Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers because the universe just doesn't work that way.
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"There's this really incredible man," Rhode Island was saying, his mouth full of food, "named Stephen Hopkins. I think if I need a representative I'll-"
"Can you please not speak with your mouth full," New Jersey pleaded, "I'm sure it's grossing Penny out!"
"Oh no I don't mind," Pennsylvania said somewhat absently, still staring with rapture at Rhode Island, "Continue Will."
Rhode Island shot a look at New Jersey, but swallowed first then continued, "I was just saying if I need a representative for my state he'd be the first person I'd ask."
"Really," Pennsylvania leaned forward, "You really think we may need to call a congress?"
"With the way things are going I wouldn't be surprised if it happened in the next year or so," Connecticut supplied, "With that last tax it's only a matter of time."
America, standing near the fire as he prepared the colonies more breakfast, glanced over his shoulder sourly at Connecticut's remark. Since the Stamp Act there had only been one other tax and that was the Townshend Revenue Act, which taxed glass, paint, oil, lead, paper, and tea. Honestly Arthur, America brooded in his head, he had just been managing to settle the kids down from the Stamp Act when the idiot had gone and passed something else. The colonies had not been pleased.
"I'm not sure who I'd choose to send as a representative," Maryland mused, "No one's standing out right now."
"What about that Johnson man," Delaware suggested, "I met him once when he came to my state and was impressed. I'm going to send McKean myself."
America gained a pained expression as he continued listening to their remarks but said nothing. Things had changed these past few years. Relations had gotten continually worse with England and no one was happy. England wasn't happy, English people weren't happy, colonists weren't happy, America wasn't happy, and the Thirteen definitely weren't happy. To try and calm things down slightly (and in an attempt to stop the colonies from getting their citizens too riled up) America had undertaken the bold experiment (death wish?) of having all the children stay with him. It had been an interesting experience, to say the least, but with all this talk of some congress America wasn't sure how much his idea was working.
"Here's some more sausage," the older man muttered and placed the meat down on the table. As most of the children attacked the food one still colony caught America's eyes.
"Massachusetts," America said to the girl, "You feeling all right?"
The New Englander's eyes looked up from her meal and she nodded simply. The little girl had steadily been growing more and more silent over the past few days. At first it had been a bit of a relief to get a break from her anti-England speeches but this morning she had hardly said two words, if that. America, of course, knew this was a sign for him to be getting worried.
"Are you sure," America asked as he moved over to the young girl, "You haven't taken a bite of breakfast."
He reached out and placed a hand on her forehead, she didn't seem unusually warm. Massachusetts irritably jerked away from the hand which gained all of her siblings attention.
"Abigail," Virginia questioned slowly.
"Ginny," Massachusetts mimicked, annoyed.
"Wha's wrong with you," Connecticut asked bluntly.
"Nothing," Massachusetts growled, she stabbed a sausage and twisted the fork viciously.
"My, my," South Carolina raised her eyebrows, "What did that poor pig ever do to you."
"Cute," Massachusetts sneered but continued her practice.
"Abby come on," America said with a tired tone, "Tell me what's wrong."
Massachusetts finally lifted her head and looked around as everyone watched her. Sucking in a deep breath the girl finally declared, "I want to go home!"
Her caretaker groaned and lifted a hand to massage his temples, "Mass you're staying here for awhile. You can go home soon-"
"All right I said that wrong," the girl continued quickly, "I should've said I need to go home. I feel awful knowing my people are up there with that pig's soliders-"
"I hope you're not referring to Arthur as a pig," America commented dryly.
"I mean Arthur," Massachusetts corrected quickly, "I feel awful knowing my people are stuck up there with Arthur's soldiers while I'm down here doing nothing."
"I wanna go home too," North Carolina inserted, "I miss my house."
"I miss my bed," New Hampshire said longingly.
"I miss my horses," Georgia cried.
"I miss my people," New York sighed.
At the boy's comment every single one of the colonies nodded and began to look miserable at the mere they thought of their homes. America looked distraught as he gazed at his children. He knew he couldn't let them go back, not yet anyway. It was too dangerous.
"No one's going home," he said as firmly as he could. His declaration was met with a unified wail so he added, "This is your home for now, you guys need to get used to that idea."
"But Dad-"
"I don't want to here it. Think of this as an opportunity to build some character."
A silent beat then-
"I don't want any character," Delaware informed America stubbornly.
"Yeah!" the rest shouted in agreement.
"Oh for the love of-"America threw his hands up in the air before spinning around, striding out of the house and into the cold, January air. He grabbed the milk pail on his way to the small barn, figuring he'd take some of this nervous energy out milking.
