A/N: Yeah…I suck…I'll just leave it at that…BUT…though I did take forever to post this at least I think—I think—it's better them my last chapter. I hated my last chapter, just felt so incredibly rushed to me.
So….please enjoy!
"Are you crying?" An astonished England asked the American who sat next to him at the large dining table. It was a fine crafted, sturdy table, long enough to seat many people and there was a great amount of people currently present. Covering the beautiful mahogany wood was a clean white table cloth that nicely complimented the golden colored candleholders in the center. Lastly, the table was filled with a large number of plates, one for each guest. They all held the night's dinner in a creative, culinary masterpiece, which due to their being English in nature seemed not too appealing to the American.
"No." America answered with a mousey squeak, despite his insufferable sniffling, his weepy looking eyes, and mawkish pout.
"It's just food, Alfred. Eat it." England said firmly, only pushing around the food on his own plate. It wasn't that he disliked the meal; this was a fine British cuisine. Any person would appreciate its exquisite taste. He just happened to be slowly losing his appetite as the night progressed.
"You know the food isn't the reason why I'm crying," Said the blue-eyed blonde as he continued his pout. "Even though I'm not." He quickly added, because he wasn't. Really, he wasn't. Maybe he was a little teary but he had nothing trembling down his face, thus did not count as crying.
England sighed, "I know." He didn't bother to argue, he knew full well the cause of the American's dreariness and it was indeed not the food.
"Are you crying?" America asked, glancing over to take a good look at the Englishman. Besides the normal crease of his brow and the slight twinge of irritation of knowing that he was being observed, he looked generally normal. This only made America's frown deepen, he was expecting a much more emotional display, if you will.
"Of course not." England replied, never taking his eyes off the brussel sprouts he was shoving into a little pyramid on the side of his plate. America looked on worriedly; playing with your food was one of England's major no-noes.
"You can cry if you want to." America told him reassuringly, as if relaying this fact would instantly create a flood of waterworks. That did not happen of course. Instead, England simply sighed as his tower of little cabbages came crashing down.
"That won't be necessary." England finally responded after a short pause as he restarted his construction project.
"Because...It's okay if you do." America stuttered out, placing a comforting hand on the Brits shoulder, only to have it shrugged away. America sighed at England's passive aggressive way of saying to leave him alone. He knew that the Brit was holding in how he really felt, pretending he was fine. England has always had an inability to express his feelings, his mood being a constant rollercoaster of emotions. He also never wanted to appear weak; he had too much pride for that.
America became accustomed to England's see-sawing after the many years of knowing the Brit. He knew that just like some of his southern states, if he didn't like the weather all he had to do was wait five minutes, even if it did get irritating at times. However, America having no skills when it came to reading the mood still left it difficult to determine what England was feeling. Luckily, it was easy in this case. He knew exactly how and why he was feeling the way he was. Now, the only problem was that America also lacked skills when it came to comforting another. Sure, he could be joyous, make others laugh, cheer people up with his awesomeness (Others would say annoying banter), yet when it came down to truly giving another a few comforting words, he failed.
"Really…" America said, once again placing his hand on England's shoulder. He was relieved when it wasn't shrugged off. "You can just let it all out. Cry until you're—you know—all gross looking." He smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood. It quickly deteriorated when England sharply turned to finally face him, England's scowl ever present as he held a look of disbelief.
England knew America wasn't the best at giving pep talks. Hell, England knew he wasn't good at giving any. His idea of an encouraging chat was to become a stuttering mess as he patted the other's back and let out words like 'There there'. Yet, he tried to steer clear of insulting the other person, unless the other person happened to be France. Then it just became a regular part of the healing process. "I'm fine," He said sternly, swatting the hand off of him. "I don't need your terrible attempt at being wise." England scoffed.
"Well, I wasn't really trying to be wise." America said giving a lopsided smile and a hesitant laugh that slowly decreased in volume until its awkward end. England looked on with his eyes half-lit with obvious boredom and shook his head.
"Of Course." He muttered, returning his sights back onto his meal. This time instead of creating a work of constructed art he let his utensil stab through the contents before taking a bite. He grimaced at the taste of his now cold food but, he continued to chew and swallow anyhow. He was not about to spit his food out.
"Aw, come on, Arthur." America gave a friendly shake of the shoulder. England eyed the hand on him with great intensity. Hoping that if he stared hard enough it would somehow catch on fire or possibly fall off, that would be interesting. "It'll make you feel better."
"I feel fine." He gritted through his teeth. "If anything is making me feel bad, it's your constant blabbering." He said, once again removing himself from the American's touch. "So, if you could kindly shut your mouth." He lowered his voice. "You are surrounded by very important people." He said glancing around at all the influential people that filled the large dining room, including his monarch.
"But—"
"Alfred!" England said to him in a whispered yell that promptly quieted the younger nation.
"Alright, alright." America lifted his hands up in front of himself in defense. "I'll just leave you alone." He said and returned to his own plate. He glared at his food as he poked around it with his fork, trying to figure out what exactly it was. He knew he should have snuck in some of his own food.
Meanwhile, England released a breath of relief. He no longer had to be badgered by the exasperating America, who did not know when it was time to stop. He could finally enjoy the rest of his meal in the silence he had hoped for, even if it was now cold and thus, not very appetizing. It didn't change the fact that he now realized that he really was hungry. His stomach was asking for the food that his brain had been ignoring throughout the day. Ready to comply to his stomach's needs, he lifted a neat portion onto his silverware, ready to take a bite.
"The food is still disgusting though."
