CH 25
America and England, with a lack of anything better to do during sunrise, sit on the curb overlooking the stream and lovely sight of America's ruined car. Checking cell phones only showed no service and America took a moment to curse his lack of coverage, vowing to increase cell service and better infrastructure. He sits steaming in the sun, head in hands. England isn't much better, head in one hand, making plans and scrapping them within seconds.
This isn't doing either of them good.
They are running out of time and it seems they've taken the scenic route to saving the capitols and it has cost them dearly. They have until the end of today or war is a terrifying possibility. Things are so strange now. Back in the good old days of conquest, capturing a capitol meant surrender, but these circumstances are quite unique. America didn't take London. England and America were working together. Washington was also taken. It was just plain weird.
They just have to deal with it.
"What do we do, England?" America pleads from the sanctuary of his hands.
England lets out a heavy sigh, because at this point no matter what they do, something is bound to go wrong. It's been cat and mouse games for days now. That doesn't mean he's stopped playing.
With a tilt of his head and the sudden urge to smoke a cigarette (he is very much passed that nasty habit now, but sometimes he really does like the aesthetic), England fixes America with a look.
"How do you think I am going to respond, America?" He snaps and stands. America looks up at sudden change in demeanor.
England puts his hands on his hips, very similarly to an angry mother, and reprimands America all the same, "Do I have to hold your hand and pull you through this? I thought you were ready for independence. I was under the impression that when you left me, you could handle things on you without falling apart and moaning your woes like you're on your deathbed."
America feels heat in his chest, "This is so uncalled for, England! You're bringing this up now?"
"I feel like I've done nothing but try pick you up and keep you from melting away into a weeping puddle upon the floor," England sneers, ignoring America sputters, "You may no longer be my colony but it sure hasn't felt that way lately, would you like me to cradle you like a child as you cry about your fears?"
"How dare you—."
"You can't even keep track of your own capitol in your own country, let alone mine. And now you just sit here and waste away? 'Oh, I'm so sad, I'll never find my capitol or yours, so sorry England,' is that how it is?" England mocks, "'I'm so weak!' Are you even strong enough to keep going? Might as well lay it all down right here!"
America explodes in fury, getting right in England's face.
"I am my own country! A strong country, the best country, and I don't need your help to keep it that way! I can do this on my own! I will find both of our capitols and I'll show you who's a strong independent country!" America shouts at England, panting and livid.
England just smirks, "Good."
America is properly thrown and leans back, "Good?"
With an expression showing only the proudest satisfaction, England flips a hand and turns, "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
America deflates, very clearly confused at the sudden turn in England's mood, "Yeah?"
"Yes," England responds, looking quite like the cat who got the cream.
America deflates further, "I think I was just played."
"Like a fiddle, as you say," England chirps, "Somebody just needs to believe in himself."
"Okay," America takes a deep sigh, "I'm great," He breathes. He spares a look at England who looks distinctly unimpressed.
"You can do better than that."
England is remembering the god-awful obnoxious country that used to crash war meetings in the 1940's with huge declarations of greatness. This is subpar in comparison. America just shrugs.
"I'll get there, the past years have been difficult, you know? I've been slightly nauseous since that recession in 2008. Really makes it difficult to get excited."
That fact makes England suspicious, "Since 2008? I really hope whatever is causing this hasn't been going on for that long."
America just deflates again, "I could say it's been there since the 1860's. Divisions are hard. It's just more prominent now than it's been in the past few decades. The technology makes it harder to ignore."
England flinches. That sounds terrible. 160 years is quite a long time, even in country standards. Unless you're China. And being split at the seams… England understands. It's something every country dreads facing, and he's had his own fair share of being split apart.
They both sit down in the dirt. England doesn't quite know what to say.
They are broken from the silent reverie by the noise of an engine and tires over dirt and stone. America and England look up in tandem as America's old pickup truck rounds the corner, honking at them. Confused, the two countries walk towards the side of the road as the truck stops in front of them. The window rolls down.
