WARNING: MAY CONTAIN OFFENSIVE VIOLENCE AND AMERICANISM. THE SONG IS LOATHING FROM WICKED OR I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU BY THREE DAYS GRACE.
"Arty, Francis, lets lay rubber." The American ordered somberly. Both Europeans nodded grimly and made to follow him. Alfred marched at the head of his troops with a deep fire in his blue eyes. They smoldered with an acidic hate that was hungry for violence. The only way to satiate his desire was to see red seep into the snow. Britain cast masked glances of concern with France towards the silently intense American but kept following confidently.
He led them past the border into Soviet Russia and ordered the first attack. Bolshevik soldiers dropped like flies quickly before they knew what was happening. Soon enough green uniforms came flooding into the battlefield. The three capitalist nations waited and watched the battle. Alfred seemed to be itching to jump in and fight alongside his men, though his less energetic former guardians held him back from acting so brazen. Every downed man made him smile a little more in fulfillment.
Then that man caught his eye. He was standing far away on a balcony staring as Alfred did. The Russian was smiling childishly down at his struggling men, seeming not to care who died. Though he smiled so innocently, his furious anger was belied by his eyes that glittered maliciously. His lips curled just a little too much to be friendly, His aura too dark to be anything but sinister, that heart too black to be considered human.
In the moment of eye contact between the two, Alfred was filled with more than resentment. He loathed Ivan with everything he had. The blonde hated his silver hair that shone beautifully and made his violet eyes sparkle. America hated the way his petal pink scarf fluttered daintily in the wind, how tall and broad chested he was, how cute his face was, and how he had ever thought anything less than absolute hatred for this monster in front of him. The American teenager wanted to rip his own lips off for sedition. It disgusted him almost as much as the Russian did. Most of all, he wanted to knock that stupid smile off the silverette's face.
As if he caught this last thought from America, Ivan smirked haughtily directly at the scowling blonde.
Alfred woke in the middle of the night to complete blackness. The shadows seemed to reflect his dream like a mirror, replaying the final moments in an ethereal light. His bangs clung to his sweaty forehead as he breathed heavy with emotion from the memory. As his hands stopped their trembling and he unclenched the sheets balled up around him, he began to lie back down. The blonde man curled up into a ball to dry sob for the third consecutive night since he returned home from the Great War. Sleep came slow a first, then nonexistent as the days passed. Now he could only lie awake in bed until the early morning light would give him excuse to rouse from his coiled state.
It's not patriotic enough. Make it more patriotic.
This was the solution he always defaulted to for everything wrong with his country. The problems? Everything not American, basically. Russians, Wobblies, left wingers, Germans, protestors, Communists, and Russians… did he mention Communists? Those things were infesting him wherever he went! Like rats causing disease in his perfect nation. Nothing could be done to stop the swell of infection that was destroying him. That purple gaze was always on his mind. The streets were being purged daily of the scum. Legion was wiping away so much grime! But it seemed there was an endless flow of unpatriotic slackers. For every three that were incarcerated, two were deported and ten started a new riot. His cities plagued with wobbly endorsed riots and violent chaos was terrible to see.
Sometimes he had to get away. Alfred would switch states just to try and escape the destruction that enraged his heart. But it was always the same. In Iowa there was a man wearing a long white scarf that flicked out behind him as he walked along the streets. The nation threw him in jail immediately. In Seattle, workers were under the spell of the Wobblies and began to cause destruction and strike out against America. There was nothing wrong with America! Luckily, Mayor Hansen was there to dispense huge amounts of cops and federal troops to keep the city safe from the domestic Hun. The plot to establish communism was successfully stamped out. Or so he thought! Just when he thought he was safe, Boston's finest went on strike! Those Reds were even in his police force. America angrily called for the entire company of strikers to be fired and promptly replaced by good American men.
