"Look at you. Look at me; and see the man I've become."
Those words rang in my ears long after I'd heard them. I stared at him; what he said was, indeed, true. He'd become a man with no one knowing. I'd entered my own adulthood with a crash-boom-bang and fireworks, but he'd...just skated by, no celebration. It was the fact that he was forgotten that made him such a dangerous enemy. But his broken glasses and shattered heart made him blind to everything around him, both literally and metaphorically. I could see this, sparkling in those beautiful, violet eyes I'd always been jealous of. This person...this person was no enemy, no traitor. He was who he always was, always sorry for things that weren't his fault.
My brother, Canada, was lying there, trying to collect the scraps of his former glory. His exhausted body was mangled and trashed, his clothes were ripped, and half of his face was red with sticky blood. I gently fell to my knees, the realization hitting me.
I had done this.
How on earth could I have hurt my innocent brother like that?
"...I can't do this. I can't just stand by and let Jackson make me hurt you anymore."
The damn bastard. He was a great general, granted; but of his morals and motives, no one was sure. The only thing that was positive is that he was ruthless, and if I didn't help my brother out now, he'd be dead within a fortnight.
"I-I-It's okay, America, I'm f-f-fine," Canada told me. Of course, the Canadian modesty.
"God, you are such a liar, Mattie." I wiped some of the dirt off his face, and he smiled at me. "T-Thanks, brother..."
"'Course."
I was immediately alerted to a presence. A group of soldiers was approaching. Canada heard it too, and started shivering in fear. "G-Go, America. They'll find you if you don't. Go. Please."
I shook my head. "Let them come. Like hell I'm leaving you alone. I'm going to stop this." I stood up, and offered my hand out to Canada.
My brother, the victim of a war that's cause was forgotten. He looked at my hand, and took it, and started to struggle to his feet. I bent down, and wrapped my arms around him to help him up.
"A-America?"
"Ya, bro?"
"...I'm sorry I burned your Capitol..."
I sighed, and gave a shaky smile. "It's not your fault. We're still brothers, Matthew, just corrupted by our bosses. Now come on, let's go."
The war was just about over. The sky was pretty cloudy out, and cold. The green fields, once running red with the blood of those killed, were now freshly clean and washed by the rains that had just fallen. Matthew and I were trudging along slowly; or rather, I was dragging him, and he was weakly attempting to walk by himself. I helped him, of course. It was no problem.
And then he came.
Andrew Jackson, 7th President of the United States.
I paused. He looked at me, anger flashing in his eyes. "...what are you doing with him? He's a redcoat." I growl. I resent that statement.
"Is that ALL you people care about? Who's on what side of a war that there's no clear cause for?"
"You can't have loyalties on the other side of the line."
"He's my brother, of course I'm going to have loyalties to him, whether he's the enemy or not-! And I'm American, I'll do whatever the hell I want. Besides, the war's over."
Everyone stared at me as I gently talked to Matthew, who nodded, and I let go of him. He stood shakily as I fiercely marched back to Jackson.
"...listen. I respect you. I appreciate what you've done for my country. But if you ever get near my brother again, by these proud United States of America, I will kill you."
It was an unclear, more recent time later, and it was the World Meeting. America was gabbing as usual, Norway was hiding under the table (as usual), Sealand was bugging England. As usual. Everything was fairly normal...except a certain Canadian in the corner.
He'd been having flashbacks. Flashbacks that disrupted his sleep pattern, and haunted him. Little did Matthew realize that America knew this. As he talked, the American glanced anxiously at his twin. Canada looked quite uncomfortable, and as soon as a break was called, America ran over to talk to him.
"Heyyyy, Mattie~ Wanna go for a walk?"
Canada looked pleasantly surprised, curl bobbing as he nodded his head and smiled. "Sure."
"Let's go before Britain nabs us~"
The two exited the conference building, and walked in silence for a while. Birds chirped, and Matthew hummed quietly. America looked at him, and smiled. They paused at a bench, which America took a seat on. He motioned to Canada, who sat down next to him.
"...feels like ages since we've talked, Mattie."
"Y-Yeah, time flies..."
The two-line conversation was followed up by more silence.
"...do you remember, Al?"
America looked at Canada as that was said, the speaker staring off into the distance.
"...yeah, I remember."
"...I think I had a little too much fun burning your Capitol."
America laughed. "Yeah, you were havin' a heck of a field day with that oil, weren't ya Mattie~?"
"Yep...you were pretty angry. It was kinda fun to watch. But you came to in the end~"
"Going back to being the hero..." America sighed wistfully. "I haven't been feeling so heroic lately, ya know..."
"...I still think you're a paragon. A luminary, the bringer of divine retribution."
Al chuckled. "You've always had such the way with words, Matthew. I don't even know what half the crap you just said means."
Canada smiled to himself. "I know..." he said quietly, frowning slightly and looking at his hands.
The smile disappeared from the American's face. He nudged Canada gently with his shoulder. "Mattie."
Matthew stared down at the ground.
"Canada, look at me." America cupped Canada's chin with his index finger. Those shocking violet eyes connected with his aqua.
America smiled.
"Look at us. Look at the men we've become. Someone once told me that, and it really opened my eyes, ya know?"
"Yeah...I'm just...I'm so sorry...that you had to...um, rescue me...and that you risked so much..."
A grin crept across America's face.
"Even if it had meant sacrificing ten thousand liberties, I would have made the same decision in less than half a heartbeat."
=Fin=
A/N!: First off, I'm quite aware that the British burned down the Capitol, and that there are never any Canadian casualties mentioned in the War of 1812. Seriously, even history itself is making a bad pun. *shotsohard* Anyway, I just wanted...fluff. *-* I wanted 1812 fluff. Because I always write angst. Well...PLEASE, PLEASE DEAR GOD REVIEW. I need constructive criticism. Don't be afraid to lay it on me, sweets.
