"Got it."
"Ration pack?"
"Got it."
"Pup tent?"
"I'm not going to go far from the settlement." America wrapped his arms around England. "I already promised, remember?"
"Yes, but I know you." England had little flashbacks of a child scampering off into the wildernesss. "And you haven't changed a bit."
"Then you know I can handle it, right?"
"You don't know what's down there! No one does, anymore!" England tore away from America and walked over to the wall-sized window, overlooking the Earth.
"Even *you* approved of the research teams' findings, weeks ago!" America caught himself. While watching the distressed look in England's eyes, he quieted his tone. "I'll be back in a few days. I promise."
He tried to hold England again, but England resisted, hiding the horribly embarassing expression he knew he wore. America persisted anyway, and England plunged a thankful sigh into his chest.
"Come back alive."
"I promise." Before closing his eyes, America thought he saw a toddler scamper outside their open doorway. But he dismissed it and hugged England more earnestly.
oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
In a large conference room, with windows overlooking the planet of rearranged continents, America began to sum up his report to the other nations.
"...The tectonics are stable, the atmosphere is habitable-In short, we can move back in anytime."
There was clapping. But not so much because they had learned to overlook America's childish personality or had learned to respect him, during their centuries, living on space stations. But more because the idea of returning to the Earth was such a relief.
England stood up from his seat beside America. "We can each discuss our own decisions and preparations, among our own people. Then bring those plans to the next meeting. Thank you, everyone."
Among the sharing of computer files and latching folder flaps, while everyone shuffled out, America turned to England, "What decisions?"
"Whether it is in each individual country's best interest to return to Earth." "Wait..." America's blue eyes grew wide and quiet. "You're not coming with me?"
"I said nothing of the sort. Living aboard the space stations has just become very comfortalble for some of our people, and not everyone will be capable of leaving. They are not all pioneers."
America's eyes wandered into his visual memory of the settlements he had just returned from. They were still fairly new. And the people were mostly reconissance scientists, rather than settling families. And aside from orbital photos, the surrounding land was still unexplored. "Yeah... I guess I can see that."
England began closing folders on his computer tablet. "Even before you left, I heard people talking about not trusting the planet to not do another large continental shift," England's finger moved across his screen, "a climate change, another global flooding."
"Well, of course it's gonna do another one of those!" America laughed. "But not for another couple milleniums!"
"In any case," England shut off his tablet and slipped it into his briefcase. "Some of our people have already decided to stay. And nations are its people."
America latched his fingers onto England's clothes. Or he would have, if England hadn't turned away, while staring at his watch.
"I'm late for a meeting. I have to go to the France-Canada space station to start surveying the Commonwealth members' opinions, before the next international meeting." He finally glanced at America. "I'll return to our station sometime tomorrow."
"Sometime?" America whined, streching his arms across the conference table. "Whe-en?!"
"When I can get Canada's opinion independent of France's influence." England shook his head and turned away. "I swear, ever since they started sharing that space station..." England's voice trailed out of the room, and he disappeared.
"I don't even get a kiss before you go?" America grummbled, still sprawled out over the table. He rolled over towards one of the windows overlooking the newly arranged Earth. "You're still coming with me, right?" He sighed again, his eyes wandering in the other direction.
There was that child again, this time, clinging to the doorway, watching him.
"Hey, there." America smiled. "This level of the space station is the grown-ups' business level. Is your mom or dad a staffer here?"
The child still hid behind the doorframe, barely showing an eye. He just stared back at America, then skittered away.
"Hey, kid!" America got up. "Little kids shouldn't wander around alone!" But when he got to the doorway, the child was gone again. America checked both directions of the hall, then scratched his head. "Whose kid is that?"
oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
No work done. All England wanted to do, was rush through this meeting with Canada, so he could get back to America. Maybe even in time for tea. He really wished they could have just done a video-conference meeting, but politeness required that such major issues be discussed in-person. But today, they got no work done. And all because he couldn't stop staring, speechless, at the child in Canada's lap. France was laughing with pride and continuing to jabber on about nonsense, no doubt. While Canada kept his arms around the child, blushing, and unable to meet England's eyes for more than a second.
"I have to make a call!" England got up, completely forgetting about politenesses, and found a private corridor, where he could pull out his computer tablet and dial America. "Pick up, pick up...!"
Back on the space station which America shared with England, America noticed his smart phone was ringing. "Hello?"
"America?!"
"England!" America's smile elevated a few notches. But staring at England's face on the compact screen, America began to pout. "You totally left before even kissing me goodb-"
"I'm going to be delayed for a few more days! I have to check something at the other space stations!"
"Check what? Wait! England!"
But he had hung up already. England kept tapping his finger on the side of his tablet. "It just can't be! ...Can it?"
Back on his station, America shook his phone in his hand, and stamped his foot. "You call that a phone call!?" After a few moments, he calmed down, then stared at the blank screen on his phone. "We didn't even really talk..." His voice trailed off and his blue eyes drooped. Then he finally groaned and shoved the phone in his back pocket.
