"The truth is rarely pure and never simple."
– Oscar Wilde
The next morning at 8am sharp, America walked into the conference room with his head held high and Rosemary strapped to his chest. England would have been proud of him for arriving on time, except that England wasn't in attendance. Scotland was serving as the representative of the United Kingdom at this conference. The official explanation was that Scotland wanted more say in international politics, and England had finally relented after his near attempt to leave the union, but everyone knew the real reason.
The eyes of the world followed America as he took his seat while confused murmuring filled the room. Oblivious as usual, he ignored the other nations and made sure that Rosemary was settled comfortably on his lap.
"Ähm," Germany quieted the other nations by standing up and loudly clear his throat. He wasn't the host, but at this point all of the nations expected him to take control anyway, especially since Canada had been trying (and failing) to get everyone's attention for the past ten minutes. "Amerika, you are not allowed to bring non-nations to World Meetings," he remarked.
"Hey, it's cool. Canada said he didn't mind. Right, bro?"
"Eh?" Canada looked embarrassed at all of the attention. "No..."
"Be that as it may, it is forbidden," Germany insisted.
"So why does Canada get to bring Kumajiro?" America demanded.
"Who?" Germany asked.
"Who?" Canada echoed.
"Me!" The polar bear reminded him.
"Oh, let him stay," Austria huffed. "It's not as if a toddler could possibly be more disruptive than America himself."
"That's right!" America grinned. He got the sense that Austria said it more to annoy Germany than to help him, but he flashed a smile at the other nation anyway. Germany glanced at the clock and sighed, deciding that starting on time was more important than making a fuss over the child in America's lap. He steadfastly ignored America for the rest of his presentation on the strength of various currencies, even though the other nations continued to watch the young nation and whisper amongst themselves.
Rosemary began yawning during a presentation on agricultural tariffs, and America spent his time watching her sleep peacefully instead of randomly interrupting the way he usually did when bored. She was so cute, it was like watching an internet video of a sleepy kitten! The meeting progressed through the agenda quickly, and Germany actually looked pleased for once.
As Spain began animatedly discussing some change in the EU Entry Price System for tomatoes, Rosemary's eyes fluttered open. She glanced around the room, yawned, and gave America a pleading look. "Daddy, I'm bored. Can we go soon?"
"Sorry, sweetie. Just fifteen more minutes 'til lunch. Think you can handle that?"
"Yeah." She nodded with her mouth set in a determined line. "I'm a big kid!"
The nations closest to them sat up a little straighter when they heard her English accent and America could see the uncertainty flicker in their eyes. He grinned to himself. England had painted him as a liar, but he wasn't! At least, not as much of a liar as England claimed.
When it came time for lunch, America wasn't surprised to see Sweden and Finland make their way to his side, pushing their way through the curious onlookers. Nothing could make a crowd move quite as quickly as Sweden's frightening gaze. The promise of a "free lunch" was more than enough to earn America's cooperation. He dragged Canada along too, just barely remembering that he had already promised to have lunch with his brother.
At the nice Nordic cafe, Rosemary and Canada happily munched on Swedish pancakes with lingonberry jam, while America explained the secret to his 'pregnancy.'
"... so I found a micronation that already existed and gave them some land. You two share a border, right? I bet someone has come up with something."
Finland nodded thoughtfully. It was hard to read Sweden's expression, but he didn't look angry, so America counted that as a victory. Mostly he was just grateful that they were both too reserved to ask why England thought the pregnancy was a lie. He could see Canada giving him a look, and he knew that he'd be getting an earful from his twin later.
"Pancakes are the best!" Rosemary said cheerfully as she cleaned off her plate.
Canada smiled fondly and ruffled her hair. "I think she takes after me."
"She better not share your addiction to poutine," America teased.
"What's poutine?" Rosemary asked.
The twins answered at the same time:
"An abomination unto French fries," America groused.
"The most delicious food ever invented," Canada bragged.
