When I couldn't
America had never noticed it before. When they'd first gotten home, he'd never seen England sleep. After much cajoling, England had managed to convince the nurses to set up a little cot for him so he could stay in the same room even though he didn't need medical attention himself. Canada had skipped the cot altogether, opting instead to share the same bed with his twin. America had always been a little afraid of the dark, and the time back in that mansion where no one could escape the shadows, even in sleep, had only made it worse. So when he'd finally been able to close his eyes and drift off, the black pits behind his eyelids made his heart pound. What if this was a dream? What if this was all just a dream and when he opened eyes they'd be back there again, back to that horrid place where fear was all that lived, fear and loss.
So England sat at his side, as he used to when the nation was small, patiently waiting for him to fall asleep, sitting with his hand on the bed where America could reach over and touch it when he needed to know he wasn't alone, doubled by the feel of Canada's warm body asleep beside him. After the first couple of weeks, America began to calm down as repeated incidents of sleeping convinced him everything was okay again. Then England went off every night to sleep in his own room, and America wouldn't see him till the next morning.
This night, the first night home after over a month in the hospital in Italy, America woke to the sound of muffled sniffling. He was a very light sleeper now, and often woke up briefly throughout the night. Always before, he simply rolled over and went back to sleep, but tonight he blinked himself further awake, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.
Looking to the side where his twin slept deeply, snoring lightly in a sign of pleasant dreams, he came fully awake when he realized there was only one place it could come from. In shock, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked across the room to the other bed. He could only see a vague lump and a light blur that he thought was hair, but the quiet sounds continued. A barely audible sob, muffled under the blankets, pierced through the air and lanced right into America's heart. As quietly as he could, he slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the floor, moving under the cover of the sounds England was making.
When he came closer, he saw that England lay facing the wall, his entire face buried in blankets and his spare pillow, leaving his back exposed. "Iggy?" America whispered, gently touching his side.
England immediately stiffened and fell silent for a moment or two, as though wondering whether he could get away with it or not. Then he seemed to realize there was no way to pretend he hadn't just been crying, and rolled onto his back. The dim light from behind the curtains illuminated streaks down his face, and America knelt down so they could look each other in the eye.
"What is it?" he whispered, not wanting to wake their other brother. "Did you have nightmare or something?"
Another sob broke out of England's mouth, and he pressed a hand against it to muffle it again. He squeezed his eyes shut, then mumbled past his fingers, "I...you…you were…"
The tears were coming faster now, the heaving breaths shaking England's whole body. America tried to quiet him, rubbing his side soothingly. "Shh, I'm here, Bro, I'm here."
"…You were gone..."
"I'm right here. And I'll be here tomorrow, too. I'm not going anywhere."
But his words didn't seem to be helping. England pulled away, turning back to the wall and curling up with his hands over his head, still shedding tears he fought to suppress. Finally he spoke. "I kn-know it's stupid. I know you're right there. But a-all this time, I've always...I see the times when…and…both of you…When I couldn't…"
America stared at his brother's back. All this time? Had he been crying ever since they'd gotten home? He remembered his own adjustments to their new situation, the tension that had suddenly left him once they were safe and together. England had seemed the same as usual, grumpy, sour and overprotective. America knew that Canada had gone through a similar breakdown as his own. But, England? What if...what if his adjustment had been just as hard as theirs? What if England held himself together for his little brothers, only to break down as soon as they were apart?
And, they had been selfish enough to think they were the only ones suffering.
To his knowledge, England had never cried during their time in the mansion. After everything, he held himself strong and together. America hadn't seen his big brother so broken up since the revolution.
But now...now that the monster was gone, they'd come home, and their lives were normal again... Now he could let go of all the restraints.. And just like America had needed a hand to hold and a voice to tell him he was safe even though the darkness was scary, maybe England needed someone to see him through the night as well.
America perched on the edge of the bed and heaved England upright. Ignoring the surprised intake of breath, America wrapped his arms around his brother and rocked him gently from side to side. "…I couldn't either," he murmured.
And the rain began to fall.
Another freakishly random one shot, obviously AU set after HetaOni and written because I felt like it. Blame pwnedbypineapple and kakashi323 for writing such epic HetaOni stories and making me want to write one as well. This one's pretty lame, I know, but whatever…I only seem to be posting stuff about the ACE brothers…probably because they're my favorite characters. :3 As brothers, they seriously need more love. I have tons of drafts and first chapters for some Epic APH and other fandom chapter stories but, I've sort a promised myself I won't post anything like that until I've at least updated three of my current running fics. We'll see how that works out.
This was [obviously] not meant to be USUK or whatever, but as long as you don't say anything to me, you can ship it whatever you want.
Review and I might not kill/torture Iggy in my next fic…or if you'd like to see him dead, review faster~
[Although I think I feel like killing Veneziano next. *grins evilly*]
Hasta la Pasta
-Faith