"Well, get in loser, eh?" Canada laughs.
America is ever so happy to see his brother.
"How'd you find us?" America asks. It's great, but also suspicious, ya know?
"How did you know to come looking, is the better question," England interjects. America nods.
Canada sighs and rolls his eyes, "America, you butt dialed me hours ago. Like, 37 times."
"Oh, uh, sorry dude," America blushes.
"And Find my iPhone is surprisingly accurate, eh?" Canada laughs. He waves them towards the back, "Come on, you must have places to be."
The man smiles, snakelike and predatory, although he likely thought it looked friendly. It was not, not at all. Danny and Landon sit there and cringe at the attempt. Danny wants nothing to do with this guy.
Landon speaks first, "Yes, he's awake, but he hasn't done his early stretches, so if you don't mind…?" He trails off.
The man frowns in false sympathy, "That's too bad, unfortunately we are on a tight schedule. Washington, will be coming with us for a while."
Danny lifts his head in panic, "Uh, no, thank you. Unfortunately, my schedule is full. I don't think I can fit it in after stretches."
The man's face loses his sympathy and Danny thinks they may have pushed it too far. He laughs nervously. The man gives him a very clearly fake smile. All teeth.
"Untie him. You're going for a little walk, Washington."
The men untie Danny with a little more care than he expected, and when they pull him up, he's still too tired resist. Landon, however, is more than willing to disrupt some discourse.
"Get your bloody paws off him, you maggot ridden heathens!" Landon snarls.
"Woah there, Landon," Danny soothes, "I'm impressed, but let's not anger the danger men."
Landon can do little more than simmer as Danny is led away.
After some many loops and turns (they are probably trying to confuse him, but Danny was confused before he even left the room so, it's a wasted effort), they arrive in what looks to be a theater. Or a theatre. Whichever. Either way, Danny is now even more confused. And curious. And perhaps scared.
The man smiles at him.
Definitely scared.
"We're not going to watch a horror movie, are we?" Danny ventures.
"Oh, no. This is about the future glory of our country."
Huh, nice. But no thanks, Danny thinks. He'd rather not. The country's flawed, yes, but this sounds like it could easily dip into delusion. So, he'd rather not.
"Are there any other showings?" Danny probes, still prolonging the inevitable.
"Sadly, no." That same infuriating smile. Danny grits his teeth and seethes.
"Oh," He replies. Jaw clenched.
"Just sit back and relax. Enjoy the show."
They push and prod him towards a seat like a child, voices patronizing and sickly sweet. Fake and tying him to his seat. Frustrated at this beating around the bush, Danny snaps.
"Stop this—this act! Why don't you give me a straight answer for once?"
The man still smiles, "Like you've been doing?"
"I'm the victim here!" Danny shouts, exasperated, "I'm not telling you anything!"
The man shrugs, "Very well. I'll tell you."
Danny blinks. He actually didn't expect that to work. Better buckle in for this one. Good thing he's tied down. The man walks on the little stage in front of the screen and throws his arms out with a flourish.
"This is our project. The Right Project. This is a film that we give to all our new recruits to explain our mission and prepare them for our goals in the future. We want our country on the Right side, where people like me control the populace. That's the summary of it."
Danny raises an eyebrow, "That's it?"
The man walks off stage waving a flippant hand, "You'll see it on the screen."
"Wait!" Danny shouts, and the man pauses, "The Right. Are you talking about new Nazism? The Neo Nazis?"
The man smiles again, "Smart boy. Don't worry. Like I said, you'll see it on the screen."
But Danny didn't want to see it on the screen. He wanted to not be here, because being here was not great. Quite the opposite really. He also didn't believe in the Neo Nazi cause. Because, you know, Nazis. How unamerican is that? Like super unamerican. Super mega unamerican. How can they possibly claim to make this country better when the very ideals are so opposing to basic rights of the United States? So, once again, no thank you.
"But I don't want to see it on screen."
The man steps into Danny's space and leans down. "You aren't the only one we kidnapped."
