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"Again!?!" the cry came from the country of England.

France looked up from his book from his house. "What in the world?"

He closed the book and gently laid it on the table next to him and his wine. He picked up his cell phone and quickly and with ease dialed England's number. He waited for a moment while the phone rang.

"What?" the voice on the other line demanded.

"Are you alright?" France asked. "I heard a scream."

England snarled. France could distinctively hear the sound of paper being ripped into pieces. "I'm just fucking fine."

France rolled his eyes. "Yes I truly believe that. Now then." he said making himself comfortable in his couch once more. "Tell big brother what's wrong."

England snorted. "Trust me France. You are by no means my brother. Although if you were that would explain why I have this urge to kill you."

"I feel loved England. Now tell me what's wrong."

England sighed. "Those two did it again."

"Who?"

"Who do you think you frog?" England demanded. "America and Canada."

France could feel a smile starting. A quick glance at his calendar heightened that feeling. "What did they do?"

"They sent me cards. Again!"

"I do not see the problem with being sent cards."

"Mothers Day cards you idiotic frog."

"Again. I do not see the problem with them sending you cards." France repeated.

"I am not their mother!" England yelled. "I am their father!"

France rolled his eyes. "England."

"What?"

"We all know our places in our family." France said. "You just have to accept it."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

France sighed. He massaged his temple with a single finger as he carefully said "England. I am the father. You are the mother. America and Canada are our children."

There was a silence on the other end of the line.

France frowned slightly. "England?"

Silence.

"England." he sang slightly.

Silence.

Throwing another look at the phone France shrugged and closed it. He thankfully picked up his book once more.

Cradling the wine glass in his hand he sipped at it without taking his eyes off the book.

"Ah Quasimodo." he sighed. "The depths of your love truly knows no bounds, does it?"

He was suddenly aware of what seemed to be the ground shaking.

"What in this…" he murmured. Regretfully placing both the wine and the book on the table he stood. Was this an earthquake? He had not felt the earth shift for one to happen.

Suddenly his door flew off its hinges.

An aggravated and out of breathe England stood in the doorway.

France cocked his head to the side. "England? You had me worried when you didn't say anything on the phone."

England's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to kill you!" he screamed before leaping at France.

Gracefully France moved to the side and avoided the flying England.

His bookcase however was not so lucky.

He winced as his books went flying into the air. It will take forever to resort them.

France crossed his arms. "Why are you so aggravated England? Our children sent you cards for today and you act like this?"

A sudden thought entered his mind as he remembered a sound he had heard from their conversation on the phone. His eyes narrowed as he asked "And what did you do with the cards?"

"What do you think?" England demanded as he stood from the pile of books. He dusted himself off and stepped carefully away. "I ripped them and threw them out."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because it is idiotic and preposterous to think of me as the mother." England snapped.

"No it's the right thing." France said.

"If anyone is the mother then its you!" England screamed.

"How so?"

"I am the stronger one. I am the more powerful one. I was the one who raised them to their adulthood." England said.

"You know if Hungary heard you say the first two she might take it the wrong way and attack you."

"Shut up." he hissed. "And look at you!"

France made the motion of looking at himself up and down. "Yes?"

"You look like a woman with your long hair."

"And my beard?"

"You wear dresses!"

"Only the more fashionable ones."

"You…you…"

"You are going to have high blood pressure if you continue like this."

"I'm a bloody nation." England mumbled.

"Still." France said walking to the mess of books. He leaned down and picked them up before carefully categorizing them back in their order. Years had taught him that England will never apologize so it was useless to wait for one.

England silently watched as France placed each book back in its rightful place.

"If you're the so-called father." England sneered. "Then why don't they send you Fathers Day cards."

"They do." France answered not glancing up from the spine of the book in his hands.

"What?"

With his free hand France pointed to his fireplace mantel. England followed the path.

Two cards sat on top of it along side pictures. Both were handmade. The words on the cover and inside were written in crayon and in French. It was almost childish in their neatness.

"Every Fathers Day since its first time as a holiday." France said.

Finally placing the last book in place he turned to England. "And if how they treated me on each Fathers Day is similar to how they will treat you then we must get to your house and tape up those cards immediately because they will be coming soon to take you out to dinner."

Without another word the two left Frances house and started towards England's.

"You honestly don't think do you?" France asked.

"Shut up."

They stopped suddenly when they saw England's door wide opened.

"Were you in such a hurry to see me that you forgot to lock your door?" France asked.

England wordlessly shook his head. He slowly walked up to his porch.

France caught a glance at his driveway and relaxed. "America's motorcycle is here, it's probably him and Canada."

The color drained from England's face. The two of them entered his house together.

Americas back met their sight in the kitchen. He was sitting at the table and was slumped over slightly.

"America?" England asked carefully walking slightly.

He was bumped to the side however when Canada entered the kitchen. He didn't look at either England or France. Wordlessly he handed one of the packs in his hands to America.

They each had a roll of tape. And on the table were the remains of the cards.

In almost unison they pulled a piece of tape and started to put the tattered cards together.

England didn't say a single word nor did he look up from the floor. France bowed his head slightly.

Both of them raised their heads when it sounded that they were done.

Two cards were standing on the table again, tape all over it although the words were still clearly visible.

Together America and Canada picked up the cards gently and laid them on the table. Then they stood up and walked towards the door.

"America. Canada. Please wait." England pleaded.

They ignored him as they left the house with England following them.

France could hear the rumble of America's motorcycle before it took off. England came back into his house.

"I…feel terrible." England said quietly.

France nodded. "I don't mean anything with this but you should."

England picked up the cards. "I thought they were joking every year that they did this. I didn't know that they were serious."

"They were."

"Can you stop stating the obvious?" England asked irritated.

"I don't quite know." France said shrugging. "What are you going to do?"

England was quiet for a moment before he quietly said "I don't know."