He was fretting over this when his brother found him roaming -prowling- the streets for any plots against the great American way of life. Matthew had to grab his arm before the more powerful nation even saw him, he had been too busy watching two sheet covered men carrying baseball bats corner a Negro woman. Canada almost pulled back when America came face to face with him. Alfred had this half-crazy look in his sleep deprived eyes that quite frankly scared the younger. "Uh, hi, Alfie…" Matthew offered a wary smile.
Alfred's bloodshot eyes blinked a few times before a smile lit up his face and he enveloped his brother in a bone crushing hug. "Leave the Reds to Legion, Mattie! How are you?" he almost shouts with a bout of uneasy fake laughter.
"Fine. I would ask you the same… but you look terrible. What's gotten in to you?" Matthew shot directly, cutting the pleasantries. Since his brother was not really pleasant to be around mostly anyways.
The taller looked at him blankly. "Everything is great; I am cleaning up my streets of the scum! Never felt better!" he denied turning at the sound of a sickening crunch followed by a blood curdling cry of pain. The woman had fallen to the ground behind a dumpster and was screaming for someone to help as the bats were brought down on her mercilessly. Matthew was repulsed by the sight- and the fact that Alfred was ignoring it to smile at him.
"What is wrong with you?" he finally asked after staring aghast into those cloudy blue eyes for a few minutes, vainly trying to comprehend what was going on in that lofty brain of his.
"Nothing is wrong." He stated firmly. A twitch of the eye interrupted the façade. "That negro woman tried to enter a white washroom last week." He shrugged in explanation. "She deserves-"
Smack! She sound of a pale hand striking the elder's cheek sounded down the alley, startling the attackers. Upon seeing the two on lookers, one livid with disgust and the other wide eyed in sheer surprise as he touched his burning cheek, they made a run for it. The woman was reduced to tears of relief as she curled up into herself to clutch her broken ribs that screamed in pain. Her sobs were the only sound for what seemed an eternity to the brothers.
"Mattie-" Alfred began with a hurt expression.
"Keep your kisser closed and listen to me! You. Are. Sick." The livid Canadian cut him off unceremoniously. "Stop being so paranoid! None of these people are after you. These are your own innocent Americans you are throwing into conditions worse than humanely possible! I do not get your problem. Just focus on stopping the spread of communism if Soviet Russia bothers you- but in the places it actually is. Stop chasing your fantasies all over the place and chopping your own arm off because you're an idiot, we are not the Europeans that kill their own people like the Prussian crusaders. It sickens me to hear this news. You sicken me."
If you are too weak to actually face Russia, then focus on the Germans. Just snap out of whatever this is and do something progressive for your country." Mathieu shouted sternly, his face red tinged from lack of breath. Before he could deflate at the withered face his brother was making, the maple loving teen turned around and left in mock huff.
That left America standing there alone on the street in silence. The woman had finally fallen quiet but Alfred's mind was louder than before. All the things his northern brother said was running through his mind. Oh god, he had been so selfish… putting his human feelings before that of his country and people…. How could he have done that?
No, how can he right it? His thoughts began racing in his head as he left the wounded woman behind without a second thought. He had to get back to his apartment and work this out. Make a list, Arthur was all about lists. He plowed into his Oklahoma residence and barely remembered to lock the door behind him.
He could not directly attack Russia himself. That was out of the question. He told himself it was because that would send the wrong message to the Russian people who were rejoicing over their recent 'victory' over oppression. It would vilify America and unite them against the west, something he could not have. Others though… it was not his problem what other Countries they vilified. In fact, he could look good not being the one to attack. Who was against Russia? He wrote down the list of the perfect ones.
The White Army- even though they were Anarchists, no one could deny how strategically well they were placed. The Union could be torn apart from the inside! Alfred tried to forget how he delicately fingered his midsection where his scar was at the thought of being internally ripped apart.
Afghanistan- the more soldiers they could take out in their fight for freedom, the better.
