Remember, remember, that awesome movie, V for Vendetta's the best. Twice been paired with Hetalia, and I have to tell ya, this may put my writing skills to the test.
Lol, couldn't resist.
So yeah, I think V for Vendetta is a rockin' movie. I actually first watched it because I had heard my boyfriend YamiYugi777 gush about it several times. It came on TV one day and…I was hooked.
And I've read both of the crossovers with Hetalia. I didn't think there was anything I could add. Then I wrote Separation, and came up with my capitals, so…a plot bunny hit me.
Hope you like it! Sorry if V is a little OOC.
Disclaimer; If I ever claim to own Hetalia or V for Vendetta, may V lock me in the Old Bailey just before he blows it up.
The knock on the front door jolted the two occupants of the bedroom. The young man sitting in the chair stood and rolled his neck, trying to get a kink out of it. The teenage boy lying in the bed, sporting the man's messy blond hair and green eyes (really the only difference between their faces was the fact that the man's eyebrows were twice the size of the boy's) stirred a little, not quite feeling up to doing any more. "Dad," he croaked weakly. This caused the man, Arthur Kirkland, or the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, to pause at the bedroom door.
He gave his ill son a weak smile, tinged too much with worry and care to be very reassuring. "It's alright, Charles. I'll be right back."
"It's just…if it's someone from Norsefire, please don't let them in. Ingrid said over the phone that Mr. Germany leaves the room every time Sutler comes on the telly, because he reminds him too much of Hitler."
"I can't easily refuse them, Charles. The party is very influential. But rest assured, I will try, for your peace of mind." With that, he left the room.
Charlie Kirkland, the city of London, sighed once he was alone. Influential was right. It was even more so with the outbreak of that new, deadly virus-the virus that was the very reason he was abed. Thankfully, he hadn't caught the actual virus, but the very fact that it was loose in his city meant that he wasn't exactly in the best of health. Some days he was fine, and some days, like this day, he wanted to die, he was so sick. He just knew how this years' election was going to turn out. And he wasn't too happy with this knowledge.
"That new party's bothering you, is it? I guess a Catholic king looks pretty good now."
Charlie scowled before mustering up enough energy to chuck a pillow at the ghost in the corner of his room. It of course passed harmlessly through. "Shut up, Guy!"
The ghost of Guy Fawkes did indeed shut his mouth, looking at the boy in concern as he tried to get his breath back after the effort. He had haunted Charlie ever since his execution, and dash it all if the centuries hadn't made him grow fond of the boy.
When Charlie was breathing easy again, he sighed once more. "I'm sorry, Guy. It's just that on top of being under the weather people are dying of this stupid virus and we can't stop it. I feel almost as bad as I did during the bloody Plague!"
Guy smiled gently at him. "I'm sure it will all turn out alright, God willing."
The two lapsed into silence as they waited for England to reenter the room. From downstairs Charlie could hear raised voices. Whoever was at the door, his father did not agree with them in the slightest. Soon it slammed shut and England could be heard stomping up the stairs.
"Bloody party members don't think I can handle taking care of my son," he grumbled as he came back in the room.
"What did they want, Dad?" Charlie asked him as he sat back down in the chair.
"To take you to a hospital. They wouldn't leave when I explained that no, you didn't have the St. Mary's virus. I had to get my bloody cutlass out." He glanced at the corner of the room. "Hello Guy. Did Charles throw his pillow at you again?"
They didn't talk about the visitors for the rest of the day, but Charlie pondered them and discussed them with Guy after England had gone to bed. Eventually, they agreed it was nothing to worry about and Charlie went to sleep.
However, the night had a surprise for him.
CRASH!
Charlie jolted awake as his window shattered. Struggling to sit up, he noticed in horror that black-clad men were crawling into his room. "Da-" he called out before a black bag was forced over his head. Through it, he could hear his bedroom door opening as they tried to pull him through the window.
"Get the bloody hell away from my son-!" He heard England cry before there was a sickening thud and the sound of a body hitting the floor.
"Dad!" He cried through the cloth. He struggled in vain against his captors. Too soon, he had exhausted himself. He cursed his ill state. "Guy! Help!" He said, though he knew the ghost couldn't really do anything.
Before he slipped away into unconsciousness, cold fingers clamped onto his own and he heard Guy say "It's alright, Charlie! I'll stay with you!"
Charlie stared at his cell door with determination. Ever since he had been brought here, he had stared at that door every day. He knew that Sutler had won the election (the man had come to gloat about it to him), that he was being held to be used as leverage against his father (again, Sutler had been gloating), and, judging by his improved health, that the virus had been cleared up. It was the third fact that gave him determination. Now that he wasn't weak every other day, it was time to escape.
Guy, who had, true to his word, stayed with him every moment of his imprisonment, floated through the door. "All clear."
Charlie nodded before he closed his eyes and began to chant a simple unlocking spell. With a click, the door swung open. Quietly, he slipped into the hall. Guy floated ahead of him, keeping a lookout for guards. Charlie didn't want to test his scrawny frame against them, and simply did his best to hide when Guy warned him.
His luck ran out when he was close to the door to freedom. Before he knew how it had happened, three guards had him cornered. "Great lookout job, Guy." He muttered as one raised a club to knock him out.
"Don't give me that, they came from behind!"
Quite suddenly the guard with the club froze and let out a strangled cry, dropping his club. He fell to the ground after it, his back spouting blood. The other two were quickly disposed of before they had a chance to react. When the action stopped, Charlie got a good look at his savior. He quickly took in the black clothes (complete with a cape that gave Charlie a pang, thinking of how his boyfriend Pierre would have laughed at memories of France's ridiculous uniform during WWII), wig, and hat. The oddest part, though, was the white mask.
He whistled. "Looks like old Guy has a fan…" The ghost grumbled something along the lines of "I hate those masks." Charlie ignored him. "Thank you. May I ask who you are?"
The masked man was silent for a bit, studying him, then answered "You may call me V."
