"You all can't stay here forever."

The nations looked up, startled. America was coming in the room with a plate of food for himself. Everyone had gotten some food that America had made from the kitchen. America walked around the table and put his food in front of his seat.

"What?" England asked sharply after a moment of silence. Everyone (except a few) were surprised that he had been the first to speak.

"You heard me," America said. "You all can't stay here forever. I have over sixty kids, and I don't really want a whole bunch of people to stay in the house too. I don't have enough time to do anything anymore with all of you here, and I want to spend time with my kids. I guess one or two of you can stay, but not all of you. That just won't really work out."

There was a moment of silence.

"I'm staying." Everyone was once again shocked as the British accent of the man who had spoken. They were absolutely astonished as they realized that England's voice was soft and kind, not grumpy or sarcastic or sharp.

There was another moment of silence. Everyone waited, expecting England to say something more, (probably insulting), but he didn't.

"Not going to say something insulting?" Some nation muttered. "Surprising."

England rolled his eyes. "Shut it, you git. I'm staying. Why do I have to say something insulting about it?"

"Are you in love?" Italy asked (huh? Not talking about pasta?).

"Not with America, no," England said, glancing at America, who looked away in memory of the rejection. "He's more like a son. That would be weird."

Some nations glanced at him, unsure whether it was the truth or not.

"Its true," France said, smirking. "England rejected America."

"That wasn't supposed to be known worldwide!" England exclaimed. "You weren't even supposed to know that! Why did I even go to that restaurant?" He paused for a moment. "Oh yeah, I remember." He stood up suddenly, shouting "NEXAS!"

Everyone was taken aback by the outburst. America recovered first, also bursting out of his seat. "H*** YES! England, you still owe me pictures."

"Oh, yes, of course." England somehow pulled out a book from his pockets and handed it to America. America opened it, finding it full of pictures of Nexas.

"THANK YOU!" America yelled before squealing. Hungary was looking at the pictures over American shoulder. Japan was covering his nose as he ran out of the room to get a box of tissues for his bloody nose.

Texas and New York were trying to sink back into their chairs.

"Dad, Gramps, Hungary," New York whined. "Seriously?

"But you're so cute together!" The three chorused in unison.

Texas and New York groaned. There was a moment of silence, the only sound heard was the turning of pages in the book of pictures.

"OH MY GODS!" America squealed loudly. "YOU HAVE PICTURES OF FLORNIA, TOO?!"

"Dad!" Florida and California whined.

"What?" America said. "You know I've always shipped Nexas and Flornia. It's why I always made Texas and New York share a phone, and Florida and California share a phone. Look!"

America took out his phone and showed them his contacts. "I put Nexas and Flornia as the contact names!"

"OMGs, I got to do that now!" England shouted, whipping his phone from his pocket and changing it, not even caring that he sounded like a teenaged girl.

America suddenly froze, looking at England with narrowed eyes. "Omg. . .s?"

England blushed at his fumble. "It's a reference to a book—"

"NO WAY! YOU'VE READ PJO?!"

England looked taken aback. "Uh. . . Yeah. It's my second favorite book series."

"Wait," America said. "Let's make this clear. . .You've read a book by an American author?"

"Of course," England said. "You watch Doctor Who, so I thought I'd return the favor."

"Oh," America said. "That makes sense. Wait, it's your second favorite? What's your first?"

"The Ranger's Apprentice series by John Flanagan."

"REALLY?! SAME!"

"Wait," Australia said. "John Flanagan is Australian."

"Well you've got an amazing author!" America exclaimed.

"I have to agree," England said. "It's not bad."

"Why do you have to be so much like Halt?" America said. "He's no fun. Is it because you want too be? Or is it just your personality?"

"Why can't you ever ask just one question?" England asked, somehow not smiling, though anyone who had read the books were either smiling or outright laughing. "You're just like Will?"

"That makes sense, actually," France said. (He'd read the books??) "An adorable father-son relationship."

"At least Halt was there for Will," England muttered regretfully, not meaning anyone to hear.

"What did you say?" France and America asked, not really hearing him.

"I said that there's one main difference between Halt and me. Except for the obvious ones, of course."

"Like what?" America asked, frowning. "Your personalities are the same."

"Meh," England said. "I think I'd be a better Skandian than a Ranger."

"I don't know," France said. "You can't drink alcohol all that well."

"But at least I don't get seasick."

France looked at England a moment, remembering the pirate days. "I can't argue with that."

America looked at the two blankly.

Canada, on the other hand, sent England a look that said "Don't think you're going to escape this. We're family, and we care for you. I heard what you really said."

England paled a bit. Then, he looked away, taking a sip of tea.

~°~

America appeared in the mind. Allen glanced up over his book, but looked back at his book a second later.

America strode through the Mind. "We're all going to greet everyone."

Allen looked up, distraught. (He didn't want to reading.) He muttered under his breath.

"Stop muttering," America snapped. "I'm not in the mood for that. If you have something to say, say it to my face."

"I want to read the book," Allen said, a bit louder.

"As glad as I am to hear that you're liking that book, I'm not chasing my mind," America said.

"You can't make me," Allen said, and for some reason, everyone's eyes were drawn to the baseball bat that Allen had.

"You sure about that?" America asked, and for some reason, everyone's eyes were drawn to—nothing. America seemed to be unarmed.

"Yes."

"Then what you thought was the truth is nothing but a lie," America said, smirking. "Bring it on."

A/N

I'm not going to write the battle scene, nor am I going to write the goodbye scene. Sorry. Anyway, America wins.

~Arthur and Oliver.