A/N: I know, it's been a while. Life got in the way.
Uh… BTW, I'll probably be busy for a few more months, so odds are, there won't be any chapter for that long. 3-5 months, I believe.
So, I thought I could leave you a YT playlist to keep you lot busy? I've been building this playlist to keep track of all the things that inspire me to write this as well as anything I find interesting or important information, as well as whatever I find funny or thought-provoking on these cultural/political/social matters, along with some difficult and unpopular opinions that I don't necessarily hold, but still found interesting in a way, food for thought.
So if you want, you can browse through it all you want. Just look up |Culture War by MayFlower Ann| on YouTube (UNLESS you're from the UK - I don't know the age restriction or if 'the law' being implemented to its full extent, but someone could get ARRESTED for up to 15 years for watching too much of the stuff I have to offer in there - sorry, bobbies have arrested around a thousand people for 'hate speech' so yeah it's probably not too far off the realm of reality, your gov't is too Orwellian, youallletthishappen), it should have enough content to keep anyone busy for a quite a few months. Yes, I am aware of how pretty much shameless this is. But you're welcome to just ignore it, so yay, freedom.
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Chapter 26
Sharing & Timing
Near Melbourne (UTC +10) 00:27 a.m.
"This is really on short notice, you know? Just why is this necessary?" Australia grimaced, phone in between his ear and shoulder while his hands were busy.
"Ouch…" The little girl flinched, but remained sitting on the stool in front where he sat on the couch.
Australia winced as he tried to properly do her hair. Little Wy, not much older than a toddler in appearance, just huffed and crossed her arms. He couldn't see her expression, but he guessed she looked at least somewhat bored.
Australia focused on his conversation again. "What was that?"
"I said I have my reasons… I just think it would be better if we moved this to dad's place instead of here." America explained on the other end of the line and he sounded rather sheepish.
Australia sighed. "Look, Yankee, I can't just not give dad a reason for that? You know how persnickety he gets when you change plans without explaining." He clarified as he tried once again to warp the ribbon with a different technique. Wy titled her head to the side to make it easier and Australia mouthed a 'thank you'.
There was an over-exaggerated sigh on the other side. "Okay, fiiine. It's just that… my boss and I aren't really getting along right now, so…"
Australia stopped and blinked in surprise. "Crikey, really? What happened?" Only then he continued.
"It's Election stuff… There's this candidate he doesn't like and he thinks- really thinks I'm about to endorse him on live TV or something. I'm literally not allowed to put my cards on anyone, ever!"
"Sucks to be you, mate."
"Bite me."
Australia snickered, finally finishing his task with a last pull. It was a bit sloppy, but it looked fine. Wy turned to pick up the mirror next to him. His hand now free, he picked the phone directly. "Okay, alright, I'll ask dad. I'm sure he can sort a good place in no time. Is Canada coming with you?"
"Yeah, we're spending a day or two here first."
"Why can't you come here? I'd be happy to have you lot again."
"Because your house is a terrifying menagerie!"
"It's not that bad."
"Giant spiders…!"
"Ah… Fair enough." Wuss.
"Anyway, thanks for the favor, we're even." There was a mild pause. "For that last favor you asked."
Australia rolled his eyes. "Okay, we're squared. No worries."
"Yeah, see ya in a few days!" After the cheerful farewell, the line went dead and Australia sighed, putting the phone down.
"So, how is it?" He asked.
Wy had sat quietly until his phone call was done, had stared for a few seconds at her reflection again, then lowered the mirror with a sigh. Australia fidgeted on the spot.
"It… looks okay, daddy." She tried smiling, but anyone could see it was fake.
The hair was indeed a mess, who was he kidding? Australia's posture crumbled and he fell back on the couch with a slouch, letting out a soft whine.
Wy patted his knee. "You'll get it right… One day." She stood and walked outside, already used to his disastrous attempts. She didn't undo the tiny tragedy that was her hairdo, but he's sure she just didn't want to offend.
Australia stood after glaring at the ceiling. He better make some dinner. That was at least something he could do decently enough. Later he'd have another call to make.
However, first, he went up to the doorway and leaned against the frame, the doors were wide open, the big yard was illuminated by the lights of his house, along with the moon above them. He could see Wy joining her brother Hutt, who had been playing catch with a wild dog as he browsed on his new phone.
That kid was his oldest, and Australia had him for a little more than three decades now and he hadn't grown past the physical age of a 10-year old boy. He wasn't sure what to do when he found him, so he had been a bit distant, all while always letting him know who was in charge, but still trying to always be cool and likable.
The little girl, though… He's only known about her for 10 months now, she was a little older than a year, so it was no wonder she was so small.
He's never taken care of a little girl, though. She wasn't like Hutt. It was different to him in a way, and it was a bit nerve-wracking, to say the least. He usually found himself trying to actually be a good father instead of a boss and caretaker, hoping she wouldn't become so independent that she didn't need him around at all.
He's heard fathers tended to be more protective of little girls.
Although… Child-Nation weren't like human children. They were naturally independent. Australia knows his own father spent many years on his own with no adult supervision whatsoever, in the woods, with dangerous animals.
He was born knowing instinctively how to survive through that vulnerable stage of his life.
He guessed they weren't made to need a caretaker, which naturally made him feel that his attempts at raising Wy were completely meaningless, if not vain on his part.
Australia ruffled his hair, watching as Hutt and Wy began to argue about something, probably about who would get to throw the ball next, and then watched with a deadpan as it escalated.
Tiny Wy was no match to Hutt and it soon turned into a small brawl where he easily immobilized the girl by sitting on her back, and she thrashed and floundered while yelling for Hutt to get off, a demand which he casually ignored with a smug smile as he threw the ball for the dog to catch again.
Australia chortled. Some soft humans would probably call it abuse or something, but for Nations, ruff play was pretty normal. Hutt was incredibly tame for his age, to be honest. Australia remembers doing much worse to New Zealand back when they were children living with their father.
"Daddyyy! Help meeee!" Came the distressed cry.
Australia grinned brightly, clapping lightly to get their attention. "Alright, you two, that's enough play for now." He went to separate the two and save his little girl.
He'd be spending these last few days enjoying some peace and quiet with his kids.
After all, this reunion would be the first time the rest of his family met Wy… He was hoping this calm family time would make up for whatever happened then.
Maryland – Near Washington D.C (-4 UTC) 10:35 a.m.
America tipped his old red cap lower, then placed his phone back in his jacket's pocket, opening the door of the car he'd parked just in front of the airport. He didn't want to stand in public for too long these days, but he could already sense his brother's presence approaching, so he went around and leaned against the door, facing the airport entrance.
Just in time, the automatic doors opened. America waited for him to cross the road.
There was Canada, with so little disguise. His natural tendency to disappear played to his advantage and he only had his hair tied and wore a simple T-shirt as well, despite the fact that it wasn't that hot, America himself wore his jacket as usual. But Canada was awfully sensitive to heat…
Besides that, any Nation had that same tendency to be unnoticeable, but Canada's was seemingly hiked up to 11 and he could virtually become invisible to humans at will, which was a useful power to have, even if he couldn't quite control it when young.
Canada smiled tiredly, adjusting the backpack he was carrying. "Thanks for coming to pick me up, brother."
America grinned back. "It's no problem. I'm glad you could make it." They exchanged quick bro handshakes and an even quicker hug. "Come on. I don't wanna stay here too long." America wasted no more time and went over to the other side.
"Back with this old one?" Canada asked in amusement, opening the door and sitting inside, referring to the fact that America was back to an older car model.