"Well, V-strange name, by the way-thanks again. My name is Charles Kirkland. You can call me 'Charlie'. Everyone else does."
V inclined his head. "Well, met, Charlie. If I may be so bold, what are you doing here?"
Charlie sighed. "I'll give you the simple version. My dad is very important in the government. His is a position that simply cannot be eliminated. So, to keep him quiet, they took me here. I was actually wondering the same thing myself about you."
"Reconnaissance." was V's short reply. They heard a commotion down the hall. "It seems they know you're walking about. Come, let us leave."
V led him to safety underground. There, he told V the true identities of himself and his father, but V was rather secret about his own past. What he did learn, however, was V's plan to bring down Norsefire.
"You want to blow up Parliament?!" He screeched, causing a somewhat amused Guy to say "I don't think they heard you over in Wales, lad."
"Guy, not the time! This is serious!" Sometimes Charlie wondered if Guy haunted America in his spare time.
"Calm down, Charlie." Guy said. "He just wants to blow up a couple of buildings. Tell me, do you really think it is as important to your wellbeing as it was when I attempted it?"
Charlie stopped, then his shoulders slumped. "You're right. Barmy old ghost…"
V spoke, reminding the two he was there. "Who are you talking to?"
Charlie's face flamed in embarrassment. It was too easy to forget other people couldn't see what he could. "I'm sort of haunted by Guy Fawkes. He likes your plan. And he pointed out that I probably don't need Parliament to live like I did in 1605."
V nodded, though Charlie wasn't sure if he fully believed him.
Charlie thought. He had heard of the government's tightening grip on the people, had dreamed of the complaints of those living in his city. He could imagine that his father was having a rough time with Sutler. He didn't really like the idea, but it could work. He looked V right in the eye holes of his mask.
"I want in."
Charlie and Guy sat on the rooftop, gazing out at his city. After so many years, V's plan was to be put into action. He heard a step behind him and turned. "You're late," he said to V. "How is it that you almost missed your own performance?"
"I was a bit sidetracked." V replied, stepping aside and showing Charlie the young woman he had brought with him. He studied her, and she him. He could feel her taking in the black clothes he now wore to match V's, complete with cape. However, he wore no hat or wig, and instead of the Guy Fawkes mask he wore a white domino (he silently apologized to Turkey every time he put it on for stealing his look), and used a cutlass smuggled from his house by the fairies rather than knives.
"Hullo, Evey Hammond. I am V's partner in crime. Call me L." He said, smiling at her surprise that he knew her name. His thoughts flashed back to a certain Japanese girl who would have been squealing at hearing his codename.
"How do you-"
"Sorry, that's a trade secret." He said, cutting her off.
Charlie didn't say much more, letting V do the talking. However, he joined V in saying "Remember, remember, the fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot."
He felt a sort of exhilaration as the 1812 overture played and the Old Bailey blew sky-high. He laughed at V's baton-waving, as though a large orchestra was before him. His laughter was cut short by a hiss of pain. Rolling up his sleeve, he found a burn on his right arm about the size of a bottle cap. "Not as bad as I thought it would be," he mused. "Maybe you're right, Guy. Blowing up Parliament might not kill me." The ghost's only reply was to laugh. "You're still not off the hook for trying."
Charlie felt Evey's eyes on him, and he smiled at her. She must have been having quite the night; meeting up with a masked man who takes her to a rooftop to watch as the Old Bailey explodes, and on said rooftop is a masked boy who talks to the air. Quite the night indeed.
As the two walked back to the Shadow Gallery, Charlie decided to ask about her.
"Why did you bring her with you?" he questioned first. "She didn't have to see it." Silence was his only answer. "Okay. So you saved her from some Fingermen. I get that. But I thought this plan was just going to involve you and me." When V still did not say anything, he sighed. "Honestly, it's worse than trying to talk to Mr. Sweden! He at least answers, even if you can't understand him half the time, and the other half you're wetting yourself." Nothing. He was still getting the silent treatment. He huffed and started thinking out loud. "Evey Hammond. Evey. E…V…" a thought struck. "Strange. In Latin, that means 'exit V'. Don't you think that's odd, V?"
"A coincidence." Aha, finally, a response! But…
"I thought you didn't believe in coincidences."
Charlie couldn't help but grin. Oh, the look on that security guard's face was priceless! Of course, he probably didn't expect the weird masked man to fling aside his cape and reveal a bomb strapped to his chest.
And with that, V had gained control of the TV station. It was time to play their little video.
"I still feel weird with it starting with 'Good Evening, London'." He whispered to V as it started playing. On every screen across London, there was now an image of V sitting behind a desk. Guy chuckled.
The V on the screen finished his piece. V's symbol appeared, and after a few seconds the words "Keep Calm and Carry On -L" were superimposed over it-a message for his father.
One daring escape from Fingermen involving dressed up hostages later, and they were close to home free. Of course, there was that one detective that caught them unawares and had a gun on them…oh look there's Evey with her mace…ouch, that had to hurt.
"I can't decide if she was being brave, or wasn't thinking." Charlie said as V stood over the unconscious woman.
V didn't respond to that, but picked Evey up. Charlie raised a brow. "I doubt she'll be happy when she wakes up."
Later…
"Why didn't you just leave me alone?!" Evey stormed out of the room.
"I'd be lying if I said that I hate to say 'I told you so'."
Charlie sighed as V used Evey's ID badge to enter the building. "Are you determined to make her mad at you?" V didn't reply, which was an unfortunate habit of his. "Whatever. I really want to hit this guy. Can I rough him up a bit before you finish him off?"
V nodded, then said amusedly, "Truly, you are a sadistic young man."
"With an anger problem. Blame my days as a pirate's cabin boy."
They traveled up to the residence of Louis Prothero, finding him in the shower reciting along with his latest television broadcast. As Prothero closed his medicine cabinet still saying "England prevails", he caught sight of them in the mirror.
