I was originally going to make a Father's Day Special, but the more I thought about it, this could also be something for the 4th of July. It could be both. So... yeah. Take it like you will. It'll be a late Father's Day and Early 4th of July special.
By the way, no this isn't UsUk, there is a pairing, but it's referenced mostly. Homosexuality was taboo back then and was considered some form of madness. Because of this, men were very affectionate toward their own sex (including Englishmen). So yes, there was a time when two men kissing each other on the cheek wasn't considered gay. Review please!
September 1, 1752
England leaned against the wooden rail of his ship, viewing the waves of the Atlantic below him, and smelling the salt water. Many things were running through his mind. On one hand, it was the 50th Anniversary of Pennsylvania's Carter, though France was beginning to annoy him lately with trying to claim back Canada, and claim America. France had set his eyes on America, since the day England had found him. It annoyed him to no end that the frog just simply did not know when to give up.
Besides, it wasn't like America held any ties to the man. The only ties he had with France was his sister Louisiana. England just knew that France would try to use any form of tactic to gain America, even l'amour as he would call it. Sure, America had a cute crush on the young territory, but he would not stoop so low as to side with France or any of his lackeys. It would only be a matter of time before the Mighty British Empire claimed Louisiana.
Even, with Canada, it was too late for him to be siding against the British Empire. He may've been claimed by France first, but it was only for a few minutes before being trampled by the Mighty British Empire. Both Canada and America were the New England colonies and loyal to the crown. Nothing France did could change their loyalties. Nothing.
Sighing and brushing through his hair, he looked back at the tent-shaped item covered by a white cover, and strapped by ropes. This was a special day. Now, wasn't the time to worry about France, or an upcoming war which England could already could see coming. He smiled at the present that he would give to his favorite colony, despite all the drama that's been happening lately.
"Captain!" England heard one of his crew members call him. "We just arrived at Delaware Bay, about to approach the Delaware River. Shall we move the bell onto the boat?"
"Of course!" England replied, showing a smirk. "And be sure to be careful with it, when you lower it onto the boat. Being, that we're almost at the dock, I will change to a more proper fitting, yes?" England made his way to his quarters.
"Are you sure, Captain?"
"Of course! Today is a very special day, and I don't want to appear in these filthy garments. I am a gentleman, after all. I suggest the rest of you do the same, when you arrive at the party."
"Yes, Captain!"
England entered into his quarters, taking off his red trench coat, boots, sweaty white shirt and black trousers. He made sure to wash his face, arms and hands clean, before shaving, then dressing in his dress clothes. He took a deep breath, then appeared from his quarters just as he saw the covered bell on the small boat, waiting for him to deliver it across the Delaware River to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
"We're ready when you are, Captain," One of the men called out.
"Good. I would like two volunteers to help me row this boat," England said, looking among his crew.
"I will go, Captain!" A crew member with dark hair and gray-blue eyes volunteered.
"So will I!" Another crew member with red hair and green eyes volunteered.
"Well then, get on! Hop to it!" England commanded as the two volunteer crew members quickly made their way to the boat, one being across from the other. England hopped to the front of the boat before it began to pull down with the help of his crew.
England and the other men began rowing the boat across the Delaware River, having to fight against the waters pulling them away from their destination. For England and his men, this was no heavy task, due to their piracy. Though, England was beginning to pirate less, since Blackbeard. England would never forgive him for betraying America, and messing with the British Empire. Luckily, America also had pirate blood in him, and hunted Blackbeard down like dog, even teaming up with Spain. England could only laugh at that irony of Blackbeard being caught by a mere youth.
It had taken what seemed to be almost forever, but England finally reached his destination at Philadelphia. He stood up, and saw his young colony with the biggest grin on his face. England could only laugh, knowing that his young colony, despite his growth spurt, was still just as excited to see him as he's always been these past what? Century? Time sure does fly.
America quickly ran across the dock, then lifted England by the waist, squeezing him tightly. America cried, "BRITAIN, DUDE! I can't believe you're here!" Excitedly, he kissed each cheek.
"That's nice... lad. Now, could you please... put me down, you're... choking me," England wheezed as America quickly let go, and backed off, blush dusting his cheeks.
"Sorry. I'm still used to you being the one squeezing me too tight," America replied, then noticed the object on the boat. "What's that!?"
