Title: Family Portrait

Pairing: France/England (implied)

"I liked it better when it was me and papa France! I didn't want to come here..." Canada just can't seem to forget his former carer, no matter what England does, and his new brother America only seems to be making it worse. Sometimes even the happiest of families can be broken.

"Ow! America stop kicking me!"

"Your legs are on my side of the bed!"

"No they're not! Ow! America stop it!" Canada protested, little legs flailing around under the covers of the bed he shared with his brother as the American's feet kicked at his own.

"Well stop putting your legs on me!" America shot back, kicking relentlessly at his brother under the covers.

"I'm not, I'm lying them next to you!" Canada insisted from the other end of the bed, attempting to kick America back but his little legs were nowhere near as powerful as his older brother's, despite being the same age and same build. A particularly hard kick up the Canadian's backside had him crying out in pain, tears started to pour from his eyes, "T-That hurt you bully! I'm telling!" the little boy sobbed, slowly sitting up in bed, "E-England!"

"No! Canada shhh!" America shot up in bed, suddenly looking panicked, "Don't!"

"What's going on in here?" England demanded, bursting into the boy's bedroom in his blue silk pyjamas, fuzzy eyebrows furrowed together in irritation as he flicked on the light switch.

"E-England..." the little Canadian sobbed into his hands, sniffling slightly, "America keeps k-kicking me..."

England sighed, hurrying to the boy's bed he perched himself on the edge, gently lifting Canada up onto his lap, giving him a hug, "Where does it hurt?" he asked softly, gently rubbing the boy's back.

Canada sniffed, little hands bunched into the front of England's shirt, "...my b-bottom."

America snorted slightly from the other end of the bed and England shot him a dirty look, "This is not funny young man, you are to stop kicking your brother do you hear me? Or you can bring your pillow into my room and you can sleep on the floor if you can't be trusted on your own."

America pouted slightly, twisting the covers in his hands, "...he kept putting his legs on my side of the bed."

England sighed irritably, gently laying Canada back down, "You each get one half of the bed, if you move over a bit your legs won't be touching." he gently pushed America over to one side so the boys were in as far away from each other as possible, before he grabbed the covers, lifting them up and draping it across the both of them, tucking them in, "There, now go to sleep both of you, I don't want to hear another peep out of either of you for the rest of the night." England said sternly, getting to his feet he left, flicking off the light switch before closing the door most of the way, leaving it open ajar so some light from the landing shone into their dark bedroom.

Canada rolled over onto his side to face the wall, cuddling into his pillow, still wiping at the tears clinging to his damp cheeks, "...I don't like you." he mumbled softly into the darkness.

America glared at him, rolling over onto his other side, facing the door, "I don't like you either, I liked it better when it was just me and big brother England, then you came and ruined everything! I didn't want a stupid little brother."

Canada bit his lip, desperate not to start crying again, "W-Well I liked it better when it was me and papa France! I didn't want to come here..." the boy said, voice muffled as he buried his head into his pillow, tears soaking into the soft fabric.

"Well you're stupid, France is a bad man! England told me so."

"He's not a bad man!" Canada said, kicking his little legs in America's direction but missing him completely.

"He is! England said he brought you here because France is a bad man!" America said mockingly, pulling the covers up further over himself, tugging them away from his brother's end of the bed.

Canada shivered slightly, gripping the edge of the covers he attempted to pull them back, but America held on strong, "America I don't have any covers!"

"So?"

"America I'm cold..."

"Don't care, these are my covers!"

"We have to share them!" Canada cried, tugging with all the might his little arms could muster up.

"They're mine!" America insisted, digging his little feet into the mattress as he held on tight.

"No they're not they're-" both boy's stopped when they heard footsteps on the landing, immediately going silent they dropped the covers and hurriedly curled up in bed, eyes screwed shut, pretending to sleep. Canada slowly opened one eye when he heard the footsteps disappear, but at the other end of the bed America had actually fallen fast asleep, so for now at least, their arguing was over. The Canadian sat up slightly, straining his ears he could hear the Brit conversing with someone downstairs who he'd let into the house, followed by two sets of footsteps that started making their way back upstairs. The blond dived back down onto the bed, screwing his eyes shut tightly whilst his ears strained to listen to the conversation going on on the landing, just outside his door.

"France you can't do this!" England hissed, grabbing the blond roughly by the collar, stopping him in his tracks.

France yanked the Brit's hand away, glaring at him, "You can't keep me away England! Zis isn't fair, I want to see my little Canada." he said firmly, spotting the open door at the top of the stairs, "Zis iz their bedroom oui?"

England glared at him, grabbing France's arm before he could move, "France get out of here right now! You have no right to see him, Canada is mine now!"

"You can't keep Canada away from me like zis! I 'ave every right to see him if I want!"

"No you don't! That was the whole point of me getting full custody you stupid frog!" England snapped, dropping the blonds' arm, "America and Canada are my responsibility, you have absolutely nothing to do with either of them anymore."

France looked at him, slowly shaking his head, "Why does it 'ave to be zis way England?" he asked softly, slipping his arms around the Brit's waist, "...can't we just go back to the way we were?"

England sighed, briefly resting his hands on top of the Frenchman's arms, "...France don't do this to me, not now."

"I still think about you England, all ze time..." France muttered softly, gently trailing his fingers up England's forearms.

England shook his head, taking a step back, "No France. I told you it was over and I meant it...America and Canada are my only priority now." he said firmly, his voice wavering slightly.

