Story Intro:
Hey, welcome to my fic and thanks for readin'. I know this idea isn't terribly original, but I do hope you can enjoy my execution of it. I don't actually have a lot to say in the introduction for once. The first chapter (yep, multi-chapter fic here) starts off a bit angsty and slow, but things will hopefully pick up soon enough. So yes again, I hope you enjoy.
The night air shrouded the large resort, blanketing it in a veil of somber quiet. Stars twinkled overhead, tiny observers to the rather glum world below. Where normally there would be noise and activity, the hotel complex was mute. World Conferences were anything but parties… but typically there was something going on. As serious as their tasks and their reasons for their existence were, the Nations were certainly not immune to participating in some shenanigans. Even a Nation needed to have some fun, let off some steam when the stress and strain of world events threatened to crush their shoulders.
Lately though, it seemed as if that strain had triumphed. Lately the Nations had found little reason to celebrate, play, or even smile. For certain there were global issues painting the world dark… tense diplomatic relations, economic strife, natural disasters… but that wasn't what had finally seemed to cast the Nations into depression. From his seat in the rather empty courtyard, America let out a long sigh into the night air.
His eyes were trained to the stars, staring at them with an almost desperate longing. Texas had been removed, as if somehow he could see up into space better without his glasses on. They dangled in his hand, seemingly carelessly, but of course America would never let any accidental harm come to the eyepieces. No, for all he seemed the forlorn figure, collapsed back and draped over a bench, he wasn't so far gone that his fingers would slip. He swallowed thickly, blue eyes never leaving the inky black night dotted with shimmering jewels.
"I thought I might find you out here," the voice didn't cause America to turn his head, nor did it prompt any sort of response even if he knew the source of the voice would only become aggravated by his lack of response. He heard the footsteps move across the brick courtyard, each step seeming to echo in this very silent night. His visitor came to stop behind the bench, standing right next to America and looking down at the head that was hanging so far over the back of the bench that it almost seemed like he should be staring behind him.
England's green eyes appraised him coolly, and if there was any of the worry the older Nation would have shown America as a child in that gaze, England was doing a wonderful job of hiding it. That or America was simply missing it, which was entirely likely. The blond with the bushy brows didn't come around the bench to sit, simply crossing his arms across his chest and staring down at his former colony.
"You promised to bring me a copy of your economic stimulus plan… I'm certainly not about to let you present it tomorrow without crossing out anything that's absolute rubbish." The man scoffed, uncaring for now that America still hadn't acknowledged him. "As if that will leave anything for you to present of course. Honestly your ideas get worse and worse… I sometimes wonder if you go out of your way to find terrible ideas." England shook his head, as if apparently amused with his own train of thought, before trying to catch America's gaze.
The younger Nation stared right past him, up at the stars and the stars alone. The forlorn look hadn't moved from his face, and England sighed, turning his own eyes skyward. He left things in silence, and America was content to let him. The two peered up into the darkened heavens together, each thinking thoughts that were miles away from each other yet woven together. America began to chew on his lip, brows furrowing as the longing he felt inside seemed to claw and dig deeper into his chest.
As the silence continued to stretch, England let his eyes flick down to America for only a moment. It was such a rare event to find a quiet America, even with the depression that was sitting upon the Nations. As much as England wanted to revel in it, wanted to bask in the opportunity to be next to the American without his ears being assaulted by idiotic words and a constant butchery of his language… something inside urged him to speak.
"It… things will get better again…" England began, his voice soft and kind instead of gruff and clipped. He let his gaze slide to the right, taking in one of the hotel rooms facing the courtyard, staring at the dark drawn curtains that hid the occupant from sight. "I know you haven't lived through such events but… I assure you… the world will carry on… we'll find a way to sort things through… and we'll… we'll all…"
The older Nation trailed off, tongue tied and frustrated for a moment. He'd never been the sort who was good at pep talks like this… and honestly he didn't know why he was even trying. It wasn't as though it seemed America was even listening, the ungrateful brat. Still… perhaps these words were for his own sake, not his idiotic former charge's. "We'll get past this… we'll move on."
America finally seemed to rouse to attention, looking to the same room that England was, as if he could see inside to the occupant. Would he be awake still? Perhaps he was drinking inside, alone and suffering? Or maybe he would be the exact same way he'd been in the conference, a silent stoic suffering wall… a wall of so many cracks and fissures it made people afraid to even breathe too hard around him.