"It's your present for Pennsylvania's 50th Anniversary," England smirked braggadociosly, arms folded proudly.
"COOL! WHAT IS IT!? WHAT IS IT!?" America cried out with two huge glowing eyes.
"Calm down, lad. I think, by the shape of it, and the order your colony assembly placed, I'm surprised you don't know what it is already," England replied, furrowing his eyebrows.
"A-Actually, the Governor said it was a surprise," America admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, then looking at the object covered with a white cloth. "So, it is a bell?"
"Not just any bell, the Liberty Bell," England replied, showing his pumped-up grin.
"Awesome!" America replied excitedly, then his face turned into a questionable one. "Does that mean I have to change the symbol of my flag?" He asked, pointing to the tree drawn on his and Canada's flag. England burst into laughter as America rose his eyebrows before being hugged by his older brother.
"I love you, America," England said, placing a kiss on America's cheek, while America's face still remained full of questions.
Later, that night, was the celebration party. America was dressed in a nice dark blue suit with nice gold designs, a red waistcoat underneath over a white buttoned shirt, matching dark blue trousers, black dress shoes, and black dress gloves. Canada happened to be next to him, who was wearing a red suit, over a white waistcoat, over a white buttoned shirt. He had red trousers, and black dress shoes.
Canada was happy about the Liberty Bell, given to his brother for the 50th Anniversary of Pennsylvania. Almost everyone far and wide came to the party for this grand celebration, all dancing with glee. The twins watched as France made his way to them with a small class of red wine in his hand.
"Ah, Amea'reeca, Canada, how wondea'rrful to see you. I want to cong'ratulate zea both of you," France said.
"That would be America. I only have the top half of New England, above New Hampshire," Canada corrected.
"Euh si! My bad!"
"Well, thanks anyways, dude!" America replied happily.
"And France, could you do us the privilege of not making England angry? You're close to a war with him, and I would like this party to not turn into a fight," Canada asked quietly and politely.
"E sall do just zat, mon ami," France replied, sipping his wine.
"Bloody hell, what are you doing here?" England asked almost angrily.
"Euh, weall, last I ceacked, I bealieave eavea'ryone was eenvited, no?" France replied as England sighed in frustration.
"He promised to be nice," Canada assured humbly.
"Fine. Though, you start anything funny, and you're out," England warned as France laughed quietly in response, much to England's annoyance.
"Anyways, I think there's plenty of ladies over there, I think ones from your place," America said, looking over at some rich ladies, who seemed to have some french.
"Euh... hon hon hon, merci, Amea'reeca," France replied, with hearts in his eyeballs before kissing America on each cheek, then quickly made his way to the women.
"I cannot thank you enough for getting rid of that frog," England smirked.
"Anytime, bro," America replied, winking. "You know, it is a party, why don't you find yourself a lady. You know the Englishwomen here love you."
England blushed embarrassingly, replying, "Don't be ridiculous. Though, I suppose I could find a lovely maiden, who'd want to dance with the mighty British Empire."
America laughed, as Canada said, "I think I'll find a girl to dance with."
"Alright, you do that, Quebec," England replied.
"It's Ca- eh never mind," Canada sighed, making his way to a young lady to ask her to dance.
"America, why don't you find a lady? I'm sure there's some lovely ladies out there waiting for a young handsome man like you to dance with," England encouraged.
"Uh... yes... about that, I... I can't dance... at least not like that," America admitted, looking out toward the men and women dancing in a traditional English dance. "I'm used to Square Dancing and stuff. I hardly get involved with rich parties like this, even though we have alot of them here. That's usually Canada's thing. The last time I've been to one was... well, Davie."
"Well, we certainly can't have that. I will teach you how to dance the English Country Dance," England said, showing a prideful smirk upon his face.
"Is that what it's called?" America asked as England backed up a few steps from him.
"The first thing you must learn is to always make eye contact, and the circular nature of the dance," England instructed.
"Um England, are you sure this isn't going to look too awkward or..." America asked nervously as England stepped forward, then took his hand lightly, and both began walking in a circle across from each other. "Uh... okay."
"Now, let's do this with both hands," England instructed, taking both of America's hands lightly, then both walked in a circle. "Keep your eyes on me, America. Never leave them." Then, both walked toward each other, hands still held, until they were an inch apart before walking away from each other, hands slowly releasing. "Smashing America, you're doing excellent."
