America sat on a bench, the shade of the trees behind him keeping his face from the sun. The wind blew lazily through his bangs, the rest of his hair covered by a stout black top-hat that matched the rest of his suit. He was suppost to be meeting someone here, but the latter had yet to show. America would not let this setback upset him as he preoccupied himself by watching the rotor-blimps float by on the skyway, the buildings behind them bobbing slightly in the breeze as they sat on their platforms. After the blimps had gone he turned his focus to his left, taking note as a haberdashery was pulled up to the edge of the plaza and locked down so that it wouldn't float away in the wind. 'Amazing how even the largest of buildings can fly away like a stray balloon up here.' he thought to himself.
"Hello old chap." A voice called to the very stoic America.
Without turning his head from the haberdashery he replied to England, "Hello to you to. I assume your presence here means that China has been dealt with?"
England became fidgety and nervous. "Um.. well... not entirely."
America's eyes grew dark as his face twisted into a display of anger and disappointment. He stood from his bench and ran at England, hitting him in the face with a gloved hand when he grew close enough. England fell to the ground and cupped the hand-shaped mark on his cheek. America moved to stand over him.
"What do you mean by not entirely?!" he roared to the crumpled figure lying in the grass.
Without moving, England quietly replied, "He held out through our attack, we didn't have enough force to bring him down... We did manage to wound him during the battle though, he lost an eye..."
Still furious, America bellowed, "You had an entire fleet of war blimps and Jingoists and you only managed to partially blind him?!"
Sheepishly, Britain replied, "Yes sir... I'm sorry we couldn't do more."
"There won't be anymore 'we's' for you you piece of shit!" America growled as he kicked the man in the side, "Now get the fuck up and back to your quarters you failure!"
England collected himself and stood to walk away, wiping tears away once he was at least hunched over. "Y-yes sir..." he said quietly as he sauntered away. America narrowed his eyes at England's back. "And if you cry in front of me again, China won't be the only person missing an eye..."
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America shot up in his bed, the moon illuminating his sweaty, troubled face. Putting his head in his hand, he rubbed his eyes. 'Not again..' he said to himself. This night marked the eleventh time that he had been torn awake by that reoccurring nightmare. 'I would never hit Iggy! Never, never!' He rose from his bed and walked over to his wash-basin. After splashing the cold water into his face, he looked up into his gilded mirror. He looked better than he felt, the only difference in his face being the small bags that has formed under his eyes, the many restless nights being the cause. He sighed and reached for his pocket watch. Flipping it open, he read 2:00 a.m.
He didn't bother to change out of his silken pyjamas before sleepily walking out of his room and to the stairwell; the kitchen being his priority seeing as his slumber had been ruined by the repeated nightmare. He stopped on the landing to hear a noise coming from his destination. He didn't have to think twice as to who it was.
"Lithuania! How many times have I told you to stop doing your chores this early!" he called down to the kitchen in a friendly and joking tone. Lithuania only fumbled his words as he tried to respond, to scared by America's sudden outburst to form real words. America took in the mans confusion and laughed, the horrid dream no longer on his mind as he descended the stairs to help his friend with breakfast.
New story new adventure! Nothing really important to say except that I haven't forgotten the Epilogue series for F.O.I.D.H.P.O.T.B! That'll get finished soon.
Please review! Au revoir!