England hummed as he pulled out the old books. He had spent the afternoon trying to alphabetize the books by author's name; America's last visit had left them in a shambles, with Tolkien next to Campbell and Shakespeare in the beginning! He pulled out yet another book, automatically glancing at the front of the book to see what the name was.
To his surprise, there was no name, just a simple black cover. Confusion wrinkled his brow, and he walked to the table absent-mindedly, flipping it open to see if it said on the title page.
An old, wrinkled paper fell from the middle of the book, landing soundlessly on the floor.
What on Earth? England stooped over to pick it up. His eyes widened upon recognizing it. "I… I thought this had gotten thrown away…" He sat in a chair, reading over the lyrics to the song, the lullaby he'd written for America long ago, had sung to him every night in his childhood…
Come stop your crying, it will be all right
Just take my hand, hold it tight
I will protect you from all around you
I will be here, don't you cry
For one so small, you seem so strong
My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm
This bond between us can't be broken
I will be here, don't you cry
"Iggy! Iggy!" little America cried, racing into England's bedroom, jumping on top of him. "Iggy!"
"What is it?" England asked sleepily, sitting up in the bed. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"Y-y-yeah," he sniffled. "I-I dreamed that th-there was a t-t-t-terrible m-monster th-that came, and it was t-t-trying to take you a-a-away!"
England smiled comfortingly, hugging the boy tightly to him. "That would never happen," he whispered into America's ear.
"Y-you mean it, Iggy?" America asked, using the nickname because he was too young to say his full name.
"Of course I do." England held America close. "I would never let anything like that happen to you."
'Cause you'll be in my heart
Yes, you'll be in my heart
From this day on, now and forever more
You'll be in my heart
No matter what they say
You'll be here in my heart, always
England wiped a tear from his cheek as he looked through the old photo album, remembering the days when America had lived with him, depended on him, needed him… He ran a tender finger over a picture of a somewhat older America, holding out a chocolate ice cream cone, already having made a horrible mess with it on his shirt and face. England smiled, remembering that day…
"Iggy, I want chocolate!" America demanded, stamping a foot.
England sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, but all we have is vanilla. You're going to have to settle for what we have, little America."
"B-but…" America stared up at England with his wide blue eyes. "I was gonna share it with Canada… he likes chocolate best…" He stared down at his shoes. "I… I guess I could get vanilla…"
England took a long look at America, feeling his heart melt as he stared at the still adorable boy, staring at his shoes so innocently. He sighed, fishing in his pocket. "Here." He gave America a handful of money. "Go… go buy a chocolate one."
"Yay!" America took the money and dashed away. "Thanks, Iggy!"
England swallowed past the thick lump in his throat, his hand tenderly caressing the picture. His other hand reached up to brush more tears away.
Why can't they understand the way we feel
They just don't trust what they can't explain
I know we're different but, deep inside us
We're not that different at all
England turned the page, his misty eyes falling upon a different picture, one of America, now a young teenager, clearly thinking he was the greatest thing ever. He always did think he was the bloody hero, England remembered with a slight chuckle. That he could save everything and everyone…
"That's it!" America shouted. "That bastard's gonna get what's coming to him!"
England sighed, putting his hand on America's shoulder. "Now, America, don't overreact. I'm sure that he-"
"But that bastard said that you were gonna kick me out!" America interrupted angrily. "He was sayin' that you-"
England shook his head. "Calm down, America. You can't explain to every bloody idiot out there why they're wrong. It's good enough for us to know the truth." He smiled over at America. "Now, why don't we go get something to eat?"
And you'll be in my heart
Yes, you'll be in my heart
From this day on
Now and forever more
Don't listen to them 'cause what do they know
We need each other, to have, to hold
They'll see in time, I know
England closed his eyes, remembering those days, when America had thought the world of him… when he could do anything…
The sudden sound of the doorbell startled him out of his thoughts. Closing the notebook and hiding it back on the shelf, he wiped all traces of the fresh tears from his eyes, hiding the fact that he had been crying, then answered the door in as gentlemanly a way he could muster.
"America! What in the bloody hell are you doing here?" England swallowed. "You're not going to rearrange the bloody bookcase again, are you? I only just got it fixed from yesterday!"
America laughed. "Naw, dude, I've got somethin' to show ya." He grinned, holding up a movie.
England frowned. "A cartoon?" he scoffed. "It looks like a person in their bloody underwear!"
America shook his head impatiently. "It's a cool movie. Besides, there's a song in it just for you!" He grinned, pushing the case at him. "It's one I used to hear ya singing a lot, so I took it and had someone make it sound good. Of course he wanted the rights, so I gave 'em to 'im. That okay with you?"
England shook his head. "I don't know what the bloody hell ever you could have heard me singing that would fit this," he laughed. "If you could find a bloody song that fit, sure."
America shook his head, snatching the tape back and putting it in to England's television set to watch it. "Dude, it's Tarzan. Who wouldn't love it?"
England shook his head, but his smile dissolved as he watched the movie, heard the song that was playing.
His lullaby.
He held back tears as he heard it, listened to the song that he had made up for America… sung so many times…
When destiny calls you, you must be strong
I may not be with you, but you've got to hold on
They'll see in time, I know
We'll show them together
'Cause you'll be in my heart
Believe me, you'll be in my heart
From this day on, now and forever more
"Dude, are you seriously crying?" America looked over at England with surprise. "I mean, I know it was a good movie, but…"
England wiped his eyes angrily. "Bloody hell," he growled, "I just got something in my eye." He stood, turning away from America. "I've got to go make some bloody scones," he lied again, taking the chance to get out of America's sight. "I'll be back in a moment."
By the time he returned, America had fallen asleep, his head resting on the cushion of the couch. England's glare softened, and he sat down beside the sleeping nation. With the gentleness and care of a father, he moved America's head so that it was resting in his lap. England ran his fingers through the other country's soft hair, as he had so many times in the past, when America was younger and had fallen asleep after a wonderful day of laughing and fun. Tears fell once more down his cheeks as he began to sing the last verse of the song, America's lullaby, in a version that, though not sung by a professional singer and not recorded in a large studio or in front of an audience, was undeniably the most heartfelt of all.
Oh, you'll be in my heart
No matter what I say
You'll be in my heart, always
Always