"Personally, I like 'Keep Calm and Carry On.' It's got a nice ring to it…"
Prothero slipped and fell to the floor. Charlie burst out laughing. V stepped forward, but Charlie darted in front. "Let me go first. Your piece ends with him dead."
He turned to the terrified man, stalking forward even as Prothero scooted back. "Louis Prothero. The 'Voice of London'. I've got a bone to pick with you. Two, in fact. The first; 'The Voice of London'? Hah! Sounds like you're either trying to take words from my mouth, or putting words in that have no business being there."
"You…you're-" Prothero began before Charlie cut him off with a punch to the jaw.
"Which brings me to my second bone! I don't like your words about America a few days ago. How DARE you say that about my STEPFATHER?!" He roared, kicking Prothero in the ribs. Hard. "HOW DARE YOU?!" Each word was punctuated by a strike. "America is ten times the man that you will-" Punch. "Ever-" Kick. "Be!" When he was finished, he grabbed the shoulders of the bruised and bloody Prothero and hissed in his ear. "Word of advice; if you want to insult someone, meet them first. And if you're supposed to be speaking for the country, find out what the country actually thinks before you open your mouth." He released him, and walked away. "Fat lot of good it'll do you now. He's all yours, V. I'll be outside."
As he waited for V to finish, he was greeted by some old friends. "Hullo, Minty, Cocoa." He said to the green and brown winged bunnies. "How's Dad?"
"England saw your message on TV. He wanted me to tell you that he's proud of you." Flying Mint Bunny said. Flying Chocolate Bunny, Charlie's personal friend, chimed in with "I heard him mutter 'I never thought I would be proud of him for being an important part of a revolution'."
Charlie grinned. The fairies had allowed him to keep in contact with his father over the years, so he knew much of what went on in the government. "Thanks, guys. Could you remind Dad that at least one good thing came out of the American Revolution? Namely, his marriage?" The bunnies giggled before disappearing.
To find V fencing the suit of armor while The Count of Monte Cristo played on the small telly was not an unusual sight for Charlie. Indeed, the only reason the statue had to suffer was because Charlie had stopped acting out the fight scene with him years ago. What had Charlie stupefied, however, was that V was sitting quietly on the couch, and not playing Edmond Dantes with the unfortunate suit of armor. And was that the end of the movie? His eyes landed on Evey, who was sitting on the couch next to V. There's something about her. He thought. Somehow, V thinks she's special.
However, he had no time to think on it, as the screen had switched to the news broadcast of Prothero's death. Evey was furious. "You just said you killed Louis Prothero!" She shouted.
"Oh, please." Charlie cut in. "He's not just dead-he's got a nice collection of bruises, and I'm pretty sure I broke at least one rib."
Evey whirled on him. "You beat him up?!"
"Well, yeah. He insulted my family, and was telling lies about my dad." Of course Evey didn't quite understand it, and he just walked out of the room.
Some time later, after Evey had offered to help, he was able to talk to her one-on-one (it was more like a question and answer session). It was while she was cleaning around the Shadow Gallery.
"Who are you really?" She asked him.
"I can't really tell you that." He responded with an apologetic smile. "But I'll let you try to figure it out."
She frowned at him, but decided not to press the matter. "Why are you with V?"
"That I can tell you. My father holds a very important government position. They kidnapped me during the St. Mary's virus affair, to make sure that he would cooperate. It wasn't long before I attempted an escape, almost made it too. V rescued me, and no, I have absolutely no idea what he was doing there, he never gave me a straight answer. I've been helping him since. It was his idea that I go by a codename, to keep Dad safe."
"Why did you choose 'L'?"
"It has something to do with my identity, so I can't answer you fully. However, a small part of it was that I have a friend from Japan who would make my ears bleed if she heard it, and start going on about Death Note."
"What's Death Note?"
"It's a show about some bloke with a piece of paper that can kill people. Leastways, that's what I could gather from her fangirling." He smirked at her. "Are you just going to ask me questions all day?"
"I'm just trying to get to know you and V." She responded.
"Good luck getting to know V." he said. "I still know almost nothing about him. And you already know me, so the questions are kind of pointless." With that, he walked away, leaving her confused.
Blimey, he had always been in awe whenever he saw his dad do that!
Evey's stunt with the Bishop didn't come as too much of a surprise. Okay, that was a lie. Just because he was the personification of the city she lived in didn't mean he was privy to her every thought. It was more like he had a general idea of how the people living there felt. But when he chased her down the halls of the cathedral, it was not to find out why. When he caught up to her, he grabbed her arm.
"Let go of me!" She shouted, trying to hit him.
"I'm not trying to stop you!" That gave her pause. "I know why you're doing this. I can imagine how you've felt since you found out about Prothero. I don't even want to kill anyone else, because I have no conflict with them, just Prothero. So I'm going to let you go. Just let me do this, okay?" Unsure of what he wanted to do, she nodded. He held his hand in front of her face and whispered some Latin words that sent chills up her spine. When he finished, he said "I'm nowhere near as good with magic as my dad, but that should keep you unnoticed until you reach your destination, provided you don't do something stupid like knock over a trash can." He released her arm. "Now go. Neither of us will chase you."
Perhaps that would have been all that he would have seen of Evey Hammond for quite a while if it wasn't for the news he later received. Flying Mint Bunny and Flying Chocolate Bunny appeared in the Shadow Gallery, clearly agitated. The second the fairies spotted Charlie, they launched themselves at him, crying.
"What's wrong, guys?" he asked, stroking the bunnies between the ears in an effort to calm them. However, his hand stilled and his eyes widened as their story came out between sobs. His worst fears were realized; England had been arrested. It wasn't because they had figured out he was L. No, Norsefire had discovered a different fact, because someone had snooped in England's office and found his wedding photo.
More specifically, his and America's wedding photo.