America was already beside him, turning the key. "Yep, I figured it wouldn't look good if I cruised around on brand new Sports all the time. I'll just look like a shallow snob. Guess I won't be retiring this baby just yet!"
"She's still running well? It's been more than a decade!"
He sounded impressed, so America puffed up with some pride in his handiwork.
"It's fine, I'm a great mechanic." America waved him off, opening the windows so he could lean his arm out while maneuvering his way out of the airport. It was indeed fine. America usually kept a car for as long as possible, since he usually got a bit attached, but he always had to switch at some point. She looked great for her age, but he was glad to keep her for some extra time.
Canada relaxed on his seat, having placed his backpack behind his seat with his usual tidy movements. "Well, anyway, did you manage to switch locations?"
"I did!" America exclaimed, but quieted down quickly, sheepishly. "Uh, well, I'm trusting Aussie will manage to convince dad… I'm sure he will, so either way, consider it done!"
Canada gave him a stern 'mom-look'. "You didn't talk to him yourself? How long will you be avoiding him?"
America huffed. "I'm not avoiding him, I just thought it would be awkward to talk now. I'll sort this out once I'm in front of him. For now, this is less risky." America certainly couldn't wait to shove some truths on the man's face, but it would be better if they were face to face. At least then, they'd be able to sort things out with their fists if necessary.
"The risk being…?"
"Of getting into an argument, and then we're not switching locations, which means we would have to have our little pow-wow here, where my boss can try and spy on me!" America explained with fake cheeriness.
"Why would he…?"
America rolled his eyes with exasperation. "He thinks I'm plotting behind his back."
Canada nodded in understanding after a second. "Well…Why don't we just go to Australia's ranch then? It was great last time, if a little too hot… But still great." He gave him a questioning look.
America winced. "Did you forget what happened last time…?!" He visibly shivered. "I don't want to find another giant spider crawling on my bed again…!" No giant bugs. Since that little debacle, he's been dreading the next visit. It was offensive enough that he didn't have any AC, but giant spiders he really couldn't handle.
That meant, if he could avoid it, like this time, he would. So he needed a new place. It couldn't be at Canada's place, since he only had one small house – being the humble one in the family – where it's usually too cold to live… or too cold for America at least.
That left the British Isles as his best spot at the moment. Either their uncles' places or their father's.
"Ooh… It was a big spider…" Canada then couldn't handle the memory, it seems, and proceeded to laugh in that soft manner of his. "You glued yourself to the fan on the ceiling…!"
"That wasn't funny!"
"I'm surprised it didn't fall off with your weight."
"Hey, hey, I-I'm not that heavy…!"
"Don't be like that, I didn't call you fat or anything…!" Canada continued to laugh, although he tried to keep it quiet.
"…I'm starting to regret inviting you here."
"No backsies."
"You tundra-dwelling prick."
"Beach-dwelling hoser."
Just as America stopped at a traffic light, they turned to glare at each other for a few brief moments, then burst out laughing.
"Nice, brother…!" Canada covered his mouth in an attempt to calm down.
America grinned. He hadn't actually seen his brother in a while… He was supposed to have visited him after the Meeting, but considering how busy he'd been right after it, with his own image to craft and his own people to talk to, he ended up using his encrypted server to send an untraceable message instead. It was lazy, in a way, but easier…
He didn't like using that server so often, afraid of his government getting suspicious of his supposed lack of activity…
Then the lights were green again and they were off once more. "Okay, we'll be arriving at my D.C. place in a little less than an hour." America began. "So, how have you been doing since we last spoke? Media treating you okay?"
Canada seemed to pause at the question, leaning way too far back into seat. "They're… fine. There isn't a lot of dirt they can pin on me so quickly. Although people online are less subtle about wanting to find something."
"You tell me." America sighed dramatically. "I'm in some dude's 'suspected white supremacist' list on Twitter now. Oh boo."
"Funny, so am I…" Canada mumbled. "When did I ever do anything to deserve that…?"
"Reason need not apply." America shrugged. "I'm getting more and more tired of this new lifestyle…" America felt that he's never quite appreciated anonymity as he should. Now he lost it… Odds are, life would never be the same, and while he could adapt and while he knew he could deal with this… he wasn't sure how others were coping internally.
If someone like him was having some trouble, then…
Someone like Canada must be miserable inside, even though he didn't quite show it – until then. Case in point, Canada sighed melancholy at his words, head turning to the window to watch the passing scenery, his mood sobering with the topic.
America tapped the steering wheel, glancing at him worriedly. "…Things are a bit more complicated for you, I'm guessing."
Canada kept staring through the glass. A few seconds of silence passed. "I'm… not like you. I can't show up for an interview… I can't make people like me through a broadcast… If they're not my citizens in front of me, then I can only rely on my own personality, and…" The words were suddenly stuck and he said no more.
America frowned. Canada was… quieter. Subdued, usually. He didn't like conflict and he certainly didn't like being the center of attention like this. Relying on the fact that he's a Nation always helped him get along with his people, but he wasn't terribly charismatic with strangers who didn't naturally felt at ease for being his citizen. No one could tell through broadcasting.
Canada has always expressed a certain fear of speaking to crowds, but he never had to face that before. How was he going to deal with so many eyes on him, judging, asking questions, waiting for him to make any mistake?
So America was worried, of course. Canada was, for all intents on purposes, his twin brother, they've gone through a lot together, so he wanted to help. His brother needed someone to talk to who actually understood what he was feeling.
America was more than glad to help. But he could let neither American nor Canadian citizens notice that he was doing such things.
People would think Canada relied on him or needed his help. It would only hurt his brother in the long run. For now, they're just brothers hanging out. America didn't want his brother to be perceived as weak and in need of emotional support…
No human feels pride in a weak Nation.
Some online communities were starting to compare Nations, wishing they could have this or that Nation instead. Some were saying they wanted to move out and be another Nation's citizen. Canada certainly didn't need to hear any of his own citizens saying he wasn't good enough for them. Or maybe Canada already knew, and had no confidence to speak for himself in public and convince them otherwise…
If it felt like a slap in the face for America, it sure as hell would feel like a punch in the gut to Canada.
Beyond that… America didn't want his people to think he was a controlling brother who didn't even let Canada deal with his own problems without butting in like a perfect busy-body.
They stopped at the last traffic light before getting into a bigger highway that would take them straight to D.C., through a path that left the bigger city behind until they got to the capital in a little while.
Canada seemed to be mulling over something. "Anything in your mind now?" America wondered as he watched other cars pass by.
"…Well…" Canada began with hesitation, but then nodded with some more firmness as America drove forward. "I have this psychologist-"
America pressed the break by accident, making them lurch a bit forward. "What?!" Luckily, there was no one behind his car close enough to honk at this, so after a second of panic, he quickly accelerated back to normal speed, all while trying not to sound too weirded out. "You have… a shrink?! Just… why?"
"Don't judge." Canada rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "I just felt like I needed someone to talk to…"
America turned to him a bit slowly, as if brusque movements would make Canada jump off the car. "Who hires a shrink, just because they want to talk…? Why couldn't you, I dunno, talk to me? We're brothers, right?" He felt a bit hurt… Didn't his brother trust him enough to even talk…?
Canada seemed to wither on his seat, leaning away from America uncomfortably. "I couldn't talk to you… My personal problems are my business."
"And the shrink's as well…" America sighed and raised a hand. "Okay, why are you telling me this…?"
