Chapter 13
England stared as America –bloody, freaking America – raced out the door. In tears. America never cries, not ever. All motion in the room ceases, even for those who were fighting among each other. Everybody's eyes turned to look at him, the cause of the surprise. England doesn't even know what he did to push the youngest nation there over the edge.
"Well, Angleterre, you are going to go after Amérique, non?" France asked, breaking the silence that had settled in the still room. England barely heard the words. He was still staring at the door, like by some miracle America would walk back in and laugh about his big prank he had pulled.
"What?" England whispered it to himself, but in the quiet others heard.
"It is your faurt that America-san is crying-" Japan started, but was abruptly cut off by his Axis companion, Germany.
"So you vill make him come back, understand? Besides, you know him ze best," The German finished. England got up out of his seat and headed to the door, still in a trance from the previous events. It was a bit of a shock to find something being shoved into his hands.
"Ve, here you go! Un buon fascino di fortuna (A good luck charm)!" Italy said, natural happiness in his voice. England glanced down; in his hands was a white flag. If anyone besides Italy had given it to him, he would've been offended. But a white flag was a great gift since he received it from Italy, especially considering the fact that the Italian was usually running away from him. England gave a light chuckle.
"Thank you. Now I'm sure to have excellent luck with convincing America to come back," England thanked, slightest hint of sarcasm only in the second sentence.
"Sí, bueno suerte (Yes, good luck). You are going to need it." Spain added as England walked out the door. He could hear Romano with his usual swearing in three languages yelling at Spain. The farther England walked, the quieter the sounds behind him became, until he was walking in silence. Well, near silence. There was a noise that sounded like sobbing in the –wait, sobbing? England raced, following the noise. Eventually, he stopped in front of a small door. It couldn't have led to anything more than a closet, and for a single instant, England had the thought that it wasn't America he had heard. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. No, it couldn't be. If it was, then he wouldn't hear the whimpers from behind the door as well as he did. Somebody was crying behind that door. The first time England attempted to open it, he found he couldn't, because somebody had locked it. After quickly checking to see that no one else was there, England swiftly picked the lock, an old trick he had learned back when he was a privateer. England finally managed to open the door to a sight he wasn't expecting at all.
America was sitting with his knees hugged to his chest, head buried in his arms that were wrapped around his legs. At the sudden light, he looked up. His sky blue eyes had clouded into a stormy blue. Tear stains slid down his cheeks as more poured out. America pathetically tried to wipe the tears away from his just as pathetic spot on the floor. His bandages were probably only hanging on because of all the salt water spilt on them. England fought against two urges deep inside him that were conflicting at the sight. One part of him wanted to kneel down and hug him, like he used to when America was a colony. The other part wanted to just abandon America right there; that's what America did to him, why shouldn't he do it right back. When he saw what was under America's jacket sleeve, the part that wanted to comfort him won, and England kneeled down, so that, for the first time in a long while, they were the same height. Carefully, he pulled the crying nation into a hug.
"There, there," England soothed gently. He gently rubbed the younger's back, singing an old lullaby that he used to sing in times like this, and had a feeling of déjà vu, nostalgia from days long gone. Several minutes later found America's sobs turning into hiccups. And soon those hiccups became silence. England finally pulled away at that point and, grabbing the American by his shoulders, looked him in the eye. "Why were you crying?" England finally said. He still didn't know why America had even started.
"It's stupid," America muttered, struggling not to look his former caretaker in the eye. He could feel a slight blush of embarrassment on his face.
"So is half the things you say at these stupid meetings," England retorted, not noticing the blush. "I think you can trust me."
"I thought I could trust you with my notes, and look how that turned out," America stated, chuckling dryly. England wanted to laugh out loud with relief at this response. That's what he had gotten all worked up about? Some silly thing like that? England thought he had done something serious.
"Well then, I'm sorry," England said, standing up and offering a hand down to America.
"You don't mean it," America whispered under his breath. It was too quiet for England to hear. Even America could barely hear it. Disregarding his former guardian's hand, America pushed himself to his feet. He walked past England, out into the hall. "C'mon, let's go," he said, gesturing the action. America let the shorter nation pass him. He delayed for only a second, checking how well the bandages were holding up. He grew worried at the fact that they were missing, and prayed luck was on his side as he quickly fell into step next to England. He was about to make some crazy comment, when England cut him off.
"Don't bother," England said, dismissing America before he even got the chance to open his mouth, let alone speak. America briefly wondered how England could notice something like a mask, but not that he had hurt someone. That someone being America, of course. Although maybe England meant that America should focus on pulling himself together instead of what America thought he meant.
"Don't what?" America asked, pretending to be confused.
"Don't do that. Act like you're an idiot. Honestly…" England trailed off. He couldn't decide how he should finish the sentence. Honestly, I know you better than that felt like a lie; England knew he didn't really know America since when he was just a little colony. But did he know the figure next to him even back then? England couldn't even begin to imagine where the normal activity became an act, or if it was always just an act, or… England shook his head. He was thinking to hard about it. It could just be nothing. But those marks under America's jacket sleeve proved otherwise. Head spinning with questions that America was going to answer truthfully, the duo walked back into the room. Unfortunately, England would have to hope that he could remember them, since their reappearance had caused quite a stir in the room. From the way it looked, it could be considered a miracle that nothing had been broken. Yet. There was always a yet when it came to World Meetings and breaking stuff.
"Ve, you're okay now?" Italy asked, wrapping his atmosphere searching partner up in a hug, which startled the person being hugged slightly.
"Yes," America said, flashing his trademark Hollywood grin. England missed the grin America use to have when he was a colony. That was America's real smile. England knew that that grin was a fake, a façade. That's why he hated that grin. He hated it a lot.
Oh gosh, that was weird to write. I swear, it was so awkward to write this chapter. Anyway, the lullaby is Lullaby for a Stormy Night, because I think that England used to sing something like that to him, escpecially when it was raining and little, cute, colony America got scared. Umm, anyway... I needed to have the other countries speak in their own languages a little. I swear, I had to. And if you can guess at least two of the three languages Romano is swearing in correctly, you get a hug (I like to do these kinds of things for some reason). (Dodges another book) Reader! Didn't I tell you not to throw books at me! It was either you or Person, Reader. But where do you get these books, anyway? (Reader glares and begins to walk away) I'm sorry, I'm just messing with you! Don't leave! One more thing: Marzy, can you read my mind? I swear, I was thinking of something similar to what you said. You must be psychic. BIG ANNOUNCEMENT! AMERICA IS NOW OPEN FOR HUGS! (and I just fixed my caps lock). I don't really have anything to say, besides... I MUST FIND THE ATMOSPHERE WITH ITALY AND AMERICA! Adios, amigos! Ciao! See you soon!