What happened next was a blur. He vaguely remembered saying something to V, who wasn't aware of the development thanks to being unable to see the fairies, about needing some air, and the next thing he knew, he was on the supports of Tower Bridge. Capitals often found solace in their landmarks; Charlie recalled a time when his pyrophobic stepbrother G.W. had freaked at a fire juggler's torch dropping into a bush and lighting it up. They found him hours later on the Washington Monument. And not inside it, on the observation platform; he was sitting right on its pointy top. They still had no clue how he got there.
Thinking about his stepbrother caused him to let out a sob. Charlie hadn't seen him since before the Saint Mary's virus, and had only been able to communicate with him sporadically over the years. Last he knew, the other boy was residing with their uncle What's-his-name and cousin Jean-Claude for safety. The thoughts gave way to ones of his imprisoned dad, and he allowed the tears to flow freely. Flying Chocolate Bunny snuggled up to him (Flying Mint Bunny had disappeared, presumably returning to England) and he could feel one of Guy's cold hands on his shoulder.
After crying himself dry, Charlie considered where he would go from there. He didn't really want to go back to the Shadow Gallery, not yet, but his old house was out of the question. His thoughts turned to Evey. She was smart, and wouldn't have tried to make her escape if she didn't have somewhere safe to escape to. He quickly searched her out, locating her in the house of a Mr. Gordon Deitrich. Facts about him flashed through Charlie's mind; he had a T.V. show that aired every night…there was a strange extra room in his cellar…he was homosexual…
It was the last part that stuck out to him. Someone like Deitrich was certainly no friend of Norsefire. Perhaps he would be kind enough to let Charlie stay for a while. And of course he'd have to introduce himself before assuming such things, his dad would be appalled otherwise (the last bit was thought a bit bitterly).
The sun had started to rise by the time he made it to Mr. Deitrich's house. He stealthily slipped in through a window, immediately catching a delicious smell. Following it to the kitchen, he found both Evey and Deitrich engaged in conversation. The comedian was just saying "Yes, Evey, I am V. At last you know the truth. You're astonished, I know. It's hard to believe isn't it, that beneath this wrinkled, well-fed exterior there lies a dangerous killing machine with a fetish for Fawkesian masks. ¡Viva la revolucion!"
Charlie could hardly contain his laughter. Evey, on the other hand, looked less than amused. "That is not funny, Gordon."
With a sigh, Deitrich replied "Yeah, I know. I'm useless without a studio audience."
At that, Charlie burst out laughing, alerting the two adults to his presence. Leaning against the doorway for support, he said in between chortles "You…underestimate yourself…Mr. Deitrich…I, for one…thought that…funny. You…as V…ah, ha ha ha…" He dissolved into another giggle fit.
"Evey, isn't this that kid with V?" Gordon asked, flabbergasted.
Evey looked equally stunned. "L, what are you doing here?"
At the mention of the reason for his presence, Charlie quickly sobered. He gazed at the ground, avoiding Evey's and Deitrich's eyes. "Well, yesterday," he said softly, "I found out that my Dad was arrested by Norsefire." The other two looked shocked. "Why?" Evey asked.
Head hung low, Charlie whispered, unsure why he was telling them so much, "They found his wedding photo…from when he married my stepfather."
Shocked silence was all he got from the other two. Charlie could picture that particular photo clearly; England and America, both sporting white tuxes, their hands intertwined and their lips locked. Charlie and G.W. were in the background, as ushers. The ceremony had been held in Paris on a bright and sunny day, and had been one of the happiest days of his life.
As the adults continued to say nothing, he continued, lifting his head. "I need some time to clear my head. V will understand, but I can't go back with him yet. I really need some time in the real world, not some underground hideout. It wasn't hard for me to figure out where Evey went, and I figured it would be safe. If you'll have me, that is."
In the end, Deitrich agreed to let him stay. It probably had to do with the loyalty that citizens felt toward him and his dad, even if they didn't know exactly who-and what-they were.
The quiet days spent at Deitrich's house, away from the underground plotting, were just what he needed. He knew that he was a bit of an enigma to Evey and Deitrich; when questioned on how long he had been working with V, his answer had been that it was since Sutler came into power, which of course meant to them that he had been a little kid at the time (they didn't know that he hadn't been a little kid for centuries), yet he acted more like a teenager who had grown up in a normal home than one who had grown up underground with a man who always wore a mask. He spent a lot of the time at first flipping channels on the TV, but nothing good was on (the first time he saw Storm Saxon while there he had started to complain that it was a load of rubbish, saying "Give me a time-traveling blue box over this any day.").
He occupied himself with mulling over England's situation. Norsefire wouldn't execute him-he couldn't die-but Charlie wasn't about to leave him locked up. Of course, to keep them from figuring out his identity, he would probably have to wait until the fifth of November. It gave him quite a bit of time to plan, and the first thing he decided was that he wasn't going in alone. He needed backup-and more than fairies and ghosts. He knew just who he wanted to call.
And so, it became common for Evey and Deitrich to see him bent over a piece of paper, writing letters. He no longer had a cell or computer and landlines were more often than not tapped, so this was the safest method of communication. He never posted them because he had an even better postal service; the fairies. The letters confused the other two, because they couldn't see the fairies, but they never commented on the fact that he would write a letter and only put the name of a city on the envelope before he set it aside. When he finished, the whole stack would simply be gone when they next looked at where it had been. Every morning, there would be a new stack in that spot, each with the letter L on its envelope. He would carefully read through each one before crafting replies and having the whole process repeat itself.
They were able to notice that he always received one less letter than he sent out. It always seemed to trouble him; as he counted them each day, his face would fall at the number. When he wrote his replies, he would gaze for a moment at the letter that was simply addressed "Paris" before setting it on the stack. That letter was always written last.
One night, Deitrich took out a bottle of champagne, saying something about celebrating the best show he'd ever done. Charlie had been offered some, but had declined-he'd had alcohol before, and was just as bad as England when drunk. He opted instead to pet Flying Chocolate Bunny as the show came on. The absolute hilarity of the show had him in stitches-he even appreciated that he had shown up, balancing on a beach ball. Evey had been horrified, thinking of Norsefire's possible reaction, but Deitrich had brushed it off.