Canada intertwined his fingers over his lap. "I've been thinking about what I could do, so people will feel more at ease with me… existing and all." Canada winced, speech speeding up as he felt more nervous. "I thought… maybe I could let Dr. Preston talk about some of the things I told him and make a case for me. Maybe then people would see I have problems too and see that I'm not that different from any human… I thought… it was a good plan…"
America narrowed his eyes, staring ahead at the speeding road passing by as he thought. He shouldn't be so nervous, unless it involved him, so… "What did you tell this guy about me?"
"Nothing much, just…"
"Just what?"
Canada recoiled, his tone a nervous higher pitch with a hesitant smile, trying to weasel his way out of the corner America put him in. "Uh… I…"
Of course, he said something. There was definitely something about him in there, and he didn't like it. "You can't go out talking about these things!" America glanced at him with a heated stare. "It could really damage my image! And I can't have that now!"
"It's nothing bad, I don't think you need to concern yourself with it…"
"Oh, yeah?" America rolled his eyes. "Did you lie then? Did you say I was a great brother and all?"
"I kinda said you were…" Canada took a deep breath. "a spoiled and mean kid…"
America fumed on the spot, keeping his tone low. "I don't need my people to know that." Not with the media looking for any dirt on him. America knows he wasn't exactly a good brother to Canada, especially when England brought him in. He's proud to say he's grown and changed a lot from those days, but something like that could really do some damage to the good image he's carefully trying to build.
"I didn't say it like that. Just that dad paid a lot more attention to you and that you didn't like me very much… It's not so bad."
He knew they would latch on to absolutely anything they could get their hands on. He had to hope that at least his family would put up a decent word. The last thing those vultures could know was how much he'd wronged his own brother in the past. They already guessed enough with 1812.
"I don't like this." America sighed deeply. "If you wanna let your people know some stuff about you, fine, but leave me out of it."
"It would look like I'm hiding something and it would be suspicious, don't you think?"
"Then do something else."
"Like what?"
America shrugged. "Just talk to people you're close to. You got the email, didn't you? Get into contact with people."
"I did receive it. It's just… I don't usually keep in touch… I think it would be awkward, and it would look like I just want favors…"
America threw his hands up in exasperation, making an annoyed sound before focusing on the street again.
Canada shifted on his seat. "…Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything here…"
America didn't respond right away. After a few seconds, he exhaled tiredly. "Let's forget about this for now. I don't wanna fight here."
"…Yeah."
After that, they remained silent, alone with their own thoughts.
'Great way to start the weekend, stupid.' America thought, feeling like his brother was thinking the exact same thing.
"You shouldn't be doing this… Mister England said not to touch his things." Canada spoke softly, clutching his small stuffed bear. He kept his head down, staring at the grass beneath his feet.
His new 'brother' scoffed, continuing to fiddle with the pistol he had taken from his father's study. The man wasn't around to see it. "It's fine! I'll put it back once I'm done." He grinned, waving the weapon carelessly.
"That's loaded; stop pointing it at me…"
"I'm not going to shoot you, calm down." America pointed it at the target he set up at the tree with a dramatic and excited flair. "Dad said not to touch the trigger until you're ready to use it." The target was on one of the many trees circling the clearing their house was in.
Canada sighed, taking a step back. Even if England showed up right then and caught America in the act, he wouldn't get much more than a stern talking.
America aimed with comical focus, tongue sticking out and all, then pulled the trigger. Canada twitched harshly at the sound. Birds flew in fright at the noise, the sound echoed all around, especially in his head. "Ha!" America examined the target from a distance for a few seconds before grinning brightly. "Yes!" He threw his arms up in delight, laughing loudly. "I'm so good at this! Did you see that? So close!"
It hit relatively close to the center, which Canada expected in a way. Mister England had a good aim as well…
"Hey, why don't you try?" America offered nonchalantly, holding the pistol by the barrel and offering it to him. Canada gasped and stepped away, shaking his head. If he were the one caught taking things without permission, he's sure the punishment would be much more severe. America certainly wouldn't admit he was the one who took it to save his 'brother's' skin.
Besides… "…Je n'aime pas ça…" He didn't like these weapons…
America had shrugged at his refusal, but glanced at him with a quizzical look when hearing the words. "You're not supposed to be speaking French, you know?" He walked back to the tree stump behind them, where he'd left the reloading gear and bullets.
All taken without permission.
Canada pouted but preferred to remain quiet.
…French was all he had left of his old life, why couldn't he speak it every now and then…?
America suddenly snickered as he went through the process of reloading the weapon. "You know, dad said the French are a bunch of frog people." There was no other reason to say this, other than poking fun at him. Sometimes he felt like his new brother really didn't like him…
Canada's brows tilted upwards and he clutched the bear tighter. "I'm not a frog." He stated petulantly.
America smiled when he turned to him. One might mistake it as well-intentioned kindness in his expression. Canada could only see mocking pity with a forced shrug. "Well, maybe if you stop speaking French you won't turn into a frog like your old dad. How about that?"
Canada's expression pinched and he turned away, sniffing.
" …Crybaby." America went back to aiming, seemingly not caring about the emotional blow thrown.
No one in this new place ever cared. Mister England didn't care about him and America hated him.
He wanted to go home.
He wanted to see his father again…
.
Canada blinked, his thoughts back in reality. He focused again on his task, which was, filling the car's tank with gas.
His talk with his brother certainly brought some memories back. America liked to pretend to be innocent back then, but he was mean when he wanted to be. Canada learned quickly to be quiet and avoid drawing England's attention whenever he was around, because America hated sharing that attention. So avoiding that nasty side of him hinged on being invisible.
Out of sight, out of mind. As long as he kept that, America would tolerate him, sometimes even be nice. But he would always be… territorial.
England put him in the same room as America at first, wanting them to get along. America tried everything to convince the man to not do it, but England wouldn't budge on the matter and he easily got him to quiet down and accept it. The room was his territory, but so was the house, and as petty revenge, America kicked him out whenever England wasn't around.
For months.
Going to the town for help was useless, since people could hardly see him. But that was fine, Canada could survive with a bow and arrow in the woods on his own, he was okay with that…That was just one of the many hardships caused by his brother's difficult temper and he would eventually get used to them.
The list of America's jealousy fits was pretty long. Like one lesson at a time.
So from being taken from France by England, to having to adapt to America, to then being sent back to his homeland solely because of America's fight for independence, Canada's childhood was a difficult time for him.
America would, of course, grow up and leave that aspect of his personality behind, mature like anyone else, but Canada certainly didn't believe that had happened by 1812 – the reason why Canada didn't believe a damn word that came out of his brother's mouth back then. Supposedly, he wanted to help him, free him from England like he himself had done, but Canada knew better.
That was just an excuse.
There was no England to keep him on a leash, so he lost control and was just stretching his boundaries, settling. Canada was wise enough at that point to push him back, and luckily, Mexico was too, so he finally settled comfortably once his neighbors established their boundaries. Mexico wasn't exactly capable of avoiding the losses – England certainly helped Canada avoid that – and strangely enough, America found a new brother, someone he was willing to share the land with.
Canada didn't think that would ever last, and he was right. All he could do was watch from the sidelines, with that tiny spec of vengefulness in the back of his mind, wondering if his dear old 'brother' would get himself killed by his own inability to share territory.
Why did he always focus so much on his brother…? There was much more to his life than all that happened between them, but for some reason, he kept coming back to that.