"That was also really weird."
"Well, it's alot more fun when you do it with another girl. Now, just follow their lead, and remember my instructions," England advised, gently pushing America to the dance floor as he began looking around, finally finding an Englishwoman to dance with. England also began doing the same.
The party was fun for both America and England. America eventually found Louisiana at the party as well, both having a few dances together. France flirted with a few women, and had talked with America and Canada several times, but had been tolerable throughout the party, much to England's surprise. The last thing England wanted was France ruining a grand party for his favorite colony and only little brother that actually loved him, aside from Canada.
Toward the end of the party, England had made it his mission to spend some time with America and talk. England found America with Louisiana, who was wearing a very radiant light blue party dress with light green designs. She had long curly light brown hair pinned up, and deep green eyes. England made his way to join the two, and greet Louisiana, since England had no quarrel or vendetta against the young girl like with France. With France or not, she was still a lady, and it was gentleman-like to show proper respect toward a lady.
"Hey Britain dude!" America greeted as Louisiana turned around, smiled and brought her hand out as England barely kissed it.
"Hello England. Like, how are you?" Louisiana greeted.
"I see you already are picking up America's bad language," England teased as Louisiana laughed aloud.
"Louisiana, mademoiselle!" France called from afar, after blow kissing three Englishwomen, who were giggling and blushing.
"Oh my god, I like have to go. It's totally been a slice. I will see you like later," Louisiana called out, leaving as she blew a kiss to America, who just waved.
"Man, it sucks that she has to be stuck with France," America said as England sighed, smiling, while shaking his head. "It sucks even more that we're going to be enemies very soon."
"We're?" England questioned.
"Uh... sorry, I forgot to ask. If a war ever comes, I'd like to fight alongside you, England. Let's face it, you're going to need all the help you can get," America offered, showing a smirk.
"Oh? Excuse me, are you saying that the Mighty British Empire can't handle a frog and a couple of savages?" England teased before being hit with a beer mug from the back of his head. "BLOODY-"
"It's that attitude why I joined France! Damn white trash!" An older Native, Native America, shouted, who was on his way leaving the party, while smoking his pipe.
"Bloody Indian," England muttered, rubbing the back of his head.
"Well, not that I don't think you can handle France and Native America, but he doesn't know how to fight a gentleman's war. All he knows how to do is hunt, gather, smoke, gamble, and knock your head with clay mugs," America explained, slightly teasing.
"You are hilarious, America. That hurt, by the way," England said sarcastically, still rubbing the back of his head. Then, he sighed. "Though, you do have a point. A savage will act like anything but a gentleman, especially at war. Though, what do you suppose we do, if I let you join?"
"Teach you about Gorilla Warfare."
"Gorilla Warfare? The bloody hell, you must be mad."
"No, you're mad by leading soldiers with bright red coats into a forest of green like a big fat target. I'm being smart."
"A smart alack."
"What's that?"
"Never mind. I am a gentleman, and will not consist in savagery!"
"And pirates are gentlemen? Besides, if you don't want to do all that Gorilla Warfare stuff, then leave it to me. I know the Appalachians and Louisiana like the back of my hand," America bragged as England sighed, then facepalmed slowly. He squinted his eyebrows, then pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Fine. I will need to teach you the ropes on war, and it would help to have a companion by my side. This way, we'll be evenly matched two on two," England decided as America picked him up in a bear hug.
"Thank you! Thank you!"
"T-Too tight," England gasped as America let him go.
"Sorry, but don't worry, Britain. You don't have to worry about a thing. I'll let you have France, and Native America is all mine," America promised, placing an arm around England as he placed an arm around America's back, then laid his head on America's shoulder. Surely, nothing could ever come between them.
September 3, 1783
England was sitting calmly at the right side of the table, covered in red tablecloth. Scrolls were found taking up the entire table, all rolled-out, and showing the title of the article; the Treaty of Paris. What had happened during these passed 32 years? Oh, nothing much, except a war against France and Native America, followed by a war against America to top it all off. The man, sitting across from England, whom he once saw as his close and only brother that loved him, rebelled against him, fought him, and now was leaving him. It took every ounce of strength England had, or had left, to keep him from strangling America against the table, making him pay for daring to turn against the crown, after pledging his allegiance for this passed century.
