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[fifty]

To be made pretty later.

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[fifty]

[If England is still out there, so is Quark. The knowledge churns in his stomach and presses uncomfortably against all the sharp edges that go along with the memory of Sealand's time in Norfinbury. He needs to say something to Quark. He needs to stay on the line with England. He does both.] Thanks. [For looking for Quark. England would understand that, and would understand that America means it.]

[keepscalm]

I'm sorry I couldn't find him. [And he's sorry that now America is going to have to live with the fact that he's losing both England and Quark tonight. He's sorry that America will have to see their names on the obituary and wait for a return that may never come.

Funny. He never realised how many regrets he had until now.]

[fifty]

It's not your fault. [He's not mad at England. He just wants England here, inside, safe.] I should've come to save you guys. [Even not knowing where either of them is and being locked inside, he still wants to find a way.]

[keepscalm]

[England lets out a wispy breath, part of a laugh that won't come to fruition. There's affection in it, and in his voice following that.] I knew you would try.

I couldn't let you die too. Sorry. [He must be feeling very powerless. England certainly did when it was him on the other side of the line from someone who would meet their end at the blizzard.]

[fifty]

Dammit. [There's a dull thud as the back of America's head makes contact with the door. Why is this happening? It's happening and he can't do anything about it.] I'm going to stay on the line with you. [It's demanding, almost childishly so.]

[keepscalm]

S'all right. I was hoping you would. [Selfishly so, but if he has to die, he wants to listen to someone he knows. Someone he loves.

His mind hangs on that thought, and after some silence, he repeats himself, as if America's attention could have possibly drifted in the few seconds it took for England to gather up his next words.] America?

[fifty]

[America's response is immediate--he doesn't want England to think he isn't paying attention. To the contrary, he doesn't think he's been this focused in a long time.] Yeah?

[keepscalm]

[He's been avoiding it for a long time. Even now, when he knows this might be his last chance, the words are stuck in his throat, behind walls and walls of fear and shame. He watches the snowflakes dance in the wind around him, and is silent for longer than he realises before he finally cracks the shell and lets the words fall out.

He closes his eyes. There's still a part of him that's afraid America will hang up in disgust.] I really love you. Sorry I never said it sooner.

[fifty]

[At first America is worried England is already gone, with how long he's silent. Then he says that, and America makes a sound without realizing it, his voice cracking in half. He can't figure out how to keep even the slightest grip on his composure.] I love you too. Really--really. [His earnestness is obvious.]

[keepscalm]

[It shouldn't have been under these circumstances. It should have been while they were safe, warm, and together. Where England could touch America's face and kiss him breathless. Where he could see America's beautiful smile. He might never see it again. He could ask America to turn on his video, but he knows it wouldn't be right if he tried to smile just because England asked him to.

Though his weariness suffocates most of the emotion from his voice, there's still a note of yearning beneath it, tiny and desperate.] I've wanted to hear you say that. For a long time.

[fifty]

I could say the same thing. [America's voice is still a wreck. He's still a wreck.] I should've said it sooner. [Should've gone with England after John. Would that have helped? Maybe it would be England inside and America outside right now. That's not really better.] I'll wait for you to come back. [That's not enough.] Wherever you are, as soon as you come back, let me know and I'll get there as fast as I can. [It's not enough, but there's nothing else he can do.]

[keepscalm]

Yeah. I might come back. [England can't afford to assume that he will, but he hopes he does. He's never wanted to be wrong about anything more in his entire life than he does about his chances of revival.

God, it's cold.] Be careful. Please. [It's easy to become reckless when you've lost something important, but he doesn't want America to die.]

[fifty]

[He will come back. America will put all his willpower into it, and somehow--that has to help. He needs to believe it will help right now.] I'll be careful. [He's not good at being careful all the time, but--for Ginger's sake, and--when England comes back, if America is dead, England would be upset, and--] I miss you.

[keepscalm]

[It hasn't even been a week. They went years without seeing each other back home. Even with the convenience of modern travel, they can only afford to see each other so often. It seems absurd that America could miss him after less than a week.

But the feeling is mutual. Watching Alfie and Fiona reminded him of what he had waiting for him once he made sure Watson was safe.]

I miss you, as well. I was looking forward to seeing you.

[fifty]

Once you're back--I'll see you then. [America doesn't actually know if England is coming back. He turns on the video; his face is tracked with tears and he can't stop rubbing his eyes under his glasses, but this is as close as he can get to being with England right now.] Hey.

[keepscalm]

[If he comes back.

At first, England doesn't realise that America has turned on his video, as his gaze is elsewhere. He looks back down when America prompts him, and swears he can feel his heart crack at the sight. There have been times when he's deliberately caused America pain, but he's not sure he's ever seen America like this.

He's wary of turning on his video, since he knows he's not a pretty sight right now.] Hello, love.

D'you want me to turn mine on? [He'll leave it up to America. It might be the last time he sees England, after all.]

[fifty]

[America can feel the way the little, almost casual pet name claws through his heart. He sniffles.] It's up to you. 'Cause, I know how--if you want to wait for me to see you when you're better--y'know.

[keepscalm]

...I don't want the last time you see me to be like this. [And England knows it might not be the last time, but if it is, America is the one who will have to live with it. He tacks on another word out of consideration for America's hopes:] If.

[fifty]

If. [America clings to that like a lifeline.] But if you come back, you'll let me know right away, yeah?

[keepscalm]

Yeah. [He can't imagine doing anything else. Granted, it's getting hard to imagine anything right now; he stares at America's face on his tablet, but truly focusing on it is a chore.] You'll be the first to know.

[fifty]

[Don't fall asleep. It's what America wants to say, but at this point, would it matter? Would it be better if England fell asleep and never woke up, compared to fighting the whole time? Why does he have to think about this? Why can't he stop his brain from thinking about this? Why can't he stop this from happening? America smiles, since he wants England to see it at least one more time. It looks broken in a way he can't quite fix.] England. Darlin'. [The drawl sneaks in, a little, but vanishes again.] I wish I'd started dating you, like--decades ago.

[keepscalm]

[Darlin'. England thinks he must have imagined it at first. He sees America smiling on his tablet screen, but it looks all wrong.

He lifts the tablet to his face, resting his forehead against the screen where it can meet America's. He wishes he could be closer. At first, he answers without much thought, without really processing the words.] Yeah. Me too.

[A pause, and almost palpable thought and effort, before England sighs heavily and breathes out a few more words.] —loved you for a long time.

[fifty]

[England is never this candid, and the effort his words seem to be taking is so obvious America feels like he can see it even without England's video on. These aren't the circumstances America wanted to hear all of this in, but here they are regardless.] Me too. I should've--should've told you. Not telling you--it wasn't very heroic. [He's supposed to be a hero. Is this all he can do? Sit here and listen to England die?] Sorry. [He hiccups through a sob.] Sorry.

[keepscalm]

S'all right. I prob'ly didn't deserve it. [Did he say that out loud? Maybe. He's not really sure. He just can't stand the sound of America crying — it does awful things to him. But he can't fix it like this when he's the reason America is crying in the first place. It's so, so cold.] You don't have to be sorry.

[fifty]

Of course you deserved it! [America is loud and upset and insistent.] You deserve all sorts of good things, like, like going back home to your house with your tea and all your books and you can sit on your couch and embroider stuff and maybe, maybe I could sit next to you? Just, just really close, and watch, I always--I always thought that'd be really nice.