Chills creep up Danny's neck, "You can't hurt Landon, you'll cause and end a war! With an ally! For no reason!"
America is already walking on eggshells as it is with other countries. The strange dogmatic attitude and an inept leader has made international relations strained at best. Collusion at worst. Which is illegal by the way. As the physical representation of government, Danny just can't get behind that. He'd rather make friends with allies, not push them away.
The man shrugs, "I wouldn't say it's for no reason. It will show our strength and skill."
Danny is unconvinced, "Oh yes, you just happened upon the capital of England while he was on vacation, how convenient. So strong. Much skill."
The man lunges forward and Danny flinches back, the movement unexpected.
"We will make ourselves stronger, and war is necessary to show our power!" He snarls, "America can no longer look weak. Countries are laughing at us!"
Danny tilts his head back, staring him in the eyes, "Gee, I wonder why."
The man takes a deep breath and backs off, "They won't be laughing once London is dead."
Danny freezes, "You wouldn't. You can't."
London may not completely die, it takes both the destruction of the land and the representative for that, but England would definitely surrender. And America would lose one of his closest allies, quite possibly forever, if not for a really long time. It's really hard to forgive something like that.
Although, England and Canada technically did that to America. Only, America was young enough to forgive. Time heals all wounds.
The man shrugs again, "I will kill him if you don't cooperate."
Then there is no choice. Danny won't let that happen to London, England, or America.
"I'll watch your stupid introduction show," He snarls.
The man tilts his head, creepy smile once again adorning his face. Danny wants to punch it off, but his hands are tied. Literally.
"We're gonna need a bit more than that."
It's then that the man pulls a gun out of a holster and shoots a bullet through Danny's forehead. He doesn't have time to feel it.
In the passenger seat of the truck America keels over with a shout of pain, having felt a knife somewhere deep in his heart. He sucks in a deep breath, but it does nothing for the burn, only spreads fire. America chokes and Canada is yelling at England to help.
"America, breath!"
But America doesn't have enough air to tell him that he can't breathe. His heart beats so sporadically—its rhythm shattered. He knows England is shaking his shoulder from the backseat (it's very awkward positioning) but it's not really helping.
"England, what's wrong with him?" Canada shouts, trying to focus on the road.
America tries to mouth something to England, and by the sudden paleness of the brit's face, America knows he understands.
"Washington," England says grimly.
Darkness pulls America away.
"Washington? What, is it being attacked?" Canada asks.
England stares quietly out the window, taking a moment to answer. With all the chaos, he'd forgotten that Canada hadn't been filled in on the recent events. The really grim, recent events. He props American up in the seat which is quite an effort from the backseat, and tries to explain.
"Uh.." England laughs awkwardly, "Well, London may have stumbled across the representative of Washington D.C."
"Oh maple," Canada huffs, "What's happened?"
"Some good things, lad. And Some bad."
The explanation of it all takes longer than he thought, and they have to stop for gas by the time England gets to the problem of the day. That they need London back by tonight or war may be the only option.
Canada leans against the truck after putting the nozzle in the tank, hand on his face. England fidgets by the pump. America is still dead to the world in the front seat. Hopefully, if anyone looks in, they'll think he's asleep, or England and Canada may have to answer some uncomfortable questions.
Canada sighs, "War, England. Really?"
England shrugs, "It wasn't my call."
"Well then," Canada finishes with the gas and pats England on the back, "We'll just have to get them back by tonight." And he gets in the truck.
"Yeah, we'll get right on that," England says with sarcasm, but he gets in the truck too.
It takes Landon a moment to realize that not all the henchmen left with Danny. And Landon knows what's going to happen. He's seen it enough; he's not a new capital after all. It's going to get painful.
"Make it quick, lads. I don't have all day," Landon goads. Then his head whips back when he gets a weak left hook to the jaw.
They aren't very good at beating him up. Landon has definitely had worse, back in the war days. Those men really knew cruelty, but Landon is annoyed that these men even bothered.
Landon only regrets it when he hears his leg snap. That could be problematic.