England felt a warm hand on his shoulder, knowing it was from his boss good ol' King George. He took a deep breath, then looked at the treaty before him. King George took a glance at the contract, and nodded in agreement. America was to now be his own country, the United States of America, keeping land from what he previously owned to the land England had claimed from France, or at least the bottom part of it, and now it was taken away from him. It was also the land that Native America had owned from France.
England looked over at America, who kept his composure, while sitting between Benjamin Franklin and George Washington. King George dabbed the pen in the ink jar, then began to sign his name on the last part of the treaty. While doing this, England began running through the list of reasons why he was angry at America: for rebelling against him, for rebelling against the crown, for getting himself into this war, for making a fool out of England, for making England love him since the day he laid eyes on him, for making England think him and America would always be together, for making a fool out of the Mighty British Empire as he fell to his knees and cried his tears out at the Battle of Yorktown. There could be no forgiveness for this. By the next day, England swore he'd be drunk in Paris, not giving a care in the world.
"England," America quietly spoke, which was unusual for him. It was then that England started seeing the damage war had done to America. Why should England care anyways? America put that upon himself.
England signed the treaty, declaring that America was now an independent country. Right now, he just wanted to go to the nearest pub, and drink his tears away. There wasn't much more that England could take, after everything that's happened. Time seemed to be slowing down minute by minute before the treaty was signed, and everyone began to take their leave.
England looked down at the ground, watching each foot walk across the sidewalk on his way to the Inn, where him and George, separately, would be rooming for the night. The entire walk was quiet for several minutes before England heard someone.
"It pains me to see you like this, England. I'm sorry for causing all of this," King George said quietly as England blinked to keep the tears from leaking out.
"It's not your fault. You were all the way in London when this whole mess started getting out of hand. If there is anyone to blame, it should be America. That freedom-loving bastard was acting like a child, just because he was damn poor, and couldn't see his precious girlfriend like he wanted."
"It was also the trade, and enforcing my laws. America isn't used to the crown making rules for him. My ancestors continually looked down on the lad, since he was a child. They'd kick you out of your country, when they wanted to, and never saw the potential he truly had; never respected him as an Englishman. They let him do what he wanted, and, in the end, he left when rules were finally enforced for his own good. I should have been more careful with him, and I thought I was... I can't tell you how sorry I am."
"Your majesty, don't take this as offense, but you did nothing wrong. You loved America, and the only one in Britain who does anymore. No one is perfect when ruling a kingdom. You did what any good king would have done in your position. I had been the one, who told you to let me handle it, after you received the Declaration of Independence. If there is anyone that was 'too hard' on America, it's me," England replied, then sniffed. "Now, if you excuse me, I must get some rest."
"You do that. I know these years have been hard for the both of us."
"Indeed," England replied, entering into his room as soon as he made it inside of the Inn.
England dropped himself onto the bed he was to sleep on, tears finally pouring out as he grabbed a hold of his eyes, where hundreds of tears began flowing like a river. This just wasn't fair! England wanted nothing more, than for all of this intense pain to go away. How could America do this to him!? After all they've been through, how could he just leave England like this? It just wasn't fair!
England couldn't keep up with how long he'd been crying and pouring tears. These years were just a waste, too much for him to carry. He began panting as he looked at the bottle of scotch on the side table, which he bought before going to the meeting to sign the, now despised, treaty. That treaty took away the only little brother that loved him, and not want him dead. Even during the war, America never shot his musket at England, nor did he point his hunting rifle at England's heart.
Reaching for the scotch, England heard his door open. He shot up to face his intruder to find out it was non other than America. England glared deeply at America before shooting out, and attacking him with full force, or was going to before finding himself pinned to the wall, both hands over his head.
"Get out, America! I never want to see your bloody face EVER again!" England cried out, squirming to free himself from America's strong arms and body.
"Stop lying to yourself England, and listen for once in your life!" America said.
"Why the hell should I listen to you, bloody Yank!?"
"Because there's something I want to tell you before you leave, and never have to put up with me again!"
England paused, then took a deep breath, before continuing, "you have five minutes."
"Look, I'm sorry for hurting you like this. This war wasn't supposed to happen. My people were being stripped broke by those god damn taxes, and we were fighting all the time. I thought, by being my own country, it would help ease those tensions, but it just grew worse. I don't want to leave this city with the last thing you remember of me was death and war."
