America closed his eyes, pushing away the kinder side of himself. His gear suddenly seemed lighter on his shoulders and he opened his now darker eyes. Two years...he had two years to relax with his brother and his beloved Japan. Then his current boss ordered him and many troops to fly to Vietnam. He already knew that there was tension in Vietnam because Japan told him about it. At first, he was a little scared, but after a tiny self-pep talk, he was ready.
The chopper landed and he jumped out with the other soldiers he was with and he was almost instantly deafened by the explosions of bombs and shells going off. He ducked out into the grass and vaguely heard orders to move in. He crouched low and ran, his gun ready to shoot. He had one quiet moment in the back of his mind and he heard a soft voice amidst the firing of guns. 'Don't go in there...'
***Deliver Us***
His eyes were wide in horror as the agonizing screams of his comrades echoed all around him. He was afraid to move from the one place he was in this jungle. If he moved, he could trip a wire or be seen. His body shook in cold and fear, he refused to move.
Several painful hours later, everything went quiet. No bombs, no bullets, no screams...he only heard his own breathing.
'Oh God! What do I do? Should I move? I need to find my comrades!' He slowly looked up...nothing. He looked around himself...nothing. He finally took a step and walked around the tree. He froze when he met the barrel of a rifle. He gulped and felt his blood go cold, but his heart beating faster. His eyes traveled down the gun and saw North Vietnam glaring at him with an evil smirk.
"Hello, Alfred..." she cooed darkly, "I wondered where you were hiding for a while, but I've been watching you for some time tonight."
America forced himself to go back into his war-ready mode and smirked. "Hello, Yên. It's been a while since the last meeting with your sister...isn't it?" He pushed her rifle away from his face. "You haven't seen Liên around, have you?"
"What does it matter?" she sneered, "It's just you and me!"
"I don't think so." America lifted his hand and dropped something very tiny. Vietnam looked and saw a grenade pin. "See ya!"
"NO!" she screamed as America tossed the grenade into the air and took off. She charged after him but the grenade went off, throwing her in a different direction. She covered her head and neck to avoid injuries. When the debris settled, she stood up to find herself alone again. "Damnit!"
***Deliver Us***
Canada heard knocking at his door. "Just a moment!" He took the pancake out of his skillet and washed his hands quickly. As he dried them, he walked to the door. He opened the door. "How can I...Alfred?"
His eyes fell upon what he thought was his brother. America's hair was long and disheveled, his glasses dirty, his body grimy with half-assed bandages covering his many wounds. His uniform was in tatters and covered in bloodstains. But what frightened Canada the most was the horrified look in America's eyes. It was like he had been to Hell and back.
"Alfred? Are you okay?"
"Let me in..."
Canada stepped back and watched his brother limp in. The moment the door was closed, America collapsed. Canada caught him when he only fell on his knees. "Whoa, easy there!"
"So much...it was...why?" America sobbed, "Matthew! It was..." He broke down into hard sobs.
"Shh, it's okay," Canada whispered as he helped America to his feet, "Let's get you to your room, I'll make you some pancakes." He opened the door to America's room and looked in awe. It was so...colorful. Apparently before the war started, he went out and bought things that were just starting to become popular. Tie-dye things, lava lamps...he had peace signs hanging on the wall and beanbags littering the floor. 'Oh, it's the hippie age...I kinda forgot.'
America stumbled in, dropping his duffel bag. "Thank you, Matthew." He looked over his shoulder as he began to unbutton his shirt. Canada saw a dazed look in those baby blues. "You're the best, dude."
Canada forced on a smile despite his worry. "No problem." He closed the door and his heart jumped. He had to call Japan, it was possible that all his brother needed was him. He walked to the other room and dialed the number.
"Moshimoshi?"
"Kiku, it's me, Matthew."
"Oh, Matthew. How's everything going right now at home? Have you heard from Alfred yet?"
"He just got home right now," Canada sighed, "But he's not acting like himself and he's wounded a bit."
"What happened?"
"He came in and started sobbing," Canada answered, "I don't know what to do, he won't even finish a sentence. I was hoping you could come over and help him."
"I'll be over there in a few hours, just do what you can. Thank you for calling me."