Later on, Charlie gazed out a window at the stars, not quite ready to go to bed. His plan was falling into place, and soon he would go back to the Shadow Gallery. Everyone he had contacted would be arriving soon. Well, almost everyone, he thought bitterly.
Hearing a step behind him, he wrenched himself from his thoughts and turned to see Deitrich. "Something troubling you?" the man asked.
Charlie shook his head. "Just thinking." Deitrich nodded and stepped forward to join him. For a few minutes they stood in silence. Charlie broke it by saying "That stunt with the show was rather brave and stupid, you know." Deitrich chuckled in response. "It reminded me of my stepfather and stepbrother." He continued fondly.
"Do you miss your family?" Deitrich asked.
"Terribly."
They lapsed into silence once more, the two of them studying the stars. Charlie thought back to happier times with his stepfamily. He remembered the first time he'd seen his stepbrother, in 1814, lying on a bed with burns on his torso (it took years for G.W. to forgive England for that incident), and all the time they had spent together over the years, along with Pierre and, later, Ingrid, Hans, and Galina. He wondered how things were with the other capitals…it had been ages since they'd had a Capital Meeting…
"It's the strangest thing," Deitrich said, interrupting his thoughts. He turned to face the boy. "I feel like I've known you for years, but we just met." Charlie glanced at him, noting the confusion written all over the man's face.
He turned away again. "You have known me for years." he said quietly.
"How?"
Charlie hesitated. He could just not answer, because Deitrich didn't have to know what he really was-he shouldn't know, really. But he had a feeling in his gut; as a capital, he sometimes instinctively knew vaguely what high government officials were planning, and he knew at that moment that someone at the top (most likely Sutler) really wasn't happy with Deitrich's television broadcast. Something was going to happen because of it, and it wasn't going to be good. With a jolt, Charlie remembered the secret room in the cellar (that he had by now seen the contents of) and realized that Deitrich didn't have long to live. And that there was nothing he could do about it-he knew with a sinking feeling that it was too late to flee. He made up his mind.
"You never met me personally before, but you know me." He began. He always liked to do it poetically; perhaps that had been inspired by being friends with Shakespeare. "You know me because you know the streets of this city; you know its buildings, and its rainy sky. I have two names; the first, which I use the most with people like you, is Charlie. The other one, which only a select few use…well, it's London." He paused and took a breath as Deitrich looked stunned and very confused. "It's hard to explain, but I represent the city-it's my city. My dad's name is England, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland if you want to be formal, my stepfather is named the United States of America, and my stepbrother is Washington D.C. You noticed my letters-I addressed them with city names. I've been writing to other capitals."
With that, Charlie fell silent, letting Deitrich process what he had just said. He could feel whatever was coming getting closer by the second.
"That's…amazing." Deitrich finally said. "Why haven't I heard of this before?"
"We like to keep it a secret for our own safety."
"Then why tell me now?"
Charlie bit his lip. "Because-" he was cut off by a pounding at the door. His eyes widened behind his mask. "Bloody hell, they're here already!"
Deitrich easily figured it out, and paled. "Oh, God, Fingermen." He whispered.
Swearing, Charlie gripped the hilt of his cutlass. "Gordon, go warn Evey." he said, although he knew it would be most likely useless.
"And what about you, London?"
"It's about time I headed back with V, anyway." Charlie replied. "Just go! I've been fighting for centuries."
Not looking entirely convinced, the man turned to go. "Gordon," Charlie called out, making him pause. "Good luck."
Deitrich nodded to him. "You too. It was an honor to meet you, London."
Charlie gave a sad sort of smile. "London's too formal. Call me Charlie."
Deitrich nodded again. "Goodbye, Charlie."
"Goodbye, Gordon."
It was the last time he would ever see the man alive. With a heavy heart, Charlie went downstairs to face the Fingermen as the sounds of them breaking the door down reached his ears.
It was probably very embarrassing for the Fingermen to be beaten that night by a masked teenage boy wielding a cutlass. It was definitely extremely embarrassing, though, to be beaten by a masked teenage boy wielding a cutlass while that boy is humming "God Save the Queen". He never missed a note.
Once he had fought his way outside, he turned around and gazed at the carnage; lots of dead or wounded Fingermen. Some had gotten past him, he knew-enough, unfortunately, to arrest Deitrich. Sutler's right-hand man Creedy had also slipped by. He would have loved to give that man a cut, since he had probably been the one to arrest England. Still, his victory was impressive.
Giving a smirk, he saluted the still conscious ones and said "Let you remember this as the day you…almost…caught L." before he ran off into the night, back to the Shadow Gallery. Back to V.
Bro,
I'll stop by tonight, let's say 11:30? Meet me at 221B. I'd like to play our favorite game.
The Hero's Son
Charlie looked bemusedly at the note. If his stepbrother was trying to speak in code, it was rather pathetic. The part about stopping by at 11:30 was painfully obvious, as was the address even though he didn't write the whole thing out. The only really cryptic part was the last sentence, because only the two of them knew about "I'll Just Sing My Version", and that it was signed "The Hero's Son", though that was obvious if you knew anything at all about the boy's father. Slipping the paper back into his pocket, he settled himself deeper into the shadows of the alley by 221B Baker Street, otherwise known as the Sherlock Holmes Museum. The others had chosen more random meeting places, such as a café or street corner. Only his stepbrother would choose a place like this.
He heard footsteps approaching, and someone whistling what sounded like "God Save the Queen", but Charlie knew that it was a different song with the same tune. He whistled the tune back, then waited as another blond teenage boy ducked into the alley. As the other boy's eyes adjusted, Charlie said "Hello, Git." from less than two feet away.
The boy jumped a foot in the air, and Charlie laughed. "Not funny, bro." the boy grumbled with an obvious American accent. Charlie cut off his laughter in order to get a good look at his stepbrother in the moonlight.