"Oh, for heaven's sakes!" England shouted while tossing his silverware down, causing a clatter of noise once it made contact with his porcelain dinner plate. His breathing was coarse, his face burning, and his eye stung. He blinked several times as he stared at the fork he had thrown, refusing to lift his head. The room had become eerily silent. He knew full well that his little outburst had gained him much unwanted attention. After what seemed like hours, England tilted his head just enough to see America looking back at him. America stayed stunned, his eyes wide as he continued to hold his own fork in mid-air. He hadn't expected that outcome. After another long moment or what seemed like one, England shifted forward once more, bowed his head even lower, and excused himself softly.
America followed England with his eyes as he made his way out of the elaborate room. He walked at a brisk pace but not daring to go any faster or slower, knowing that either of those would only cause more attention to be drawn to him. When he reached the doors he hesitated, his hand gripping the handle for several seconds before pulling it open and taking a step out.
America, who had watched the display until the very end turned back to face the remaining guests. He was surprised to see them all returning his glaze. America was not one to get easily embarrassed but there was something about having all those eyes on him that made him a bit self-conscious. America chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced around the room. His eyes locked on to the gentlemen sitting in front of him simply because he happened to be in front of him. He looked familiar, he had probably have seen him at some other political event. "Well—uh—"he started with another nervous laugh. "How about I just um—"he pointed to the doors that England just made his way out of. "I'll be right back." He finished quickly, getting off his seat and made his way through the doors at the same pace as the nation before him.
/
"Arthur!" America yelled out, causing an echo to fill the empty hallway. Even though he had rushed out of the dinner party, by the time he made it out the door, England was nowhere in sight. America was having a hard time finding the Brit. He had been in the building before, for a couple of other occasions but, never enough to learn its layout. Even if he did, he still wouldn't know which of the many rooms the distraught Englishman would go to.
America sighed as he dragged his feet. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't know how to get back. He really hoped to find England soon; otherwise he could be stuck in here forever. Just as he opened his mouth to release another call he noticed a door at the end of the hall that was slight ajar. This had been the first door he had encountered to be at least slightly open so with a light smile he went over to the room, hoping to see what he was looking for.
"Wow." America said as he stepped into the spacious room. The room was classically arranged and mostly white, from the walls to the ceiling to the furniture. The splashes of color came from the decorative curtains, carpet, and the many landscape paintings on the wall. "This is—" America said nodding as he observed his surroundings until movement caught his eye. There, at the very left corner of the room, next to a large window with open curtains stood a bushy browed Englishman. "Beautiful." He finished, making his way to the other nation.
England stood with his arms crossed and turned away from the American coming towards him. He knew he was there, he heard him shouting down the hall. He was never the quiet one, always making a ruckus. No, instead he stared out at the large window. The stars were out now. "Artie?" England heard him say as he came up beside him.
"Are you okay?" America asked, keeping his voice low. He feared that anything louder would only scare the Brit away. Luckily, England didn't hadn't made any attempt to move or to shout at him.
America inched closer, trying to see if he could read the Brit's face but the angle in which he was in made it difficult. All America was able to make out was how vibrant England appeared with the light of the almost full moon shining off him like a spotlight. America fidgeted awkwardly as he looked at England, looking out the window. He didn't know if he should say anything or wait for when the other was ready. After some consideration he figured that keeping his mouth shut like he had been instructed, to be the best option.
After a few more silent seconds, England sighed and shifted his glaze away from the window. America was initially caught by surprise with England's sudden movements. They were standing still for a considerable amount of time. His surprise turned to sympathy right after, when he noticed a string of tears falling from England's slightly reddened face. "Aww, Artie. Don't cry." He said, using the back of his index finger to gently wipe away a rolling droplet.
"I strictly remember you telling me that I could." England sniffled, quickly removing any of the remaining water.
"Oh, yeah." Alfred replied absentmindedly.
England released a short curt laugh. "You really are terrible at this."
"Yeah, I know." America chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck. "But it really is okay to be sad, Arthur." He said, England replying with a simple hum. "At least you'll still get to see him. It's not like he's—you still get to see him around." He continued, stumbling with his words, England nodding along.
"Yes." England agreed. "I do feel quite foolish however. I should know better than to get this attached." He said facing the window once more.
"It's not necessarily a bad thing." America said, placing a comforting hand upon England's shoulder, confident that he would not get shrugged off this time around.
"And it's not good either." England sighed. "Elizabeth, Victoria. It's as if I didn't learn anything from those times." England continued, leaving America with a rather confused expression.
"Um, Arthur." America called, poking England on the arm several times. "Queen Elizabeth is still here." He whispered, his attempted to let England down gently about the grave mistake he had just made about his own royalty.
"Not this one, you dolt." England couldn't help but to roll his eyes. "The one that was married to me." He smirked to himself, looking at America's expression through his peripheral vision.
"Oh, okay." America nodded. "Wait, what?" England chuckled at his reaction, again turning to face him.
"Don't worry about it, love." He sighed. Nations did often get attached and he was indeed grateful for having more time with them then some others do, but he honestly should know better. Nation's shouldn't get so invested in their relationships with their bosses, for they were merely human. It was only a matter of time until they were gone. He knew this and often followed his own rules. Yet, at times there were certain people he just could not distance himself from, despite the pain it caused. The pain he knew it caused, he had lived it and witnessed it with others such as, Prussia and Fritz.
England didn't know why he was so upset about this. It wasn't as he would never see him again. England was just used to always having him around, that was all, or he'd like to tell himself. It also pained him to know that his influential and strong-willed leader was falling ill.
