Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. It rightfully belongs to it's owner Hidekaz Himaruya. I am not trying to make profit out of it. Just practicing my writing skills with my favorite manga!
AN: "Papa, où t'es?" means "Dad, where are you?"
Summary of historical facts:
France lost Canada after the Seven Years' War; a.k.a the French and Indian War (1756-1763).
During that time, North America was divided between 3 big colonial powers: France, England, and Spain. The British owned a portion of the territory on the East coast. The French owned the central zone, which was called Louisiana (however it has nothing to do with todays Louisiana State), and Canada. Spain owned Florida, and the southern part of the American territory.
This era was called "Area of the French influence" or "Area of the Spanish influence" because France and Spain didn't settle down in North America; they came to America mainly for commercial reasons (like trading with the Natives). The British we're the only ones actually settling down in North America.
The Seven Years' War was fought between France and England because of conflicts over boarders that were very undefined. As The British were settling in North America, they wanted to go further west but the French were occupying it, which lead to a series of conflicts, like the fight for the control over the Ohio Valley in 1754. Then that led, two year later, to the Seven Years War.
At the same time there was also fighting in Europe, but I won't go into the detail.
In the end Britain won and it ended with a Treaty of Paris. Great Britain received all of the French possessions East of the Mississippi river, Canada and Florida. Spain received all of the French possessions West of Mississippi (Lousiana).
Où t'es? Papa, où t'es?
The leaves and branches crunched beneath each step Canada made. The cool wind whistled in his ears as he raced through the forest. He huffed with effort too tired to push the branches out of his way as they scraped past. Tears streamed down his cheeks but he kept his sobs inside. He ran, fleeing, but he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Où t'es papa? Où t'es?
30 minutes earlier.
Canada was walking down the familiar forest path he took everyday to his favorite spot in the forest. He was in a good mood, and the clear sunny day emphasizing it. Nature seemed to join in with his high spirits; the trees swayed back in forth in the gentile breeze as if dancing in tone with his perky aura. A rabbit hoped happily across his path, He heard birds, just out of sight, singing a beautiful melody that he fancied was just for him.
Canada's native tribes had taught him to respect all living things and to live in harmony with Nature, and in return, Nature would give him everything he needed. You just need to know how to find it and use it well. They had taught him the art of herbal medicine, how to hunt and many more things. But that in the end he should always thank nature for its abundance.
He had gotten to the end of the forest and now walked across a plain, which opened up to a great lake. He took in a long breath of the fresh air, and gripped his toes into the soft sand. A deer came up to him. He turned around and smiled at it, he ran a hand through its soft fur. The deer nuzzled closer to Canada.
His smile broadened as thoughts wandered. France was due to arrive today. France had told Canada on his last visit that he would return in exactly six months. The six months had now passed, which meant he would be arriving soon. Canada was growing impatient.
Suddenly he heard some noise getting closer with every passing second, coming towards him. The birds in the nearby trees took flight and soared away, the bunnies hiding in the underbrush scattered. The deer lifted its head up and stared intensely at where the noise was coming from. Its muscles bunched up, ready to leap away at any moment.
Out of the forest and into clear view came America, who was running at full speed towards his brother, and then England, who followed a few paces behind walking at a steady pace. The deer bounded away, startled by the noise and Canada was left alone.
"See! I told you he'd be here! He always comes here! It's his favorite spot! I know it because I'm the hero!" America babbled as he rushed onwards.
"Yes, yes. I know." England responded, taking his time as he made his way over.
Canada was quite astonished; it was rare for England to come visiting him on a whim. However he was not entirely surprised. Recently, England had been visiting Canada more and more frequently, and France had been appearing less and less. He didn't pay much attention about it at the time, but now he felt as if something bad was awaiting him.
America went to stand next to his brother holding a proud demeanor, satisfied to have accomplished his mission. When England arrived, he greeted Canada, who replied with his own greeting.
"Why are you here?" Canada inquired in his usual quiet voice.
"I have come to get you." England replied matter of fact, although still trying not to sound to harsh. "You're under my responsibility now." Then he added after a short pause. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you." He smiled.
Canada's eyes widened and he took a few steps back, shaking his head slightly.
"Non…" he whispered. And for a few seconds he thought he had misheard it.
"Où est France?" - (Where is France?) Canada asked, a little louder this time, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.
England sighed. He knew it wasn't going to be easy. After all, France had been the one to raise Canada from the beginning, and he knew how attached Canada was to him.
"France is not coming and never will. He has abandoned you." England thought that being blunt would get Canada to come with him.
Canada froze. Time seemed to have stopped, and for a few seconds he forgot to breath. He just couldn't believe what England had said.
Then anger slowly started rising inside him. He clenched his fists. The wind grew colder. The whole forest fell silent as if holding its breath.
Finally Canada regained control of himself and gave England a stare that closely resembled a glare. He felt the anger rise up to its peak, and thought that he would explode.
"You're lying!" He bawled. He clenched his fists tighter until they hurt.
England, who was shocked to see Canada in furry, snapped out of it quickly and became outraged himself. He opened his mouth to say something, but instantly stopped himself and gawked in shock at what he saw.
