As Norway retrieved his things from the baggage claim, he glanced through the large glass windows of the airport. It was a good thing he'd beaten the weather here. It looked like snow near the mountains…
He was also glad to have gotten Canada's address from England beforehand, because his phone was out of battery. Typical first world problems…for his not-so-typical mission.
Nephews. He had nephews that he didn't even know about, and they'd both been sitting right across the meeting table from him for years. Denmark was absolutely over the hills with joy. He expects the others will be too when they finally learn about it, but Norway had his reservations still.
They had not gotten the opportunity to watch them grow. When the colony fell on hard times, Vinland disappeared. They'd assumed too quickly that she had been killed. That, along Erikson's tragic end, had Denmark declare it best they return home and forget the treacherous continent for good.
But she hadn't died, had she? She'd grown enough to bear children before she was gone. Leaving the twins alone and without their biological family. So both America and Canada ended up being raised by…other people. Natives and Englishmen and Frenchmen.
Norway didn't know how to react to that. Was it wrong to feel a little bit responsible even if almost a thousand years too late? And why did they not make this known sooner?
When the Nordic Nation finally got out of the airport, he breathed in, tasting the foreign-yet-distantly familiar crisp air. At least they'd taken the first step, even if in less than preferable circumstances.
It was a beautiful spring day somewhere in the northern United States. Canada and America were hunting together for the first time in years, rebuilding a relationship they'd both thought irreparable not too long ago.
The silence between them was comfortable, boots barely disturbing the rocks, roots, and twigs underfoot.
America stopped them with a hand, and pointed. An impressive white-tailed buck was grazing just up ahead.
Canada shouldered his rifle, aimed, and-
The creature's head and tail perked up. It'd heard something. The thing was off before the Northern Nation could pull the trigger.
America sniggered lightly as Canada berated himself for his rookie mistake-however unsure he was as to what that mistake had been, exactly.
"Where's it headed?" Canada inquired under his breath. His brother would know, after all.
"The-…" America trailed off, an odd expression on his face. "…Actually, this one's mine. Hold my gun."
"Wha-" Canada juggled the weapon briefly as it was shoved into his arms. He blinked in further confusion as America drew out his hunting knife and was gone.
For a long moment, Canada just stared at the section of brush that both the fleeing deer and his oddball of a brother had disappeared through. Then he sighed, put both rifle slings over his shoulder, and began to track them.
'Might as well see what he thinks he's doing.'
The trees soon receded, giving way to an idyllic meadow of white flowers still fresh and pristine in the first days of spring. He'd caught up just in time to see his America close on the deer at lightning speed, knife flashing and lips pulled back in a predatory grin that acted as an extreme contrast to their surroundings. The buck snorted and kicked back, but America was already in front of it, grabbing it by the antlers and fatally stabbing it with a vicious thrust of his knife, followed by a harsh twist.
Matthew looked away, however was unable to erase the image of bloodied white flowers. Or that strange glint in his sibling's eye as he surveyed the carcass. "If you're done, we should probably get back to the cabin soon if the meat's going to be at all usable."
America snapped back into reality, glancing between the bloodied knife in his hands, and the deceased deer. His expression turned sheepish. "Right. Let me just pack this up, first."
Night had fallen, the deer had been dressed, and their weapons were clean. Now it was just a matter of sharing a companionable silence huddled around the campfire. But for some reason, Canada was still inexplicably uneasy.
"You're staring at me."
Canada blinked, and then shrugged. "Sorry."
America just rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the fire, throwing things into it just to see what they would do. Canada resumed his observation of his brother, and how the fire played against his half-shadowed form.
When had his brother become such an enigma? True, it's been a long time since they'd truly spoken to each other. They'd both changed and grown in their own ways during the intervening years. Enough so that they were still getting used to each other again-trying to identify each other's boundaries, quirks, and tendencies.
But certain changes…certain changes Canada worried about.
Still emotionally closed. Not in any way that anyone would typically detect, but Canada had always been good at reading people. He knew when a smile wasn't real, and America's promise to be totally candid hadn't gone very far. Canada had seen almost from the beginning that something was bothering his brother, and that it was important enough to cross his mind almost every day. But despite everything Roosevelt and several others had done to help draw him out in the past months, he had no intention of revealing it.
And sometimes America would get this odd look. Something dark and unnatural that chilled Canada in a way that no northern winter ever could. It made him wonder if those years in isolation really had done something to his brother's mind.
"You're scaring me, now."
It was as though someone had taken the words right out of his mouth. Canada began to nod in agreement, before coming to himself and realizing who was talking. "O-oh…Sorry."