"Well, let's get back to the festivities, shall we?" England proclaimed, his voice booming throughout the otherwise silent room.
"Really?" America asked. "Are you alright now?" England shrugged.
"Whether I am or not, I know he would rather have me out there than in here." He replied making his way to the door, America nodding in agreement as he followed behind. England was right. His boss would want him out there, joining in on the fun. If there wasn't an official dinner going on, America wouldn't have been surprised if his boss decided to drag England to a nearby pub for a couple of drinks. America smiled at the thought. It was easy to imagine the older politician and nation reminiscing about the good old days. Then there was the hilarious thought of England going through his drunk phases of being ecstatic to a sobbing mess next to his now former boss.
America was entranced within his own imagination when a gasp from his companion swept him back into reality. Looking up from the floor he'd been facing, America noticed England standing shockingly still as his hand held onto the doorknob. Shifting slightly to better peer through the open door, he saw what had England frightened. Standing on the other side of the beautiful white door was England's reason for his own recent dreariness.
"Sir?" England said quietly.
"Now, I'm all for you two shagging, but at my farewell dinner?" Churchill said, displaying a smirk through the cigar he held firmly in between his teeth.
"I…sir…I…that's not what—"England found himself having an incredibly difficult time creating complete sentences. All that escaped his mouth were fragmented stutters and several 'I's. Churchill stood watching amusingly as his nation struggled with his words to due his grand embarrassment and surprise. Finally taking pity on him, the now former prime minister stepped forward and gave England a pat on his arm.
"No need to be so flustered." He said before turning himself around as he began to make his way back towards the event. "Time to head back, they must be wondering where the man of the hour is."
England had never been a man of words when it came to certain feeling and emotions, but the retreating figure of his now former boss urged him to open his mouth. He knew full well that this could very well be one of the last chances he had to speak his mind. So, with an incredible amount of courage he stepped forward. "It's been a pleasure serving you, sir." England said, swallowing a gulp of nothing as Churchill stopped mid-step and turned to face him.
"Ah, now that's where you're wrong, young man." He claimed, returning to stand in front of the British nation. Taking his cigar out and holding it down with his left hand, he placed his right onto England's shoulder, giving it a good shake. "It is I that was given the pleasure of serving you."
"Sir?"
"You have been told that others and I have been your boss. However, in truth, everything I have ever done and what others will do will be for you." Replacing his cigar back in between his teeth, he promptly spun around and began making his way towards his dinner once more. "Better hurry." He called from further away. "The faster this ends the faster the real party can begin."
"Real party?" England asked confused.
"Yes, you're taking me out for a couple drinks." Churchill grinned. "Didn't think it would just end like this, did you?"
"Of course not, sir." England smiled back as Churchill nodded and continued his way down the hall. "I wouldn't dream of it." England finished quietly to himself, feeling a heavy arm drape around him.
"So far this year's been so depressing, especially April…" America said sourly as he rested his chin on top of his palm. "You got a new boss—who isn't that fun." England smiled lightly at the American's words. "And I lost a well-respected genius." America sighed as he turned to England who looked rather bemused. "Albert Einstein." He clarified.
"Ah, yes. " England nodded. "Wasn't he German?" he asked, only to get it waved away. "And performed his biggest research in several different places?"
"That's beside the point, Artie." America smiled. "He became an American citizen. So, he's mine." England replied only with a roll of the eyes. "And now it's depressing because we have to be here."
"Ah, but this is about bringing peace, mon ami." France announced, falling over and draping himself on top of America's back, his head resting on the his shoulder. America looked over to England, pleading for some help but only received a shrug in return. England was just thrilled that it was not him having to suffer through the situation.
"Yeah and that always goes awesomely." America said sarcastically, attempting to shake the Frenchman off, only to have him wrap his arms around his neck. "Ah, France…could you like let me go?" America asked getting more disturbed by the second.
"Not till we start." France replied, winking towards the Brit who only lifted an eyebrow before returning to the book in his hand. England knew he was just trying to provoke him and he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Also, he really was happy to not be the one being cuddle by the perverted blond.
Just as America was preparing himself for another shake to get the Frenchman off, Russia entered the conference room. Disappointed, France sighed and let go to America's relief.
/
"We all want peace." America said looking around the room. "We don't want a World War III. So, I think we can all find some middle ground in everything, right?" He asked, getting several nods in reply. "We should be able to find a way." He said trailing off just a tad. "So, who's ready for a break?" he was excited, it was time for food and the others quickly agreed.
Standing up from his seat, England and France followed, walking towards their temporary freedom. "It's good that we're keeping the arguments to a minimum this time." America said, entirely proud and surprised at himself for keeping his cool thus far.
"Ah, Yes, but like all Americans you do not mean what you say." Russia said pointedly, his head tilting back awkwardly as he looked towards America from his still seated position.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" America asked, staring back at the Russian, looking in disgust at the large grin he held. England and France shot quick glances at each other, worried about what could possibly out fold. They had been lucky that nothing too serious ever happened during their time at the Geneva Conference last year. It was almost a miracle that neither of them had attempted to kill each other after several months of arguments and discussions and until now this meeting was looking to be calm.
"That means exactly what it says." Russia released an all but innocent snicker. "You have a clear inability to do as promised."
"No." America fired back. "You just take everything too literal." He continued, shaking his head. "Whenever I suggest something doesn't mean I'm making a promise." He said taking a few steps closer to where the Russian was seated. "Like if I suggest that I should kick your ass, it doesn't necessarily mean I'll do it." America smiled as England closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. "I might want to be nice." He shrugged.