Germany- he could not arm this one. It would be too dangerous and bother the Entente terribly if he was to do that… but he could turn a blind eye and let them do it themselves against the Treaty of Versailles.
There! Now to write the Europeans about joining the swanky League of Nations. The boss did say they were going ahead with it, right..? Oh well, what I cannot remember must not have been important, Alfred reasoned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~….``(^_^)``….~~~~~~~~~~~~
America ended up not doing the whole League of Nations thing. '29 had brought him with the worst case of sickness he had ever felt before- Depression. His stock market had crashed; Wall Street was ground zero at best for the moment. Abolition had finally been repealed in 1933 by the popular vote on account of it getting us nowhere but deeper in crime. There was no way in hell he was admitting his over zealousness after the War was biting back but he really felt the awful empty feeling in his heart. His stomach was queasy, but he could not eat. Bags were under his eyes, but he could not get a wink of sleep. There was so much hunger in his land right now he could barely think straight. Well, he could still pretend he had no idea what they were talking about when the other nations asked him when he was going to join the League of Nations, which had been his idea to begin with. Which was good that his boss said joining right now was a no go… since Soviet Russia somehow joined against the American's wish. Who had invited him anyway?
Nevertheless, it was this lonely affliction that led him to seek out company in the third month and fifth day of 1935. At first he was shooed away from Britain, who was busy with a dying king and something about negotiations so America was prompted by an irate Briton to go bother the frog. So he did. He traveled further to Paris and marched unannounced into the Frenchman's home as he had done to the British man's before. Of course they knew him there and seemed really excited to see him. Alfred had to insist they not go ahead of him to open the door even!
With a desperate look, an attendant tried to plead with him. "Monsieur Francis says he is not to be disturbed. Please, America…" he pleaded with the American futilely.
The blonde just smiled to the human and laid his hand on the knob of the conference room France was supposed to be in. "Ha! He's either petting himself or having a meeting, he will not be bothered if I come in!" Alfred announced confident in his profiling of his old parent. Horse feathers, these guys did not know him!
The attendant absconded having tried his best to assuage the American to come away and wait for France to be done with his meeting. Alfred threw open the door and stepped in, trying to look at least half as sick as he really was. His first thought was that he should have listened.
Francis was up on the table with his long trouser clad legs wrapped around a thick ivory coated waist while he kissed a broad shouldered silverette passionately, making unabashed lewd noises as he tugged lightly on the pink scarf wrapped around his partner's neck. The wavy blonde hardly bothered to look up to see what was the matter with the entire ruckus Alfred made during his entrance. The teen could not believe what he was seeing. The Frenchman he had known since he was a baby was petting his Ivan!
Wait, strike the possessive! No way had he even thought that but- "WHAT THE HELL YA DOIN', FRANCIS?" he found himself yelling in his southern accent. He just could not control it when he was flustered or angry.
Russia suddenly stiffened at the voice, making France pull away with a pout on his face. "Negotiating a five year alliance with Russia, mon petit. I know you have done this before~" he chuckled feeling a bit put out. He made a funny face at Russia for a moment, possibly finding something in those hidden violet orbs that sent a shiver down his spine.
"Well, uh, Arty was busy so I thought I might visit you…" Alfred explained, a little deflated at the simple reason. Remember, he had no reason to openly fight… do it behind his back… right! Look like a superhero! Nothing less.
France tossed his golden mane back and laughed. "Well, as you can see, I am a bit busy to make love to you right now… you will have to wait in line!" he said winking lasciviously.
"I was not coming to have sex with you!" America shot back indignantly. Gah! That Frenchie really got on his nerves! "Never mind, good day... you too, Russia!" he smiled through clenched teeth as turned to exit the door, not bothered at all that Russia had not even turned around during their encounter. Not that he wanted to see that dumb Dora face again!
