Don't Leave Me

Honesty

So I'm rewriting this chapter and like...Oliver is in it!?! What!?! XD my 12 year old self was so random. But let's see if we can make it work because I'm not really aiming to change the plot just edit and fix some inconsistencies))

Waking up I blinked confused to see my bedroom ceiling above me. Huh. Last I checked this is not where I passed out at.

Slowly sitting up I winced and tried to avoid putting pressure on both of my injured arms which was very difficult to do. Luckily my face seems to have healed because I at least don't feel any pain there. Great thing about being a nation is the speedy healing, though those whip wounds were deep so I guess it makes sense why they aren't fully healed.

Clash!

Jumping I looked around wildly as a loud crashing sound echoed through my house. For a second my mind jumped to Germany being here to finish the job...He's not though. No he wouldn't let me live in public just to kill me in private. That crash then could only be from England.

"Probably trying to cook." I mumbled to myself chuckling.

With a shake of my head I carefully swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood. Dizziness hit me and I had to lean against the wall to avoid falling. Once it passed though I slowly made my way out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen, "Iggy?" I called.

"In here dear!" His cheery voice called back.

Dear? Is he high?

Opening the kitchen door I paused watching as England bent down to pull something out of the oven. He wore his usual green uniform which made me relax, "Hey. How long was I out?"

England straightened up and as he did he spun on his heels.

That's not England. Nope definitely not.

"Oh shit Oliver sorry I thought you were...wait what's going on?" I asked and suddenly started wondering if maybe this was a nightmare.

Oliver gave a wicked grin as he set the beautifully perfect cake he baked onto the counter. Oliver is England's alternative form. Every nation has one, and usually both forms live separate most of the nations lives unless a big event happens. For example, during WWII many nations combined with their alternative versions as their morales and people twisted to fit the mixture better then the separation.

All of our alternates look mostly like ourselves same for some differences. Oliver has England's frame and height except his hair is more strawberry blonde and his eyes are this crazy blue with pink swirls. Usually he also wears very colorful outfits, but it seems he decided to dress like England today except for one bright pink bow tie. The biggest differences though are in the personalities. Usually our alternates are our darkest self. Sometimes they have some good skills we don't such as Oliver being able to cook.

"Artie had to go deal with some work stuff back at his nation. He left me to take care of you!" He grinned as he cut a piece of cake and laid it on a plate, "Now poppet you have to eat to get your strength back."

I frowned still unsure, "He left you here alone with me?" That doesn't make sense. England hates Oliver. He never really told me why, but one thing he did make clear was he hated Oliver with a passion.

Oliver walked over to me with the plate and held it out to me, "Who better to trust then a version of yourself dear?"

I mean that logic is sound to me. Shrugging I took the plate from him and quickly take a bite, "Ohmgadthisissogood!" I rambled off stuffing more of the deliciousness into my face.

Oliver's eyes flashed and his grin widened, "I made it specially for you." He gracefully moved to my side and led me to the table so I could sit and eat more, "It has a very special ingredient." A burst of giggles escaped him and I paused in my eating.