"Ah, I get it now." Russia's grin widened. "You Americans just love making things so difficult, da?" He asked rhetorically. "But you see, if I were to tell you that I will beat you up into a bloody pulp. Well, I can assure you that that would not be an idle threat."
"You wish you could." America snarled as he continued further until he came to stand next to the Russian.
"Oh, I think not, little America." Russia said as he stood up from his seat and looked down at the American who continued to stare at him with a blaze in his eyes. Russia couldn't help but to change his acquitted smile into a smirk, imagining tiny balls of flames shooting out from the blue orbs to only be held back by the glass in front of them. "It is you who wishes to find a way to me." Russia continued, while pointing. His finger only inches away from making contact with America's shoulder. "Just like others before."
America glared more profoundly as he looked up through the top of his frames. He held his fits tightly at his sides as they shook sporadically. It took everything he had to keep down the urge to quiver. He wasn't going to admit it. Not to anyone, especially not to the Russian in front of him, but he was scared. Terrified. Russia was right. Others have tried to invade him before and failed but, that's not what America wanted. He's scared of what Russia could do if he gained more power. He was already so big and so willing to fight if needed and with his knowledge of nuclear weapons, who knew what he was capable of? So, he couldn't let anything happen. No, he needed to be prepared for anything the Russian dished out. Couldn't make himself appear weak.
"If that's what you want to think then, go ahead." America finally said so low that the Russian had to strain to hear despite his close proximity. "If it helps you sleep at night." America continued, still not speaking loud enough to be heard by the other two nations standing off to the side. "But we both know that you wouldn't even know where to start." America finished with a sneer, Russia returning one as well.
"Alfred." America's head perked as he heard England call to him from behind. "You won't have enough time for lunch if you don't go now." He said as an excuse to get the American to leave the tension and room behind. America nodded at his words, eyes still locked on the taller nation for a several more seconds before stepping away.
As he now fought the urge to look back, America grabbed the Brit's hand in his own. He made his way to the door, knowing full well that England and even France who followed were eyeing him warily. He and England never showed any displays of affection towards each other in public, especially during official meetings. They restrained from such behaviors in order to keep their professional and personal lives as two separate entities. They also hoped it would prevent any gossip that would likely go around, even if everyone already knew of their relationship. England liked to pretend that they didn't. So, America reaching for England's hand so eagerly had surprised the Brit, but he needed it. America needed a touch of warmth after the cold freeze he had just felt.
"Your brother."
"What?" America quickly turned back around, again facing the Russian that had not moved a single step.
"Ah, you said I wouldn't know where to begin." Russia replied so calmly, knowing exactly how to taunt the abrasive American. America snarled as he inched closer to the Russian, eventually letting go of the Brit's hand. "Don't" he thought he heard as England made one last attempt to hold him in place. He had reached for the sleeve of America's suit, but regrettably missed.
"You wouldn't dare." America growled from his position in front of Russia who carried a perplexed smile, one different from the norm.
"Oh?" Russia asked, tilting his head slightly to the right.
"You're bluffing." America hissed, again folding his trembling hands into fists at his sides.
"I said that I do not bluff but, I also never said that I would do it." Russia responded, his face becoming increasingly difficult to read as any sighs of a smile had disappeared. "I was simply disproving your point." America didn't respond, couldn't. He was having a hard time controlling himself and that frightened him more then anything else, and Russia knew this.
America stood silently, unable to remove his glaze from the violet orbs that pierced back. America was aware of Russia's knowledge. He knew Russia could clearly see the panic and desperation in his eyes. Could tell the he was trying to get to him, trying to get him worked up. If only he could control his outbursts. He tried, it didn't seem apparent to others but he tried. That's why he stood. He was waiting for the urge to lunge out subsided.
Moments passed until America was finally able to control his breathing. It had slowed down to a smooth rhythm, rather than jagged exhales that flared his nostrils and threatened to fog his frames. Also finally being able to break contact with the tall Russian, he turned to the side to face England. He stood next to the Frenchman, by the door, pleading America to join them with only a look.
Deciding that the face-off was well over, America wordlessly began to move away. England smiled ever so lightly as he saw America shift towards him. He was relieved that the confrontation didn't escalate and now they would be able to enjoy their small break. His joy however, was short lived as he looked passed the American and to the Russian near by. His previously blank face was now gleaming with an expression he was not used to seeing. America scrunched his forehead together in confusion as he noticed England's concerned stare.
"Yes, he is rather close to the both of us, da?" Russia asked in his overly sweet voice. The blondes at the door widened their eyes, as America returned to his fired state. He had stopped mid-step and though he could not see him, he could feel the grin prodding him in the back. "Yes, that would be the best way to get to you." Russia said as America deepened his breaths and counted to ten.
"And I'll be able to catch your brother by surprise as well." Russia continued, his voice rising in pitch. America ceased his deep breaths by holding it in instead. England took a step closer to the pair to only be stopped by a grab at the wrist. "It would be quite fun, da?" Russia asked, expecting a reply from the American. Yet, seeing America still turned away from him, not making any attempt to argue back made him smile even grander. In fact, he had found it quite intriguing. He had never succeeded in shutting the other's mouth before. Happy with the turn out; Russia began to chuckle, the same usual soft chuckle that rang the sounds of both innocence and terror.
Russia, remaining distracted by his own giggles was caught completely by surprise when a heavy object made impact with his face. Wasting absolutely no time, he quickly stood up straight and made eye contact with the American who stared up at him with such disdain. Then with a blink of the eye and the curl of the lip Russia leaped over and began his own attack. As the two super powers threw blows at each other, the chairs around them dropped as the large table rattled as they slammed into it.