His thoughts swiveled back to himself, his own problems, and his previous plan. Would people feel even the slightest bit sympathetic? Would they feel pity? Or not care? Was it a bad idea, to show weakness to his own people? He didn't much care what other non-citizens thought, but his own people's thoughts mattered.
Did he want to be respected for his ability and strength to defend them, or did he want them to understand he wasn't so different, that his emotions were as real as anybody's? Could he have both…?
It's quite possible Dr. Preston could somehow paint a case for both; the man was very articulate with words… Canada found it easier to understand his own issues with someone's help, but it certainly helped when said person was so good at rooting them out and analyzing them in a cohesive manner. He really wanted this to be the case for anyone who heard what the man had to say of him, for everything to turn out okay…
But disappointing at least one citizen, who's to say thousands, or millions, was a bit too inevitable.
Shaking his head, Canada took the pump off, having filled the tank to its near full-capacity, and looked around the gas station. It wasn't so full, but he inevitably focused on his brother on the other side of the vehicle, now arguing with someone. Canada hadn't noticed, busy with his own thoughts as he was, but it just sounded like his brother was being petty and childish again.
Canada never understood his urge to mess with his own people. He didn't find it fun to confuse his citizens for kicks or argue with them… Pettiness and childishness were always part of his brother's personality, although they rarely reared their heads into the light these days, and even when they did, it's never to be really mean.
A stark change from when they were children.
So he watched with a tranquil posture, only moving to place the gas pump back in its place.
"It's just a hat, man." America sounded very bewildered, adjusting his cap over his head.
The kid, near late teens, in front of him seemed frustrated, taking a step back, closing his eyes, breathing in, raising his hands in amity as if trying to calm down and starting his explanation all over again. "I know. It's just that… y-you wearing a hat that looks exactly like that other one, it's like you're sending a message-"
"What message…?!"
"a-and I'm sorry, I don't think it's right- The president said you wouldn't get involved with the Elections-"
America shook his head, still seemingly befuddled, but Canada could see the sheer amusement. "…It's just a red hat. I bought it, like, five years ago."
"Y-Yeah, but it looks like that other hat, people will think you're endorsing a candidate!"
"Because of a hat that looks like another hat? I'm not allowed to wear an old hat I like because someone decided to put a campaign slogan on a similar one?"
"I-I get what you're saying, but I-I think you should be careful with what you do in public-"
"I can't wear a red hat anymore, because it might send an imaginary message, because of another red hat!" America turned to Canada. "I can't be the crazy one here, right?"
Canada shook his head with an easy smile. "I'm not getting involved with this."
The kid turned to him, as if seeing him for the first time. He probably was. "Where d-"
"He was there the whole time." America waved him off and continued with a slower pace. "I'm not going to pick what I wear based on what paranoid people might think. There's no 'in between the lines', no 'coded messages', you're being very unreasonable."
Canada glanced to the side discretely, saw someone recording this, and sighed with a long roll of his eyes. Great.
"I don't think I am…"
"I think you are. It's just a hat…!" America repeated, as if saying it again would somehow bring more light into the problem. "Endorsement is verbal! Not wearing a hat to send any 'coded messages'!"
As if suddenly noticing he was being laughed at, the kid let his face fall into his open palms, groaning. Dealing with America's subversiveness could be very tiring.
America apparently took some pity to that and sighed. "Okay, okay, look," He said, still amused. "I get what you're feeling, really do, but you're seeing things where there are none."
"If you understand, then how can you say I'm seeing things?" The boy challenged, crossing his arms.
"Because I'm also neurotic and paranoid, just about other different things, so I know the feeling." America droned back, lightly pushing the reluctant boy by the shoulder in another direction.
"My friends would agree with me…"
"Go make other friends, then." America sent him off – and he went with an exasperated sigh – then turned back to Canada, pointing behind him with a thumb. "I'm not the crazy one."
That poor kid was so tired now.
"No, you're not." Canada shook his head, now amused. He's glad at least something happened to put out the frigid mood between the two of them. America seemed much calmer. Canada went back and forth with darker thoughts before, but pushed that aside now that there was something else to do.
Both were back inside and soon on their way, now just a few minutes away from the apartment America lived in.
"Seriously." America began as he navigated around D.C. with ease. "If this is going to be a recurring thing, then fuck whoever revealed us. Really threw us under the bus…"
Canada raised an eyebrow. "You looked like you were having fun."
"I was! But still! If people bother me every single time I go out in public, it's going to get really annoying really quickly…!"
"Well, you're already the most famous Nation in the world, at least in the West side with how active you are. I thought you had adapted that quickly."
America shrugged uncomfortably. "Don't say that. I'm not okay with this. Being treated like a celebrity really rubs me the wrong way sometimes. A lot of people in my apartment building are like that. Wanting to shake hands or ask questions or whatever, and I like their enthusiasm, really do, but…" America huffed when not finding the right way to explain it.
"…Does it feel like you're just not made for this?" Canada turned just enough to watch his reaction from the corner of his eyes.
"Huh? Made for… What, for people to know we exist?"
Canada stopped to think, then nodded. "Maybe we are made to be anonymous, out of sight and out of mind for the majority. Maybe that's what's making you so uncomfortable? Too many people with their attention on you all over your country?" Canada had a hunch sometimes, that this was pretty much what he felt whenever he made it to national news.
Now America raised an eyebrow. "You think we can really feel all of that? With the distance?"
"Why not?"
"I can't even tell when someone's crossing my border from here, how could I tell if people are paying too much attention to me all over the country?"
"Just the sheer number. 300 million was it?"
"325, actually. I still can't tell what people are feeling that many miles away. And if I can't tell what the feeling is, then how could you tell? You just got 30 in a much sparser space."
"35." He corrected without thinking.
"Doesn't change what I said."
Canada sighed tiredly, muttering. "I'm just brainstorming." Personally, Canada thought it made sense. America did say in the e-mail that all the European Nations were in a worse mood than usual, all very ornery. They live in smaller countries, with tight populations closer to them. But then again, they might also just be worried about their future… "Do you have any ideas?"
"Nope. Too busy to think about it. If I'm not talking to people during the day, I'm working or reading at night, depending on my mood. It's been weird lately, though…"
"Have you been having mood swings?"
America hummed, still half focused on his driving, shrugging. "Maybe. Who knows? I normally have no problem following my schedule for months, but some nights now, I don't feel like doing what I normally do. I just feel a bit like…"
"Anxious?"
"I guess…"
"Like your nerves are being fried?" Canada himself certainly felt that way whenever there was the slightest bit of public attention on him.
"…Are you my shrink now?" He would take that as a 'maybe'.
Well, he did say people in his apartment were paying too much attention to him. Humans don't really notice Nations that easily, but when they do, their attention can be sensed by their Nation. Who's to say it doesn't happen through walls and distance as well? And who's to say that sensor firing off constantly from multiple sources wouldn't be aggravating and mind-numbing? Canada puts another point for his theory. "Do you read what people are saying online?"
America raised an eyebrow, but apparently decided to continue to play along. "Occasionally. Doesn't bother me too much, there's plenty who like me. I'm hoping to keep it that way." He glanced at Canada with a suspicious stare.
"Not that now…"
"…Okay, sorry." America shook his head with a sigh. "Anyway, we're here. Don't go invisible on me, alright? I'd rather not walk up there on my own."
"Hm?" Canada blinked in confusion, but as soon as they turned the corner, he found out what his brother was so worried about.
When America had said people in his apartment were paying him a little much attention, Canada didn't think it would be this… enthusiastic around there. The street was a bit crowded and America had to slow down.
