A/N: This is for my lovely reviewer JCSannell. Thanks for reviewing nearly every single one of my stories and nearly ever single chapter of each. This is for you dear!
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America couldn't believe that England had been a pirate once. He didn't look anything like one, no beared or tattoos, not even a hook for a hand. He also had manners that reminded him of a prince or something, pirates were suppossed to curse all the time and be rude to everyone. Finally England was too nice, he always read him stories or let him sleep in his bed when he was staying at his house.
Did this sound like a pirate, no.
So while England was busy sleeping on his couch America crept into his room and went over to the heavy chest that England brought every time he came over. It was made of wood and was worn, but still sturdy. He opened the heavy lid wincing at the creaking sound it made. He shuffled through the clothes, bottle of sommething, and paper to find a book. It was leather bound and the pages were yellow and smelled of salt. Ever curious, America snatched it up and opened it to see England's handwriting sprawled on it. He peeked back in the living room to see him still sleeping, deciding to take a chance he began to read.
...
It was cold as the water continued to splash on the boat. The winds were feirce and the constant booming of thunder made the night sleepless. All his shipmates were listening to the creaking of the boat wondering if Neptune would doom them and send them to the bottom of the sea. Their captain was the only one standing, if you call leaning heavily against the wall standing, and was staring at his compass with a disgruntled look.
"Captain why stare at the compass?" A man asked.
The captain raised his green eyes and glared at the man. "Shut up and get back to sleep before I whip the flesh off your bones." He snapped.
The man shrank back and even went as far as to shut his eyes. England tossed the compass in the air and caught it again. Tonight was the last night they were to be on the sea, and now they were cursed with this. He wanted to go out on the deck and curse the world to hell, but that would mean he would be going into that torrent. He huffed and grabbed a flask of rum out of his jacket pocket and downed a swallow, relishing in the burning sensation that went down his throat.
...
America looked up and shook his head. "This can't be England's diary he never has any adventures like this." He muttered while flipping through the pages. He stopped when he saw one with a bunch of red drops on it.
...
England wiped his mouth of the blood that dripped from it. "I'm sorry that yor wife is such a whore, if I had known I would've taken her to the nearest brothel." He taunted a burly man.
He had just been getting busy with a young woman at the bar of a tavern when a man who could've worked as a lumber jack jerked away his wife and punched him.
"She's not a whore, you're just a fucking pirate." He hissed while grabbing a chair.
"No, not fucking anymore." He said casually.
The man brought the wooden chair down with a roar and England easily side stepped it, he then grabbed his knife out and stabbed the burly man in the arm. He hissed and tried to turn around just for England to twist the knife a bit.
"Now I hope you're not going to move anymore, doing so would be bad for your health."
The man shouted when another knife embedded itself into his armpit. England smirked and let go, allowing the man's wife to nurse him.
...
England moaned and sat up. After that romp he had with America he needed that nap, the kid really did tire him out. He slowly got off the couch and truged to his room, trying to pop his back. As soon as he hit the doorway he stopped and looked down at America curiously, he was hunched over something gasping ocassionally.
"America?"
The boy ignored him and continued doing whatever it was he was doing.
England sighed and grabbed the boy up. "America what are you-" He stopped when he saw the diary in America's hand.
The boy just pouted and held the book close to his chest. "Why didn't you tell me about your adventure to that one island in Spain's territory!"
England frowned and sat with the boy on his bed. "I know I've told you about stealing things America."
"Yeah, but but did you ever really take on six other pirates at once!"
England smirked. "Of course I did. Spain's men were a bunch of idiots who thought with their stomaches."
America oh'ed and listened to his big brother tell stories to him in rapt fascination. Maybe just maybe he was a pirate.
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I hope you all enjoyed this! I wanted to use the concept that JSCanel was telling me about, but with a bit of flair.
Well I hope you like it dear!