This chapter is not meant to offend, harm, or insult anyone or anybody. This is made purely for entertainment. Thank you for understanding.

This chapter was really hard to write. I hope you enjoy!!

:)

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⚠️ Warning: Language, Mentions of Nazi Germany, WW2, Trauma/Recovery ⚠️

Please read the warnings!! This chapter is about war flashbacks.

[1576 Words]

[United Kingdom's POV]

[Two months after initial attack, around same time as the previous chapter]

"I know. I'm sorry. I just feel a little bit stressed right now." France apologized. He leaned his elbow on the desk, resting his forehead on his palm.

They were back in Paris, back in the meeting room from all those months ago. It's only been three months since then, but so much has happened it felt like a millennia ago.

The UK would admit it sucked, that this sucked, but he should've realized by now that this was his life. Living as a personification, you could never really have it all. Your country, your people, your friends, your family— it just... wasn't realistic to think that they'll all be there by the end of the day.

'Don't think about it too hard,' A voice echoed inside the UK's head. He instantly recognized it was England, the other's accent a dead giveaway.

'It will simply hurt you more.' England continued wistfully. 'Remember that we are no stranger to war. You can't let emotions ruin your sensibility."

"I know that." UK muttered, a little defensive.

France looked up from his palm. A smirk graced his lips. "Are they talking your ear off again?"

UK blushed, realizing he spoke aloud. Good thing that France knew of his 'condition'. It would've been much more awkward if the UK had been caught talking to what appeared to be nothing.

"Yeah." UK replied flatly. He brought the attention back to France. "Don't apologize about that. We are in this together."

France laughed, quieter and more genuine than you would usually hear of him. "You're so sweet, UK. Where would I be without you?"

"Still in bed." UK smirked. He had to drag France out of bed this morning, to the car and down the road to the meeting place. They were supposed to arrive approximately two hours before everyone else, France because he was the host country and UK because he never seemed to be able to leave the other.

It was 6 AM, now. Everyone should be here in an hour.

"Are you nervous about the meeting?" France asked suddenly. He wasn't looking at the UK, choosing rather to peer at the other empty seats across from them.

UK raised a brow. "No. Why do you ask?"

'He's projecting.' Scotland stated helpfully. 'He's worried. Perhaps he forgot the taste of war?'

'I doubt it.' England said. 'I don't think it's fear. I presume he's guilty.'

Guilty? What for?

'Europe was supposed to attack America.' England reminded. 'Now that we have stalled, America has already injured the Middle East and conquered Afghanistan and Iraq.'

'It's not entirely our fault.' Wales interjected. He usually only spoke up on special occasions. 'It all happened so fast...'

'I agree.' Scotland muttered. 'Completely opposite from WW2.'

"I think I just feel a little uneasy." France finally spoke, putting a stop to UK's internal struggle.

"This meeting reminds me of World War II so much. The anticipation... the fear. It brings back memories... it brings back a lot of memories." France paused. He took a breath. "This morning, when you dragged me into the car, it reminded me of a moment back then. It had also been the beginning of the war. You had pulled me into a building just like this one. We spoke with Reich that day, declaring that he could not conquer Czechoslovakia. I tried standing strong, but then Reich... he just looked at me and... he smiled. He looked at me--! Specifically me, and smiled. I lost my own nation to him a year later."

UK's brows were furrowed. A deep sadness had overcome him. He didn't think anything he could say would be helpful, so he simply placed his hand over one of France's own.

He silently urged the other to go on. It looked like something was still building in that mind of his.

France slowly turned his body to face the UK, his eyes still looking elsewhere. He cradled the UK's hand in his lap, tracing over his scars. "I just..." France whispered, "What if this time, it's you who is lost? What if this time, we aren't as lucky?"

France pulled UK's hand up, pressing it against his cheek. His hold on the UK's wrist tightened, France barely able to hide his pained expression. "I can't lose you, UK. You don't know what it would do to me."

'But,' UK thinks idly. 'I do.'

Because he had already went through it himself. He knew what it would do to France because it had already done it's job on him.

Many, many, years ago, they had lost France. He had lost France.

And he would never forget how it felt. How it crushed him, killing him from the inside until he felt like he couldn't breathe.

The UK remembers the sleepless nights. The worrying. The inhuman motivational drive to find France, and only France. He had wondered many times if France was even alive.

The UK had no closure for five years. Five whole years, he had spent wondering and wondering. Hoping and hoping, that for any god out there to hear his prayers and send France back home safely.

And even then, when the UK had fought the fight and won the war, he had never felt so helpless-- so crushed-- finally coming face to face with France again.

Because the gods hasn't answered his prayers.

They had sent him a cruel mockery of it, where nobody was okay and 'safe' was a concept you could only imagine.

The UK and France had reunited in a hospital.

A hospital, where girls too young were nurses and where beds much too red filled the rooms.

UK remembers it from his nightmares.

France had been thin. Way too thin. His bones jutted out of his skin and his face was gaunt like a ghost. His skin had been scrubbed clean but even then you could see the faint marks of dirt, grime, and shit. France could barely move. Barely breathe.

Throughout the month the UK stayed by France's side, France would just lie in bed. Day after day, week after week. There had been a moment where France could finally sit up, but the haunted look in his eyes never went away.

Even now, the UK could still see hints of it. They all knew what happened during the Holocaust but only individuals like France knew what it was like to live through it.

But the worst part in having helped France recover was the guilt. When France had been immobile, he would just stare at UK. Stare, stare, stare, with those blue eyes that were much too dull. At times his gaze would be empty-- other times full of frustration and anger. But it had always been heavy.

The UK hadn't been able to look France in the eye until two years later.

He could've saved France. Could've stopped it all at the beginning. If he had been more quicker-- more faster-- maybe France wouldn't have had to go through that.

He knows what it's like to lose his partner. To lose France.

And the UK would never imagine putting him through that.

"Listen to me when I say this," The UK spoke, soft but firm. He put his other hand on France's untouched cheek, grasping his partner in both hands. He made sure they were making eye contact. Blue to red. Red to blue.

"I will never, ever let anyone hurt you." He promised. "Whether it be physical, mental, or even through me, it will not happen. Not by our enemies, not by our friends, and never by our son. You are the best thing that has happened to me, France. Expect to be treated that way."

France gave the UK a watery smile. He knew words could never express his gratitude, so he simply nuzzled into the other's hand. He kissed the UK's wrist, heart beating and chest filled with something more than happiness.

'Eugh.' England groaned from inside the UK's head. 'There they go again.'

'I think it's sweet.' Wales cooed. 'I always love watching teenage romance.'

'They're not teenagers, though??'

"Thank you, United Kingdom." France muttered softly, cutting through the voices. "Know that I feel the same."

"I know— you don't have to tell me." The UK huffed, the corners of his mouth curling upwards. "We are in this together, after all."

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A/N:

This chapter was supposed to include the meeting but I ended up getting really immersed into UK and France's little moment TwT...

Not a lot of plot in this, but it does show how these two feel about the situation. I had been focusing on the United States, previously. It's actually been nine chapters since we've last seen these two, omg TwT

Anyways, thanks for reading, as always!! Have a great day/night, and I will see you all next time!!

Make sure to drink water and eat!! And sleep too, if you're up late a night reading this.

Bye!!

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAY 2ND, 2023

EDITED ON FEBRUARY 5TH, 2025 ✅