America continued leaning over the railing, overlooking the terrarium level. "Terrarium Level," he rolled his eyes. He had wanted to call it the "Ultra Earth Experience Level", or the "Super Sample Earth Level". But England said that future generations wouldn't revere the memory of living on Earth, if it was named that. So he let England have his way. And England let him put kids' play parks and sports fields amid the meadows and scenic groves.
America started watching the children on the playset swings, and he thought it was a good idea. He pushed off of the balcony railing and headed down the level, to where the grass and trees were. Passing by a lot of couples on the garden paths, his ears wandered over their chatter. It was hard to tell who had a British accent and who was American, with some of them. "I guess we've been on this station a long time together." America smiled to himself. A couple walked past, pushing a stroller. Actually, a lot of them were. It was popular to bring children to the Terrarium Level.
"Hey, it's that kid." America stopped some distance from the swings.
The little child who he had seen after the meeting, was swinging. Along with all the other children, who were being chased and watched by their parents.
America was a little relieved. "His mom must be one of these ladies." He had a seat on a park bench, and waited for the kids to finish with the swings.
Not too long, the parents scooped up their children, and warned them it was time to go home.
America glanced at the clock post behind him, out of habit. Sometimes it was impossible to tell the time, on the station, since almost all the light was artificial. But the Terrarium Level made a point of dimming and brightening the lights, to simulate the sun, for the sake of the plantlife there.
The children all scampered off with their parents, as it got dark. All except the child from the other day. America got up to take an empty swing beside him.
"Isn't your mom or dad going to get worried?" A Hero just couldn't leave the kid without making sure he was ok.
The little boy shook his head and kept swinging.
"You might want to go home soon. It's going to get cold, when the lights get dark. Just like Earth." America started pulling his swing's chains, parallel with the "sky". Which was actually thick panels of metal. "Ahhh...! It'll be nice to go back to Earth! Look *up* at the stars, or a daylight sky."
"I don't wanna go."
America stopped and turned towards the child swinging next to him. "You don't wanna go? But Earth is really fun."
The tiny boy just kept swinging.
"Ah, well." America rocked his swing. "To each their own." He smiled. "Hey, do you wanna have a swinging contest?"
The boy finally looked at him. And when he did, America noted something odd under his swaying bangs of hair.
"Heyyyy!" America started pointing and laughing.
"What!?" The boy's sudden indignant tone startled America.
"I know someone with eyebrows just like yours!"
One of the boy's cheeks swelled up into a pout. "Don't make fun of me."
"I'm not, I'm not." Though America was practically laughing.
"You sound like it." The boy returned to focus on swinging.
America remembered his own swing. "Whoever does the most swings at the top, wins, alright?"
The boy's expression suddenly brightened. "Okay!"
America backed up his swing and pushed off.
oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
England's briefcase swung back and forth, as he staggered. "I can't believe it..." He muttered.
The bedroom door slid open.
"England!" America put down a toy biplane and jumped at him. "You're finally back!"
England tried to hold America steady, as his wrapped arms, practically shook England. "Yes, yes..." England patted America's arm. "Now let me put my things down. I'm spent."
"Okay!" America bounced away.
When he did, England stared at what he saw on their bed. A little boy, playing with America's toy soldiers and planes. "America..." He hesitated to move.
"Do you want some tea or something to eat? We've got cookies out already."
"Yes, this 'we'..."
"Hm?"
"Aren't you going to introduce us?" He managed to sit on a chair, while his eyes never left the child.
"What?" America emerged from behind a cabinet door, clasping a bag of tea in his mouth.
"Who is this kid!?" England yelled.
The boy snapped out of his playing and stared back at England.
"He has a strand of hair, sticking up, like you..."
"Oh, hey! You're right!" He came over and rubbed the boy's hair. "I guess I didn't notice!" He started laughing.
The boy smiled brightly, but then glanced for a moment at England, and began to blush under America's hand. He pretended to be preoccupied playing with toys, rather than enjoying America ruffling his hair.
"What is his name?" England continued almost shaking nervously.
"Hm." America paused and stared up in thought. Then he directed at the child, "You haven't told me your name yet, huh? Isn't that wierd?" He started laughing and ruffling his hair again.
"Are you an idiot!?" England shot up from his chair. "How could you be keeping a child here, without even knowing his name?! And where did he come from?!"
"You don't have to yell." One of America's cheeks swelled up. "We just got busy playin'. It happens. And I sent out bulletins and announcements all over the station's networks. No one's missing a kid."
"America," England rubbed a hand into his forhead. "All the other space stations, each have an unclaimed child, appearing from no where. I've seen them."
"My god!" America clenched a fist. "Villians are abandoning children!"
"No, you idiot!"
"A supervillian is switching around kids to stations where they won't be recognized?"
"IDIOT! They're *our* children! They each look like the nations sharing space stations!" England pulled out his computer tablet and opened picture files. "Look!"
America took the tablet and scrolled through pictures of pairs, trios, or groups of nations, photographed with a child in each group's lap.
"Hey, this girl looks like Austria and Hungary, but her expression is all Prussia..." He chuckled. Then America remembered the child playing with his toys. "Soooo, kid," his tone was far too hesitant. "What *is* your name?"
The boy reached out to pass him a toy biplane. "You two have to give me one."