"Well, welcome to the bloody real world, America! War and death coexist and, you know what, so do the diseases and taxes you'll be paying. Congratulations America, you got your life, liberty and pursue of happiness! Now, live with the consequences like a man!"
"And, I will!" America shouted, so loudly that it almost made Britain flinch. "But first, I want you to dance with me."
"You're joking," England smirked, almost laughing. "You really are mad. We just got done fighting a war, and now you want to dance with me?"
"Yes," America said, his voice now hoarse as tears began forming in his eyes. "Because 32 years ago, the day you came and brought me the Liberty Bell, was the day you taught me how to dance the English Country Dance. It was the best day of my life, of our lives! I want to leave here, remembering that day, so I... we know that, no matter how many wars we fight, no matter how many disagreements we have, we'll always love each other the same as 32 years ago when non of that mattered, and I'm not just another jackass brother that wants you dead. Please... England... United Kingdom of Great Britain." England seemed to react, but his cold face still was the same. "I named my full country name after you... I was going to put your flag on mine, but... Miss Ross worked so hard on it and... yeah."
"Your five minutes are up. Unhand me," England said firmly as America released him, and he began rubbing his wrists.
"I... I understand. I'm sorry for bothering you," America said, his voice broken, and his eyes watered. England couldn't do it. He couldn't stand America crying, if he was the one who caused it. It was just a silly dance. It couldn't hurt. Just one dance, and it's done.
"Where do you think you're going? I didn't say we could not have that dance," England said as America quickly wiped his tears, that were about to leak out, then nodded excitedly. They both stood across each other. "I hope you remember the routine.
"Of course I do!" America said as him and England began walking toward each other, then gently took the other's hand, slowly walking in a circle, while making eye contact. Then, they parted before walking back toward each other, this time, taking two of the other's hand, walking in a circle. Then, they walked close to each other, so they were only an inch apart.
Though, compared to when England taught America how to dance, America wrapped his arms around England's waist, weeping on his shoulder, as England wrapped his arms around America's shoulders. Tears began pouring out from England's eyes, the pain glowing like a shining star. No matter how hard England tried, no matter how many ways America could possibly hurt him, he could never find himself hating America. In fact, he found himself sympathizing with him for the first time. England knew what it was like to be trapped, and wanting to be free. America took the chance he had for that taste of freedom he was born to be. He was freedom, just like Native America said, before him and England became bitter enemies.
Perhaps, England could forgive America. After all, America forgave England.
"America," England choked out, after about 10 minutes of weeping.
"Hm?" America replied.
"You-Your government... you need to fix it. It's unstable, a self destruct time bomb," England warned in a whisper, America's eyes full of thinking. "A country cannot run itself on its own. I've tried. I-It doesn't work like that. It doesn't have to be a king, but... someone from your country that can keep you in check, if you ever run into a mess. At the very least, prepare yourself. Your young, intelligent and strong, but without guidance, your country will fall. France won't help you, neither will Spain, and neither will I. Look to your people, trust them. I know you haven't been on trustworthy terms with my bosses, and for good reason, but your people will never let you down; they will never abandon you, and will always be there to help you, when you need it the most."
America paused for almost a minute, then whispered, "I'll do my best."
May 30, 1814
England had left his meeting with France over the Treaty of Paris that would end the Napoleonic Wars. He felt pride within himself for receiving his victory, after his loss with America. Canada followed him, still as part of the British Empire as he had been for all these years. Canada was excited to have won his very first war, proving that he was strong enough to take on France and his brother, America. Though, England had not told Canada about his embarrassing defeat at the Battle of New Orleans, mainly the fact he was defeated by a woman. Louisiana was almost worse than Joan of Arc when it came to her fighting skills, and she didn't have to speak with God either.
While England may have not shared the same close relationship with Canada as he had with America, Canada was a bright young colony, and very obedient. During and after the Revolutionary War, Canada had been there to support England, and give him courage. It made England feel happy, and that his loss had not smashed him to pieces. Instead, it made him stronger.
"That was a victorious battle, eh?" Canada asked with such gleam in his eyes.
"Indeed, it is. That will show that frog to not mess with the British Empire!" England smirked cunningly.
"Though, what would that say for America?" Canada asked calmly.