They glared at each other playfully and then laughed. America was glad that his daughter liked her uncle, but he still desperately wished that England was with them. England would love the girl's bright smiles and clever questions. At the thought of England, his normally bright grin dimmed. Canada noticed. "Only a couple more hours," he said as he gave America's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Rosemary gaped. "There's more talkie stuff?!"
"Tell me about it, kiddo." America chuckled.
Back in the conference room, he plopped down into his own seat and tried not to let the afternoon sessions lull him to sleep the same way it sent Rosemary into a peaceful slumber. Since his plan to speak to England at the conference had failed, he needed to figure out an alternate way to achieve his happy reunion.
The mid-afternoon break came and went without any surprises. It was the time when England normally would have rushed off to find a cup of tea, and America would have joined him with a cup of joe. They might have snuck into a closet for coffee- and tea-flavored kisses, though England was usually good about insisting that they finish before the meeting resumed. This time, America drank his coffee alone.
As he returned, he noticed Scotland giving him a thoughtful look and it occurred to him that England's brothers might actually be able to help if he could just convince them that Rosemary was really England's child. Then again, their 'help' might consist of getting England drunk and dropping him off at America's house. It wouldn't be the first time.
"America!" Germany shouted.
He looked up and blinked, realizing that everyone was staring at him again. "What now?" he asked, wondering what rule he had broken.
"As I said, it's time for your presentation."
"Oh... right. Uh, what's the topic again?" America asked. With everything that had been going on between him and England, he had completely forgotten to prepare.
Germany sighed. "Nuclear disarmament."
"Oh, come on. You always make me do nuclear disarmament!" America protested. "I don't even have the biggest stockpile. You should make Russia give the speech."
"It's not the size of the stockpile that matters, it is the skill of the operator," France joked.
"Russia's topic is the importance of an independent press," Germany said with a straight face. Sometimes America suspected that he actually did have a sense of humor.
"All right, fine, fine." America walked to the podium with Rosemary still strapped to his chest. He started in on his standard we're-really-trying-to-cut-down-the-size-of-our-pile speech, but he soon found himself interrupted by Finland of all people.
"Germany, why not ask America to cover a different topic instead? I'd like to hear him discuss family-friendly work policies," Finland suggested.
"I want to hear how he plans to reduce his stockpile," Russia insisted.
"Then maybe you should resume bilateral negotiations." Finland's sweet, polite smile looked strange compared to the creepy grin on Russia's face, but he didn't back down. Living with Sweden had probably done wonders for his ability to ignore scary expressions.
"Yeah!" America was happy to do anything that irritated Russia. He gave Finland a thumbs-up and nodded cheerfully. "It's been kind of hard to keep working when I need to take care of Rosie here. I mean, she does a good job of taking care of herself, but the White House doesn't have a place for kids, so she has to stay quiet for the whole day. And nannies don't just magically float into your house on an umbrella. I can't believe Walt lied to me."
"Sometimes I help Daddy with his work!" she said, beaming at the nations. Although she took after England in appearance, America could tell that she definitely had his personality.
"That's right, sweetie. You did a great job color-coding those files." America glanced around the conference room. Many of the nations seemed bored, but at least the Nordics were giving him encouraging smiles. "Anyway, we've pretty much set up an economy where everyone is expected to have someone at home to take care of the kids. But that isn't always possible, you know. So I'm thinking it'd be a good idea if we paid folks so they could stay home and do that."
Canada sighed. "Al, almost everyone other than you has paid parental leave."
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Oh." Not one to be easily discouraged, America quickly bounced back. "Well, I guess I'll get working on that then. Also, robot nannies! They would be awesome."
Japan nodded eagerly. "Yes, I agree with America-san."
The rest of the room laughed (America suggesting robots as the solution to every world problem had become a bit of a world punch line) and Germany called out the name of the next speaker, someone who had actually prepared for their assigned topic. America returned to his seat and tuned out again, too busy worrying about his situation with England to even bother with his normal interruptions. Because Germany factored time for interruptions into the schedule, the conference ended early, giving the happy nations plenty of time to get ready for happy hour.