"Stop!" England exclaimed breaking away from the hand around his wrist and started to run towards the two fighting nations. He was not able to make it half way when arms grabbed him tightly. "Non, mon cher." France yelled at him, attempting to pull him back.
England stopped his struggle, cringing at the sight of America dodging a punch to only throw one in return. He observed the damage they had done in a short amount of time, besides the fallen chairs there was a litter of documents scattering the floor. He peered around, trying to avoid looking at the fight itself. He didn't want to be a witness, if he didn't see it wasn't happening. Yet, he was forced to look up when he heard a grunt leave the American's mouth.
He had dodged around to miss a hit but was still struck harshly on the shoulder. England winced and stared in horror when America, too distracted by his own pain was too slow. He couldn't manage to get out of the way of an impending blow. Russia's large hand made contact with America's left cheek, sending his glasses off his face and landing with a cling. America was able to catch himself with the help of the vibrating table. His face stinging as a trickle of blood dripped down, America leaped forward once more despite his slightly blurred vision.
England, deciding that he could no longer just stand around restarted his fight for freedom against the Frenchman. "Let me go!" He yelled as he thrashed his arms and dug his heels onto the ground, trying to push himself away. "Francis!" After more pulls, he achieved a few steps forward causing France's grip to loosen. This gave him enough space to turn himself around half way, giving the Frenchman a good shove. "We have to stop them." He shouted, rushing towards the fighting powerhouses.
"Alfred!" England shouted, knowing it would do little good. America couldn't hear a thing; he was far too gone within the moment. Unable to think of anything else that would stop the fighting nation, England grabbed hold and wrapped himself around one of America's arms while he was swinging it forward. "That's enough." He yelled, letting go with one arm, he lifted it up in front of the Russian singling to stop. "Russia!" He called out, the soviet nation fortunately being able to stop himself in mid-strike.
"Arthur, what the hell are you doing?" America yelled, grabbing a hold of England's waist with his free hand and tried to pry him off. "Move." He said, shifting his grasp onto the arms around his own, finding a way to uncurl the Brit's hold. Instead of letting go, England clashed a chunk of America's disheveled coat with the hand that was previously in the air.
"No, let's go, Alfred." England tugged.
"Get out of the way, Arthur." America shook his head and turned back to the Russian, who now stood up straight. "You'll get hurt." He snarled at Russia who smiled in return.
"Just come with me." England said as he continued to yank America's arm and coat. Finally breaking complete contact with the communist, America turned to look at the nation attached to him. "Please." England asked gaining no reaction. This was of course a good sign. America had not given him a protest, did not argue, did not fight against him. Thus, with one last jerk the American stepped away from the Russian. "Come on." England said letting go of the coat yet still keeping a good grip on America's arm.
Never letting go, England dragged the taller nation towards his abandoned glasses on the floor and picked them up. They were luckily unharmed with the exception of a slightly crooked frame and smudgy lenses, both things being easily repairable. "Come on." England repeated when America's feet seemed planted on the ground, refusing to lose sight of the communist nation.
"Yes, America, you should go."Russia said with a grin and then a laugh as America growled and sprung forward causing the Brit to quickly increase his hold.
"Ivan!" England yelled, Russia ceasing his laughter but his smile remained. England dug in his heals and pulled, fighting with all his might to get America to the doors as he lashed around to be released. "Alfred, let it go." He told the American as the reached the exit.
"If you put one finger on him I swear-!" America yelled at the smirking Russian who stayed at the same position.
"Ah ah." Russia waved a finger. "Do not say what you do not mean to do." He said tauntingly. England anticipating another jerk quickly opened the door and tossed the American out of the room. Breathing deeply after all the effort, England walked over to pick up his briefcase before taking a look at the still smiling Russian. "He started it." He shrugged. Shaking his head, England sighed and made his way out as well.
"Well…"France nodded awkwardly. "I suppose now it is break time?"
/
"What the bloody hell were you thinking?" England yelled as he pushed the American through the door of the restroom. They had walked in silence on their trail to the room until then. It had been so completely still that America was unprepared for the shove and slammed into the counter. "This is supposed to be a damned peace summit." England continued, placing his briefcase next to the sink and began to unzip it. "Must you be so easily provoked? You knew full well that he was simply trying to get you to react."
The Brit sighed to himself, feeling that he was talking to himself as he pulled out a small first aid kit that he always carried with him. Other nations, mainly America and France would mock him for having it, but you never knew when it would come in handy. Surely, America would be relieved that he had it at this moment. "There. Not come here." England said looking up to notice that America was no longer standing next to him. "What on Earth are you doing now?" He asked.
America stood at the opposite side of the rather large restroom, standing on a trash can that creaked with the weight, looking out the window. "They can be anywhere." America replied, jumping down from the poor bin that looked ready to collapse. "Have to look everywhere." He said in a low voice, bending down as far as he could and peered into every stall. Still not satisfied that the restroom was empty with the exception of the two nations, he stood in the middle of the room and gave it yet another thorough examination. He could never be too sure. "Russia is known for spies, you know?"
"Yes." England responded, rolling his eyes, a clear indication that he would soon lose his temper. "And so am I." He said grabbing the American's wrist and pulled him back to the counter.
"You're an idiot." England whispered as he cleaned a wound just below America's left eye. The taller nation winced at the sting he felt when the soft wet cloth touched his face. It was going to bruise. There was no doubt about it; it was already turning into a different shade. If they could only find a good amount of ice to at least prevent any swelling. "How could you even think about starting a fight?" England asked picking out a bandage from a small box and gently placed it own the America's face, smoothing it out with the tips of his fingers.