"I think you already know the answer to that."
The two laughed as Canada said, "that was awesome, the look on his face when we burned all of Washington."
Suddenly, the door slammed shut, and the two looked back for a second to see America walking quickly toward the Inn room he rented. President Madison followed the young country as Canada's face showed a frown.
"He looks mad," Canada spoke quietly.
"Well, I cannot blame the lad. I'd be angry too, if the heart of my country was burned to ashes. Serves him right for leaving his house wide open. He should know better than to leave his country unguarded," England stated. Then, a cocky smirk appeared upon his lips. "Hopefully, the lad has learned his lesson."
"Um... England... do you think he hates us?"
"Don't be ridiculous, lad. He hasn't lost the war, technically. All he did was serve as one of France's lackey. Why do you ask?"
"Because you weren't being fair to him," Canada said as England looked at him with such surprise. This was the first time Canada ever spoke against him on anything. "I-I mean... you did block the trading routes with France. Did you think he'd fight with you, if you followed what France was doing? If I were America, I'd have a difficult time finding a country to side with too. He probably had his boss decide for him and, knowing his people, they favor France, as of now."
"Are you clarifying that I was pushing America too hard?" England asked with that demanding tone he always had. Canada almost shook in fear.
"W-Well, I don't know... I've never been my own country before, but... yes... you and France are a major part of America. You raised him, like me, and now France is America's in-law. You can't expect America to root for you automatically, when France is just as much of his brother as you are."
England sighed, hating it when any of his colonies made a good point that was against him. Sometimes, he forgot that France is part of America's family now. On top of that, Louisiana was obviously on France's side, and is a woman. Women were expertly good at wooing a man to her side. England still remembered being married to dear Queen Elizabeth. It was her that convinced him to be a pirate.
"I'm sorry," Canada said quietly.
"No, don't be, America," England replied quietly.
"It's Canada."
"Right. You've never given me trouble, and I can't say that you're wrong," England said, holding Canada close, placing his head on Canada's head, which leaning on his chest. "You do know this is going to be hard on you. You've gained land from France, which is filled to the brim with frogs."
"I know."
"Ame- I mean Canada... the last time I fought against France, with my little brother, I lost him, because I sheltered him from everything. My boss doesn't want me to lose you like I lost America. Whatever happens, you decide. You're strong, and have proven it, but if you need help, don't be afraid to ask."
"You won't lose me, and I will do my best. Though, you know I'm not going to be yours long... my people are already thinking of becoming independent. I-I don't..."
"I won't start a war, if you want to become independent. I have absolute faith in you," England said, parting from Canada, but still having a firm hold of his shoulders. Canada showed a bright smile. "You go run along, lad. I will meet you, and we can have dinner. How does that sound?"
"That sounds nice, eh?" Canada replied, then a thought popped into his head, which slightly worried him. "Are you cooking?"
"No, we'll have cooks serving us. Why? Do you want me to-"
"Th-That's fine, I was just asking," Canada replied, acting nervous as England looked at him suspiciously.
"Alright then. I will see you soon," England said as Canada left, and England sighed, looking toward the direction he last saw America going. A memory popped into his head about the last time they were in Paris. It was time England repaid America for what happened 31 years ago.
England secretly walked quietly to America's Inn room, where America was staying. England didn't hesitate to knock on the Inn room door. It didn't take long for the door to open, and meet a pair of angry eyes.
"America-" England started before...
"Get out!" America replied, slamming the door shut before England's foot caught the door, then forced it open wide before closing it behind him into America's room.
"You've certainly developed a rude attitude. I hope to god it isn't from France," England rebuked, folding his arms.
"What the hell do you want?"
"I came here to ask, if you would like to dance?"
"We just got finished fighting a damn war!"
"That didn't stop you last time, git," England replied, leaning against the door, while showing a smirk upon his face.
"Th-That was-"
"Different? America, I understand why you are upset and I am sorry for burning your capitol," England said.
"It's not that I'm angry about, it's..." America said, then dropped himself, sitting on the bed, while covering his face. "Ugh! I'm sick of this! I'm sick of being involved in something I shouldn't be a part of, I'm sick of you and France yanking me like I'm some goddamn mascot of yours, I'm sick of you getting my brother involved, I'm sick of having to fight with you all the damn time over something so stupid! I'm just sick of this! I shouldn't have been involved in this! My wife shouldn't have been involved in this! I'm already dealing with a stubborn god damn Native trying to take my land!"
