him got along with each other strangely well. He trusts the other like no one else really. He turns back to see Illinois still staring at him. "It's going to be okay. We'll find him." He gives his son a little smile.

Illinois nods. "I'm going to go look for him too."

America frowns for a split second. "Okay, just get back before dark and bring your phone!"

Illinois leaves the room saying, "Okay, Dad."

...

San Marino zips the body bags up with a sigh. He did not want to spend his afternoon doing this. He pats Venezuela's body bag with tender sympathy. He pushes both of the bodies into the freezers. He hates his job so much. No matter what, it always sent a chill down his spine. Someone shouts and he turns around quickly.

"We got prints!" One of his fellow co-workers runs into the room.

"Who's are they?" Another co-worker asks.

"Argentina's."

...

"Want to get high?" Argentina asks the other. He has tons of marijuana just sitting in the corner and he no longer feels like being a supplier. Plus, he wants to forget the pain and grief he is going through.

Brazil raises his eyebrows. "I don't think you should do that."

Argentina is temped to ignore the other's advice, but he sighs when he realizes that ignoring Brazil put him into this situation in the first place. "I'm sorry." Argentina holds his head in his hands. What was he thinking? Trying to ignore his pain and grief is not the way to go.

...

Ancient Greece slumps when he walks out of Spanish Empire's house. Flordia is not there and now he has no idea where to look. He decides to look in all the places America has recently been in. He calls America.

"Hi!" So much hope fills into the American's voice. "Did you find him?"

Ancient Greece frowns. "No, but I was thinking we should look in the last place you saw him."

America sighs and nods, but then he realizes the other couldn't see him. "That sounds like a plan. I'll start in my neighborhood and you can start from Argentina's house. We'll meet in the middle."

"Ok. See you soon..." He pauses. "We will find him, America."

America covers his mouth to muffle the heartbroken sob he lets out. After a few minutes, he removes his shaking hand. "I hope so."

"I know so." Ancient Greece smiles and then hangs up. He makes the journey to Argentina's house. His chariot made the trip pretty quick. He gives his two stallions a love-filled pat before knocking on the door.

Argentina jerks his head to the sound. He trudges to the door and opens it. "Hello?" Argentina has never seen this x-country before.

"Sorry for the intrusion, but have you seen Flordia? He's about this tall and his flag is mainly white with a red x across his face. In the middle of his flag is his state seal." Ancient Greece makes the gestures while explaining Flordia's appearance.

"Sorry, I have not..." Argentina hesitates before closing the door. "I hope you find him."

"I hope I do too." The ancient being peers down the street as he searches for America's son with his eyes. "Have a nice day." With that, the figure wearing a white tunic walks away from Argentina's doorstep.

Argentina closes the door and turns around to find Brazil a few inches away.

"Who was that?" He stares into Argentina's soul.

"Just some guy looking for Flordia." Argentina shoves off the question and the butterflies in his stomach, but the butterflies manage to stay.

Brazil backs off with a smile. "That's a relief. I thought America came back."

"Do you not like America?" Argentina hums past Brazil and slides back into the kitchen.

Brazil follows and scratches his neck. "I don't not like him... I just don't like him around.... you." He says the last part of that sentence quietly.

"What was that?" Argentina smirks.

Brazil blushes and covers his embarrassment with a nervous laugh. "Oh, nothing..."

"Oh, come on! You already told me once. You just have to say it again."

"I-I don't like him being around you!" Brazil says loudly and covers his face in his hands.

"Well, I like being around you more anyway." Argentina smiles at the blushing mess before him.

Brazil gulps and his blushes deepens. He looks up at Argentina with wide eyes. He walks around the counter and stands besides him. He knew this would be a bad idea. That these feelings he has for the other stirred up at an awful time. Though, his heart tugs him to lean down and kiss Argentina's slightly parted and confused lips.

They part and Argentina looks up at Brazil with alarm. He just killed someone. He just lost his best friend. He crush just kissed him. He wraps his arms around Brazil and squalls with happy and sad tears mixing together.

Brazil is incredibly confused, so he stands there and runs his hands over Argentina's soft hair and back.

"I like you too." Argentina whispers, though, Brazil could hear him just fine.

A bright smile covers Brazil's face as he looks down at the guy clinging to him.

...

By this time, Nepal is already on his way to America's house. Flordia and Mexico are taking a walk to Panama's house. "I came to your house to spend time with you!" Flordia whines. He has nothing against his brother, Panama, but he still wants to stay with Mexico.

"I know you do, but I have to talk to America." Mexico pulls the reluctant state into their brother's house. "Panama! I have Gringo! You need to take care of him for me while I.... sacar la mierda de América (beat the shit out of America)!" He says the last bit in Spanish quickly so Flordia wouldn't understand.

Panama runs up to the door and bends down to try to catch his breath. "You got it, hermano!" He throws his arms around Flordia. "It's been awhile, Gringo."

"It's good to see you, Panama." Flordia grins up at the good smelling country.

"Likewise!" They both wave at Mexico's back. Then, Panama shuts the door and smiles at Flordia. "I got something to show you." He runs into the kitchen and grabs two Cokes for Flordia and him. Then, he runs to his back porch.

Flordia follows with a chuckle.

He plops down on a beach chair and stares up at the setting sun. "See how beautiful it is?" Panama hands Flordia a Coke.

Flordia sits in the other chair and grins. "I do." He admires the blending colors. He takes the Coke and sighs at the satisfying hiss it makes when he opens it. He takes a sip, noticing that the liquid tastes a little differently. They stay out there for awhile until the sun slips completely away. They then curl up on Panama's couch and watch scary movies.

...

They make their way into the bedroom and cuddle with each other like before. Brazil's hand travels through Argentina's soft hair quite often.

The motion makes Argentina fall asleep quickly. Though, he wakes up after awhile from a horrible nightmare of Venezuela's crying and bloody face.

...

After today's events, none of these countries and states would ever be the same again, but at least they have each other. Mexico definitely beats the crap out of America and Ancient Greece swoops in to save his friend. Nepal comes upon the scene and helps pull the two countries apart. Flordia eventually goes back to America though Panama and Mexico make sure the state feels welcome to stay with them at any time. Argentina is taken into custody for the murders of UK and Venezuela. He is found guilty and Brazil pays for his bail. The drug lords live happily ever after.

The End 💖

~~~~~~~

This long *ss one-shot is for my friendo, KeenCa

You said be descriptive. Is 6,237 words enough description for you? I hope you like it! BYEEEEEEE!