Still… what could really be expected? The Nation had lost two of the most important figures in his life… America couldn't even imagine how that would feel. "I always figured it'd be Romano… ya know?" His voice felt distant to him, as if it wasn't even his own. When did his voice start sounding so hollow? He finally met England's gaze as they both averted their eyes from Germany's hotel room. He gave a rather wan smile up at his former guardian. "It just seemed a no brainer… if there was ever gonna just be one Italy… well… it'd be Veneziano who stayed… not the other way around."
England nodded his head, not of the mind to actually verbally agree with anything America said, even in this situation. "I do worry about whether or not he's up for the job… Italy Veneziano may not have been the most… ah…" He reached for a polite turn of phrase, not wishing to speak ill of the departed. Giving up, he changed his statement slightly. "Well, guiding both the North and South of Italy will actually be quite a challenge, and though he's been doing his best so far I worry that Romano does not sufficiently understand the…"
The green eyed Nation trailed off, noticing that America's gaze had returned to the stars again, the younger Nation tuning him out in favor of his own thoughts. England scowled, cursing the self centered git mentally. Why bring up a topic if you weren't even interested in a proper discussion of it?
"I didn't think Prussia would have ever gone away either… he was like a roach or something… just wouldn't die…" America muttered, reaching a hand skyward. England stared at that hand, watched it as the fingers curled and flexed, stretching out as if trying to reach out and grab the very stars. Long had America been obsessed with the stars and outer space… yet tonight England could all but feel the utter sorrow and heartbreak the younger Nation was feeling… the emotions curling somehow around the celestial bodies in a way he couldn't rightly understand.
All he did know was that seeing America stare so wistfully at the sky… to watch him reach… part of England began to ache as well. Though he knew full well America wasn't his responsibility anymore, though he knew painfully well that there should be no lingering obligations between the two of them after the Revolution and Independence… it couldn't stop that old feeling from finding its way up. In that moment, if England could have reached out and given America the stars, he would have.
"I would have been great, ya know?" America's words caused England to jump, and when he turned his blue eyes to the other man, he gave a small chuckle at the flustered expression the other wore. Perhaps in the past he would have teased him on it, but there was so much else America felt he needed to say. "I know without a doubt that I would have done an awesome job… I would have been the best big brother ever! I mean, I learned from the best, right?"
The words and the lopsided grin tossed his way caused England to flounder for a moment, his mind and emotions suddenly thrown into a twisted jumble. For a moment, part of him had suddenly warmed, pleased and flattered by America's praise. Rarely did they actually speak of their fallen status as brothers, and even rarer was it that those talks were civil and positive. To hear America actually say that England had been a good brother touched him deeply.
All the same, England couldn't deny or fight the sudden annoyance, anger, and indignation that bubbled up hot in his chest, turning what had been a flustered blush into a red faced scowl. Hearing such praise from America's lips was almost just as insulting as it was touching. The best indeed… he'd done such a wonderful job they'd come to war. He'd done such a wonderful job America had taken to violence to get away from him. He'd done a magnificent job raising a blundering fool who mistakenly thought he could save the world and solve everyone's problems for them.
Yes yes, just grand! Well done there. Shaking his head, England fixed a cool glare at the younger Nation.
"In case you've forgotten," he said with a scathing tone, quiet as his voice was. As much as he wanted to just lay into the American for the statement, he knew it wasn't the best idea to cause a ruckus out in the courtyard, not with all the other Nations dealing with the all too recent disappearances of North Italy and Prussia. "You already are a big brother you bloody wanker… spectacular job you're doing at it if you've forgotten!" He didn't need to go admitting that he'd barely remembered that fact himself. America didn't need to know that.
America's brows furrowed, deep annoyance creasing between his eyes. He hadn't forgotten his brother… uh… Canada! He remembered him of course! England was just being thick here (quite the ironic statement coming from the American). "That's not what I meant… that doesn't count!"
England threw up his hands, shaking his head. No, he certainly wasn't interested in hearing America's woes. He'd come out here to get documents… to possibly attempt to cheer the other Nation up or at the very least find some distraction in some light nonsensical bickering… not listen to endless idiocy over a topic that was always a bit raw. "I don't want to hear it; I'm going back to my room. No need to bother with the draft of the plan… I'll hear it with everyone else tomorrow."
America opened his mouth to speak before giving up, letting his head hang back and eyes return to the stars dismally. He didn't see England pause in his walk away, didn't see the older Nation fight off the urge to tell America to try to get some rest, that it might make him feel better and clear his head. America missed such concern as usual, wrapped up in the view of only what he wanted to see.