George Washington Jones-or G.W., as he preferred to be called-otherwise known as Washington D.C., hadn't changed much in the years since Charlie had last seen him. He still wore light-colored pants and an American flag T-shirt under an open button-up white shirt, and he still had sunglasses nestled in his wild, gravity-defying blond hair. The only difference Charlie could see was that the clothes looked a bit worse for wear, and the lack of excited light in his blue eyes. Or maybe not lack, because he could still see it, but it was definitely dimmer than it used to be. It was a little disconcerting.
Shaking the thoughts away, he said "Come on, Git. The others are waiting at the Shadow Gallery."
"Nice to see you again too." G.W. muttered before he followed Charlie. As they snuck through the city, he asked "So, who else is here already?"
"Ingrid and Hans got here first, and Galina followed them. The only one we're waiting on now that you're here is Sakura."
"Ingrid's here? Sweet! I haven't seen her since I went to stay with Uncle Matt."
"Who?"
"…I forgot. Jean-Claude's gonna kill me when I get back if he finds out. You'd think I'd remember him after I'd stayed with him so long…wait, did I even see him there?" He thought about it for a few minutes, until Charlie was afraid he'd hurt himself. Suddenly the American capital jolted next to him. "Wait, Charlie, you didn't say when Pierre got here. Didn't you contact him too?"
Charlie didn't look at his stepbrother. "He hasn't answered a single letter." he said softly. "I don't think he's coming." His voice trembled.
Suddenly, he found himself in a bear hug that was quite inescapable (G.W. was as strong as ever). "Don't worry about it, bro; I'm sure he's alright."
Charlie just stood in G.W.'s embrace for a moment before clutching him. "But what if he's not? Or what if he found someone else and doesn't want anything to do with me anymore?"
The hug tightened. "Charlie, listen to yourself! You'd think I was the older one here! Pierre would never do that. You guys have been together for centuries! Maybe he's just super busy, or maybe he just didn't get them. I don't know! Come on, this isn't the Charlie I met in 1814."
Charlie didn't answer, because he was slowly turning blue. "Um, Charlie?" G.W. said.
"Can't…breathe…"
"Sorry!" He was quickly released.
Charlie took deep breaths, regaining his color. "Still…don't know…your own strength, I…see…" he panted out. G.W. laughed nervously. Having gotten his breath back, Charlie straightened up. "Thanks, G.W. I needed that. But you can't call me Charlie right now. I'm going by L."
"Sakura's gonna freak when she gets here. You know that, right?"
"Makes it unbearable that she'll be here last."
"KYAH!"
The scream rang through the Shadow Gallery, and all the capitals staying in it recognized it at once; it came from Sakura Honda, personification of Tokyo. It usually meant one of two things; either Sakura had found something that delighted her inner fangirl (that was the type of scream she had uttered when she arrived, before she started babbling about Charlie's codename, as expected), or she was startled/scared about something. This scream sounded like the latter, and they rushed to where they had heard it come from.
Sakura, running away from whatever had freaked her out, literally ran into them, causing a capital dogpile. "There's a bald person in an orange potato sack!" she cried.
Disentangling himself from the pile, Charlie sighed. "That's Evey." he explained. "Don't you remember me telling you that V had her here, and was treating her like she had been arrested? He must have let her out today."
There was a collective "Oh," from the others as they got to their feet. Charlie sighed again. He had sent out for Moscow and East and West Berlin, whose human names were Galina Braginsky, Hans Beillschmidt, and Ingrid Beillschmidt respectively, as well as Washington D.C., Tokyo, and Paris-Pierre. He still hadn't heard from Paris. Still, he had a pretty good force on his hands, what with G.W.'s strength, Hans' tactical genius, Ingrid's fighting skills, Sakura's technology skills (and ninja/samurai skills) and Galina's sadistic streak (upon arrival, the Russian girl, whose dark blond hair reached mid-back, had proudly announced "Look! Papochka let me borrow his pipe!" before her violet eyes gazed into the distance, likely imagining all of the damage she could do with the faucet pipe). He watched as Galina pulled Hans up, the blue-eyed German boy brushing his silver-streaked blond hair out of his eyes before smiling at his girlfriend in thanks while G.W. did the same with Hans' twin Ingrid, who was his girlfriend. The pure blond girl with her own blue eyes nodded at him. Charlie helped Sakura up. The Japanese girl had chin-length black hair and lively brown eyes, and wore some sort of ninja garb she had brought from home. The others had copied Charlie's outfit, with the exception of Ingrid, who had seen no reason to abandon her black T-shirt, camouflage pants, and combat boots.
"That explains why V-san was walking in that direction," Sakura said thoughtfully.
"Hey, since V let her out, can I meet her bro?"
"That will probably have to wait." Charlie responded to G.W.'s question.
"Why?"
"Well, it's a bit funny. It seems that a lot of the time when V does something-"
Charlie's explanation was cut off by Evey's voice shouting "Shut up! I don't want to hear your lies!"
"…she gets really mad at him."
"She seems as bad as Frau Hungary when Onkel Prussia does something stupid." Ingrid commented as they all, by unspoken agreement, began walking in the opposite direction.
"Bloody hell, I never thought of that. Remind me never to give Evey a frying pan."
"Has anyone ever thought of taking away Mrs. Hungary's frying pans?" G.W. wondered out loud.
"Papochka told me they tried it at a World Meeting once." Galina responded. "She ended up stalking the men who were in relationships with other men with even more vigor than usual."
"I think Vati mentioned that," Hans added. "Nobody ever touched the pans again."
As it turned out, they were so busy that they didn't have a chance to formally meet Evey before she left the Shadow Gallery. It would have to come on another day.
The Shadow Gallery was having a quiet day, which didn't used to be a rare thing-it only became so after it became the living quarters of six capitals, one of whom was Washington D.C. In one of its rooms, Sakura sat bent over a laptop, her fingers flying over the keys and codes dancing across the screen. So intent was her focus that it was doubtful than anything could break it, not even a yaoi scene right in front of her. She muttered under her breath in Japanese, bending a little closer to the screen.