"Is it over? Can we go see Father now?" Rosemary asked.
"Oh, honey... he couldn't make it to the conference. I'm not sure when we'll get a chance to see him," America replied. He wished that he hadn't promised her that they would have a chance to see England during the conference. It seemed that he had been breaking a lot of promises lately.
"I want to see him."
"Me too, honey. Me too."
America hastily rubbed away his misty eyes as he noticed Scotland headed his way. The nation approached carefully and held up his palms in a gesture of peace. "I'm still not sure what to think about you," he admitted, "but I'd like to give the wee lass a chance to talk with England."
"Really?" America leapt out of his chair in excitement, his earlier sadness immediately forgotten in a rush of joy. "England's here? You gotta let me come talk to him!" he cried, jumping forward and shaking Scotland by his shoulders. He needed to seize his chance. If he could just talk with England for more than a few minutes, he knew he could explain everything.
Scotland glared and brushed off America's hands. "He's not here. We planned a videochat after the conference so I could update him on what happened."
"Well can I just—"
"No!" Scotland interrupted. "He's willing to talk to the lass, but he doesn't want to talk to you."
"Oh." America's face fell. He glanced down at Rosemary and brushed her hair behind her ear. "What do you say, Rosie, do you want to talk to England?"
She nodded eagerly. "Yes! Yes yes!"
With a touch of reluctance and sorrow that he couldn't talk to England himself, America unstrapped her from the body carrier and handed the toddler over to Scotland. He missed her warmth as soon as she left his hands, but he couldn't keep her away from her chance to talk with her other father. Even if he wasn't able to patch up his relationship with England, Rosemary deserved to have both of her parents. "Be good for Uncle Scottie," he told her.
"I will," she promised with a smile.
"Scotland! Call me as soon as you're done!" America called after them.
He found Canada waiting for him by the conference room door and he was more than willing to join Canada for dinner. Even if Canada did pick a restaurant known for its poutine. America settled for a mooseburger and sighed.
"What am I doing wrong?" he asked as he despondently dunked a fry in ketchup.
Canada arched an eyebrow. "Do you honestly want an answer to that?"
"Yeah." America nodded. He didn't like to ask for help. But when it came to matters of the heart... he clearly needed help.
"Okay, here goes." Canada took a deep breath. "First, everything terrible that is happening to you is your own damn fault. You tried to scare England in an idiotic manner, which, I'll admit, is just you being you. But then you encouraged him to think that you were really pregnant. And instead of talking to him about whether creating a micronation would be a good idea, you went behind his back. Honestly, Al. If you can't have a mature conversation with your boyfriend, how are you supposed to take care of a child?"
America nibbled the fry as he considered Canada's list of accusations. He had to admit that Canada was mostly right. "Okay, I know I shouldn't have lied. But part of the reason he's refusing to talk to me is because he thinks I kidnapped Rosemary."
Canada arched an eyebrow. "Given everything else you've done, it's not an outlandish suggestion. Think about it. You're basically the Boy Who Cried Wolf."
"That doesn't make sense."
"It makes perfect sense."
"But I never told England I was being attacked by a wolf!"
"No, Al." Canada planted his face in his hands. "The moral of the story is that if you keep lying to people they'll start to believe that everything you say is a lie."
"Geez. That's a terrible lesson. If someone lies a couple of times you're supposed to let them get eaten by wolves?"
"It's not about wolves!" Canada sighed. "Just... forget I brought it up. The important question is: what are you going to do when you finally talk to England?"
"I'm going to apologize to him."
"And then what?"
"And then he'll forgive me." America smiled. He couldn't wait until England forgave him. Make-up sex was the best sex.
Canada tossed his hands into the air in exasperation. "You're hopeless! You don't actually think you did anything wrong. You're just hoping that if you mouth the right words, England will fall into your arms again."
