Canada choked back the tears as he ran, hand held to his face where England had struck him. The young colony knew that his 'father' had not really meant to strike out at him like he had, but the fact remained that Canada had once again been mistaken for his brother and England had been too angry to notice his mistake until it was too late. Canada finally stumbled over a tussock of grass and ended up sprawled on the ground. The little colony picked himself up and hiccoughed miserably, wiping at his eyes furiously. He squeaked and shuffled back as a shadow fell over him,
"Hey, hey wee one, it's a'right." A gruff voice hushed, "It's only me." Canada looked up only to see his uncle crouch down beside him, face filled with concern. The colony looked down at the ground, sniffling, which only solicited a frown from the older country. Scotland looked his nephew over as the little colony curled up into a ball. He sighed as he sat down next to him, "C'mere and tell yer auld uncle whit that eejit's done tae ye." Canada gulped back tears as he answered the country,
"A… Angleterre était fou chez l'Amérique et…" he whimpered in French, too upset to even attempt to explain the situation in English. Scotland frowned again as he replied in kind, hoping to calm the youngster down somewhat so he could get to the bottom of this,
"Il vous a confondu avec l'Amérique encore oui ?" Canada looked up at his uncle in surprise, still sniffling,
"Vous parlez français?" He asked quietly, wiping at his eyes, but taking care to cover to mark England had given him with his hair. Scotland smiled softly and nodded,
"Oui, votre papa et moi sont les amis très bons." He explained, "Maintenant que s'est produit?" he asked patiently. Canada looked down at the ground again, he really didn't want to cause trouble to everyone, not even England. After all, his father hadn't really meant to do what he did. Scotland frowned,
"Le Canada, que l'Angleterre a-t-elle fait à vous?" he asked, voice wavering into a warning tone, causing the little colony to flinch. Scotland growled in irritation. Not towards Canada, but towards his youngest brother. He tilted Canada's head so that the colony was looking at him. His eyes widened in shock when he noticed the ugly mark on the boy's cheek. Canada's lip quivered at the look,
"Il ne l'a pas voulu dire. Il était simplement fâché avec Alfred…" he said, his voice becoming panicked. Scotland frowned in confusion at first, but seeing that it was still upsetting the colony he sighed heavily,
"Il n'importe pas s'il était fâché chez Alfred. Il ne devrait pas se précipiter comme ceci." He replied, "Restez ici, j'irai avoir un mot avec lui." He said, ruffling Canada's hair gently. Canada's eyes widened,
"Non ! C'est mon défaut, je devrais avoir dit l'Angleterre que je n'étais pas l'Amérique plus tôt." Scotland froze at the words. The colony was claiming that him being hurt was his fault? He turned back to the little colony,
"Ne dites pas de telles choses! Ce n'est pas votre défaut." He told the young boy sharply. He switched back to English, "Let me hae a word wi' England, lad, I promise that I won't do anything to him." He assured the colony. Canada sniffled and nodded slowly,
"All right." He agreed, his accent still fairly thick. Scotland smiled and ruffled Canada's hair again,
"There's a lad." He said softly, "You stay here and I'll be back afore ye know it." Canada hiccoughed as he wrapped his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest as he watched his uncle leave. When he was sure the colony could not see his expression, Scotland scowled, wondering if he would in fact manage to keep his promise to his nephew given what had happened. He growled as he marched to England's house. Oh he was going to have words with his brother all right.
England huffed in irritation. He had looked everywhere for Alfred after the boy had run off. He was not done berating the boy and though he knew the general direction he thought the colony had run off in he could not seem to find him anywhere.