"You're right, and I do apologize. I was being careless, selfish-"
"And a complete asshole!"
"Yes, that too."
"I thought you were-" America shouted, then stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Do you hate me?" England asked quietly with so much worry in his heart.
America looked up, then replied, "no... I don't trust you anymore, but... you're still family. And, for the record, I'm surprised you and France are fighting like this, because you two have so much in common, it's not even funny. Though, France is more understandable. He doesn't know me like you do."
England bit his tongue to keep himself from yelling at America that he was nothing like France. Right now, America needed to cool down. England took out his hand, and America sighed, getting up on his feet. The two stood across from each other, then began performing the English Country Dance. America eventually cooled down after the dance.
July 4, 1975
England had done it, for America's 200th Anniversary of his Independence, he was able to provide him with a second Liberty Bell that didn't break as easily. Though, his health was low like usual in every single one of America's birthdays, it was worth towing the gift. America had let England stay long enough for the fireworks display, after getting over his freak-out over the invisible unicorn. It was getting close to nighttime, and America and England were waiting for the fireworks to be set off.
"This is your idea of repaying me for giving you a new a better Liberty Bell? Seeing a fireworks display inside the bloody Statue of Liberty!?" England almost shouted, lifting his hands in the air, who was next to one of the windows of the Statue's head.
"We could go inside the torch, if you want. The view is just as great," America offered.
"I don't think you get what I'm trying to convey, America. You're showing me the fireworks display inside a statue, given to you by the frog, of all people!"
"This is the only place you haven't been to before, and now I can see why, but stop being a grouch! It's bad enough you're ruining a day like this with your mojo," America glared as England coughed blood from his mouth. He quickly got some tissue, and wiped the blood from his mouth.
"You're a git, America. A bloody-" England said, coughing more blood. "git."
"Look, if you don't want to be here that badly, we can just go watch the fireworks at-"
"No, no. I'll live with the frog's work of art. Besides, you did say it was a better view from up here, right?"
"That's right! I love seeing the display from up here!" America stated happily. Then, his face shot up. "Oh shit, here it comes!"
England quickly made his way to the window next to America, watching as fireworks began booming into the sky in New York. The sky was filled with colorful explosions on this day. England watched the display with awe, his arms laid outside of the window of Lady Liberty's head.
"Bloody brilliant!" England cried out before coughing blood. "Hell."
"You gotta stop doing that," America said.
"Shut up, America," England snapped, wiping the blood with a tissue. "You know this happens every day of your Independence Day."
"You're never like this on Canada's birthday, or Seychelles'."
"We never had a war, idiot! War does that to you America! You, of all people, should know that!"
England didn't see the guilty look on America as he looked out the window to see the rest of the fireworks. America sighed, looking down at the foot of Lady Liberty, doing alot of thinking.
"You know, I never meant to hurt you that day, right?" America asked quietly as England turned, his eyebrows raised.
"America, stop blaming yourself for something you couldn't control," England snapped quietly as America looked at him in surprise. "If there is anyone to blame for that god damn war, it's me. I was in debt and stripping every last cent of your land, keeping it for myself. I treated you like property instead of thinking about how it would affect you. When you asked to be your own country, to solve that crisis, I declared war on you instead of negotiating. If I had to turn back time, I would have talked to you, and helped you come up with a government system that would suit you.
"America, the hardest thing for any country to do is to admit when he's wrong. It took me long enough years, but I admit, what I did, was wrong. You heard Elizabeth's speech. I celebrate this day, not to rejoice our separation, but in gratitude for having taught me a valuable lesson.
I lost you as my colony, because I lacked the statesmanship of knowing the right time of yielding, which I admit is impossible to have. If I had yielded back then, I would not be sick right now, and we would not have these scars we keep. My pride, arrogance and selfishness were my downfall, and now I must learn from my mistake, America. I maybe sick, but I have no scars from Canada, Seychelles, India, South Africa or any other colonies that gained independence from the British Crown, because I've learned that there is a time when the best thing to do is yield."
America stared at England with such surprise. Then, a bright grin filled his face, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Thanks, dude," America said happily as him and England watched more of the fireworks display. New York City was, indeed, very colorful this Independence Day.