There were two sets of people, it seemed, separated by police. One on the sidewalk in front of the apartment building, and the other on the other side of the street. It was clear to see where the two Nations would be unwelcome, judging by signs and mean postures. He could see most ages of both genders on either side. The pro-Nation side, however, seemed infinitely cheerier to him. He even spotted a bright young man taking the opportunity to make a profit and sell some snacks. A Nation like America would certainly appreciate that.
Most importantly, though, Canada felt like they were all guarding the whole building, as if keeping it safe against those on the other side. There was positiveness there, but also protectiveness.
"Hello, sir." The sudden voice nearly startled Canada.
They were going slow enough that a suited man with sunglasses could safely speed-walk next to them. One of his brother's Secret Service agents? America smiled and turned to the man. "Hey, Jamie. No problems, I hope?"
"Only minor skirmishes, sir, rowdy arguing if you will."
"Ah, I hope no one was harassing the locals here." America gave the man a pointed look.
"No sir, we've left the local residents to wander without bothering them."
"Good. Who else is here?"
Canada let his eyes wander over the crowd on the opposing side, to gauge the level of discontent. They seemed mostly peaceful, he spotted a few cameramen with their reporters talking to them, some which didn't have a logo he even recognized – maybe independent media sources – and he did see a couple of somewhat disguised youngsters mingling in, sunglasses and hoods or bonnets… Other than that…
Oh.
Canada quickly tapped his brother. "Look over there…!"
America looked at him, car stopping with a lurch, then turned to where he was pointing – someone with something in their hands- throwing it – and weaseled himself around the window and over the hood just to catch it in his hand. "Ha!" A rock!
Canada gaped and shrunk in his seat.
Jamie had backed away at the sudden movement but was quickly scanning the crowd, way too many who were watching the whole thing unfold with wide eyes as well.
America laughed, tossing it up a few times. "Aaah hahaha, that was close!" Oh, he was mad… Canada slipped out of the car slowly. America jumped out through the window, pulling the SS by the forearm before he could go find the fiend. "Nope! Park my car, Jamie."
The man turned back with minimal hesitation. "Y-Yes, sir."
America turned to Canada, who was already next to him and adjusting his backpack over his shoulders. "Could you get that kid to stop? I don't want to run after him." With every favor America asks, Canada knew his brother would be conscious of the fact that he'd owe him. Canada certainly could use a favor…
"Okay." So he agreed and began walking in that general direction, focusing on being unseen. America must have figured that whoever threw the rock would probably spot him first and then run, and Canada imagined that he didn't want to make a scene by running around after someone, especially with media around.
Canada certainly didn't want to be seen by them either. But a favor would be nice. So he rounded the crowd, seeing the culprit looking at America on the other side, who was casually dealing with other protestors who intercepted him as soon as he was alone. Small frame, clothes that attempted to cover his shy appearance without outright using a mask. He was turning to leave, so Canada stood behind and intercepted him. "Where are you going?"
The kid sputtered and fell back on his behind. "The hell…?!" The kid glanced at him with wide eyes then he looked back at America who was grinning like a shark as he approached, leaving confused protestors yelling behind.
He was being menacing on purpose.
Canada rolled his eyes. The young man got up and tried to speed-walk away, but Canada grabbed him by the hood, sighing. "I'm sure he just wants to talk. Face it like a man, will you?"
The kid gaped at him, glanced back at America, saw the grin, and turned back, now sweating, hands together as if praying. "O-o-okay, man…! C'mon, that wasn't me, let me go…!"
He might as well have admitted it was. "He's not going to hurt you, calm down…" Canada wondered if his own people would ever be this scared of him. "You'll get a scolding, at worst."
That didn't calm him down.
"Well!" America began as he reached them.
The kid's shoulders twitched rather violently. Canada let go of him and he quickly backed away with his hands up. "L-Look, that wasn't me!"
"What wasn't?" America tilted his head with a fake puzzled look. "You mean this?" He tossed the rock up a few times before crushing it, which made the poor young man let out a squeak of fear. "Didn't your parents teach you not to throw things at people's propriety?" He wanted to scare him.
Considering the three of them were standing on the opposing side of the hypothetical fence separating the two disagreeing groups, Canada wasn't surprised when other people tried to get in the middle of their quarrel, as if attempting to protect and stand up for the poor victim that was America's current target, so Canada backed off before he could be surrounded. America stood straight and didn't back down. He had a feeling his brother would want to settle this before leaving…
Canada doesn't understand how he could not cry when confronted with this many citizens' disapproval of him. Just by hearing it, he knew most of these people did not like America as a Nation, thought of him as a threat, and America didn't seem to mind. He either didn't mind or didn't notice, Canada couldn't tell what was going on in his mind.
The words he was hearing made him shudder. He needed some silence.
Canada went around the gathering mass of people and found an opening, where he tapped America on the shoulder, interrupting him mid-argument, although everyone around him kept on going regardless. "Can I just go upstairs?" He did not want to be complicit to his brother's confrontational habits.
America shrugged. "Sure, here." He dug into his pockets and pulled out a small key-bundle with a simple key-chain, tossing it to him.
"Thanks, try not to take too long." Canada walked away, waving coolly, America nodding and turning back to listening to his people's grievances with his very existence.
He crossed the road to the other side, keeping himself invisible as he passed by cops who didn't notice him, and then passing by those media folks who were interviewing this side of the fence, imagining that the camera would certainly catch sight of him, but they'd only notice once they rewatched the footage some other time.
It much less noisy and was friendlier-looking on this side, and Canada felt himself relaxing again, adding 'stay away from American anti-Nation protestors' to his list of cautionary advice for the future.
Once past the lobby and inside an elevator, Canada sighed in content with the total silence that followed, leaning on the wall behind him. Nice and quiet… The moment was over once the doors opened, he heard some voices down the hall. He frowned.
There were two apartments per floor, so that wasn't the problem. One was down the hall to the left, the other, down the hall to the right. America's room was to the right, and the voices were coming from… the right.
Maybe nosy neighbors waiting for him by the door? Canada walked out and towards them. It was a man talking, kneeled in front of a small child, brown hair, bright amber eyes… Canada tilted his head as he approached invisibly, eyes narrowing as something nagged him in the back of his head. There was something about the child…
Then the child turned to him and gasped, immediately hiding behind the startled man. Canada froze.
The man stopped as well, looking at the direction the child was looking, but his eyes never focused on the Nation. "W-What's wrong…?" The child didn't respond, merely whimpered a bit.
This child could see him. This child… is a Nation.
It had been nearly two hours from start to finish before America managed to untangle himself from that skirmish. He couldn't say he was unhappy about getting involved. Any time he managed to spend talking to his citizens and calming them down was a time well-spent.
He's always preferred to do things this way. When people protest, it meant something was wrong, so he enjoyed going straight up to them as asking what was going on, what was the issue, how to help solve it. If he could, he'd talk to who could help inside his government, or at least, that's how it was supposed to work. It's not as easy to find people to help in there these days.
But the familiar motion of talking to protestors hasn't changed. It made him feel closer to his people when he listened to them directly, even when they didn't know who he was.
This reveal really made this whole process more complicated, because as he just found out, there were plenty of people who weren't willing to listen to him, and specifically to him, so he lost that important appeal of anonymity. The notion that he could easily manipulate others made them even less willing to so much as consider his words.
They might as well have covered their ears and left singing 'la la la not listening'.
