Secrets And Lies
America stopped outside the meeting room door. He took a deep breath, forcing his fists to uncurl and his teeth to unclench. Damn that British bastard. He'd already taken his liberty, his family, his money and most of his self-esteem, the least he could do was trade! But no! England was too good for him, too good for his trade or anything... more. Like he didn't try! How was he supposed to remember every fucking grammar rule in the entire fucking English language?! Why was it England's business what he ate?!
America sucked in a breath, reminding himself to be good and just keep smiling. Just keep smiling. Then he opened the door and stepped inside.
Instantly, his usual boisterous, energetic grin plastered itself across his face. "Hey everybody!" he announced. "I'm the HERO!"
Everyone sighed as usual, and as usual, he pretended not to notice. But he couldn't not see the way his brother, his once-upon-a-time love, rolled his eyes and muttered something. His grin tightened.
Controlling himself, America went into the usual routine, the one he had based off of a comedy show at some Vermont coffee shop. The one he had drilled into his brain until even he had a hard time believing he wasn't a loud, happy-go-lucky, hamburger-loving idiot. The one he had learned in order to protect himself.
But in the middle of Part 3, the random stupid ideas about saving the world, England interrupted him. "You idiot," the Brit taunted. It was clear he had had a bad day and was just spoiling for a fight. "You're the lowest, slimiest worm I ever met." America focused on his breathing.Remember what the therapist said. In, out, in, out. Just breathe. "You really know nothing, don't you?" England continued. "Nothing about running a country. You're so stupid, it's funny." America felt a roaring begin in his ears. His entire body trembled with the effort of holding back the thousand volts of pure rage coursing through him.
England added with a slight curl to his lip, "You know why it's funny? Because when you were younger, I actually wanted you as a colony."
America exploded. His vision went red, splashes of blood spattering his glasses and England's screams of pain and shock and terror audible in his ears, but faint compared to the tempest that filled his mind and his body, his incredible strength not just breaking bones, but shattering them into innumerable pieces like glass. He released all his fury, all his bitterness, everything he had bottled up for so long. Without it he felt weak and empty. Without it he cried and could not stop crying.