Suddenly, a message flashed on the screen, halting the movement of her fingers. She was frozen for the briefest of moments, hardly believing the message to be true. With a cry of elation, her fingers were back at work faster than before. Within a few minutes, she jumped up with another cry and began to run through the Shadow Gallery, shouting and effectively ending the quiet day.
"L-kun! L-kun!" She called. As she ran through most of the rooms and the blond that she was shouting for didn't make an appearance, she slowed to a stop with a huff. Honestly, you chase a boy with a costume a few times and he suddenly decides not to answer you when you call. Was it her fault that she wanted him to dress to match his name?
She did find G.W. assembling packages of Guy Fawkes masks (Charlie had said that the ghost had taken to haunting the Parliament buildings as the fifth got closer, and they just took his word for it) and V costumes to be shipped out to the city. "Hey, Sakura. Whatcha shouting about? Cosplay again?"
"Ie. It's about this." She showed G.W. the computer screen. The American's eyes widened. "Bro, you gotta come see this!" he shouted.
Charlie finally made an appearance. "What? If it's another costume I swear…" he trailed off as Sakura turned the screen to him. "…Seriously? Is this for real?"
"Hai. I got in. I told you I could."
"That means he's…"
"In the Tower of London."
Charlie laughed. "It's like they're just asking for me to stage a rescue. They must be too focused on V to care where they put him."
"Makes our job easier." G.W. said.
"Yes, it does." Charlie mused. He grinned. "Alright Git, get the other three. It's time to iron out our plan, now that we know where to raid." G.W. grinned and was off.
"I really think we should give them some privacy!"
"Bro, chillax. They'll never know we were here."
"They will know if you don't keep your voice down, Git!"
"Shhhh!" Sakura, Ingrid, Hans and Galina shushed the two stepbrothers before their bickering could draw the attention of Evey and V, who were speaking in the next room.
"Aw, he just said how worried he was. This is so kawaii."
"Even though it's not yaoi or yuri?"
"G.W., I do find non-yaoi and non-yuri couples cute."
"Just saying." They leaned closer as V said "A revolution without dancing is a revolution not worth having."
"Bro," G.W. said, looking a little worried, "Did Dad's revolution have dancing?"
Charlie gave him a seriously? look. "G.W., I'm sure that someone, somewhere in his land danced at some point during the revolution." G.W. looked immensely relieved. "Come on everyone, let's get our final preparations done."
Later, they trekked to V's traveling bomb-A.K.A. the subway car-and found Evey staring off down the tunnel.
"So he's gone already, then?" Charlie said, causing her to look sharply at them. "Well, I suppose we couldn't expect him to say goodbye."
"L!" Evey said. "You're not going with him?"
"No," Charlie replied. "We've got different motives, V and I. He was in this for his reasons…I'm in it for my Dad's sake."
Evey nodded slowly. "Is that where you're going now, with them?"
"Yes." Charlie said with a grin. "These are the people I was writing to at Gordon's house. That's my stepbrother, G.W.," the American flashed a megawatt grin "his girlfriend Ingrid and her brother Hans," the siblings nodded with a small smile on Hans' part "his girlfriend Galina," she smiled sweetly and said "Privet" "and you've already met Sakura, in a way."
"Sorry for screaming at you!" Sakura said with a bow.
Before Evey could say anything, Charlie said "Well, we need to get going, got a rescue mission to accomplish. See you later, Evey."
With that, they were off down the subway tunnels, G.W. cheering "Time to start Operation Rescue 00-Ninja!" (which was what he had decided to call it)
The rescue went off well. Sakura hacked into and disrupted the security mainframe, so they were quite a ways into the building before they were confronted. Of course the reason that they were confronted at that point was because G.W. started shouting about how easy it was.
"When the bloody hell will you learn to keep your mouth shut, Git?!" Charlie shouted as he sliced a guard with his cutlass.
G.W. punched a guard in the face, knocking him out cold. "Sorry bro!" Next to him, Ingrid was firing her pistol, following instructions given to her in whispers or hand signals from her brother, Galina was swinging Russia's pipe ("Now I know why Papochka likes doing this so much!") and Sakura dealt out kicks and launched throwing stars with deadly accuracy. Soon they had defeated all the guards. After interrogating one of the few conscious ones, they sprinted off to England's cell before more could show up.
Opening the door was a piece of cake, and they found England inside giving them an amused look. Charlie and G.W. rushed over to hug him.
"They didn't shave your hair?" Charlie asked, eyeing the locks that hadn't changed since the last time he saw him apart from being a bit dirty.
"They tried." England smirked.
"I don't get it," G.W. said "If you could give them enough trouble that they gave up on your hair, then why didn't you escape before now, or just keep from getting arrested in the first place?"
"It would have been more trouble than it was worth," England explained. "Besides, it's more embarrassing for Norsefire to lose a prisoner because a teenager broke him out." The three shared a laugh, joined by the ones outside.
"Almost the whole family's together again…" G.W. said with a hint of sadness. Charlie and England felt their spirits dampened by the absence of the fourth member of their family.
"Yes…" England said, sounding melancholy. "Well…come on, you lot. It makes no sense to break into prison if you're going to sit around in the cells, now does it?" Charlie and G.W. nodded and started for the door. Before they had made it halfway, though, Charlie was overcome by a wave of dizziness. He could hear the sounds of footsteps in water and desperate begging. A voice said "Disgusting", followed by a gunshot. A grin spread over Charlie's face as darkness crept up on him. His last thought before he passed out was It's about bloody time.
As awareness slowly returned, Charlie could sense that he was being carried on someone's back (likely G.W.'s). He couldn't really bring himself to care where they were at the moment…
The sound of fast footsteps approached, followed by "Oh God, is he…" Huh, that sounded like Evey…were they in the Shadow Gallery, or by the subway car? Nope, still didn't care. His limbs felt like lead and Evey's unfinished question had been the only clear thing he heard through his mind fog. He really hated assassinations, for more than one reason.