As he shut the door behind him and leaned against it briefly for support he heard Francis' faint accented cooing. "Relax, Mon amour Ruski, do not grip me so tight…"
Oh, so he was that intent on having Francis that he went right back to it so quickly? Not even a moment to remember the American love he had? Well, obviously he really had not meant anything to him if he was so easily forgotten! …or never meant anything in the first place at all…
The sickness clutched him again as his heart ached anew. He did not want to see him now or ever… he did not want to fight with him as he used subterfuge against him. He would be damned if he joined anything that had nothing to do with him!
The preoccupied American ended up at his brother's Ontario house instead of his own but nearly knocked down the door to go in despite the fact it was not his to freely trespass. Alfred stomped into the kitchen and sat down on the table to watch the longer haired twin sigh deeply and ignore him. He was making too many pancakes anyway… "Alfie, are you going to tell me why you are in my kitchen?" Matthew asked eventually just to break the uncomfortable silence.
"I am going to be as neutral as Vash!" Alfred announced with fake excitement.
"Is that so?" the French borne teen wondered. "Maybe the Geneva convention is making you a better person..." he said offhandedly
Alfred stuck his tongue out at his brother and huffed at the comment. "I just don't want to be swept up in their stupid European wars. That is all!" the bespectacled elder clarified for the benefit of waving the reference of their past argument away. It had been a decade since then, but it still bothered him to remember it.
Flipping the hot pancakes onto a high stacked plate, Matthew brought the meal to the table to split. "That is all wet, brother, and you know it… at least tell me you will plan on keeping with the lend lease program?" Williams sighed at what he knew to be his brother it holding through his promises.
Alfred thought for a moment then responded easily enough: "yes, I will keep my end of that." He promised, taking a pancake from the top as Matthew poured the maple syrup all over it. The result was sticky brown splatting all over Canada's nice white embroidered linen. Phooey, it is not like he had a woman around to fix it, he had to make another one if the stain did not come out. Alfred, as a rule, never noticed to offer to foot the cleaning bill. But that was Alfred.
"That is good…" the violet eyed brother relented.
Stalin's speech.
19 August 1939
If Germany should prove to be victorious, she will leave the war too weakened to start a war with the USSR within a decade at least. She will have to supervise the occupation of France and England and to prevent their restoration.
In addition, a victorious Germany will have vast territories; the exploitation of those and their adaptation to German methods will also absorb Germany during several decades.
Obviously, this Germany will be too busy elsewhere to turn against us. There is one additional thing that will strengthen our safety. In a conquered France, the French Communist Party will always be very strong. A Communist revolution will unavoidably break out, and we will be able to exploit the situation and to come to the aid of France and make her our ally. In addition, all the nations that fall under the "protection" of a victorious Germany will become our allies. This presents for us a broad field of action for the initiation of world revolution.
Comrades, I have presented my considerations to you. I repeat that it is in the interest of the USSR, the workers' homeland that a war breaks out between the Reich and the capitalist Anglo-French bloc. It is essential for us that everything should be done so that it drags out as long as possible with the goal of weakening both sides. For this reason, it is imperative that we agree to conclude the pact proposed by Germany, and then work in such a way that this war, once it is declared, will be prolonged maximally. We must strengthen our economic work in the belligerent countries, in order to be prepared when the war ends.
Churchill's first address
13th May 1940
I SPEAK TO YOU FOR THE FIRST time as Prime Minister in a solemn hour for the life of our country, of our Empire, of our Allies, and above all the cause of freedom. A tremendous battle is raging in France and Flanders. The Germans, by a remarkable combination of air bombing and heavily armoured attacks have broken through the French defenses north of the Maginot Line and strong columns of their armoured vehicles are ravaging the open country, which for the first day or two was without defenders… We must not allow ourselves to be intimidated by the presence of these armoured vehicles in unexpected places behind our lines… It would be foolish, however to disguise the gravity of the hour. It would be still more foolish to lose heart and courage or to suppose that well-trained and well-equipped armies numbering three to four millions of men can be overcome in the space of a few, weeks, or even months, by a scoop, or raid of mechanized vehicles, however formidable.