He cooed gently to the cow as he grabbed the stool and sat down to his work. If only the kids could be as calm as this calm old mammal, then he wouldn't be so damn fidgety. All this unrest was taking a serious toll on the young man. Still, he just sighed and began pumping the utters. Truth was that he loved having the Thirteen with him all the time, even with the occasional battiness and fights. He adored each and every one of his children, which was why it was secretly killing him to see them so unhappy.
"Dad."
Someone had followed him out there. America's eyes flickered up to see it was Massachusetts, one of her brothers coats wrapped tightly around her.
"Unless you're planning on helping me with something I think you should go back inside Abby."
In response the girl moved and grabbed the broom by the entrance and began sweeping the barn floor. America watched expressionlessly for a moment before going back to his milking. The father and daughter did their respective chores with an uneasy silence between them.
"Daddy," Massachusetts finally whispered, "I need to go back."
America let out yet another sigh but still answered, "You know my answer Abigail."
"Dad-"
"There was a reason you were brought down here hon," America reminded.
And there was. Massachusetts (along with the other twelve) certainly had a hand in stirring up some anti-British feelings among her people. Fuck she was the anti-British feelings. Her and those damn Sons of Liberty with all their boycotts and protests, America thought irritably in his head. Massachusetts had been one of the first colonies he'd sent for after she had declared the Non-Importation Agreement. Though he had to admire his daughter's guts at the act America also marveled at her arrogance. Part of the reason he had rushed to get her down to the cabin was for her own safety, before England could get to her and whip her into her senses like he'd threatened.
America had prayed thanks that England had too many distractions to make good on the threat.
"I know," Massachusetts said humbly.
Her father looked up in surprise.
"But I'm not sorry for it."
(There we go)
"That just shows me you're not ready to go back," America said.
"I need to," the girl yelped, "England's got a presence up there with his soldiers yet I can't be there? That hardly seems fair Dad."
"Arthur's soldiers are there to try and keep order," America said through gritted teeth.
"Well it's not working," Massachusetts countered, "I can feel it. My people are getting more and more angry-"
"And if you go back things are supposed to get better," America snapped, "Don't try and fool me Abigail Jones, you'll just make things worse."
Not fazed in the slightest at her fathers snap, the colony countered, "I wouldn't need to help it along at all, tensions are bound to explode soon anyway."
"God Mass," her father blared in distress. He stood up from the stool and paced, hands behind his head.
"Why did you have to do this," he asked (more to himself) miserably.
"Spare me another argument over taxes Dad."
America snorted at that but kept his back to her, trying to compose himself in the sudden quiet.
"Daddy I need to go back," Massachusetts tone was softer now.
"So I've heard," the man grunted.
"I…I need to. Something…doesn't feel right," she finished quietly.
The man finally turned to face the child, a frown on his face, "What do you mean something doesn't feel right?"
"I feel funny all the time," Massachusetts sounded vulnerable, almost frightened, "Like something bad is going to happen."
Any normal parent could assure their normal child that everything was okay, a feeling didn't have to mean anything. But America wasn't a normal parent and Massachusetts wasn't a normal child, things like that had to be taken seriously.
"Is it strong?"
"Very."
"Nothings happened already has it," America questioned.
"No, not yet. It's going to though."
"Any particular place?"
Massachusetts lifted a hand and placed it on her chest, right where her heart should be. "Boston," she whispered.
America chewed on lip as he surveyed the girl with worry.
"You're not making this up?"
"I wouldn't do that."
He nodded slowly, "If it's really that bad…Maybe me and you could run up there for a while."
"What about the others? Will you let them go home too?"
"No," he shook his head, "But I can't exactly leave them alone either."
"I'll go by myself," Massachusetts stated firmly.
"Mass-"
"It'll be fine."
America huffed, his breath showing in the cold air, "No starting anything, you hear. Or I'll come up there and drag you back myself."
Massachusetts nodded, her excitement beginning to show.
"Try and find out what this feeling may be about and if you can stop it, great. If you can't…well I'll be up there as soon as you need."
"Of course. So…I can go?"
"Yes," America said, a bit grudgingly, "But not for long."
Next thing he knew Massachusetts was attached to his waist, hugging him fiercely.
"Thank you Daddy," she said, nuzzling her face into his warm stomach, "Thank you so much."
America, touched, wrapped his own arms around her shoulders.
"Be careful Abby," he said gruffly, "And come back to me all right?"
Her arms tightened around her father in response.
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One March morning America was sitting at the kitchen table with Connecticut, Virginia, and Maryland. The three were idly carving figures as they chatted.
"How long has Massachusetts been gone now," Virginia asked casually.
"Two months," Connecticut replied, "Wasn't she just supposed to be gone for a couple weeks?"
America jerked his head in confirmation. It was true; his second-eldest's trip had been extended quite far. Yet she always begged for just 'a little' more time and America had granted the requests. Darn her and her persuasive arguments.
"She must have really missed her home. I'm glad she's gotten to go back for awhile," Virginia said.
