It was raining heavily in the streets of Britain. It was a dark winter's evening, and it was bitterly cold.

A man cloaked in a black garment hid behind a building as people passed him by. He was holding a child in his hands. The child had dirty blond hair, and was wearing a white garment with a red bow tied at the collar. He had bright blue eyes, and was very confused.

The man himself had bright blond hair, with very thick eyebrows. He had green eyes.

'It has to be done. I can't let anyone find him...' He though solemnly.

The boy he had in his hands was the young representation of the United States of America. He couldn't let anyone find him, because people were looking for him, and only God knows what they will do to the poor boy.

He entered a gothic styled building, which happened to be a church, and sat at a random row. Almost right next to him was a man who had shoulder length, wavy hair, with a small child cradled in his arms. The man was focusing on the priest, while the young boy had taken much pleasure in poking at his father's arm.

'Maybe, just maybe, if I place Alfred with him, he will be safe.' He took Alfred from where he was carrying him underneath the robe, and attempted to place him in the other man's arms, or at least next to him. In return, the man looked at him very confused. Arthur sheepishly looked back, beckoning for the man to take him. Instead, he returned his attention back to the priest.

'So much for that plan...'

~.~ Moments later ~.~

Later, the man approached him, carrying his son in his arms.

"Excuse me," He said in a thick French accent, "But why were you trying to put that boy in my arms?"

"Oh, well... I'm kind of in a bad situation here. Officials are looking for my son, Alfred. I don't want them to do bad things to him, so I was wondering if you could look after him until he can fend for himself."

Francis, who was very taken aback by this statement, decided it would be a good idea to help this man out, since he had come into the church drenched.

"Alright mon ami, but don't you think that those people would look for you as well? I live with my son, Matthieu, in a rural area and we come here weekly for mass. If you want, you can stay with us."

"That's very kind of you, but...-" He stopped midway in his sentence when he saw his son cheerfully reach out to him, laughing. "Oh, alright," He said sighing, "I'll come with you."

~.~ Years later ~.~

The two boys had grown up to be toddlers and had already learnt to walk and talk. They were very close brothers, but they argued sometimes. But it was only natural.

One day, the young nation found that his brother wasn't with him in the room. He had just woken up, and it was a habit for him to walk over to Matthew's, also known as Canada, bed to check if he was there. But today, he wasn't.

"Mattie?!?" He yelled out, hoping that his brother would crawl from under the bed laughing and saying it was a joke. But that didn't happen. "Mattie!!!" He screamed as he ran down the stairs. He looked all over the lounge room, and then checked the next room, the kitchen.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his brother, head down in the sink, with England (Arthur) and France (Francis) standing on either side of him. They walked away and out of the kitchen, leaving America with his drowning, or dead, brother. It took his a moment for him to figure out what to do.

"Don't worry Mattie! I'll save you!!" He said, grabbing his brother by the waist and pulling him out of the sink. Well, most of him. America was a strangely strong child, and even stranger: Matthew's neck had been strapped to the sink. This ended up with his brother's neck breaking, and his spine ended up making a link between his head and body. Alfred instantly dropped his brother's body, and started to cry.

~.~ Matthew's POV ~.~

I looked around. I was floating in a blank space with a gun in my hand. Then, all of a sudden, these scary blob things were coming my way. I freaked out, and pulled the trigger. The little blobs exploded, but there was this big one coming towards me, and it didn't explode or go away when I shot it. I kept shooting though.

There's no way I'm going to let myself die.

A/N: So... In my dream, Canada's spine was hella long, and some of this dream was set in an RPG maker game type of format (think kinda like Hetaoni). I don't know... I think this dream was inspired by Detective Conan (The volume in which people were drowned in sinks and bathtubs) and Happy Wheels (Hey, their spines are super stretchy) Hehehe... VOCALOID ON~!