Today is Trinity Sunday. Centuries ago words were written to be a call and a spur to the faithful servants of Truth and Justice: 'Arm yourselves, and be ye men of valor, and be in readiness for the conflict; for it is better for us to perish in battle than to look upon the outrage of our nation and our altar. As the Will of God is in Heaven, even so let it be.'
Roosevelt's request for war
December 8, 1941
Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, members of the Senate and the House of Representatives: Yesterday, December 7th, 1941 — a date which will live in infamy — the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan…
Yesterday the Japanese Government also launched an attack against Malaya.
Last night Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.
Last night Japanese forces attacked Guam.
Last night Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.
Last night the Japanese attacked Wake Island.
And this morning the Japanese attacked Midway Island.
Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation
Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger.
With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounded determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph. So help us God.
I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire.
The day it happened seems unreal. Japan had been on great terms with him, they were having normal peace talks… Hitler had even said America had nothing to do with it… The war was something to idly debate whether to enter or not… Then Kiku had come up unannounced to his house one previously unremarkable day. Alfred, like any other person believing he was on good terms with the short Japanese man had opened the door. Kiku had grabbed his neck, pressing his katana just under his chin to keep him in place as he was shoved against the doorsill. America was dumbfounded. What was this? A steel toed boot crushed down against his bare foot and crunched the bones dully. A gasp passed the American's lips as he looked incomprehensibly into Nippon's dark inexpressive eyes. "You will not interfere, America-san." He commanded evenly.
In a flash the white uniformed man was gone. His foot was broken, as was his naval base in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. The day after, an angry President Roosevelt addressed a devastated and panicking Nation. Everyone was betraying him, he thought. War was declared on Japan. Not just abroad. Alfred compulsively put all Japanese-Americans under house arrest or in jail in case of further terrorist attacks. There was no such thing as too careful; he tried to reason with himself.
Then the moment came… the Axis Powers declared war on the United States. There was no other way around it; he had to join the Allies. So, head held high, he entered their first meeting with a boisterous laugh. Canada shook his head in time with a snickering France while Britain shouted at him for being late to his first meeting. But he did not care to notice them. His eyes were focused on the smiling baby-face sitting quietly at the right hand of the conference table. The Red was eating some strange outlandish snack between swigs from his canteen, all the while eyeing the observing American newcomer. Be the face of a hero and show that sick, homicidal, heartbreaking fiend what he missed. The face of a hero and the hidden hand of righteous justice.
A smirk crossed his face, confident as the bright blue of his eyes, as he announced boldly. "The hero has arrived, guys. I have a plan to save you from the Hun once again. Working as a team we will prevail! First! Arty needs to find a dress and have Francis escort her as a German officer with his wife named Alice and you can use Russia as a car engine while China makes a distraction and- "the room burst into objections but America only grinned. He only had eyes on Russia, silently challenging him. Alfred might hear them calling the foremost Allies the 'Big Four' but he was only interested in getting back at Japan, showing Germany who was the superpower, and showing up Soviet Russia.
Russia grinned his acceptance and man, oh man, did he want to touch that face… Break it in with his fist and watch the blood spill over those smiling lips. See that smile falter. Alfred had a feeling he would rejoice both the Axis casualties and the Soviet. Whoever of them loses is a win for America! This was a far more interesting war, one fought with smiles and handshakes.
DMITRI:
ALLO, I HOPE I DIDN'T LOSE YOU IN THOSE 4,237 WORDS OF UGLY NASTY AMERICANISM. ONCE AGAIN; NOT MY VIEWS ON THE MATTER… UNLESS YOU MEAN MATVEY'S, I LIKE HIS VIEW OF IT. EXPLANATIONS ARE IN ORDER, I SUPPOSE.