"I don't really understand what everyone's fussing about," Maryland commented, "I mean sure I miss my people and my own house but it's not dreadful."
"You two wouldn't understand," Connecticut interjects grumpily, "We're right in between your boundaries. You're not miles and miles from your land and your people."
There's a somewhat tense silence that America ignores in favor of detailing his carving.
"Never thought you'd be one to stick up for Abigail, Thomas," Maryland says, a snide edge in his voice.
Connecticut blanches, "Don't even think that. I can just slightly relate to how she feels in a way. Everyone knows why she really wanted to go back. So she can be reunited with those Sons of Liberty and figure out more ways to make England angry."
The three glance at America at the mention of England but he is still trying to ignore them. He doesn't like talking about England lately.
"I think she just missed her home," Virginia says optimistically, "Maybe her being there could calm the people down."
"Don't be ridiculous Ginny. How's she supposed to calm them down when she's a mess herself," Connecticut scoffed.
"Don't call your sister names," America droned automatically. (He always interceded when the colonies began out right insulting each other.)
"Sorry Dad," Connecticut offered before turning back to the Southerners, "But really, there's no stopping what's going on up there."
"It's really that bad," Virginia questions with worry.
"Massachusetts seems to have more lunatics than average anyway," Connecticut mutters, "Mix that with all this anger everywhere and you're just asking for trouble."
"Is it, is it true what they do to…," Maryland trails of uncertainly.
America looks up sharply.
"To the tax collectors?" Connecticut's voice is disturbingly casual, "Oh yes. They really enjoy the whole tarring and feathering bit of up there."
Maryland turned green and Virginia didn't try and hide her gasp, "Abby can't condone that!"
"She doesn't seem to mind it much," Connecticut's smile is slightly nasty.
Before anyone could say anything else the door burst open and in ran the Carolinas, Delaware, New Hampshire, and Georgia. The five were all babbling hysterically and America quickly jumped up, knocking his chair over in the process.
"What? What's going on," America questioned loudly.
North Carolina began sobbing and America felt his fear take a sharp spike. He quickly went to the children and knelt in front of them, gathering them close and asking who was hurt.
"N-n-none of us," Georgia stammer was made out.
"Then what's wrong?"
They all talking again, making it impossible to understand anything. Then America caught New York and New Jersey stumble in, looking deathly pale and quiet.
"James," he called in a strangled voice, "What's happening?"
New York looked up, "When we were in town we got a newspaper."
The boy held it out while America read the title and felt his stomach drop with dread.
'BOSTON MASSACRE'
A/N: The Celtics lost :( So now I feel bad for my poor Massachusetts, even if this recent tragedy would be a few hundred years in the future. *Sigh* But now that there's less basketball to distract me I finally paid attention to this story again so yeah. I really, really hate this chapter but that's just the way it goes.
On a chipper note the Boston Tea Party is next chapter!
An enormous and heart-felt THANK YOU to my beloved reviewers- Lupegarou4488, PCOrigami, ChibiStarr, Bluestrike22, AkaEyes, METRO SKiiES, SakuraLetters, Karen Elaine DuLay, and curledruler. You guys are the reason I continue writing and I love you.
On the story- Sorry Mass is still stealing all the spotlight, I'm trying to give the other colonies more story time but its hard since she was so involved with this whole thing.
Historical Notes.
-The men the colonies were talking about were actual people who represented said colonies at some point.
-The Boston Non-Importation Agreement was essentially a boycott by Bostonian merchants and traders to protest the Townshend Revenue Act.
- The Sons of Liberty was a political group of American patriots who were formed to try and protect the rights of the colonies from the British. There were actually Sons of Liberty in every colony but the most well-known was the Massachusetts based group. The Sons of Liberty were not always above violent means to protest the British. Notable members included John and Samuel Adams, Benedict Arnold, and Paul Revere among others.
-Tarring and Feathering is a form of mob punishment that I, personally, find particularly revolting. The process includes stripping the intended person to the waist then pouring or painting hot tar onto his skin. The person would then have feathers thrown on them to stick to the tar and would often be paraded around town. American colonists did use this on occasion and it became more common during the early stages of the Revolution in order to have Tax officials resign. The most notable involved Customs official John Malcolm.
-The Boston Massacre was an incident that took place on March 5, 1770. Civilians had been harassing British officers stationed outside a Customs house. The situation escalated when the crowd began throwing snowballs at the soldiers. When one soldier was struck down by a man with a club he fired his musket. The crowd began taunting the soldiers more yelling 'Fire', the British eventually did. Five civilian men were killed. The massacre prompted a more widespread rebellion in all the colonies. (Just a side thought- You know the famous Paul Revere depiction? Ever noticed that random dog just hanging out in the middle of it all? I mean WTF?)
Tell next time my lovelies! I adore ALL of you and you can't do anything about it so ha!
Little-Harlequin