~The Lullaby~
March, 1765
Thunder rumbled above as rain poured down on the roof of the house. The pit-pat of the constant fall of droplets on wood was mesmerizing, slowly lulling me into unconsciousness. A flash of bright light would occasionally appear even through my closed eyelids, announcing the arrival of the deafening crash that followed. I was nearly asleep when a soft, childish voice snapped me fully awake. "Engwand? Awe you awake?"
I propped myself up on my elbows, looking at the door. Who stood there but two angelic blonde boys, both looking tired, and on one's part, scarred. What could I do but smile? America had a little pout on his lips, eyes leaky and red. His younger twin gripped his arm with a chubby fist, the other keeping a too-tight hold on his pet polar bear, Kumajirou. Both children's hair was disheveled, Canada looking like the child version of a battle-worn France, while America looked like me on any given day. Minus my eyes, of course. His eyes were a gorgeous blue that couldn't be described with words… The older of the two held the door open with one hand, thumb pale and prune-like from over-exposure to moisture. Namely, his mouth.
"I'm up. Come here, you two." I patted the empty spot next to me on my bed. With the raucous rumble of thunder above, the young Nations fled to my side as fast as the crackling lightning that came before it. America whimpered into my chest, quivering. Unlike his brother, Canada was handling it fine. I knew that his true fear was separation and abandonment… Poor kid. (1)
Back on topic. America shook, freezing every time a loud roar erupted in the skies above. "Uwaa… Engwand, I'm scaowed…!" I don't blame the kid. This was a pretty bad storm… I'd seen worse on the seas, so I was relatively used to it, but I'd forgotten how scary it was my first few times. And then, I was about the age equivalency of 14.
"Hush, hush," I said, rubbing his back. I breathed in the scent of his hair, the pine-like fragrance a comforting one. The boy looked up, lip trembling, his eyes filled with fear and moisture. He was still crying. I softly kissed his forehead, then put my own forehead against it. "It's okay, my little America… Everything's fine… Shh…" America sniffled, his crying beginning to cease.
"Engwand…" he threw his arms around my neck, clinging to me as if his life depended on it.
"You're alright…!" I laughed, prying him away so I might breathe. Thunder went off again, causing my young colony to yelp. "I'll allow no harm to come to you, my precious little America. That I swear." Canada nuzzled into my side. I'd almost forgotten he was there… "The same with my adorable baby Canada, too." My other colony smiled up at me, hugging my waist.
"Autant que j'aime mon Pére, je vous aime trop, grand frère Angleterre!" (As much as I love my father, I love you too, big brother England!) I smiled back.
"The same goes for me. Not the loving France part, but I love you too, Canada." I ruffled that soft, silky hair, which looked good even mussed. I was careful not to touch that curl, though. Yes, very careful.
America looked up at me with big eyes. "Does Engwand wuv me too?"
"Yes, my precious America. I love you. Both of you." I poked his nose, then Canada's. "To the moon and back."
"Weow, I wuv you to the SUN and back!"
"I love you to the stars and back, Big Brother England."
"I love you, the both of you, more than you could ever know." I held them tight to my bodice. At that moment, I wished we could all stay like this forever.
"Hey, Engwand?"
"Yes, my America?"
"Can you sing to us again? I wike it when Engwand sings. Like Canada would say, trés beau, or weaowy beautifow!"
"Don't you start talking in French too…" I giggled—yes, I giggled—and pushed a few stray strands of hair from his face. "Yes, I suppose I can sing to you…"
"One second," America said as he pulled away from me. He settled down near my chest after I lay on my side. Canada held one hand, and the other rested on the back of America's head. "Okay, now you can sing, mon ami!"
I shook my head at my charge, giving him a quizzical look. "Fwance towd me to caow you dat," he responded simply. I'd get mad about that pervert talking to my America and my Canada later. "Sing now, pwease?"
I smiled softly. "What shall I sing for you?"
"Ou-uh wuhwuhby!" (Our lullaby. Ain't it cute?)