Two brown bears had emerged from behind Canada and went to stand on each side of him, growling menacingly. England grew panicked, though he tried to keep his calm. America was smiling the whole time, seemingly enjoying what he was seeing.
Canada used that moment to escape. England tried to go after him, but quickly stopped after just taking two steps; one of the bears growled and took one step forward, unsheathing his claws, warning England that if he tried to move any closer, the bear would tears him to sheds.
Canada ran through the forest at full speed, heading for the dock. Tears fell down his cheeks. He didn't want to believe what England had said. He wanted to believe that France would never abandon him. That he will always come for him. Yet, deep down, a small part of him felt doubtful.
Once he had arrived, he waited and gazed towards the horizon, hoping to see a boat arrived. But nothing could be seen except for the calm sea. He sat down cross-legged and waited, memories flashing through his mind.
"Alors Matthieu, t'es près à faire des crêpes?" - (So, Matthieu, are you ready to make crepes?) France cheerfully said as he gathered the ingredients.
"Oui!" Matthew jumped up and down excitedly. It was his first time cooking with his papa. France had decided crêpes were an easy start.
France listed the ingredients they would need, but then stopped in mid sentence when he saw Canada's confused and flustered face. "Quelque chose ne va pas?" – (Is something wrong?) he asked.
"C'est beaucoup de chose… je ne sais si je vais me souvenir de tout." (That's a lot of stuff... I don't think that I can remember all of it.) Canada mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.
"Ne t'en fait pas, je vais te guider." (Don't worry about it, I will guide you.) France smiled. "Le premier ingredient est la farine. Peux-tu me l'apporter, s'il te plais?" - [i] (The first ingredient is flour. Can you bring it to me, please?)
Canada went to fetch the flour. It was in a cupboard out of his reach so he took a chair and climbed up. He opened the cupboard and extended his arm out as far as he could to reach for it. He managed to grab it and drag it out. Then he climbed back down. But just when he reached the floor, he noticed the flour was pouring out of the bag and then noticed there was a cut in the bag. He yelped and tried to cover the hole with his hands but it was too late; most of it had gone. There wasn't enough left to make the crêpes.
France, who had been busy preparing the rest of the ingredients, turned around just then, and noticed the mess Canada had made. Canada stared back at him with terrified eyes, still holding onto the bag, too frightened to move. France came up to him.
"Je-je suis désolé…" (I-I'm sorry...) Canada stuttered, his eyes started to water.
France crouched down to his eye level on one knee and gave him a reassuring smile. "Ce n'est pas grave, ne t'en fait pas." (It's not serious, don't worry yourself.) He patted him on the head. "Ça arrive." (Things happen.) Then he stood up. "On va nétoyer ça. Et puis on recommencera une autre fois." (We can clean this up. And then we can start again another time.) France declared.
One night, Canada had woken up from a bad dream. He sat upright in his bed and stared blankly in front of him, his eyes big and round, he griped his white teddy bear tightly. He could hear thunder, which wasn't helping his fears, and shivered slightly. He knew he couldn't go back to sleep so he decided to get up. His small feet touched the cold wooden floor. He left his room and headed straight for France's. Once in front of the room, he hesitated an instant before slowly opening the door. He swiftly sneaked in and slipped under the covers, which caused France to wake up. For a moment France was perplexed but he quickly noticed that Canada had joined him, and smiled. Canada snuggled in closer and France wrapped an arm around him. It wasn't the first time Canada had come into his room at night because of a bad dream; France was used to it. He usually sang a lullaby and by the end of the song Canada was asleep.
Au clair de la lune,
Mon ami Pierrot,
Prête-moi ta plume,
Pour écrire un mot.
Ma chandelle est morte,
Je n'ai plus de feu,
Ouvre-moi ta porte,
Pour l'amour de Dieu.
"There you are." England's voice snapped Canada out of his daydreaming.
He looked up to see England standing next to him, waiting patiently. Canada instantly got up feeling tense, ready to flee again. But England calmly extended a hand out to Canada and smiled.
"Come with me." England said. "Everything will be fine, I promise." He assured. Canada relaxed a bit but made no move towards England.
"You can't keep waiting." England insisted. "You have to accept that he will never come for you again." He paused, staring deeply into Canada's hurt eyes. He felt a bit guilty for hurting him so, but knew that he had to say it. He has to know the truth, England thought. "If you come with me, you will be reunited with you're brother." he said and waited for an answer.
Canada sighed and reluctantly took England's hand. England smiled and they left, heading back home.
Still, Canada took one last glance towards the horizon.
Où est ton papa? (Where is your dad?)
Dis-moi, où est ton papa? (Tell me, where is your dad?)
Sans même devoir lui parler, Il sait ce qui ne va pas. (Without having to talk to him, he already know what is wrong.)
Ah sacré papa! (Oh, what a dad!)
Dis-moi où es-tu cache? (Tell me where you're hiding?)
Ça doit faire au moins mille fois que j'ai compté mes doigts. (I must have counted my fingers at least a thousand times already.)
Où t'es papa?
AN: The lyrics for the last song are taken from "Papaoutai" by Stromae. The first song is called "Au claire de la lune" and it's a French nursery rhyme.