England and America climbed down the stairs of Lady Liberty as soon as the fireworks began lessening. At this point, it was already midnight, so England's sickness was gone. The two exited from the foot of the statue, then began standing across from each other on the green grass. They walked toward each other, lightly grabbing the other's hand, keeping eye contact. Then, they walked in a circle as their hands slowly released.
"You still remember that dance?" England asked, grinning, as him and America walked toward each other again, lightly grabbing both hands, then walking in a circle, while keeping eye contact.
"Yeah!" America replied, then him and England walked close together, then slowly parted as their hands slowly released. They repeated this routine on the green grass at the foot of Lady Liberty.
"How lovely!" A young brown-haired woman stated, seeing the dance, who was non other than Queen Elizabeth II.
"Well, I've never seen a dance like that before! What kind of dance is that?" President Ford asked as England and America paused, then turned.
"This, my good man, is the English Country Dance. I believe it was first known during the Renaissance era in my home country," England replied. "America and I haven't danced like this in almost two centuries, since the Treaty of 1814."
"Wasn't that the treaty that ended the Napoleonic Wars and the War of 1812?"
"That's the one!" America replied.
"You never told me you like totally danced with England, after that war!" And older Louisiana teased, who wore a short blue skirt, a white buttoned blouse, a matching blue hat, and black high heels. Compared to 200 years ago, Louisiana's hair was shoulder length.
"And you never tell me when you're going to start trouble at the voting booth," America teased as Louisiana shot him a glare. England almost facepalmed. Ever since Louisiana convinced Susan B. Anthony to vote illegally with nearly fifty other women, then got arrested with them, America had never let that down.
"Since you both are dancing, how about we join in, eh?" Canada asked quietly.
"Sure, it'll be like a real ball dance," America replied excitedly.
"Well, I would like to know how to dance like that," President Ford replied as everyone lined themselves up three by three, then all began the English Country Dance on America's Bicentennial Independence Day.
A/N: I think it should be obvious which parts are historically accurate and which ones aren't. Like the Liberty Bell is definitely accurate, though I don't know if there was a party held for that celebration of Pennsylvania's 50th Anniversary. America was involved with piracy and was, in fact, the home of the pirates. They were especially involved with Blackbeard and hunted him down as Public Enemy number 1. America, as a colony, did have a different flag that was the flag of New England, also Canada's previous flag as New England (surprisingly, it doesn't have the Union Jack 0_0). After the Declaration of Independence was signed, there was debate on which flag would be their country flag, one of them being the same as our American flag with a Union Jack. Also, King George III wasn't in Paris when the treaty was signed. He had representatives. If you have any questions about the historical accuracy of this fic, you can ask me and I will gladly answer.
For King George III, I wanted to give him a more human complex. I really don't believe he was a cold tyrant as many movies portray him as. He was what? In his early 20's ruling a kingdom. Not to mention he is known as one of England's best rulers, and we Americans had some jackass Presidents too (like Andrew Jackass- I mean Jackson, who was the cause of the Trail of Tears). When you look into King George III, he wasn't that bad of a king. I think it's time this American gave old King George a break.
Native America and Louisiana are my OC's. I have mentioned Louisiana before in my previous one shot. I decided to change her accent to make it more valley girlish, leaning toward Southern California. Just so everyone is clear, yes, England and America were jackasses to Native America during the due times. It's mainly to reference the English's and American's treatment toward the Native Americans. It isn't that America hates Native America or anything, but they kinda didn't get along for a while, due to Native America believing that land should not be claimed and America believing that him and Native America should share the land with it mainly being America's. This never gets resolved and only gets worse from there until the 20th century at some point when Native America starts getting old and withered, due to low population of his people, and America starts being the hero.
Lastly, I think the ending is the reason why I decided to also make this a 4th of July special (it's kinda leaning more toward that). I'm getting sick and tired of reading 4th of July fan fictions about England getting wasted. It's not part of his character and isn't even historically accurate. I understand that many of these fan fictions were written before the 200th Bicentennial Liberty Bell episode, but that's still kinda putting England OOC. He's a gentleman and gentlemen learn from their losses. I see England, yes being affected by the Revolutionary War, but also learning from it. The same with America and the War of 1812, America learned something from it.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this. Feel free to let me know what you thought of it.