I nodded. I loved the simple melody of that song. "Only if you'll sing with me."
"Okay!" both answered. The thunderstorm outside was now completely forgotten.
I hummed the beginning of the song. "If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky. You can hide underneath me and come out at night. When I turn jet-black, and you show of your light... I live to let you shine…"
"I live to let you shine," America and Canada sang in unison, perfectly on key.
"But you can sky rocket away," I touched Canada's nose, "from me," I did the same to the other Nation-let. "And never come back if you," I threw out my hand to the window, then held them close. "find another galaxy."
"Far from here, with more room to fly," the boys answered sleepily.
"Just leave me your stardust to remember you by…" Canada had fallen asleep at this point. His grip on my hand slackened, and he rolled over to snuggle closer to Kumajirou on the far side of my over-sized bed. That was typical among us at bedtime. America, however, moved in closer to me. My entire world was this young child. Don't get me wrong, I love Canada, but he's technically France's. Those two remain tight, though they don't see each other often. But America… he's all mine. My baby brother, who I adore and love so much. The other Nations say I spoil him, but if it's America, he deserves every bit of it. I'm always gone with one thing or another in Parliament, leaving him all alone. My child… My brother. My little America. My life, my world. The one most precious and dear to me. I'm not sure what would happen if I lost him, somehow. I'll never let that happen, ever. I couldn't bear it if it did.
"If you'll be my boat, I'll be your sea. A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity." we sang together, voices soft and tender. This was one of our moments. A moment of us. Just us, with none else around. Not one person near to ruin the deep connection between the two of us, almost the synchronization of our souls. Yeah, that was deep. But it's true, and I mean every word of it.
"Ebbing,"
"And flowing," I finished the phrase, "and pushed by a breeze." We were once again together. Almost as if it were our relationship. Together for a period, then apart for a short time, only to come back together again as one united force.
"I live to make you free… I live to make you free… But you can set sail to the west if you want to, and past the horizon, 'till I can't even see you. Far from me, where the beaches are wide... Just leave me your wake to remember you by…" His eyes slid shut, breathing regulating into soft intakes every so often.
"If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky, you can hide underneath me and come out at night. When I turn jet-black, and you show off your light. I live to let you shine. I live to let you shine… But you can sky rocket away from me, and never come back if you find another galaxy. Far from here, with more room to fly. Just leave me your stardust to remember you by... Stardust to remember you by…" My little America was now asleep, cuddled into my chest. I curled my body around him, as my eyes closed. I had no idea how much meaning those words carried, and I was about to find out, even if it was several years later.
Before finally fading, I whispered, "Good night, my precious America. I love you, so don't you ever leave me…"
--
April 19, 1775
My precious little America and my adorable little Canada weren't so little anymore. In the year I was gone, the two of them had shot up like weeds and grown into men. I wanted to cry; my little boys were all big now. Canada has become increasingly attached to me, while America… he seems rather annoyed by me. And then it happened.
I was merely sitting there, polishing my trusty Brown Bess musket, when America and Canada burst into the door, sparks flying.
"NO! America, I won't let you do this to him!"
"I have to! This has gone too far! Now get out of my way, Canada, or I'll have to use force. And you know that I'd rather not have to use it unless necessary."
"Non! You can't! I-"
"Mon grand-chose Canada, this is for the best. L'Amérique a besoin pour ce faire." (America needs to do this) Francis said upon entering the room, putting a hand on my America's shoulder.
"Père ...? Mais, non! Qu'en est-il le grand frère? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec vous?! Deux d'entre vous, vous êtes si cruel! Je vous hais!" (Father…? But- no! What about big brother? What's wrong with you? Both of you, you're so cruel! I hate you!) Canada, my poor little Canada, was crying. France looked as if he'd been slapped, and my America looked absolutely clueless.
"What's going on?" I said, voice grave. "Whatever it is, I don't like it. France, get your bloody hands off of my charge."
