America decided to wash his hands slowly. Very, verrrry slowly. If no one was winning the bet, irritating Canada was the next best thing. He sloooowwwly turned the knob for the hot water to run. He let the clear liquid run over his pale hands, and patiently waited for the temperature to go up.
"At least I won't have to do the dishes..." He mumbled to himself. He really did hate doing the dishes. And he wasn't really loosing anything if Canada DIDN'T kiss France... Just an excuse to pick on his brother.
America adjusted his weight as something donned on him... He messed with Canada a lot. That's what had started this whole ordeal to begin with, right? And Canada had totally been out of his comfort zone today too... He had even stood up to Germany. Maybe kissing France was going too far... It wouldn't be make-out or anything. America wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought. Ew? That would be like... Like America kissing England! America resisted the urge to gag. No no no, it would just have been a kiss on the cheek or something.
By this time, America deigned the water warm enough. He got his hands good and soaked, and then found the soap dispenser. To America's disappointment, it wasn't foamy soap. He piled the questionable pink gloop in his hand and began to thoroughly scrub. He always wondered... why make the soap pink? It reminded him of that one Ghostbusters movie, and America did not like ghosts. At that time, America heard two sets of footsteps romp past the bathroom doors at breakneck speeds, and turn down the hall.
What the hell? America looked at the closed door as he continued to spread suds all over his hands. He raised a single eyebrow as his brain rushed through the plausible explanations for all if the racket. Are England and France seriously running around? Even I'm not that bad. America heard a loud THUNK and he let out a snicker. He imagined France running into a wall. Or better yet, England! How many times had England told him to "Stop running around the house like a nutburger before you run into something!" when he was a kid?
America looked at his hands covered in foamy white suds and wet them a little, making them even more slippery. He rubbed the side of his thumb and his pointer finger together and put them together, making a circle. He admired the rainbowy-swirls dancing on the soapy film for a bit before raising his hand and gently blowing on the surface, making a bubble.
America laughed at himself as he watched the bubble gracefully float to the counter and pop. He was such a child. He tried again, blowing slowly to make a larger bubble. By the fourth or fifth bubble, America began to feel guilty. He had kept Canada waiting long enough... by now -The-Maple-Up was probably ready to rip his brother's head off. America blew one last, tiny bubble for good measure before scrubbing all of the soap off.
He grabbed a paper towel and looked at himself (or maybe he was looking at Canada?)in the miror as he dried his hands. It felt so alien, so abnormal to look exactly like Canada. He fixed his glasses and attempted to make Nantucket stay down, but it wouldn't, not the he expected it to. He sighed as he gave up. Blue eyes examined his clothing, self consciously adjusting his tie and smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. He missed his favorite jacket, even if Canada's was fuzzier on the inside.
To be completely honest, America was looking forward to going home. They'd get drive-thru on the way back, so there was that to look forward to. Once he finally got back to the good ol' US of A, America could just flop down on the couch or something.
America looked around and saw a clock hanging on the wall. From doing business and washing his hands, he had just stalled for fifteen minutes. America smiled to himself as he walked out of the room. He was Alfred F. Jones, master procrastinator.
A master procrastinator... who had no idea where Canada was.
He looked both ways down the hall, but he didn't see anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Whatever the commotion was that had happened earlier must've been long gone by now.
Maybe Canada was already at the car. Canada wouldn't ditch America, would he? America internally freaked out before remembering that Canada didn't have the keys. America patted his pocket and sure enough it jingled in response. America sighed in relief. So if Canada wasn't by the car... where would he be?
Maybe Canada had gone back into the meeting room? Well, no way would Canada do that voluntarily... so that would mean that someone had called him into the meeting room.
America gingerly poked his head into the meeting room to see if he could find Canada. England and France were still there, bickering loudly about alcohol consumption. To America's disappointment, neither of them looked injured... so what was all that noise in the hall then? America pushed it out if his mind. Right now he was focused on finding his brother.
He walked up to England and France and stood there for a second, waiting to be noticed. Why did Canada do that? Why didn't he just say something? But America couldn't break character now. He would just jump in when the timing was right.
"At least I don't sit around drinking sissy-frufru-rotten-grape juice!" The Brit sneered at France.
"Und at least et takes me more zan half a glass of wine to make me into a drunken fool!" France retorted.
America decided that now was as good a time as any. Go for it, buddy. "Hey there. Have either of you-"
"Are you suggesting that I can't hold my liquor? I can to hold my liquor, thank you very much!" England yelled, ignoring poor America entirely.
"Oh-ho-ho, pardon moi! Zen you must act like a drunken pirate all of ze time, my bad!"
You did act like a pirate once. America held back the comment and instead sighed. He knew where this was going.
"I am a gentleman! At least I do not go around molesting innocent bystanders!" England was a deep shade of red.
"Are you sugesting zat I do?" France sounded highly offended.
But you do… America bit his tongue once more. Saying that wouldn't be very polite... "Excuse me?" He said, a little louder.
"Oh pleaaaaasee! You're a complete and total wanker, frog, and you know it!"
"A wanker?"
"Yes! A bloody wanker, the biggest one I've ever known!"