Meanwhile, America stood still under the hot shower, the soap and water stinging in his wounds. In the few years he spent over in Vietnam, the things he saw was not able to be told apart from nightmare and reality. He shook violently and he bit his arm, screaming in fear. He didn't need to sleep anymore to experience a nightmare. The sights of his comrades being tortured and all those citizens brutally slaughtered attacked him again and he withheld a scream that was building.
He shut off the water and stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist. After putting on fresh bandages, he grabbed a pair of tattered flared blue jeans. After putting those on, he ran the towel over his hair roughly and combed it. His hair now reached his shoulders and that hair kink stood out more. He tied his hair into a simple pony-tail and he searched his drawers. "Please, let it be here!" He pulled out a black bag and opened it.
***Deliver Us***
Japan entered Canada's home and instantly took of his shoes. "How is he?"
"A little quiet," Canada answered, "But I can still hear him mutter every once in a while and he's got his music on so I think he's calm now. Earlier before I heard him screaming, I don't know what to do."
"I'm afraid that this war may be too much for him. Yao is heavily influencing this war so they have thes tortures. I'm afraid Alfred may have seen these." Canada's face looked terrified. Japan patted the the blond's arm. "I'll go talk to him."
Japan walked swiftly down the hall, following the music. He knocked on the door gently. "Alfred? It's me. Matthew called me over to see you. Are you feeling okay?" There wasn't a response, so he opened the door and stopped. He saw America only wearing a pair of tattered bell-bottoms, laying haphazardly on a beanbag with his feet on the bed. A sweet-sour smell lingered in the room and Japan found the source...a small joint in America's hand. Japan looked at him and saw that his face was dazed. His eyes bloodshot and watery, lids fluttering between wide open and half closed
"Whoa...the walls...are moving..." America muttered in amazement, his eyes scanning the room. Then his eyes met Japan's. "Kiku!"
"Alfred...?" Japan entered the room and closed the door. "What happened to you?" He finally noticed the bandages taking away the beauty of his body.
"Dude, don't ask me!" America giggled as he rolled off the beanbag onto the floor. He sat up on his knees with a goofy smile on his face. If it were any other time, Japan would've thought it to be cute, but right now, his lover wasn't himself. "I missed you, man."
Japan sat down beside him slowly. "I missed you too, Alfred." He eyed the joint in America's hand. "Why don't we put that thing out so we can talk?"
"What?" America gasped, "Why!"
"I want to talk to Alfred," Japan answered, "Not the drugs."
America's eyes widened. "Dude! I got the munchies! Do you have those little sticks?" Japan raised an eyebrow. "You know, those sticks with chocolate on them..."
"Pocky?" Japan responded hesitantly.
"Yeah!" America cheered, "You got some? I really really really want some!"
"I might have a box..."
"Oh my God give it to me!"
Japan watched his lover in worry and concern as America ate the pocky sticks. The drugs slowly began to wear off through the hours, so Japan stayed by him for when he would be completely sober. America's eyes slowly cleared up and the calmness that was there when high diminished and was replaced with horror. "Oh God!"
Japan quickly grabbed America's arms and pulled him close.
"All those people!" He sobbed, "There was no way to escape! We were trapped! She's a cruel cruel girl!" He shook from the hard sobs. Japan closed his eyes. Because of China, the northern Vietnam twin became cruel and sinister just like her older brother and Russia. He hoped that America wouldn't see those tortures...but it was unavoidable being over there for over five years to start with. "Why, Kiku! Why does this have to happen!"
"Watashi wa wakaranai." Japan muttered softly as he stroked America's hair. He really wanted to take away his pain, but didn't know how or what to do. He was just as lost as America was.
America lifted his head and met Japan's eyes. Japan noticed that anguish was still there, but pushed aside. "Kiku..."
"Hai?"
"Stay with me right now. Please. I need you to be by my side." America cupped Japan's chin and pulled him closer to a kiss. Japan felt his body melt against America. Very rarely did they share moments like this because they were still on a rocky relationship ever since the war, but when they did, it was a moment where Japan lost all rational thought. His small bubble of personal space...gone. His modesty...diminished. He was now just a man with needs and desires and only his America could bring that side of him out.
America kissed right below Japan's ear, listening to the little gasps and sighs. Usually they would end their passion right here...but America didn't want to stop. "Kiku..."
"Alfred," Japan whispered as he laid back into the beanbag. America hovered over him, kissing and nibbling his ear and neck. Japan's hands ran up and down America's bare body, avoiding the bandages. "Y-Your wounds..."