"You say that too much," Alfred decided with a chuckle. His gaze turned mockingly seductive, his voice overly sultry. "Like what you see?"
Canada snorted lightly, tossing a pebble at his twin. "You wish."
America laughed again.
Canada awoke abruptly to the sound of footsteps creaking on the wood floor just outside of his room.
'It's probably just someone going to the bathroom.'
Kumajirou abruptly raised his head, stared at the bedroom door, and began to growl.
The northern Nation immediately snapped up, sleepiness and irritation receding in favor of alarm and worry. There was only one reason Kuma would be growling right now.
Then he heard a very particular set of squeaks, indicating that this someone was going down the stairs. The knot forming in Canada's gut told him that it wasn't for a glass of water.
He swung his legs over the bed, stood up, and stepped into a pair of slippers all in one smooth movement. "Stay here," he ordered the bear tersely, leaving his door open behind him.
He crept down the stairs silently, ears straining to catch any other sounds that this person might make. He was rewarded with the rumble of his back sliding glass door opening.
Canada hurried to the kitchen, and then to his porch. "Wait, Alfred!"
The western Nation paid him no heed, making his way across the lightly snow-blanketed yard in a peculiarly graceless shamble.
He was going towards the shed.
Canada broke into a sprint. Yes, he'd alarmed and locked it, but that wouldn't stop Alfred from simply breaking the door down to get to the heavy and edged implements he undoubtedly had in mind. "Al, stop!"
America touched the shed door, and pulled on the handle. It didn't open. Then he raised his fist-
The northern Nation frantically tackled his brother to the wet ground. America's half-lidded eyes snapped open, fleeting crimson flashing across his irises before he grunted and bodily rolled his brother off of him. He sat up, and looked around, bleary blue eyes showing obvious confusion in the moonlight. "…What the hell?"
Canada released the breath he hadn't been aware of holding. His brother was okay…now. "You mean you don't know?"
"I don't." America stood with a yawn, helping his brother to his feet as well. "I last remember going to bed."
Canada briefly debated telling America what had happened, and what he was doing…but then decided against it. "You were sleepwalking. That's all."
"Oh." The wind whistled, causing America to shiver. The snow had made his clothes wet. "Weird, that's usually more your thing. Let's go back inside, then." He yawned loudly as he added, "I'm still tired."
Canada nodded, trying not to remember the contents of his dream before he'd woken up, and not panic at how terrifyingly close it'd come to disaster tonight. He'd have to inform the others in the morning.
America froze, the stick he'd been using to rouse the embers falling from his hands.
"Alfred?" Canada waved a hand in front of his face. "You alright?"
When the western Nation didn't immediately respond, Canada felt his worry heighten.
America's head and neck did this odd sort of twisting motion-like a snake, almost. "Go back to the cabin."
"Wha-"
"Go back to the cabin," America repeated insistently, twitching. "Lock the door, and stay there. I'll be back in the morning. Probably."
Canada stood, genuinely alarmed at his brother's sudden change in behavior. His hairs stood on end, his instincts suddenly screaming at him that something dangerous was nearby.
"Alfred," the northern Nation took a deep, composing breath, yet was unable to quell or even fully understand his body's reaction. "What's going on?"
America quickly doused the fire with a bucket of water, plunging them into darkness. "Quickly! There's not much time. I-I feel it…"
"…America?"
His only answer was a frantic set of retreating footsteps and rustling brush. America was gone, and oddly enough, so was Canada's gut feeling that something was about to go very wrong.
'Maybe that thing's following him?'
The woods were silent. No bugs, small animals, or even rustling leaves could be heard around him. It was as though the land itself waited with bated breath for things to pass, and hopefully do so harmlessly. Canada briefly wondered if he should take his brother's advice, and do the same.
But he couldn't, in good conscience, stand aside and let his brother deal with…whatever was out there. All he had was a hunting knife; immense strength would only go so far in the face of certain foes.
And Alfred had looked scared…really, really scared.
Canada wasn't going to let things lie as they were. He took up his rifle from where it leaned against a nearby log, and used the dim moonlight to track his brother for the second time so many hours.
America had been careless in his haste, leaving a very obvious trail. A broken twig here, a thrashed shrub there, even an occasional boot print.
Canada began to worry as he got farther from the cabin. America moved fast when he wanted to. What if he was too late for...whatever the hell was happening?
The violet-eyed Nation slowed when he spotted something lying among some destroyed plants-as though there'd been a struggle. The coppery sent of blood pervaded his nose as Canada stopped to inspect the thing.