Luckily, America had some folks of online media arguing on his side, although that particular group only joined in after watching him and deciding he wouldn't be against them on political terms. He wasn't sure which arguments convinced them of such, but America was fine with it.
Only then he noticed he'd left his brother waiting, probably bored on his own – even if somewhat happy with the silence – so he had to cut the whole thing short.
Leaving the area took another additional twenty minutes to finish off whatever arguments he was having, then another thirty minutes spent mostly going through the other side, filled with people who actually liked him.
The overwhelming demand for attention firing off in his head made it difficult to leave quickly.
"I-I'm really sorry about this, I'll probably move out of here so these people won't bother you anymore-" America promised an older lady, widow, who lived on the third floor, the last one clinging to him.
"Oh don't worry, dear, this is no trouble!"
"Still! I wouldn't want this inconvenience here all the time like this! I'll just stay at the White House instead…!"
So… it was nearly an hour later since deciding to go back inside that he found himself in the elevator, the quietness leaving a buzz in his ears.
Before the doors even opened, he sensed an unfamiliar presence on his floor. His brother was definitely there, but so was someone else, a citizen, maybe? Something felt weird… The doors finally opened and America quickly walked across the hall to his apartment.
The closer he got, the surer he was that there was… something else. Really, what was it…?
Whatever it was, he wasn't sure he liked it.
The door to his apartment was slightly ajar, so America pushed it open and closing it with a bang, walking further in, and immediately zeroing on the weird citizen and even weirder… thing.
He saw a very startled man who had backed away into the couch and next to him was… America froze for a few seconds and then suddenly pointed. "What is that?!" That… the small one, it squeaked at America's tone and hid behind the couch.
"Uuh…" The man had also frozen as well.
Canada came from the kitchenette with his hands up, attempting to pacify him. "Calm down! We'll explain!"
America turned to him instead. "What?! Explain what?! What is that?!"
"Calm down!"
"Not until you tell me what's going on!"
"I will once you calm down!"
"Argh!" America turned away, unable to find a source for the anger to dissipate, so he resorted to pacing instead, eyes focusing on the general direction of the object of his anger.
That's a Nation…! But not simply a foreign Nation…! It was something else… He didn't like it…!
America rubbed his face, ruffing, then pointed at the man instead. "You! Explain-!"
Canada interrupted him, narrowing his eyes at him. "Brother!" He hissed as a warning.
America turned back to him. "This has nothing to do with you!"
Canada was surprisingly defiant. "No! Stop acting like a crazy person!"
The two unexpected guests remained in silence as the two brothers argued. America inevitably accepted that Canada wasn't backing down and threw his hands up in frustration, turning away and stomping towards his room, "Fine! I'll take a breather, then!" but took the time to point back at all three of them. "You all stay right there!"
Then the door was closed and he was alone. After several seconds of taking deep and quick breaths, America grimaced as the situation dawned on him. He slid down the door, but pushed himself off before reaching the floor, taking his cap off and leaving it on the coat-hanger, going to the bathroom instead.
He needed some cold water. He needed to be calm so he could think.
He took his glasses off, leaving it on the counter so he could wash his face. The cool sensation was welcome, but as the previous feeling dissipated, he felt dread instead. He stared at the mirror with wide eyes, pushing his hair back with his still wet hands.
There was another Nation in his territory.
He was sharing space.
Again.
He picked up his glasses, staring down at it, the possible future flashing before him. In just a century or so, that kid would be stabbing him in the back, just like…
America folded the glasses and left them on the counter again. No, don't think of that, that's not the immediate issue.
This had to be the worst possible moment for something so disastrous to happen…! He had his whole country's opinion of him to think about. What would this look like?! A teen celebrity ending up with a child behind the cameras, that's what it would look like! Even if he couldn't have children like humans, this might as well be a Nation's equivalent…!
The same level of scandal…! All the possible narratives they could spin around with this…!
He couldn't pretend the child didn't exist, and he most certainly couldn't even consider the possibility of getting rid of him! Even if he found the guts to do it, he wouldn't be able to keep it a secret forever, and once it was out in the open, as it would, he would be finished! So no, that was out of the question either way…!
"What do I do now…?!" He asked himself in the mirror, quietly so no one would hear on the other side of the wall, nearly pulling his hair off his head. "…People can't know about this…!"
The systems that were used to keep Nations a secret before were really good, and they had disbelief on their side, but not anymore… All the tools, digital or otherwise, all the information on them was all pretty much out in the open. He couldn't safely rely on those in this situation… It just wasn't trustworthy anymore.
America turned and paced in circles inside the small bathroom, glaring at the floor, shaking his head before stopping.
What now, what now, what now…?
He could ask them to keep quiet. But he hasn't even met the two… How could he trust them to just keep it to themselves for his sake? He's sure they'd get a lot of fame from something like this… Maybe a threat…? No, that doesn't work when he has a reputation hanging in the balance. Any idiot could throw the threat right back at him, since it's obvious he wouldn't kill them…!
America leaned on the wall, looking back at the mirror.
Nothing short of an assassination somewhere unknown would make the problem disappear, and even then, there would be risks. Any mystery can turn into a conspiracy, and any conspiracy could be pinned on him.
There was no way out.
He'd have to hope they'd keep quiet. He'd have to trust another Nation who could just as well try to take his place one day, steal his name, or one who could take off with his territory, off into succession.
Well, America mused, it's not like he'd make the same mistake again… He wouldn't be giving an inch of space to anyone. He wasn't being paranoid…! He wasn't overreacting! This was dangerous…!
Glancing at the glasses, he decided he'd keep that child confined to a small piece of land and make sure he never expanded anywhere else.
He wouldn't grow much, but that was fine. It was okay! Because America was the boss. Not the kid. He was going to keep it that way. He wouldn't mess up like last time… They weren't equals! The other one needed to know, accept, and live with that…!
Okay, okay, okay… Calm down, he told himself and took a few breaths.
America then cupped his chin in thought. He'd have to keep the kid loyal, so he wouldn't go off making allies with the wrong people and taking up identities that went against him. Most of his educational system was pretty much against him when it came to teaching history, so he'd have to keep him out of any schools as well… His access to the internet was also dangerous… But social media is full of bubbles these days, keeping a kid stuck in one was easy enough…
But how long would that last, anyway…?
With a final deep breath, America adjusted his hair back to a presentable style and left the bathroom, leaving the glasses as well.
The conversation had stopped as soon as he opened the door. He heard quick scurrying as well, probably the small one hiding. America ignored that and made a bee-line to the fridge, intending of getting himself a drink, since he felt like he would need it.
"Are you calm now?" He heard Canada ask with that mommy-tone.
"Like a breeze." America droned, opening the bottle with his own hand, then leaning over the kitchenette counter. He glanced at the young man sending constant vibes of nervousness, raising an eyebrow. "So, you. What's the story here?" He swirled the bottle.
He couldn't keep that edge off his tone.
The young man wore a white cap, and had sunglasses over it, which he adjusted anxiously, seemingly taking a second to steel himself. Good, America didn't really like when people stuttered too much…
Let's see if he could keep that up, America thought to himself. He watched closely as the young man stood and walked up to him, hands going behind his back in a military manner. "The name is Kennedy Bach, sir."
America took note of that familiar discipline, imagining that he's served before, and nodded. "Where did he come from?" His eyes turned to the small figure still hiding behind the couch. Brown hair, not messy, just over amber eyes.
"Nevada, just outside of Dayton."
Another nod. "When did he show up?"
"Around 2006, we believe."
Canada watched from behind, his shoulders now less tense than before.