Alone again, his thoughts continued to travel in the same worn path they'd been doing since Prussia had disappeared last year. It'd been a bit of a shock to the rest of the Nations for certain, though something they'd all perhaps suspected should have happened long ago. Despite the supposedly strained relations between the ex-Nation and his younger brother, Germany had been hit by the loss pretty hard. He'd continued on with his duties as all had expected, but everyone could tell. Even America. Those ice blue eyes had become just a bit colder, just a bit duller.
Then… just seven months ago… North Italy had suddenly disappeared. It caused much more alarm amongst the Nations, for Italy wasn't an ex-Nation like Prussia. There'd been no reason most could see for the disappearance of a healthy national personification. Much searching had been conducted, trying to find the flighty and whimsical Italy Veneziano. When search after search came up empty, the Nations had been forced to conclude he was gone… forced to declare Italy Romano as Italy instead… the title of South and Romano no longer needed. One representative… one Italy… none could see why it had happened… but it had.
It was like twisting a knife in the already open emotional wound on the German. The little Italian had been doing so much to keep Germany's spirits up after the loss of his elder brother… and now that little bundle of cheer was gone from Germany's grasp as well. It wounded the blond deeply; the blond who'd resisted their friendship so tenaciously before giving in and falling into mutual affection completely. It was a bitter reward for opening up, for lightening up. It seemed to all but kill off any humor or happiness the German man had.
As for Romano… for Italy? If the Italian had been ill tempered and difficult to deal with before, no one wanted to deal with him now. No one save Spain, who managed as always to let Italy's insults and anger slide right off of him. More than anyone Spain had stepped up to help Italy become a singular representative, helping him take the reins of responsibility in full. It was amusing to see the seemingly carefree and cheerful Spain take on such a serious and important task… yet it only made sense. Who else would be a suitable (and willing) mentor but Italy's former boss?
The world was changing… supposedly redundant and unnecessary Nations were apparently being stripped away from the world… and it'd brought on an old ache inside of America. It was difficult in so many ways to be such a young Nation. On the whole, America reveled in it, thrived in it, and used his youthful vigor and idealism to the full extent. However… there were some things that he knew he would always hate about it. No matter how much his people and country was criticized for forcefully spreading their culture and political views on others… America had missed out on the age of exploration.
There was no 'New World' for him to explore… no vast expanses left for him to wander and roam and taste. He'd explored the entire breadth and width of his own lands… and now was left only wandering lands that'd belonged to others for longer than he'd existed. There was nothing new on Earth for him to find… no little brother for him to adopt and tend to.
Foolish as the feeling was… as much as he knew others would ridicule him for it… America desperately wished for a little brother. He wanted someone small and innocent… someone who wouldn't look upon him with accusing eyes… someone who could see him without bias again… someone he could raise and protect and be a hero to. He envied the elder Nations so much. He envied their age old memories… something he didn't have. He envied their ability to persist for so very long, to adapt yet remain true to themselves.
Even though he was a shining example of what could happen when raising a young Nation… even though he was the poster child for turning against your guardian… America wanted it. His Revolution had been a good thing… something to be proud of… and though he doubted England would ever feel the same… he wished his former guardian could understand that. His independence was something that England should be proud of as well! It had to happen… and if America had ever had the chance to raise a little brother of his own… he would have waited for the day he was abandoned as well.
Letting out a small chuckle, he could all but hear England's angry retort over such a sentiment in his mind. 'I hope you do find a child… I hope it DOES turn on you… feel that and tell me how wonderful it was for you.' The 'I told you so' would be so loud in his voice, America just knew it.
Still… the possibility didn't lessen America's desire in the slightest. He wanted a little brother. He wanted a New World to explore. He wanted… he wanted…
"What does it matter…" he muttered, hand reaching for the stars again. "There's nowhere else here… the Earth is full… too full… my only hope… lies up there…" Space… the 'final frontier' to borrow the words of one of his favorite TV shows. It was the only place remaining where he might be able to find what he was craving… and yet as Tony was a prime example of… even space may have grown up without him already.
"Nations are losing brothers… and here I am pining for one… what a world… what a world…" Dropping his arm, America gave up. He shoved Texas back onto his face and stood up, shoving his hands deeply into the pockets of his bomber jacket. The cold night wind rushed across his face, neither soothing nor enlightening. There was no answer to his problem, no easy solution for him to grab up. He could only hope to ignore it until it faded. Lord knew there were plenty of problems in the world for a hero like him to tackle in the meantime.
Eyes trained skyward as he walked, America was even less aware of his surroundings than normal. Brooding and angsting were never acts that the typically optimistic and oblivious young Nation did well, and when he did fall into such depressions it usually used up a considerable amount of his thoughts and attention. It left him even blinder to the world around him… blind to the men who'd been watching him and waiting. Blind to the men who'd patiently observed him until he started to walk right towards their trap.