It was a mountain lion-one of many that infested the area. Though one wouldn't know that from the awkward angles of its limbs, or its shredded torso.
Canada stood up and squeezed his eyes shut briefly to get that gruesome image out of his head. Good Lord, what could do this?
He kept moving, his trigger finger twitching occasionally against the side of his rifle. America was around here somewhere, he knew. The trail was getting fresher by the minute. But the thing that'd mutilated that lion was out here somewhere, too.
It wasn't until he glimpsed water that he spotted a human-looking shadow with a familiar cowlick facing off against another mountain lion by a small creek. There must've been a pride of them roaming about the area.
Canada was unable to call out before the creature snarled and pounced, which America answered with an equally feral snarl as he took the thing's jaws and forced them open wide enough to split its skull. Then he threw the weakly protesting lion to the ground, and began to brutally stab it repeatedly in the chest with his knife.
"Alfred!"
The American stopped at the sound of his brother's appalled voice, breathing heavily as he slowly stood up, and pried the knife from the dead mountain lion's ribcage.
Canada started forward. "What in God's name are you doing?"
America didn't answer, his blood-splattered form twitching in the moonlight. Canada searched his brother's features, looking for recognition, or realization, or anything even remotely familiar.
Then he stopped, and took a step back. Unease gnawed at him, telling him to get away, get away, GET AWAY.
Red eyes narrowed sharply, gleaming with madness and an eerie sort of Something Else that made Canada consider in the back of his mind that maybe shooting his brother might be the safer option, here.
A spasm wracked America's body as he took a step forward, knife gripped tightly in hand.
"No closer or I'll shoot!" Canada warned, refusing to let his voice shake as he took a step back. God, this shouldn't even be happening! "Something's…not right in your head, Al. Put the knife down so we can talk about it. Please."
America began to twitch again, and the knife fell to the ground with a soft thump when he doubled over. Canada's relief was premature, however, as the western Nation stopped, his lips pulling into a sadistic smirk as he straightened to his full height. He charged and knocked the gun from Canada's hands, pinning him to the ground.
'This isn't my brother,' Canada thought frantically as he began to struggle. 'This can't be my brother. My brother wouldn't do this.'
"A-Alfred!" He wrestled against the hands going for his neck, but America had the advantage of strength, and the knee on Canada's chest was making it hard to breathe. "Alfred, snap out of it!"
He saw an opening, and took it. He rolled, pushing his brother off and away from him as he lurched to his feet. America's teeth gnashed in anger as he snarled and charged again, single-mindedly determined to reacquire his victim. However Canada was ready for him this time, sidestepping and pushing him up against a tree. He then backhanded his disturbed brother across the face. Hard.
America twitched, briefly sagging against the rough bark of the tree. His eyes were blue again, however frantic. "Go away! I-I can't-" Another twitch. America gripped his head with a pained grunt. "Kill-no, don't-I-I…can't-"
Canada took his brother's shoulders. "You can stop this. You willstop this. Understand? Can you hear me?"
America pushed him away and shook his head violently, fighting it. "No-goawaydienofuck…"
"I'm right here," Canada said firmly.
The Western Nation shook, eyes flashing crimson, threatening to tip him back over the edge, promising violence for the one trying to make him stop.
"You don't need to do this, anymore." Canada risked a tight embrace, ignoring the smell of blood and exertion. "I'm right here."
America jolted abruptly at the touch, his rumbling growl petering out into a strained sort of sigh. They stayed like that for a long while, even as America quivered and tensed at random intervals, and sometimes even seemed close to losing himself again. Canada held tight, determined to keep his brother's mind from flying apart at the seams.
The sky was just beginning to lighten when America's body finally relaxed, his voice holding an entirely different kind of tension, now. "You can let go."
Canada did so. The twins stared at each other for a long, awkward moment.
"I-I'm sorry." America looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "You shouldn't have…had to deal with that."
"Nonsense," the northern Nation said. "You shouldn't have felt the need to keep it from me."
America stared. Canada bit back a sigh. He'd clearly been alone for far too long. "We're brothers, Alfred. Brothers help each other. Lend a hand or an ear when one of them has a problem."
Alfred just stared at him some more, unsure of what to say or how to respond. Canada could see that they had a long way to go before they could overcome almost a century of estrangement.
I'm sore as hell and I can't sleep. This winning combination essentially boils down to me writing. Which means sneaking some of that chocolate cake that mother just made...muahahahaha. Silver lining, amirite?
Thanks for the attention, guys! Review and tell me what you think of this chapter and the story in general, please? Please, please, please?
Later dudes. ^J^