He could feel himself being lowered to the floor-probably the car then, if it was the Shadow Gallery then it would have been the couch-and could vaguely make out the other's voices. He thought he heard someone say he would be out for a few hours…
Nope. Waking up now. Wait, why am I waking up so soon? It shouldn't have taken very long to get here…you know what, I don't really care about that either. He was always rather apathetic after an assassination…
G.W. shouted something unintelligible (to him, anyway) and Charlie picked up the sound of running. What piqued his interest, though, was the slower footsteps that he could swear were getting closer.
"You're wrong, G.W. Charlie shouldn't be out long-in fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he's coming out of it now." a familiar voice said next to him. Who is that? He heard movement and assumed that whoever they were had knelt.
"Time to wake up, Charlie." No thanks. I think I'd like to stay here a while. The person sighed. Then Charlie heard something he decided he really did care about.
"Frère Jacques, frère Jacques, dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? Sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines, ding ding dong. Ding ding dong."
With great effort, Charlie opened his eyes, vision blurred. He blinked, and an image slowly swam into focus…short, wavy blond hair…a gentle, loving smile…blue eyes he hadn't seen in years…
"Pierre!" Brushing off all remaining dizziness and apathy, Charlie leapt into a sitting position and embraced his boyfriend, nearly knocking him over. Laughing and crying, he hugged Pierre as tight as he could as the French boy returned the gesture and kissed his ears, his hair, his face…
"P-Pierre…w-why didn't you answer my l-letters…I-I thought…" Pierre kissed the sobbing Brit on the lips, silencing him. "Je suis désolé, mon Londres. After I read the first one, I had a wonderful idea, and left without thinking about responding." He pulled away slightly and gestured behind Charlie. Turning, he saw a familiar blond lifting his father off the ground with a bear hug, G.W. clinging to him from behind. "America?!"
"Oui. It was very hard to find him, and even harder to get him here." Pierre grinned. "But I thought mon Londres deserved to have his family together again."
Charlie let his head drop onto Pierre's shoulder. All of the problems caused by Norsefire were evaporating…separation from Pierre and his dad…not being able to see his stepfamily (though Norsefire's homophobia had less to do with it than the war America was going through)…everything. He breathed in Pierre's scent and oh God, he loved this Frog so much…
"Je t'aime aussi, mon Londres." Pierre said, alerting Charlie to the fact that he'd said that last part out loud. The French boy shifted, lifting his hands up to Charlie's face. "Cette masque…ça ne me plait pas. Je ne peux pas voir tes yeux."
With a smile, Charlie reached up and the two of them removed the mask. When it was off, Pierre nodded in approval.
The firelight danced across Charlie's unmasked face as wood was added to the bonfire. They had had to put off celebration once they saw that V was dead. It was saddening, but not entirely unexpected. It had been Evey's idea to place him in the subway car and arrange Scarlet Carsons around his body. They then left the launch of the explosives to Evey and returned to the surface. There they had picked up some costumes and melded into the masked crowd in front of the Parliament buildings, standing in anticipation as the 1812 Overture played and removing their masks as the building blew sky high. As he thought back on it he gingerly touched the small burn on his chest, about the size of his palm. He had survived.
Not long afterwards he'd run into Guy. The ghost's face was so peaceful that Charlie had no doubt that he'd moved on shortly after they'd parted. He couldn't honestly say that if he'd known that that was all it would take, he would have done it sooner.
G.W. and America joined the group around the bonfire. "Check out what we made!" G.W. said, grinning. The two showed off straw dummies that had pictures of Sutler and Creedy pinned to their faces. Charlie thought it was absolutely brilliant.
Once the dummies had been thrown onto the fire, G.W. turned to Charlie. "Hey bro, how come you weren't out for that long after Sutler was killed? We thought it'd take a couple hours!"
Charlie had been thinking about that too. "Didn't you see how many people showed up tonight? And Sutler made a public announcement on the telly that I believe no one was watching. He no longer had any real power in the eyes of the people, so while his death still affected me, it wasn't as bad as any others. I think the same thing happened to Pierre when Louis XVI was beheaded."
"Hey everyone!" America boomed, drawing attention to him. "I think it's time we honored the hero, who we all know is…"
Here he goes again, he's going to say it's-
"CHARLIE!"
…Wait what? The others let up a cheer and Charlie found himself on G.W.'s shoulders. When he was let down he shared a passionate kiss with Pierre and a silent vow with all of them that they would be sure to remember this particular Fifth of November.
Finally done! This sat on a flash drive for so long…and I wanted so badly to post it on the Fifth, but it wasn't finished! So here it is, two days late.
Yeah, Guy just sort of lost importance in this, I couldn't help it. And my understanding of the Fifth in England is that they build bonfires and often burn effigies of Guy Fawkes. I have no idea what they're made of, but I assumed it was straw.
Yes I ship USUK. Deal with it.
I hope you all enjoyed this fic, please read and review, and always:
Remember, remember, the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot.
I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever…be…forgot.
Translations:
Papochka: Dad
Onkel: Uncle
Frau: Mrs.
Vati: Dad
Ie: No (not sure on spelling…)
Hai: Yes
Kawaii: Cute
Privet: Hello
Frère Jacques, frère Jacques, dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? Sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines, ding ding dong. Ding ding dong: Basically, it's a song. The English version goes "Are you sleeping, are you sleeping, brother John? Brother John? Morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing, ding ding dong, ding ding dong."
Je suis désolé, mon Londres: I'm sorry, my London.
Je t'aime aussi, mon Londres: I love you too, my London.
Cette masque…ça ne me plait pas. Je ne peux pas voir tes yeux: This mask…I don't like it (literally "It doesn't please me"). I can't see your eyes.