Painful Remembrance

Hello, readers. I thank you for sticking with me for so long. I'm sorry about not updating in a while. School and life gets in the way and also, I had an artist's block….frickin artist block! Sorry about that. Anyway, I'm thinking of putting in a little AmeRus in. Keyword: Thinking. Let's begin.

"Listen, America. You are my colony and I control you. You will never leave me and you will always be mine." Britain looked down at his colony with contempt. The boy had disobeyed him again and failed to pay his taxes. He was leading a rebellion and Britain would not allow that.

"Yeah, right." The young nation looked up from where he was being held by a few British soldiers. "Just you watch, England. I'll get stronger and when I do, there will be payback for this. I will be free!"

Britain jumped as his mind snapped him awake. He felt a tear fall down his face. "Wha?" Disorientated, the nation looked around the room and noticed, with a horrible realization that he was held in a room with no windows. He also noticed that he was tied to a chair, arms and legs held to the structure with rope. The room was lit with a single light bulb, dangling from the ceiling by a cord.

"Looks like someone's awake."

The Brit's head looked up in alarm and saw Canada standing there, leaning against the door frame with a hockey stick. The Canadian met the Brit's eyes and grinned, innocently. The smile was so sweet, yet his posture was aggressive and his eyes a cold amethyst color. "What shall we do with him, dear brother?"

"What do you think?" America was leaning opposite from Canada, the two a perfect mirror in their stance.

"I don't know. You know we can't kill him and we know we can't let him go."

America snickered. "Why would we ever let him go?" His head turned to Britain the cold blue eyes flashed. "He's too precious to leave alone."

Britain knew there was no getting America back, so he targeted Canada. If he could talk some sense into the nation, then maybe he could have some chance of helping him and the world. "Canada. Listen to me-"

"Why?" Canada spat. "So you can get away and bomb me again. Did you know that that's kind of a coward's way of declaring war, bombing with no notice?" He turned to his neighboring nation and smiled. "This is a way to get revenge,"

"On everything that you did to us." America finished Canada's sentence. "Remember that time when you killed five unarmed citizens when they threw snowballs at your troops?"

Britain shivered when he remembered America's face when the young colony clutched the dead bodies, crying up to God, asking why he had done that.

"Remember," America said, pulling out a pistol, "when you shot one down yourself?" Not waiting for an answer, the American fired a shot into Britain's shoulder, causing the tea lover to cry out in pain and surprise.

Canada stepped up, holding his hockey stick. "Remember when you took me from my father? Remember that day?" He wacked Britian's head with the wooden weapon, causing the target to snap to the side and cry again.

America smiled. "Do you recall the time when you put those ridiculous taxes on imported goods such as tea and sent out tax collectors to take my peoples' money?" He bared his teeth in anger. "I remembered when we caught one. I remember pouring the tar on him myself."

Britain looked horrified for a moment and then confused when America laughed.

"Unfortunately, we didn't bring hot tar so this will have to do." Brining out a torch and turning it on, America put the flame to Britain's neck, relishing the scream it caused. He watched, view switching from the tortured man's neck to his face. Finally after what seemed like forever, America withdrew the torch and Britain's head limply dropped, exhausted from all the energy he put in from screaming.

Canada looked on with a bored expression and kept his gaze on Britain.

"…" Britain made some kind of noise with his mouth and the two brothers looked at each other, confused.

"What?" America asked loudly, trying to make out what his former caretaker just said. When the Brit couldn't form any intelligible words again, he turned to Canada. "Dude. Can you lift his head up for me? I can't hear a thing."

Canada nodded and wrenched said nation's head up, forcing a gasp of surprise to escape from the lips.

"I-I do…remember, A-America…" Britain whispered, voice hoarse and weak from screaming. "I re-member…everything I ever did…" He swallowed thickly. "Canada…I'm sorry for…for forcing you away from France…" He closed his eyes, a pained look evident. "America…I…I can't say I am ashamed about the Revolutionary War. I loved you and that was why I fought you. I didn't want you to leave."

"Why not?" America was suddenly interested in this sudden confession.

Britain swallowed again. He panted gently, the wounds weakening him. "I…didn't want you to get hurt."

America stepped back, disbelief evident in his eyes. "You thought I was weak! You thought I couldn't protect myself!" He smiled wickedly. "Well look at me now," he said softly. "Who's the one hurting, weak, powerless to stop the attacker? Who's the one who can't do anything to save himself?"

Canada waited to see what Britain had to say, standing by his brother with a look of boredom. He wanted to see Britain beg for mercy or death or something sweet like that. He wasn't seeing any of that. "I'm bored," he sighed. "I'm going to see what Russia's up to."

America looked over his shoulder and watched Canada head for the stairs. "I'll come with you, bro. It's time to make plans to take over those neutral nations. Ha ha. Neutrality. They won't see it coming." He headed to the stairs behind Canada and closed the door behind him.

Britain watched them and waited to hear the automatic lock activate. When he did, the adrenaline petered out and the pain washed over him in waves. It was as if his pain was tides in Canada, low while the brothers were here and then suddenly high when they left. Britain gritted his teeth and let out a strangled gasp. Damn it. Why does this always happen? Why do nations build empires and then have them fail in the end?

Sorry. Suckish ending. I'm sorry. I may put this story on hiatus. Anyway, if not, we may see Switzerland. I don't know. Maybe Japan will get hit…J Sorry if this is bad. If you're a Sherlock fan, I will be posting a story online probably shortly. It may not have originality, I mean, it is a slave fic, but a nice one. No slash or anything…maybe. So if you're interested, you should check it out. I'm wondering if I should maybe continue it or not. I'll put it up to see what the populace thinks. Thank you again for sticking with me. This is FlamboyantLollipop signing out. Until next time.