"I wasn't." America said scratching his head. "I don't think sometimes."
"Obviously." England scoffed.
"Yeah." America didn't deny. "I lose myself sometimes. It's like—I can feel that I'm starting to feel—different…" England scrunched his forehead worriedly at America's choice of words. "I can feel like this heightened sense of something, something almost—obsessive…" at this point the American seemed to be speaking to himself, as if he had forgotten that he was not alone. He blinked several times before looking down to face the Englishman whose large brows nearly curved into each other. America smiled. "And then Russia threatening to use Mattie to get to me just pissed me off." America narrowed his own eyebrows at the thought. "Leave my brother out if it." America placed a few fingers on the bandage on his upper cheek. "And you."
"Me?" England asked, removing America's hand away from his face. "He didn't say anything about me."
"No, but he already got his band of groupies together." America scoffed. "Friendship pact my ass." He said, turning around to face the mirror. "And Russia, all of them, are obviously much closer to you than me." He continued while examining himself. He retouched his already forming bruise and sighed.
"Hmm…"England hummed, grabbing the supplies, beginning to neatly replace the items back into the First Aid kit. "It's not like you don't have your own bandwagon."
"Do I really?" America asked almost frantically, turning to face the Brit. "I do, right?" He asked again, practically shoving his glasses back on. Any other time the sight would appear silly as the frames were still in need of some adjusting as one side poked up higher than the other. Yet, it was the clear worry that swept away any of the humor.
"You know you do." England said, momentarily stopping from repacking his briefcase to look at the panicked American.
"Okay, okay." America nodded his head rapidly several times, his newly placed glasses sliding down his nose. "That's good, yeah." He rubbed the back of his head with a short quirky laugh. "Yeah." Feeling a pair of eyes on him, America turned to England and gave a big smile, hesitantly he smiled back.
"Are you ready?" England asked after he finished neatly packing all of his supplies. "Alfred?" he called out when the American failed to respond. America had remained standing next to him, his hands holding onto the counter top yet, he faced away towards the opposite side of the room. Just as England stretched his arm out to grab the American's attention, he pushed himself off the counter and slowly walked in the direction of the window. "Alfred!" England shouted out again, stopping the American in his tracks.
"Yeah?" America said, turning back around and walked towards the restroom door. "Are you ready to eat? I'm starving." He asked never giving England a chance to respond to his first question as his hand grasped the metal handle.
"Yes, I suppose I am rather hungry." England nodded, following the American to the exit.
"Hey, England?" America said, regaining the Brit's attention, who only hummed in reply. "Fairies?" America's finished with a laugh, pointing to the bandage that currently resided on his cheek.
England coughed into a fist as his own cheeks turned a different shade for a completely different reason. "They were the only plasters I could find." He said, hopefully it was enough to make America stop that insane smile. It wasn't. Instead America smile only widened as he let out a not too convincing. 'Sure…"
"Whoo! Yes!" America shouted with his hands up, reaching for the sky. "This is going to be so much fun!" He twirled around in circles, stopping only when he started to feel dizzy and then began to wave at those passing by. They didn't seem to mind at all. Not one of them, and there were many. Large groups of families and friends ranging in age were too smiling back with great grins and waving.
"Come on, guys! Lighten up!" America said, skipping over to the fuzzy browed Brit and a young man that looked an awfully like himself. "You're in the happiest place on Earth!" He yelled, his hands stretching out on both sides as if presenting the whole theme park.
"Let's go get in line for something." And with that, the overly happy American sped off to find adventure.
"He's going to get himself lost." England smiled lightly, despite shaking his head. America could be an immature, spontaneous twit, but there was something about his glowing innocence that always made him smile.
"He'll be fine," Chuckled the soft spoken Canadian. "He's already running back." He pointed at the running nation that was zigzagging through the crowd, his cowlick hopping up and down along with him.
"Guys!" America jumped in front of the pair of blondes. "Why are you still standing around for?" He whined, clearly using all the will power he had in him to not explode with excitement.
"Alright, alright, let's go, but must you yell everything?" England sighed, finally taking a step forward.
"He's not yelling. This is his "I'm so excited" voice." Canada said, receiving a hardy pat on the back by from his brother.
"Yeah!" See, Matt's got it down!"America beamed, grabbing a hold of each of their hands. "Come on, I have something you'll like, Art." England rolled his eyes at the nicknames he used. Was he so excited and in such a hurry that he could not waste time saying their names properly? He even managed to shrink their names more then usual. He did comply however, letting him be led though out the park. It was spectacular with all the games, rides, and people in costumes. He might deny it, but he knew he would have—fun. It was all so magical and everyone knew how much he appreciated that.
/
"Merlin's Magic Shop?"
"Yup!" America beamed as they made their way through the front door. "Don't you like it?" He nudged England with his elbow before turning to Canada and lifted his brows up in unison. Canada, of course had to shook his head at his antics.
"Well, none of this is real magic." England nicely pointed out to America's dismay. "But, it is lovely." He quickly continued after seeing America's sadden expression and sigh. "Very charming." America's smile returned, as he picked up a nearby wizard's hat, placing it on the Brit's head.
"Alfred…" England said with a false irritation in his voice. Canada couldn't help but smile. Sure, they weren't talking to him very much but, that was to be expected. Just being invited so happily by his brother was enough to make him happy in return, and seeing the other two nations together was always both disgusting and mildly—adorable.
