A/N: This is a little drabble I wrote for a friend on tumblr :) Thought I'd put it up.

Summary: Drabble for askalba on tumblr about Scotland's Independence.

Disclaimer: I do not own Scotland nor England. England belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya and Scotland belongs to the minds and hearts of many fangirls who wished he existed properly.

2014.

It had been put off for months. Years even. Or, maybe, more than just years. This was a rivalry that had been going on for centuries. A bitter feud, filled with so much miscommunication and forced actions by bosses, that neither knew how to act around the other anymore.

The fire was still there, in the pit of his stomach. It boiled and burned, making his fists clench and unclench, his teeth grit slightly, his eyes narrow in dim mistrust. But it no longer claimed him, no longer consumed him until he was beating his own brother into the ground, hands covered in the blood of his own family. But it was a calling he could not have ignored. It was the fire of his people, their hatred that filled him. His own feelings mattered not, the power of his countrymen being all-consuming and far too strong to ignore.

But, amongst the scars and painful memories and the all too real reality pulling them apart, Scotland held a certain level of respect for his brother. France had once described it, over a few bottles of whiskey and wine, as England's inability to give up. The blonde haired country had an air about him, of pride both intact and damaged. This pride spurred him on. It led to him becoming one of the most powerful countries of the entire world whilst under the reign of Queen Victoria. And Scotland had been part of that glory. But, due to actions more so on the English people and not his brother, it was England that became the most well-known country amongst all the others.

But Scotland couldn't bring himself to hate him.

One Summer day, when things were peaceful, Scotland had come to visit the young America and Canada alongside his brother, who made it out to be because he wanted to boast about his new colonies. At first Scotland had been livid, wanting to shove England off of the side of the boat for being so insensitive. But, when they arrived and the two little blondes came running up to them both, the tender smile England gave made Scotland stop dead in his tracks.

He had always thought his little brother as being a sort of brat, forever craving attention and hating being the underdog. The sort of person incapable of caring for others. So, seeing England ruffle America's hair fondly, whilst trying to appear like he didn't care in front of Scotland, made the red head chuckle under his breath, following his brother into the nearby house with an amused smile.

It had been a learning experience, that day. There was never one quite like it afterwards, for Scotland was very rarely allowed to see Canada or America. When they both gained their independence, however, Scotland went for regular visits to see the both of them, though he held a soft spot for Canada.

It changed how Scotland felt towards England, and he found himself arguing back against his boss and his government when they put forward the request for independence.

2014, they said. We will have our independence, they said.

Scotland didn't want it. He was going to be cut off from all of his brothers. Ireland would be the only country he'd be allowed to spend time with, since the bitterness towards Scotland and his people from the rest of the UK would make his brothers act differently towards him, either by their own feelings or how their people felt. True, Scotland didn't mind this in the slightest in the sense that he and Ireland were close. But he didn't want to lose his family.

"It's time."

Scotland stepped forward, dressed in a formal suit with his hair neat for once. He did not look up, for he'd only see England's jade green eyes, filled with emotions Scotland didn't want to see. He picked up the pen and reached for the agreement placed before him. Reading over it to check what he was agreeing to, Scotland tried his best not to throw the agreement back in his boss's face. Hesitating for only a second, the red headed country signed his own Declaration of Independence.

He knew what England was thinking. He met his eyes for only a second before he glanced away, and it was enough to make him wince. England looked betrayed, and more than a little bitter, for he had already lost his colonies and had to sign so many similar agreements. Seeing one for his own brother was sure to be painful.

But Scotland had no choice.

The agreement was given to England. He signed it, hand wavering only a little before pen met paper. The document was then taken to one side to be signed by the humans present, chiefly David Cameron and Alex Salmond. And, when for a brief moment their eyes met again, Scotland said one thing and one thing only.

"Bràthair."

England's eyes widened and, despite how cool and collected he was trying to act, his green eyes were tearing up slightly.

"Brother."

A small smile graced Scotland's features; he had not called England his brother in many decades, centuries since he had said it in his own language. It was how he had addressed him when they were children, growing up in the highlands together.

It was over. The members of the Scottish Parliament and Cabinet left, bidding Scotland to go with them. The red head gave his brother a small nod before turning and leaving.

His people may no longer be British, but Scotland knew his heart lay with his brothers, nevermind what the rest of the world called them or what had changed by signing that agreement.

They were family, through and through. And that would never change.