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"You won't remember anything."
America felt himself go cold. He stared at England, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. He'd lose his memories? Carrying England to bed, England singing him to sleep, England laughing joyfully for the first time in centuries; he wouldn't remember any of it? The thought made him feel sick.
"Can't you do anything?" America asked, trying to keep desperation out of his voice. He didn't want to forget anything, wanted to cherish these memories.
"It's the only way," England said solemnly, still refusing to make eye contact. "There's no other way to make it work. I can't."
"Can't you just leave the things the way they are?"
England looked up at him, a pained look on his face. "No," he said. "I can't. I have to change things back to the way they were."
"Why?" America asked, no longer caring how pathetic his voice sounded. "Why? What if I like things the way they are?"
"You like things the way they are because of the blasted curse!" England said, exasperated. "Why can't you realize that? That's why you feel like this! It's not real!"
It's not real. Those three words were like a punch to the stomach. America just stared at him, not wanting to believe this. It couldn't be fake. It didn't feel fake! He knew what he was feeling, and it couldn't all be a lie!
"England," America pleaded. "England, please. I love you. Don't do this."
"I have no choice," he said, jumping up from the couch. "I have to return things to normal. And I can't have you going around saying that you love me when I don't return those feelings."
Another blow to the stomach, only this time it felt like a knife. "You don't… love me back?"
"Of course not!" England answered harshly, eyes fiery. "I'd never look at you like that! And everything will be better when you stop acting so stupid!"
America jumped up from the couch to look England in the eye. "You think showing actual affection is stupid?" he cried.
"Love and affection have never had any purpose," England said, still denying America direct eye contact, "besides causing me grief."
"You didn't seem so grieved when you were raising me."
England finally looked at him, his green eyes radiating with anger. "I had been happy!" England yelled, making America jumped back as he lashed out, hitting him hard in the shoulder. "I had been happy, raising you! You were able to make me happy for the first time in my whole damn, bloody life! And then, then you left!"
Shoulder stinging, America stared at him, dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He hadn't been expecting him to bring up such a touchy subject. "England…"
"After everything I did for you!" England continued, cutting off America as he gripped him by the collar. "I raised you, fed you, cared for you, loved you! And then you left me! Left me like everyone else in the damn world did!"
"Because you pushed me away," America whimpered, trying to loosen England's grip on his shirt. "I loved you back, more than anything. But then you started trying to control me, stopped me from doing things. You didn't leave me another—"
"Shut up!" England cried, roughly shaking him. America felt his teeth snap together painfully, but didn't say anything. "I was trying to protect you! I didn't want you to make mistakes! You weren't ready for the world! I was trying to help you!"