France looked at him sadly, gently gripping the Brit's hand in his own, "...can't we just go back to playing 'appy families?" he whispered, pulling England closer, gently tipping his chin up, bringing their faces closer together.

England bit his lip, hesitating slightly as his eyes lingered on the Frenchman's lips before he forcibly pushed him away, shaking his head, "No France, we're through, I told you that when I left and took Canada with me."

France sighed softly, letting his hand fall back to his side, "...I want to see him."

"Canada has nothing to do with you anymore; I took him full custody of him for his own good."

France glared at him, "You only took him because you wanted me to be miserable!"

England shrugged slightly, "Perhaps, but whose fault was that hm?" he asked, raising a bushy eyebrow, "...that bartender, that hotel maid, those waitresses and all the other countless people you fucked while we were together." England growled, glaring at him, "...you brought this on yourself France, I mean I...I was..." the Brit bit his lip, swallowing slightly, looking away as tears filled his eyes, "...I was happy with you..." he whispered, hugging himself close, "...you're the one who screwed everything up, I had no choice but to leave...and I had to take the boys, what kind of influence are you for them?"

France sighed, running his fingers into the back of his long hair, "...you don't 'ave to tell me zis all again...just let me see Canada England, please." he begged, gazing at the bedroom door.

England stared at him, "It's the middle of the night France!"

"I don't care; I need to see my baby brother."

England sighed, "...fine...you can say goodnight to him, but you have two minutes do you here me? Then you get out of my house." the Brit muttered, leaning up against the wall outside the boy's bedroom, nudging open the door with his foot.

Canada shot up in bed, gripping the sheets around him, heart hammering in anticipation as the door of his bedroom creaked open, and the dark figure of the Frenchman stepped into the room, "Papa France!" the Canadian cried out, eyes lighting up.

France's face stretched into a smile, he dived onto the edge of the bed, holding out his arms, "Canada..."

Canada beamed, crawling into France's lap, "You came back for me!" the boy cried, clutching at the front of France's shirt he buried his head into his chest, never wanting to let go.

France beamed, pulling the little Canadian close, cuddling him tightly, "...I've missed you mon cher, 'ave you been okay?"

Canada shook his head, tears starting to form in his eyes, "No, I don't like my new brother, papa..." he lifted his head up off France's chest, gazing at the Frenchman with sad eyes, "I want to go back home with you..."

France looked at him sadly, gently stroking his hair, "I'm afraid...zat iz not possible mon cher..." he muttered, sighing softly.

Canada bit his bottom lip as it began to tremble uncontrollably, "B-But why? Why! D-Don't you love me a-anymore papa? You don't want me!" the boy sobbed into France's chest, tears pouring down his cheeks.

France stared down at the boy in horror, feeling his own heart breaking, "Canada..." the blond lifted the boy up, gently dabbing at his tears with the corner of his sleeve, "I know it's hard for you to understand...but I can't take you back mon cher...zis iz your home now..." he whispered sadly, his own eyes starting to well up with tears, gently stroking his cheek, "...but Canada believe me when I say, I will always love you."

Canada nodded slowly, throwing his arms around France's neck, little hands clutching his blond locks, "I love you too papa..."

France smiled sadly, gently stroking Canada's back for a few minutes, just holding him close. Eventually he lay the boy down on the bed, having to prize the Canadian's arms off from around his neck as he refused to let go, "...time for bed mon cher."

Canada sniffled slightly, gazing up at France from where he lay, "Will you be here when I wake up?" he asked, wiping his eyes.

France sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of his head, "I'm afraid not mon cher, but I promise we will be together soon oui?"

Canada nodded slowly, biting his lip, "Oui..."

France smiled sadly, tucking him up in the soft covers, "...be a good boy for England okay?

"Oui papa."

"Goodnight Canada." France said softly, gently petting his hair.

"...goodnight papa France." Canada mumbled tiredly, rubbing at his eyes sweetly before he fell straight to sleep, curled up under the bed covers.

France watched him sleep for a few moments before he heard the Brit clearing his throat on the landing, the blond sighed, slowly getting to his feet he dragged himself out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes, "...you 'ave no idea what you're doing to me do you?"

England rolled his eyes, "I know exactly what I'm doing, now please leave...and don't ever show up like this in the middle of the night again."

"...fine." France muttered softly, he couldn't argue anymore, "...but we need to talk about zis custody agreement, I will not stand to be kept away from my little Canada."

England sighed, gaze dropping to his feet, "...fine, but not now. Just please get out of here France." the Brit muttered softly, not being able to watch as his former lover left, shutting the front door downstairs softly behind him. England sighed, threading a hand into the hair at the back of his neck, yawning with tiredness.

Before he retreated into his room for bed, he had a quick check on the boys to make sure they were okay. America had rolled over in his sleep, body dragging pretty much all of the covers with him so his little brother lay shivering in his sleep at the opposite end of the bed. England sighed, going into the draws underneath the bed he pulled out a soft cotton blanket, gently draping it over the sleeping Canadian. Canada snuffled softly in his sleep, his shivers ceasing as he curled up in the warmth of the blanket.

England smiled sadly, gently stroking his hair as he slept, "...you hate me don't you? For taking you from him..." he whispered ever so softly, sighing deeply, "...you're so young Canada, and I don't expect you to understand why I had to..." he leant down, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head, "...I'll explain to you when you're older, and I hope you'll understand. I care about you, Canada, and I only did what I thought was best..." England muttered softly, slowly sitting up, tucking the sleeping boy into the blanket, "...one day you'll understand Canada...and when you do, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

I...don't really know what this is, but I hope you liked it anyways

Reviews are love :)