The damp cloth that suddenly covered his nose and the pricking of the syringe startled America to alertness for just a moment before his senses started to swim and the world began to fade. Hitting the ground, America's eyes stared less at the men who moved to cart him away, and more up at those far off intangible stars. They hadn't even given him a chance to struggle before he blacked out… smart.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
They were watching. Those stupid cameras were on him, he knew they were, but he didn't care. He'd stopped caring about privacy after the first couple of weeks. Hell, he wasn't a shy guy. The surveillance was annoying but nothing that really mattered to him much. They could point a thousand cameras at him, hidden or no, and all he'd do is give them a show to remember.
Nah, the cameras didn't bother him, but the red eyes that were no doubt watching him through the one way mirror did. He wanted nothing more than to get his hands on the neck of that red eyed little freak and strangle the life right out of him. Hey, while red eyes were fantastic on his awesome self, the sight of them on that little bastard was sickening. If Prussia ever got the chance he might just tear 'em right out.
Unfortunately, it was all he could do to move at all, his body too weak and fatigued to put up much of a fight against the restraints that kept him bound to the cold metal table. Bright artificial lights illuminated his body, the mirror on the wall giving him a few view of the splendor of his awesomely naked self. Only… it was marginally less awesome than it'd been a year ago. He'd lost weight… his face drawn gaunt and his skin pale and thin looking. Tubes and monitors were stuck into and onto him, a technological spider web that stole his life fluids and reported his status to the assholes who'd caught him a year ago.
To even think that they could use the awesome him as a fucking guinea pig was absurd… and any day now Prussia was going to get loose and show those morons what happened when you took on a Nation, ex or no. Prussia had waged wars… he braved and conquered battlefields! He wasn't going to let some glasses wearing pocket protector clad nerds best him! It'd be like losing a fist fight to Austria… but ten times worse.
He struggled his arms against the restraints again, letting out a growl before a laugh escaped his lips. "Not today… I've decided I don't feel like escaping today… which I absolutely could if I felt like it." The corner of his lip twitched as he laughed, eyes averted to the side. Yeah… he could escape any time he wanted to. He was just waiting for the right moment…
A shallow ghastly wheezing breath caught his attention, and Prussia turned his gaze to the other table in the room. North Italy was strapped to a table, naked and in much the same state as Prussia. There were a few more tubes running to and from the Italian, and a set of precision scars on the Nation's body that made Prussia see red each time he caught a glimpse of them. The Italian looked more like a corpse than a living body, the beeping of the monitors and the Nation's painful wheezing the only obvious signs of life.
"Hey… hey Italy… can you hear me? Wake up, the awesome me is calling for you!" If you wanted to say the bastards who'd captured him had done horrible things to Prussia, then you'd have to say they'd done downright nightmarish atrocities to Veneziano. Their experiment… their fucking experiment… they'd used Veneziano so much more than Prussia. Why not… they actually had a current Nation to use in the form of North Italy… not just a personified has-been.
Still… just as it'd been for the past three months, Veneziano didn't stir, not even slightly. The tests, the harvests… the extractions… they'd sent North Italy into silence, a painful sleep he hadn't woken from at all. Prussia wanted to growl at it all, seeing the adorable Italy suffering and weak like this. Sure he let West hog Italy most of the time… but Prussia held a high level of affection for the auburn haired pasta lover too. Not that he'd admit to such sissy sentiments. "I'll get us out of here Italy… just you wait…" His voice grew louder, shouting out for the benefit of the microphones he knew were hidden in the lab room.
"You hear that assholes? I'm gonna get us out, then I'm going to tear you all apart kesesesese!" Letting his laughter fill the tiny room, Prussia held tightly onto his words, clung tightly to his vow. He'd do it… he'd do it… he just needed to find the strength somehow.
Author's Note:
So… ugh… I wonder if people will like this, or if that giant depress fest turned everyone off with boredom. As much as I like to give America a side that's not 'super happy-go-lucky I can do anything because I'm the hero', it always feels so OOC. In fact, everyone felt that way to me. Curses. I feel like I usually do better.
Anyhow… reviews for this would be lovely. I know that perhaps there's not a lot to work off of… but I'd love to know if people want this to continue. Oh I'll keep posting up chapters regardless… but the feedback would be snazzy.
Next chapter our villains make a formal appearance, and the heart of the story is revealed.
Well, if you got this far… thanks for the read!