"I'm fine," America muttered, lifting his head to look at Japan. Those big brown eyes pushed away all his anger and depression that was beginning to settle in. He lowered his head and they kissed gently. America's fingers worked on unbuttoning Japan's shirt as he slowly kissed down his neck and to his chest. He felt Japan's fluttering heart and it always beat harder whenever he'd nip at his skin.
"Alfred...take me."
America stopped and looked at the writhing man before him. Those eyes were bright but dazed. Between the two of them, Japan always called the shots even if he was more submissive. America searched those eyes for any sign of hesitation...there weren't any.
***Deliver Us***
Prussia opened his eyes to the door opening in the jail cell. Russia stood there holding the keys. "You've been in there long enough. How many times do I have to throw you in there?"
"As many as it takes," Prussia growled, "I told you before, I will break down that wall with my bare hands if I must. Your empire will fall!"
Russia chuckled, "You're a feisty one aren't you?" He strode over to Prussia and grabbed his hair, making him look up. "This is your place! On your knees before me waiting for me to give you orders."
Prussia smirked his trademark smirk of awesome. "Should you be saying that to Yao? Not me? I'm sure you and I both know that I'd rather have somebody on their knees before me...not the other way around." The surprised face Russia gave him made him bust out laughing despite the agony in his ribs. "Oh God it hurts to laugh!" He keep laughing doubling over from the pain. Russia watched, his anger rising and Prussia could feel it. He managed to quiet down to a fit a small giggles. "Oh man that hurt, but it never felt so good!" He lifted his red eyes to meet Russia's violet eyes. "Aw, did I hit a tender spot? Was I not supposed to know that? You make it hard to not notice your thing with Yao."
Before Prussia could continue with his insulting, Russia backhanded him hard enough to knock him down on his side. Prussia grunted and spat out blood. "Fool...resistance is futile."
"Futile my ass," Prussia shouted, "I've been resisting for years! And I still resist!" Russia grabbed his shirt and pulled him up to my feet. "Germania unite! The Soviet will fall!"
"Shut it!" Russia yelled as he threw Prussia into the snow.
Prussia scrambled to his feet and ran after Russia only to run into the slammed door. He punched the door. "You will never take me down! You may have my home! But you never can take this awesome fighting spirit! I will reunited Germania!"
"Pipe down already, Gilbert," a rough agitated voice grumbled, "He won't come out until you create a stir of protests again."
"You really should protest, Rody." Gilbert said, "You really could be great help to me."
Austria stood up and walked over to him. "Come on, you look like you're going to fall over."
Prussia pushed away the arm offered to help him. "Help me? Ha! I don't need help, I'm just too awesome to let those beatings push me down to the dirty ground." He really wanted help, but he had to be strong. 'Matthew, I will break free, I promise.'
"Gilbert," a woman's voice called softly, "Just come on, we have food for you, you must be starving."
"Oh Elizaveta, how you toy with my heart so."
"Shut it, we all know about your boyfriend," Hungary snapped as he and Austria grabbed one of Prussia's hands and dragged him inside the building. A fire was burning, warming Prussia quite quickly. He could smell one of his favorite dishes from when he was a teen searching for Germany back when he was under the alias Holy Roman Empire. Hungary would always fix it for him whenever he would come home empty handed.
"When did you guys get the ingredients for this?" Prussia asked, "It's almost impossible now because of Ivan."
"Sorina found them," Austria answered as he dusted off his coat and fixed his glasses.
"That's right!" a loud woman's voice responded. Prussia turned and saw Romania standing there. Her long curly black hair up in a messy bun. She had on heavy eyeliner that contrasted well against her emerald green eyes and pale skin. She wore skin-tight military pants and a knee length red skirt over it. Her military boots reached mid-shin and looked quite mean to anybody she would kick. She wore a black sweater with a black corset over it. She crossed her arms. "Gilbert, welcome back. It's good to see somebody hasn't caved in yet like me."
Prussia smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, sure." He walked over to the table and sat down. He wince when a stab of pain ran through his chest, but he repressed it easily. Over the years, it has become easier to recover from the pain of his beatings. Most of the time he was numb. Ever since he saw Russia strike his beloved Canada, he seemed to have lost a bit of hope. But he kept his voice loud to keep the others from worrying about him. He was getting ready to give up and fade away, but there was something in him trying to keep him going...he knew the voice. He remembered...