"I wanted to be here for the preview day or opening day but we just had to be at the summit…."America grumbled. "Well, actually—" he continued, completely changing his voice into a bright tone before changing it again, into a whisper. "I heard that that was a good thing. Don't tell anyone." He said, giving each a pat on the back before running off to investigate the rest of the shop.
"Um, Arthur…" Canada quietly called for England's attention after looking at the items in silence.
"Yes?" He replied, putting a woodened toy wand back onto its respected shelf. They did not look at all like the real thing. Who came up with these designs?
"Ah, um, what…what exactly happened at the summit?" The shy Canadian asked, picking up a deck of cards, anything to avoid direct eye contact. "What happened to his eye?" Canada asked. No one had previously mention anything about the dark purple marking or the small thin cut on America's lower lip yet, Canada could not have missed it. It was clear that his brother was hoping for it to not be mentioned, pretending that it didn't exist. So, Canada was forced to wait for the opportune time to ask the Brit alone.
"His eye?" England asked rhetorically, turning to take a quick peek at America. He was on the opposite side of the store, chatting animatedly with a little girl he had just made friends with. They both wore hats, no different from the one he had placed on England's head. They were much too far apart for England to be able to make out what America was saying, but could clearly see the sparkle in the little girl's vibrant browns as she giggled at his words. "Your brother is quite protective of you, you know?" England said, turning back.
"He is?" Canada asked, forgetting the cards for a brief moment, England nodded in response.
"He got in a fight for you." He smiled softly.
"Wha—what…really?" Canada asked in disbelief. He was pretty sure the summit was supposed to be about bringing peace. "With Russia?" he asked a little louder than he expected as he received an odd stare from the young man standing besides him. Laughing awkwardly, Canada moved to stand on the opposite side of the Brit as if that would make everything better.
"Yes." England simply answered, trying to hold in his own chuckle until he cleared his throat. "Trying to defend your honor." He smiled at Canada's blushing face. "I am worried about him, however." He continued, completely changing the tone while staring at the pair of magical rings in his hands.
"So, you've noticed it too, eh?" England swiftly turned away from his hands and rings he found so interesting just seconds ago. "I don't know if he's getting worse or anything. It's just becoming easier to notice." Canada continued, taking his turn to peer over at the American who now found him surrounded by several more children. "He actually manages to get me scared sometimes too." He sighed as an uncomfortable silence crept up upon the two blondes. England had returned his attention to the rings in his hands while Canada twirled the stray hair that fell in front of his face.
"Are you guys ready to go check everything else out?" America shouted with excitement, causing the others to slightly jolt at being caught by complete surprise. "There's so much more to see!"
/
"Tomorrowland!"
America had found it to be his personal responsibility to showcase the entire theme park to his invitees, choosing dragging them everywhere as the method of choice. Complaining and some resisting did always eventually ensue but, it got the job done. It couldn't be too bad as everyone did seem to be enjoying themselves.
"This is my favorite!" America exclaimed, his face searching for the right way to explain his fondness for the particular land. "One day all of this won't be for tomorrow but for today." His eyes danced with a shinning glee. "Just wait and see." England and Canada sighed contently at America's enthusiasm. He surely was an ambitious young man with big dreams and big plans to reach them. "Just wait…I'll beat you there." America laughed, England and Canada's expression quickly turning into one of worry.
"Beat who, where, Alfred?" The concerned Brit asked.
"The damn Commie." He replied. "He thinks he can get there before me, ha!" He said, his volume increase to a much greater level than before. "If I had the right equipment I bet I could get that ready to fly." He said pointing to one of the rocket shaped carts used for an attraction ride. England and Canada glanced at one another, communicating silently, asking for help to determine whether America was being serious or simply over-exaggerating his abilities.
"We have some of the best engineers here, you know?" America bragged, his lips displaying a cocky smirk as he thought up all the different scenarios, all ending with his victory. However, it was incredibly short lived as his eyes widened and he ran his fingers harshly through his hair. "Wait…" he whispered to himself as he began to erratically turn his head in all directions. "What if…" He took small steps forward, carefully eyeing those passing by, so closely into their personal space that many were beginning to get angry.
"What are you doing?" England asked, pulling America back towards Canada and himself. "You're disturbing people."
"We have a lot of good engineers here." America repeated himself, never stopping his eyes from roaming through his surroundings.
"Yes, you've mentioned, not two minutes ago. What is your point?" England asked, slowly becoming frustrated.
"What if they're here?" America asked in a sense of panic. "There are so many people here. It can be anyone." He made a quick attempt to leave the sides of his companions once more to only have his other arm pulled back as well.
"Al, I don't think Russia would be interested in the engineering that goes on in an amusement park." Canada said to him calmly, hoping his different approach would help to soothe the suspicious American. "And it's not like he's going to kidnap an engineer and then use their skills for things. He has a lot of his own." Canada smiled, until he noticed England, standing behind America, shaking his head rapidly, and clearly disapproving of his words. As a frown developed on his face, he noticed his brother starting at him—petrified.
"Oh, god, you're right." America whispered as England groaned and Canada looked regretful. "He could be coming up with things right now, right this second." He removed his arms from their holds and held his head. "We should go, I should go, yeah, I should go, I'm going to go." He slowly began walking, heading towards the park's entrance. "I have to go get more prepared." He spoke to himself, despite being followed by the other blondes.
"Al, where are you going?" Canada asked, running up in front of the American, stopping him in his tracks, America looking not too thrilled.