*IN 1918 EVERYBODY ATTACKED RUSSIA AT THE END OF THE WAR SINCE THEY LEFT. WELL, THEY HAD BEEN DOING IT ON A SLIGHTLY SMALLER SCALE BEFORE…
**FROM THE END OF THE WAR TO VERY EARLY TWENTIES, LIKE A SUDDEN VIOLENT STORM SWEEPING THROUGH THE LAND, THE RED SCARE WAS CHARACTERIZED BY IDIOTS PUTTING PEOPLE AWAY ON HEARSAY. IF YOU LOOKED/SOUNDED/WERE ASSOCIATED WITH/MIGHT HAVE BEEN/ACCUSED OF/RUMORED TO BE COMMIE THEN THEY THREW YOU INTO AWFUL CONDITIONS AND BASICALLY RUINED YOUR LIFE. YOU COULD BE DEPORTED FROM YOUR AMERICAN HOMELAND IF SOMEONE SAID YOU TALKED TO SOMEONE WHO MIGHT HAVE BEEN A SOCIALIST. SERIOUS. LEGION (A HUGE AMERICANIST GROUP) PASSED PAMPHLETS AND VIGILANT 'JUSTICE' OUT TO THE WOBBLIES AND CO. (WOBBLIES ARE WORKER UNION GUYS). BUT OF COURSE THE KKK RAN RAMPANT THROUGH THE STREET UNTOUCHED. IT STOPPED AFTER A BIT AND EVERYONE GOT FINED AND STUFF BUT NO ONE REALLY REGRETTED IT.
*** AMERICA FUNDED LOTS OF PEOPLE. AGAINST THE SOVIET UNION? JUST TELL AMERICA, HE'LL LEND YA CRAP TONS OF GUNS AND MONEY TO DO WHATEVER.
****FRANCE AND SOVI RUSKI STARTED OUT WITH A FIVE YEAR PLAN THEN EVENTUALLY WENT TO TEN… WHILE RUSSIA WAS MAKING TONS OF DEALS WITH GERMANY IN CASE HITLER WON… AND BRITAIN WAS MAKING DEALS TOO. LIKE THE FAILED APPEASEMENTS.
***** LEND LEASE IS A SYSTEM THE ALLIES USED SINCE WORLD WAR ONE TO BORROW GUNS AND PEOPLE. NEUTRAL AMERICA SENT THE ALLIES STUFF, NOT AXIS SO—
****** JAPAN FUCKED PEARL HARBOR (OR BROKE AMERICA'S FOOT) AND KILLED A LOT OF MILITARY PEOPLE. WE GOT ANGRY AND DECLARED WAR (OH SWEET COMEUPPANCE )SO NIPPON'S ALLIES DECLARED WAR ON U.S. AND VICE VERSA.
AND AS A NOTE, WHY IS CHINA AN ALLY? HE WAS MORE LIKE A PET… THAT EVERYONE HAD TO FIGHT ON AGAINST THE JAPANESE… WELL, QUEUE THE CANON WORLD WAR 2 STUFF BECAUSE THERE IS NO POINT IN REWRITING IT NOW THAT I SET THE UNDERTOW MOOD~~ NEXT CHAPTER IS THE COLD WAR UNTIL '93 WHEN SOVIET RUSSIA IS ONLY RUSSIA.
QUESTION? COMMENTS? PLEASE DROP A REVIEW TO FEED ME AND I'LL UPDATE FASTER! I'M RESEARCHING FOR HOURS TO GET THIS HUMANIZED AND BE ACCURATE… AND NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE VERY LONG INDEED. SO REVIEW AND I WILL SLAVE TO GET IT DONE BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS!
Serelinda: I have never thought so hard about when the word 'communist' needs to be capitalized before now. And that author's note... I tried to find a way to make it more readable in my sudden headache. Like taking off the bold and italics. Yeah. Didn't help much. So I put it back. Sorry if I missed something!
On the up side: Yay! Only 8 pages! Beware, readers. The next chapter is epically long.
Dmitri: I do have blaring notes, don't i?
