I'd like to thank my friend on another website for giving me the amazing idea and headcanon that in the 2p world, Italy is America's dad. Moony, you know who you are, and I dedicate this to you~
Chapter 1
Insanity is not a simple thing that comes lightly. Despite contrary belief, insanity is not liking blood or gore, or being different; it means you're unique. It is not committing mass murder; that is bloodthirst. But what insanity is, what it truly is, in its most simple sense, is being detached from the world. Being detached from yourself, like you aren't even there anymore, just an empty shell in a vibrant world full of life. Insanity is when you are not yourself.
England sat quietly on a bench in the park, watching the people pass by with a solemn expression on his face. The country had been falling apart from the inside lately; he had been feeling sort of depressed. He really didn't have any special skills to busy himself on, everyone but his... Slightly strange friends -Romano, Germany, and Belarus- ignored him or just outright detested him. Playing with his dark gray bowtie, his attire was as dark and moody as usual, like a huge stormcloud was hanging over him. His pale blue eyes glanced up to spot someone, and he did so in surprise; it was a man completely unexpected to be here at a park, and towing along something even more strange; a baby carriage, for twins.
Italy passed by England, not even noticing the depressed country as he hurried pushed the carriage along. The usually bad-tongued and tempered Italian always had a cruel word to cast at anyone he came across, but now he just appeared to be agitated and in a rush. He only paused when England called out his name.
"Italy! Hey! Wait!" It was the first thing that had sparked his interest in a while, and he wasn't going to allow it to pass by so easily.
"What the h*ll do you want?" The Italian snapped, turning the carriage around so he could glare at England. Inside it, the Englishman could see two twin babies, both male and newborns. One had a light blonde fuzz on the top of his head; the other dark brown. Fascinated by this, he stared at them a moment, then turned his attention back to Italy. "What's with the babies?"
"None of your business, freakshow!" Italy snarled, then hesitated for a moment. "I mighta met a girl... Look, it's none of your sh!t to worry about, I already killed their mom and I'm throwing them off at an orphanage."
"Oh... What are their names?"
"I named 'em their country names, but their mama gave this one-" He pointed down at the blond infant; "Matthew, and the other is Alfred. Country names, Canada and America."
"Why bother naming them if they already have names and they're never going to know they're countries?"
"The irony. Oh. Hey. Can you watch 'em for a sec? I gotta go eat. Plenty of little kids at the park, right?" Not even bothering to wait for England's answer, he dashed off in the direction of a group of children, innocently playing around an oak tree.
After watching Italy for a moment, England diverted his attention back to the two babies that were resting in the carriage a few feet away, soundly asleep. He reached his naturally pale hand out to grab it and pull it closer, then practically shoved his face inside to get a closer look at the infants. One of the babies -the dark haired one, named America- opened his eyes and stared straight into England's pale blue ones, apparently disrupted from his nap, yet not expressing any sign of fear at all.
To England, those eyes were the most beautiful he had ever seen; dark ruby red, with a bit of a shine in their depths, so intelligent and attentive. He wasn't even afraid, merely curious. While the newborn's twin brother continued to sleep on, America reached his tiny, chubby fist out to England's face and gently touched his nose for a moment before grabbing it roughly. Even though it was only a baby, it actually hurt quite a lot, with so much strength in one minuscule hand.
England yelped in surprise and immediately pulled back, causing a tiny sound of pain from the child as his arm was accidentally yanked as well and he started bawling loudly, attracting the attention of everyone around him and getting disapproving glances. Panicking, he reached into the carriage and pulled out the infant, and held him close against his chest, making soft shushing noises to attempt to quiet him.
To his surprise, America almost immediately quieted down, and rested his head against England's chest. Right then, the Englishman's heart exploded from the sweetness of this kid. He'd never heard of someone being inspired to live again because of a child, but here he was, he could just feel his depression lifting as joy took its place. He knew then he couldn't just allow him to go off to the orphanage; he had a better idea. Italy didn't want him anyways, did he?
Setting America, who had drifted back off into sleep again, back in the carriage, he made plans for the other child, Canada, as well. He couldn't keep up with two babies, but he had narrowed his choices of parents for the little blonde down to two: France or Romano.
Glancing around like a thief, which he technically was, he whistled suspiciously and trotted off with the infants in tow.
England felt happier than he had in months.
Hope you liked! I love reviews, favorites, and follows, so why not give one, please?~ In the reviews, you can express your opinion on who gets baby 2p Canada! 2p Romano... Or 2p France? Dun dun dun.