"Mattie, get out of my way." America said unexpectedly calm as he stepped around his brother to only be stopped by a certain European Nation. "I have to get home." America said, again trying to get away, but England had no intent of letting that happen. Every step America took, he was there to block his way.
"Alfred." England held up both of his hand, attempting to convince America to stop trying to get away. "Just—calm down." Breathing loudly, the American did slow to a stop, yet did not cease his eyes from roaming. "Now, what are you doing?" England asked gently.
"Wasting time." He answered, sending the Brit his full attention. "I should be out getting ready for whatever happens. You know you never know what can happen." England frowned.
"You're right, I do." England nodded, placing a hand on his upper arm. "But panicking isn't going to get you anywhere." Without a word, America began to slowly nod in agreement, much to England and Canada's relief.
"Yeah." America said, his face once again glowing. "I can't panic. If I do then I won't be able to do anything right." He continued to nod along with everything he said. "Okay." He took a hold of England's hand and reached for Canada's, who stood silently to his right. "Fantasyland today." He shouted happily, a toothy grin covering his face. "Find ways to stay ahead of the Reds in every way possible tomorrow." He laughed almost hysterically, dragging his companions through the magical park, a light frown resting on England's and Canada's brow.
"It's starting"
England stood near the kitchen door, taking a look at America on the couch. His eyes shined and his lips smiled in a purely authentic smile. "What is?" England asked as America stood up and made his way towards the Brit.
"Civil rights." America said, his smile gradually disappearing as his mouth formed into a thin line. "A movement for them anyway, but it's a big step. First the desegregating schools, then buses and trains, and now this." America continued speaking to England though many times it appeared as if he had forgotten he was even in the room. "It's going to be a struggle, of course." He said pacing throughout his living room. "Won't know how long it'll take. It could be years." He stopped in the middle of the room. "But it'll be worth it in the end." He smiled.
"It most certainly will." England replied.
"A lady. She refused to move from her seat on the bus." America returned to the sofa, England joining him. "It's such a small gesture." America said softly, his eyes taking in the sight of his hand being held by the other nation. "But it means so much."
"And one day it'll mean so much more."
"Yeah." America agreed hopingly at England's words. "And my citizen that's in charge of a new bus boycott. I've met him before." He nodded. "When he was much younger and I think…No, I know that I can expect a lot of good things from him."
"Well, then—it is all in good hands." England said smiling gently while America gifted him with one in return.
A/N:
1. Winston Churchill resigned from office on April 5, 1955 due to deteriorating health. A farewell dinner party was held for him at 10 Downing Street, the headquarters of Her Majesty's Government and official residence for the Prime Minister.
a. 10 Downing Street has many different rooms. England was in the White Drawing Room. A room decorated with works done by important English landscapes of the 19 century. That's really, all I know so I hope there's a big window in there, haha.
2. Albert Einstein, a German-born theoretical physicist who developed the theory of general relativity and is considered the father of modern physicist died April 15, 1955 of internal bleeding caused by the rupture of an abdominal aortic aneurysm. He had refused surgery saying: "I want to go when I want. It is tasteless to prolong life artificially. I have done my share, it is time to go. I will do it elegantly." He was 76.
a. England and America's conversation about him being German was inspired by something a British Chemistry professor I had once. He said if America could claim Einstein then they could claim someone else. I forgot who.
3. The Geneva Summit of 1955 took place on July 18, 1955 in Geneva, Switzerland. The meeting was between the presidents, prime ministers, and foreign ministers of the United States of America, United Kingdom, France, and the Soviet Union. The summit was to begin discussing peace and reduce international tension. Some of the discussions were about arms negotiations, trade barriers, diplomacy, and nuclear war, all to reach the goal of increased global security.
a. American political advisers advised to not make any specific promises to the Soviet Union for in the past they had misinterpreted American suggestions as promises later on.
b. "Oh, I think not, Little America." That reminds me of the movie Cats and Dogs…there was a scene with a Russian blue cat and he said something similar to a dog. I'm quite embarrassed…wasn't the best movie but it's cute, though it offends my cat.
4. The Warsaw Treaty Organization of Friendship, Cooperation, and Mutual Assistance, better known as just the Warsaw Pact was a mutual defense treaty between eight communist states, established by the Soviet Union. The pact was a military response to the integration of West Germany into NATO.
5. Disneyland in Anaheim, California opened its doors on July 18, 1955.
a. A special preview event was held on July 17, 1955 for only invited guests and the media, which turned out to be a disaster. The park was over crowded with people with counterfeit tickets, it was unusually hot, a plumber strike felt the park with no working fountains, newly poured asphalt caused heels to sink it, vendors rant out of food, and gas leak caused several lands to close for the afternoon.
6. Canada, though being on friendly terms with other China and Cuba was clearly on the United States' side during the Cold War. The US hoped that Canada would go further into anti-communism but Canada saw this as American hysteria though they were not completely immune to the hysteria themselves.
7. 1955 marked the start of the Space Race, a competition between the United States and the Soviet Union domination in space exploration. They both in 1955 build ballistic missiles that could be used to launch objects into space and both nations announced that they would launch a satellite by 1957or 1958
8. 1955 also marked the start of the Civil Rights Movement in the US. On December 1, 1955, Rosa Parks refused the order to give up her seat to make room for a white passenger. Though others had made similar motions, her refusal sparked a bus boycott. The Montgomery Bus Boycott was lead by the Montgomery Improvement Association, which was lead by Martin Luther King, Jr., a clergyman, activist, and civil rights leader. He was known for his nonviolent methods he followed from the teachings of Mahatma Ghandi.
a. Segregation on buses and trains is outlawed on November 5