" Fine! Und do tell, how are your unicorns and pixies doing?" France asked with a mocking sneer.
America felt like hitting his head against the wall. They were painfully oblivious. "England... Arthur..? France... Francis!" America looked at both of them. Did they REALLY not see him?
"Just fine! Thank you for asking!" England yelled.
"Will you two hurry up and make out already?" America figured that if he said anything in Canada's voice, it would never be heard. He didn't have the time or the patience for this.
England was about to attack France when America stepped directly between them.
"Hi." America looked at England, then at France, then back to England.
"Oh, why, hello there, ah..." England trailed off.
"Canada." France finished for him. "We did not see you zhere."
"I know." America gave a painfully polite smile. He wanted to smack them. "Have either of you seen Alfred?"
"I haven't." England shrugged.
"Not since you two left zhe room earlier." France added.
America folded his arms across his chest and bit his bottom lip. His eyes scanned he room for countries still remaining. That meant that all of the countries still in the meeting room...England, France, Russia, China, Austria, Hungary, Greece, Italy, Romano and Japan wouldn't have seen his brother either. It was safe to assume the rest of the countries had already left.
"Thanks anyway." America gave a polite little wave and walked back out of the room. His heart skipped a beat as he realized that Germany wasn't in the meeting room... meaning he had already left. America nervously laughed in spite of himself... He could be so paranoid sometimes. Germany wouldn't touch a hair on Canada's head... Why would he? Kidnapping was beyond Germany. Now, Russia, on the other hand, would be psycho enough to do that... but Russia was still in the meeting room.
America leaned up against the wall outside of the meeting room as his mind filed through the various options as to where Canada could be...The thought that Germany may have done something to Canada didn't sit right with America. It kept nagging at the back of his head whenever he tried to think of other places Canada could be. America was too anxious to just stand there... He was just being paranoid was all. Everything would be fine.
America decided to walk around for a bit, just to settle his nerves. He casually wandered past the bathroom. Maybe Canada had gone in there looking for America? America highly doubted it. He kept walking aimlessly down the different halls, giving into anxious thoughts hammering his mind. Germany... Canada... What were Germany's exact words?... Not a threat my ass. If that wasn't a threat, then I'm a vegetarian... And then... what was all that noise, if it wasn't France and England?
America's mind instantly clicked. His heart skipped a beat as he remembered hearing someone chasing someone else. No... America nervously fidgeted with his tie again. He was lost in deep though when the crunch of something underfoot caught his attention.
The beige tile floor was littered with shattered glass. He knew he had further deformed the thin metal frames when he stepped on them, but they now resembled scraps of tin foil. America felt numb with shock as he tenderly picked up the deformed frames.
America had just found Canada's glasses. There was no mistaking it. His stomach sank and his heart filled with rage.
Nothing could describe the flurry of emotions he felt. Nothing. It was a burning rage. How dare Germany pull a stunt as low as kidnapping? How dare that communist bastard even think about doing this? All rage was suddenly snuffed out as it was replaced with a sinking, sickening, cold guilt. Everything Germany was doing to Canada was meant for America. He should be the one kidnapped, not Canada. Canada shouldn't be involved at all... The two clashing emotions were fighting for dominance. America felt sick and dizzy.
In his confusion, America knew two things. He was going to be the hero. He owed that to Canada...No. He owed that to Matthew Williams, his brother. He was going to rescue Mattie no matter what.
The second thing America knew was this; If anything, anything at all happened to Canada…He would never forgive himself.
America clutched his brother's broken frames in trembling hands as he walked back to the meeting room. America coped with his emotions in the easiest way he knew how; by replacing his insecurities with arrogance. He wasn't going to let this happen. He was going to fix everything. He would swoop in, kick German ass, and be the hero. But even America's ego knew he couldn't do it alone.
He opened the door to the meeting room once more and felt a little embarrassed as relief swept over him. Other countries were still here. France was chit-chatting with Russia and China, and most importantly, England was still here.
The British man was bent over, packing up his scrap papers into a briefcase and trying to make the area where he was sitting appear "tidy". It was part of his gentlemanly-thing.
America didn't think twice before walking over to Britain. He placed his hand on Britain's shoulder, causing the him to jump a bit before whipping around to face America. At first his expression was harsh, his mouth agape, no doubt ready to spit out stinging words but softened the instant he saw the dead serious look on America's face.
England came to his full height, his emerald eyes never leaving America's. Something seemed to have donned on him. England gently touched America's hand on his shoulder. "...Alfred?...Is that you?" He asked gently, tentatively. "...What…" He trailed off.
America broke eye contact and tried to keep his voice low and steady."Arthur...I screwed up. Matthew needs our help."
Hello~
*THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, FAVORITE-ING, SUBSCRIBING, REVIEWING, AND WHATEVER ELSE YOU MAY HAVE DONE. YOU ARE AWESOMER THAN PRUSSIA AND AMERICA COMBINED.
*I don't like it. I don't know why, I'm just not feeling this chapter. But I need to post it, so… here you go.
Yeah, I'm tired right now. You'll see the next chapter sooner or later, I promise! Thank you for EVERYTHING!
Happy Reading~!