"OI! Wee one!" a voice snapped from behind him. England started a little, what was Scotland doing here and why did he sound so pissed off? He turned to face the Scotsman,
"Yes Scotland what is it?" he snapped back, "Make it quick, I'm busy." Scotland scowled at his brother, crossing his arms over his chest,
"Ye still looking fer the laddie?" he asked. England snorted,
"Yes I'm still looking for him." He paused, realising something, "Wait... how did you know I was looking for the boy?" he asked. Scotland's scowl deepened into a glare,
"Hows about because ye went and smacked the wrang one?" he snapped, fighting the impulse to connect his fist with his brother's face. England looked confused,
"Smacked the wrong one?" he asked, "Alfred was asking for it Scotland, the little ingrate..." he trailed off as Scotland grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled his youngest brother to his face,
"That wisnae America," he snarled, "It wis Canada, and noo the wee laddie is sat in ma hoose convinced that it's his ain fault that you mistook him fer his brother! Again!" England's words died in his throat as he realised the awful mistake he had made,
"I... I thought..." he stuttered as Scotland continued glaring at his brother,
"Ye thought whit? That it was perfectly alright to hit the wee bairn withoot even checkin' ye had the right one? Or did ye forget ye have two of them runnin' aboot?" he asked quietly, his voice becoming dangerous. When England didn't reply he snorted, "Be glad I a'ready promised the bairn that I wouldnae dae anythin' tae ye." He threatened, letting his brother drop to the floor, "Noo git back doon the road tae yer ain hoose. Ye'll likely find the troublemakin' bairn ye're actually looking for there." He warned. England picked himself up, took one frightened look at his oldest brother, turned and started walking swiftly back the way he'd come. Scotland watched him go for a few moments before snorting and turning back to go back to his own house. He glanced at the faerie that had turned up at his side,
"How is the wee one?" he asked it. The little creature fluttered its wings,
"He's asleep, Nessie's keeping an eye on him at the moment." It replied. Scotland nodded in appreciation,
"Ta wee one." He said, "I'd best go and get him tae bed. There's no way I'm sending him doon to stay wi' Arthur tonight." He scowled again, taking a glance over his shoulder to make sure that England was good and gone, "I've a mind to keep the laddie wi' me until Francis comes fer another visit." He snorted. The faerie fluttered its wings cautiously,
"Would that be wise?" it asked, "Arthur did seem very upset when you pointed out his mistake..." Scotland sighed heavily,
"Aye, I'm sure he regrets it now," he agreed, "but honestly, I dinnae want to send the bairn back doon only tae get forgotten aboot again." He pointed out. The faerie seemed to think for a moment,
"We could keep an eye on matters for you if you want?" it offered, "Arthur doesn't even have to know that we're there." Scotland smiled a little as he gently batted the little creature away from in front of his eyes,
"Actually that's no' a bad idea. At least then I could be sure the wee one was bein' watched o'er." The faerie nodded and flew off ahead, presumably to make sure that Canada was still ok.
When Scotland arrived back in the clearing he saw little Canada curled up into a ball, fast asleep. Nessie cooed when she saw Scotland approach the little colony. Scotland smiled and patted the monster's nose,
"Thanks fer watchin' him lass." He told her, "I'll take o'er and take him tae bed." He said, picking the still sleeping child up, trying not to wake him. He wasn't entirely successful as Canada stirred sleepily. The faeries and other creatures instantly vanished as the little colony opened his eyes and stared up at his uncle,
"Oncle Ecosse?" he muttered, "Is Angleterre alright?" he asked sleepily. Scotland sighed a little, but smiled and nodded anyway,
"Aye lad, he's fine. He's still lookin' fer yer brother. He said with a slight chuckle, "Dinnae you worry yer wee heid aboot either of them fer now alright?" Canada nodded slowly,
"Alright." He agreed quietly. Scotland's expression softened as he got up to his house,
"C'mon I'll gie ye a bath, somethin' tae eat and ye can stay o'er fer the night. How's that sound?" he asked, giving Canada one of his rare bright smiles. Canada smiled back,
"That would be nice." He said, he was starting to feel a little better now, "Can you make shortbread?" he asked, looking up at his uncle with wide eyes. Scotland laughed,
"I'll see if I've got the stuff in tae make it." He said, "but if no' ye'll hae to settle fer some tablet I've got setting in the larder." Canada giggled,
"I don't mind." He said, his smile widening. Scotland chuckled as he carried the colony up the stairs,
"Fair dos," he replied, "but let's get that bath sorted first eh?"
Translation notes {these are generalised rather than literal}.
"A… Angleterre était fou chez l'Amérique et…" {"E...England was angry with America and..."}
"Il vous a confondu avec l'Amérique encore oui ?" {"He confused you with America again, yes?"}
"Vous parlez français?" {"You speak French?"}
"Oui, votre papa et moi sont les amis très bons." {"Yes, your papa and I are very good friends."}
"Maintenant que s'est produit?" {"Now what's the matter?"}
"Canada, que l'Angleterre a-t-elle fait à vous?" {"Canada, what did England do to you?"}
"Il ne l'a pas voulu dire. Il était simplement fâché avec Alfred…" {"It's not his fault. He was angry with Alfred..."
"Il n'importe pas s'il était fâché chez Alfred. Il ne devrait pas se précipiter comme ceci." {"It doesn't matter if he's angry with Alfred. He shouldn't have lashed out like that."}
"Restez ici, j'irai avoir un mot avec lui." {"Stay here, I'll go and talk to him."}
"Non! C'est mon défaut, je devrais avoir dit l'Angleterre que je n'étais pas l'Amérique plus tôt." {"No! It's my fault. I should have told England I wasn't America sooner."}
"Ne dites pas de telles choses! Ce n'est pas votre défaut." {"Don't say that. This was not your fault."}