"Who else is involved?"
"Just my immediate family, sir. Parents, sister, wife."
Nod. "Alright, elaborate more on what happened."
Kenny, as America would call him, took a breath, nodding. "We first took notice of him in 2006, I was visiting my parents' propriety in Nevada with my wife- girlfriend then- and so was my single sister- still single. We thought he was a lost child, and we tried to get him inside the house, but he kept hiding from us. We called the police, but he was nowhere in sight when they showed up. We tried child services later on as well, but again, he wouldn't show up to strangers…"
Canada nodded in understanding. "…That's pretty normal, actually…"
Kenny had turned briefly to the other Nation, but quickly looked back at America, who nodded as well, taking a sip of his drink. Normally, child-Nations kept it to themselves, avoided human contact until their instincts told them it was safe to approach, which was usually until they learned to communicate properly with them.
They learned like any child – by listening.
"Go on." America urged.
Kenny nodded. "We couldn't find a way to either get to him or for a way to authorities to find him, but he accepted food when we left it for him, so… we thought maybe we had to win his trust, which took too long. Eventually, we had to leave our parents, they said they would look after him until they could figure out how to talk to him or find his parents. My father told us by the phone two weeks later that the boy said he had no parents, didn't know his own name, and didn't want to go with the cops or anyone else, and he just… 'decided' to keep the child and named him 'Kevin'." Kenny sounded exasperated at the end.
America scoffed. Not a name he'd have given a Child-Nation. Maybe he'd change it to something else. "That wasn't characteristic of him? To just keep a random child?"
"…Exactly."
America let a smirk form in his face. "So, the child didn't follow you, he stayed in Nevada. Is your father the one who… I dunno, decided to start his own country at some point recently?"
Kenny blinked in surprise, but recollected himself quickly. "He once said it was a childhood project, but only sort-of made it official in 1999. That's… how this works…?"
"Sorta." America narrowed his eyes. So Kenny was just the son… "What did he call it, anyway?"
Kenny's shoulders dropped, hints of more exasperation and some embarrassment passing though his senses. "…He called it 'The Republic of Molossia' as a child."
"Hm. At least it's not Socialist." America muttered and actually relaxed a bit. "Why didn't your father come here instead?"
Kenny sighed. "He's getting pretty old… I offered to make the trip. Sister's abroad."
"Your wife?"
"At home with the kids."
America nodded, the smirk turning into a more honest smile. He liked when families remained united, even more so these days. "Anything else?"
"Well… My father had been refusing to hand Kevin over to any authorities, he seemed pretty attached next time we visited a year later… He was happier than usual, and so was our mother, so… we stopped trying to convince him. Then in a few years, we noticed he wasn't growing up at all…" To that, Kenny looked behind, where the young Nation was peeking from behind the couch, still. "Dad didn't want the government to know. He was afraid they would… take him away and experiment on him or something."
"Damn right they would." America said, much to the man's visible shock. "Probably wouldn't have told me a damn thing either." He narrowed his eyes, glancing distractedly at the bottle.
America knew that there were people, inside his country, inside institutions like the CIA, who would love to know exactly how he ticks. They tried before; it didn't end so well for them…
Maybe having a smaller Nation, without the strength he had, would tickle their fancy. Creepy as it was… Another issue to be aware of.
"Yeah…" Kenny turned back to him. "So when this whole thing with the Nations blew up, we just connected the dots, and we thought, maybe you would know what to do…"
America nodded again, now more tiredly. "Alright, alright… That's enough for now."
A few seconds of silence. "…Are we in trouble…? My family and I?"
Leaning his head down, America sighed. "No, you're not." Then he stood straight. "Okay. Here's how this is going to work." America left the bottle and walked around the counter, going towards the couch, slowly, as to not startle the smaller Nation while Kenny followed further behind like a worried parent.
Kevin. He would not get used to this name… Molossia actually sounded better for a Nation, but he'd keep a human name for now. He couldn't even shorten the first one, so he'd call him… Nicholas. I bit prettier and he could shorten it to Nick.
Yep. Nick it is.
"First, I'd prefer if you didn't advertise the kid's existence to the whole country. He certainly doesn't need fame, and he doesn't need any groups trying to get his attachment." As he approached the spot where Nick was hiding, the kid turned the corner with a quiet squeak. America just went over the couch instead, caught him under the arms, much to his panic, and pulled him up, placing him next to him. When he tried to move, America kept him there. "Stay there."
Canada looked over them, leaning back so the kid wouldn't feel too sandwiched between the two brothers. "…Just calm down, please." He didn't calm down and kept trying to get out of America's grasp.
"I-Is that normal…?!" Kenny asked frantically.
"Yes." Canada replied. "My father had to hold me for hours until I calmed down."
Nick kept trying to run away and America kept trying to keep him still. "Yup. Dad cornered me and sat down with me, for days." Then the boy began to cry. America let out a long sigh, rolling his eyes. Was he like this when England found him?
"I always suspected you were born stubborn."
America smiled playfully for a second, he wanted to laugh, but he was busy focusing. He slowly let go of the child, who was rubbing the tears off his eyes, and waited.
England did this to him. Kept him corned and still, and then waited, and waited, for days.
Kenny was uncertain, sitting on the coffee table, rubbing his hands nervously. "I don't know… He doesn't look happy…! He's really uncomfortable…! Maybe I-"
Canada took the reins of that conversation instead. America didn't mind. He had been talking to the man for a while before America arrived.
"No, it is fine. It's just his instincts telling him to stay away from strangers. It was a bit more useful when Nations were killing the small ones in the Old World…"
"That happened…?!"
Canada sighed, glancing at Nick, who had curled up at the back of the couch, as if trying to stay the furthest possible from both Nations. "I think I shouldn't be too close, he's scared enough with just my brother. I'll answer your questions over there, then." He pointed at the kitchenette.
Kenny seemed concerned as he looked at Nick, but agreed with a nod.
America remained focused, his body turned to the boy. As soon as Canada was gone, Nick pulled himself further back, away from him, and as retaliation, America moved and sat closer, but still keeping a small distance. The boy's eyes wandered to the floor, as if considering trying to run again, but turned back to America and remained on the couch.
Good. He knows he's supposed to stay there.
Talking was no use for now, so America relaxed visibly, letting him know he was pleased with him staying still. Now he just had to wait until the instinctual part of Nick's mind stopped with the alarm bells, the danger signals and such. As soon as the boy's stress went down, America would relax more, to tell him he wasn't waiting for any openings to attack, he wasn't watching for weakness, and that would keep going until both were completely comfortable.
Then they could talk terms, after trust was established. Just like Capitalism. The kid better like it…
With nothing to do other than watch Nick and wait, America kept an ear open to Canada and Kenny, both who were watching the two from behind the counter.
"…I guess it would be too mean… if he were a human child. But really, this is normal." Canada explained, trying to calm the man. Kenny had been passing the image that he wasn't too attached to the boy, but he was, awfully so. Nick was probably just passing leadership from the man's father to the man himself. There was no proper solid government, so he passed it according to his personal liking.
"-what he said… Why people shouldn't know about him, and why he shouldn't get close to any groups?" Kenny asked.
