"You're the only one who cares for me, Alfred," Arthur said with a light, self-deprecating laugh, patting young Alfred on the head, brushing the hair from his face. Tears built up in his eyes, though, he would not let them fall; it would be improper for a true English gentleman to cry.

He knew perhaps, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he shouldn't be putting such burdens on the boy. But it didn't stop him from doing so.

"I know you'll always be there for me," Arthur continued, his hands running over Alfred's face and down to his shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

"Right?"

"You're the only one who cares for me, America," England said with a light, self-deprecating laugh, patting young America on the head, brushing the hair from his face. Tears built up in his eyes, though, he would not let them fall; it would be improper for a true English gentleman to cry.

He knew perhaps, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he shouldn't be putting such burdens on the boy. But it didn't stop him from doing so.

"I know you'll always be there for me," England continued, his hands running over America's face and down to his shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

"Right?"

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