"Ex-charge," America said icily, eyes narrowing. "These taxes, they've been dealt with for far too long! You've crossed the line, Big Brother." Those words were like venom on his lips, dripping with hatred and malice. "I'm declaring independence. I'm not going to put up with this any longer!"
Now it was my turn to feel stricken. My America… I… I was losing my America?
"And that's where you've crossed the line, young man! What makes you think I'll let you have this 'inde-bloody-pendence' of yours?"
"I'm going to get it, one way or another, England. Even if I must war against you, if I must injure myself beyond repair, I will have my freedom. I even have France here to back me up. Spain's on my side too."
I could feel my heart breaking by the second. First, he declares some stupid idea of seceding from me, and went as far as going to France for help? The one I raised him to hate? And not only that, but he said he's come close to dying, just to be free of me. I felt my blood start to boil. Where was the love, the trust we had, not ten years ago? Was I the only one who remembered all of those some 190 years we spent together? This, this just hurt. You might as well have shot me, tied me to a pole, and then set me a fire in front of all my people, burning me alive amongst my screams as my flesh was scorched and eventually disintegrated into fine ash, only to scatter on the wind, leaving the crows to pick at whatever charred flesh remained on my bones. Oh, I'm sorry. Was that too graphic? Well, too bad. Screw being a gentleman—right now I was pissed, hurt, and confused. I was not going to lose my America, even if it killed me!
"This I will never allow. You are my charge, my response ability. You're my colony, and what I say, goes."
"…Consider it war, then." America turned, grabbed a bag from the foyer, then slammed the door shut behind him and France.
"Père?" Canada asked, voice heavy with sobs. He turned to me, tears still falling from his eyes. "England…" he stood up strait and tall, expression hardening. "I'm ready. I'm ready to face my brother, and mon Père. I'll be by your side through it all, grand frère. America needs to learn his place."
"Thank-you, Canada. I will never forget this."
Canada wasn't the only one to help. Prussia and Germany joined with me, as did my brothers (for once).
--
After the American War for Independence
I sat there, in the cold rain and sticky mud, for an amount of time only God could keep track of. Well, at this point, I was lying there in fetal position, the tears refusing to cease their race down both of my cheeks, red with both cold and tears. My eyes stung and felt puffy due to all of the crying I'd done. And where was Canada? He kept an arm around my shoulder as I sobbed my heart out, crying quietly to himself as he helped me through this ordeal. I felt as if someone had ripped out my heart… My precious little America was gone… Leaving me, standing here alone, with a broken heart. Canada was France's, and he will forever truly be France's. America was mine, and I blew it. He was gone, and he was not coming back.
I've decided to withdraw my forces from this cursed land now called the "United States of America", giving up my land in the area. It now belongs to the idiot child America, along with bloody France and Spain. The only one still talking to me is Canada. The only one who's ever loyally stayed to my side.
"If you'll be my boat, I'll be your sea, a depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity. Ebbing, and flowing, and pushed by a breeze. I live to make you free… I live to make you free… But you can set sail to the west if you want to, and past the horizon, 'till I can't even see you… Far from me, where the beaches are wide. Just leave me your wake to remember you by…" We truly were the boat and sea… And that boat had set sail on a long, long voyage from my waters.
--
(1) I thought that would probably be Cana-chan's fears, because of the whole ripped away from France thing. Poor kid, he has no idea what his future has in store for him.
OOC Alfie is OOC. I am sorry, but that's how I imagined it while reading this book on April 19th, 1775. *bursts into tears, for the 12th time today*
Please excuse my terrible French. I am a Spanish/Japanese/Gibberish/Canadian-British-American English speaking American. I looked it up on three translating sources… So I tried my best. French is a very confusing language for me. Which is kinda bad, as I'm French-Canadian.
This was supposed to be released for the 19th, but I wasn't able to finish it in time. By the time I was half way done it was some ungodly hour of the night.
The song used in this fic was 'Boats and Birds' by Gregory and the Hawk. I didn't write it, as many people seem to believe. *cough MOM cough*
There will be a sequel, but not as part of this story, because it has nothing to do with the lullaby… so Hani out!