***flashback***
Canada struggled against his bonds, pulling hard on the rope to no avail. "Gilbert..." He looked over and saw the man curled up, completely still, his eyes blank. "Gilbert! Don't you dare give up on me! I will beat you senseless when you get out if you quit now!"
Prussia looked at Canada and saw that same look that America always wore. Was it possible that the brothers really were twins. Canada's eyes were bright and determined despite the black eye swelling. His lips were pursed into a fine line and forming a determined smile. "Matthew, please stop. I don't want you to get hurt."
"I won't give up," Canada almost yelled, "It's my duty to be as awesome as the one I love no matter what!"
Prussia couldn't help but smile. His quiet timid little Canada was yelling about being awesome. It was so cute. He began to struggle against his binds and saw Canada's smile grow.
Russia walked into view and opened the jail cell. "Well well, I never would've thought Alfred's little brother was feisty. Then again, I never would've thought he would be into blindfolds and hair pulling." He took a few giant steps toward and grabbed Canada's arm, yanking him up.
Canada fought against him as Prussia yelled at Russia. "Wage es nicht ihn zu verletzen! Ich verde dich töten!"
Russia laughed as he dragged Canada out of the cell. The last things Prussia heard from Canada before he vanished always echoed in his mind. "Keep fighting, Gilbert! I believe in you! Battez-vous! Lutte pour la liberté! Je crois en toi!"
***end flashback***
Every day that he fought...every night he spend nursing his injuries...every moment of his waking life, those words echoed in his mind. He would fight still, nothing was going to kill him. As long as Canada's voice echoed in his heart, he would keep fighting. For freedom...for peace...for his loved ones.
***Deliver Us***
That chapter took me about 12 hours to finish including the 7 hours of sleep I had. I was planning on watching my Vietnam war movies like Platoon and Missing in Action to get an idea what happened in the war...but my dad has the MIA movies and I found out we didn't have Platoon on DVD. Oh well, I hope I captured the war scene pretty good.
I tried capturing Hippie America as close as I could. There aren't pictures of him like that out there for me to find so I went with the few movies I've seen. Much like the Civil War (which my vision of that is the same as Korea and Vietnam being split up into two people) America is torn between being a Hawk and being a Dove. But instead of making two different Alfreds (Poor Japan would be confused) I made him have split personality disorder in this time period. When he's in Vietnam fighting, he has the Hawk mode: ready to fight, gunho, ruthless, and tortured. Yes, even though we learn in history that the Viet Cong were quite ruthless to us...we were the same with several massacres and war crimes involving rape and slaughter. But when he's home, he's in Dove mode: tortured, drug usage, protesting, depressed and so on. Alfred is the veteran that was sent home because of losing a leg and he became a protester because of what he saw over there.
For the drug usage, I did a little research on marijuana and even asked a few people with that experience to get the physical characteristics right. Next chapter I will research on LSD and see how that one is. If anybody can help me with LSD (specifically Acid) go ahead and put in your input.
Yay! I left you hanging again with my Ameripan lime! I'll let your imagination wander on that one as well like I did with PruCan and GerIta. **evil laugh**
As you can see I added a new character. I've seen some sketches of Romania as a boy and girl and I've decided that Romania should be a female version of Prussia (epicness) But the clothing style I chose for her would make sense only because of frigging Van Helsing with Kate Beckinstale. I'm going to make Romania as the trendsetter for the world with her Gothic styles.
Now, for the Vietnam sisters. I couldn't find any names for them so I went and found them. North Vietnam's name is Yên which I meant the name to be ironic. It means 'peace' in sino-vietnamese. Sino-Vietnamese (in my words) is pretty much North Vietnam with heavy Chinese influence after the Sino-Vietnamese War. South Korea's name is Liên which means 'lotus' in Vietnamese. There was no reason for her name other than it was close to her sister's name and it sounded pretty.
Translations:
Moshimoshi?-Hello?
Watashi wa wakaranai.-I don't know.
Hai?-Yes?
Wage es nicht ihn zu verletzen! Ich verde dich töten!-Don't you dare hurt him! I will kill you!
Battez-vous! Lutte pour la liberté! Je crois en toi!-Fight! Fight for freedom! I believe in you!