Canada turned somber, his eyes nearly pitying the boy. "There are plenty of people in this world who know how Nations work. Unfortunately, in this day and age, there are many groups who would want to use him… You see…" He turned back to Kenny. "Nations grow with identities, with groups of people they get attached to. If a separatist group got his attachment, he'd become one of them, they would help him grow and he would help them back, and in the end, he would want the group to succeed in their goal." He shrugged, but continued with some hesitation. "A small Nation can be easily manipulated… they don't know much about the world, they're naïve because they're still children. Any third party with power, even if foreign, if they wanted to break the country apart, they would fund any harmful group to get his attachment, then Kevin would just be poison inside someone else's territory, and…" Again, Canada turned back to 'Kevin', now Nick to America. "it's why the big guys used to kill the small ones. It was to avoid a future problem…"
America could feel the chilling feeling of dread from Kenny. "…So if Kevin becomes a problem, he… he would have to be killed…?!" He whispered the last word. "…But that's-!"
"I know… It's… unfair."
Unfair…? Or maybe disgusting? What decent person wouldn't turn their nose up at children being killed for- For what? Causing problems? Being merely inconvenient? Hanging out with the wrong people?
…For being deceived? Led astray?
…Manipulated into their own demise, unable to see the path because of their own innocent naivete?
Canada frowned, crossing his arms. "I guess the world is always cruel, even to children…"
America blinked, focusing again entirely on Nick, who had his utmost attention fixated on America, oblivious to the conversation behind.
What he would do, if this child turned into a problem…? That's exactly why he wanted to keep him loyal, away from all possible influences, social or political, who could turn him against America.
Because the boy couldn't beat him. America certainly wouldn't let him. He didn't want to hurt him. But that wasn't entirely up to him. He'd be judged anyway, though.
'That Nation would kill a child to keep himself as the dominant one'. That alone would give his government the chance to approach the boy, under the guise of keeping him 'safe'. Humans wouldn't understand… The insuperable instinct for survival that Nations had. He wasn't capable of risking his life like this, no matter how much he didn't want to hurt the kid.
But they wouldn't care. The damage would be done. Nick would be in the hands of those who could use him. In the end of that road, America knew, he would be ending this child's life.
How many in his country would stand with him then…?
Nick watched him, and America wondered if his moment of distraction let his thoughts pass freely through his face. He hoped not.
He couldn't show weakness. The kid needed to know who the boss was. America needed his loyalty… He needed…
Nick blinked, his shoulders finally relaxing. America raised an eyebrow lightly. After a few tense seconds, the boy crawled his way closer, sitting right next to him, looking up with now big curious eyes.
Trust. So quickly…?
America felt his brows knitting upwards without his consent. The memory that pushed itself to the front of his mind was of him and England, America still small enough to be carried following him around, and he remembers the feeling of safety, loyalty, attachment.
Just sitting with him for days to gain his trust didn't bring any of that. That wasn't it… Just trust wasn't what got attached to England in the first place, it was… It was…
He had been focused on the future, the worst possible aspects of it, the darkest possible paths. The thought didn't quite occur to him with such startling clarity until seeing the wide curious eyes up close, asking him to make the next move in this exercise of trust…
Ah shit…
This was his kid.
And he had no idea what to do about that.
(11/04 UPDATE)
Concerning the November 4th issue, the supposed 'Day of Revolution' marked by Antifa.
I had my doubts that something big would even happen, but I worried that someone would get hurt at some point. So I just left out a note as a heads up. But it seems like it was a big dud. Nice going, Antifa losers. There's some buzzing that it might be a diversion, for a surprise attack, maybe using the 'Boy Who Cried Wolf' tactic against people.
Either way, I will still expect Terrorist Attacks from these people in the future.
A/N: Anyway. About the chapter then.
I've been meaning to go over the topic of children with Nations for quite a while. I find them very interesting.
This whole chapter is an interlude, pretty much, which makes me feel bad about taking so long to update, and even more so about taking long to write the next chapter. Next chapter I wanted to go to a Child-Nation's POV, with a lot of interesting thoughts to write concerning how such a young non-human would look at the world, and there's will be some action as well.
There's not a lot to say in this chapter concerning politics or anything big on that topic. Still, I liked writing the brotherly dynamics between America and Canada, especially in contrast to how it worked in the flashback.
So first, I couldn't help but mention it, but I think the White House became paranoid of Trump a lot sooner than most people. It would seem appropriate that the people there would be trying to figure out what America is doing or thinking or who he's talking to, and I'm sure it would feel suffocating enough that he'd want to be somewhere far away for a little while. But also, no, America is not endorsing anyone through a random red hat. He was completely oblivious, which was the point there, some people just keep seeing 'coded messages' in people's actions, it's both funny and annoying. I'm pretty aware that the MAGA hats probably weren't in circulation at that point (July) but I just liked the scene too much and couldn't think of another place to put it. It was a good transition scene.
Followed by America's and Canada's childhoods. It's my headcanon that America was incredibly spoiled by England and would only begin to grow once that trust was broken by the things that led him to seek independence. But most interesting to me would be his jealousy, and how he treated his new brother because of it. America was absolutely spoiled by his father, so he didn't like sharing anything, even his father's attention, so he was a very mean brat, and poor Canada, unfortunately, suffered for it. So Canada's social skills are very lacking and he always relied on being a Nation to help him out. Beyond that, I'm still debating whether the special attributes some lucky Nations have are things they're born with or if they develop it as they grow, although I'm leaning towards 'luckily born with it'.
Now when it comes to the pro and anti sides of protestors. There's always that one idiot who does something stupid, so I thought it would be funny to have the two brothers deal with it. Although this is not even close to how bad protests can get (and they will get worse, as we all know). I couldn't see Canada sticking around and I didn't want to keep switching scenes between America and Canada just to get whatever argument he was having, but I'll probably write that on News Media at some point. So far, both sides are peaceful and reasonable (with the exception of that one idiot).
Then Molossia! Or little Nicky! I know, in the show he's supposed to look a lot older, but I always found weird how such young Nations like Wy looked like 10-year olds, or how some could reach puberty if they were just Micronations, not even an actual country! I think they would all be small children, the oldest ones like Sealand and Hutt River looking like 10, and the youngest ones like Wy and Molossia looking a little older than toddlers. I like to think that there's a period of time between establishing a new country and a Nation being born, and that varies from Nation to Nation, it can be 3 years and it can be 10 too, it can even be 30. But I liked the more 'natural' aspect, instincts, and how they behave. Since I established that long ago, Nations just got rid of the small ones, it would make sense that they would have the sense to hide. Other Nations scare them on sight and one would have to gain their trust -the method which I based it is one of 'angry-dog-taming' methods - waiting while trying to calm the dog down slowly, until it's sure you won't hurt it.
Something else on that matter, would be the difference between Australia and America on how they act towards having children in their territory. Australia is not the most cynical or hardened Nation, so he's very cool and optimistic about it. While America freaks out completely, because he's got issues. He's always had problems with sharing, but he's still shared territory in the past, and it ended in Civil War, so he really wouldn't want to share again. He's more cynical, cautious, and pessimistic. We can see in this chapter he's becoming more and more concerned with his image and that's starting to get to him (maybe Canada's theory is correct…), the risks the kid could carry to him are too big and there's nothing he can do about it.
He also didn't want to admit to himself that that kid was his, and that he's a father. Trust wasn't what made him like England so much when young, it was because England had established that they were family and treated him as such. So if it's not just about trust, if it's not that simple, well… Then he doesn't know what to do, because he doesn't actually know how to be a good father, and that hit him right then.
Well. That's all for now. Sorry that it took so long, and sorry that the next will also take a little while longer (I did leave a pretty looong playlist if you want to keep yourself distracted with this sort of topics). Anyway, if you have any interesting thoughts or ideas, leave a review.
Until next time. o/