"Hey! If you think I'm in the wrong then why are you even helping me?" America complained, finishing off the last of his fries with a petulant bite.
"Oh, Al." Canada's expression softened. "I know you didn't do any of this to be mean. And when England called to invite me to the baby shower... I'm not sure I've ever heard him so excited for something in his entire life."
"He was so happy, Mattie. What was I supposed to do?"
"You should have told him that you had never realized that having a child meant so much to him, and that you would do everything you could to make his wish a reality."
America's mouth formed an O of surprise. Thinking about it, he realized that his brother was right. England would have been just as happy with the truth. And if he had been honest from the beginning they would be together. He shook his head in anger. "I wish I had never gotten that stupid idea to pretend to be pregnant."
Canada reached across the table and patted his brother's shoulder. "You need to show him that you're truly, genuinely, deeply sorry."
"I just... damn it," America took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "You're the one who's good at apologizing!"
"Al, I know you're really upset right now. So I'm going to ignore that."
"Thanks, bro." America gave his twin a wan smile. "Maybe Rosemary will do a good job of convincing England that she's ours, and he'll be willing to talk with me."
With that cheerful thought in mind, he pulled out his phone and called Scotland. When he reached voicemail instead, he decided to head back to the hotel to pick up his daughter directly. Maybe if he was lucky, Scotland would be willing to pass a message to England.
The same receptionist from the previous night greeted him in the hotel's lobby. "Good evening, sir. Are you still interested in a room? We've just had a few unexpected openings."
"Nah. Could you just patch me through to Alistair Kirkland?"
She gave him a confused look. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Kirkland has already checked out."
America froze and felt a cold fear begin to swell in his chest. "Did he have a little girl with him? She would be about three, blond, wearing green clothes," he said, trying to keep his voice casual. "I think we got a little mixed up in our plans for who was going to take Rosemary to the airport." He didn't want to get the police involved. Not when the only 'birth certificate' he had for his daughter was an official government land transfer.
"Oh, yes!" The receptionist smiled. "I remember her. She was very sweet."
"Thank you, miss." America grabbed Canada by the arm and pulled him outside. "That bastard stole her!" he shouted as soon as the doors closed behind them.
"They might still be at the airport! Get in!" Canada climbed into the driver's seat. America jumped into the passenger's seat and slammed the door so hard he left a dent. He didn't care. He had already damaged his most important relationship, possibly beyond repair. He couldn't lose his daughter too.
They sped down Montreal's streets and once at the airport, Canada abused his government powers to make the ticket agents tell him the flight time for Alistair Kirkland. Awed by Matthew Williams' badge, the agent apologized profusely. "I'm so sorry, sir. His flight for London took off ten minutes ago."
"Damn it!" America swore.
"I could make them redirect the flight..." Canada suggested.
"No." America frowned and shook his head. "We don't need our bosses involved. He's taking her to England, so I know she'll be safe."
"Looks like we need two tickets to London."
America clenched his fists. "Yeah, except England's put me on a do not fly list!"
A slow smile spread across Canada's face. "Well, isn't it lucky for you that you have a twin who is still in England's good graces?"
"Really?" America gasped and then grinned so widely that his cheeks hurt. He pulled Canada into a tight hug and gratefully accepted the Canadian's passport.
Exactly two hours later, he was boarding his own flight to London with nothing but his wallet, his phone, and the clothes on his back. Despite his worry for Rosemary, he felt ready to face the world as the plane lifted off the ground. He was going to get his daughter back, and he was going to get England back, and nothing in the world was going to stop him.
4 of 6
Author's Notes
I've really been enjoying the reviews that debate who's mostly in the wrong here. I just wanted to make everyone's actions and reactions understandable. Even Scotland, who definitely should not be kidnapping Rosemary, is doing it because he thinks she's a British citizen. Also, I have a headcanon that Scotland loves children. He's got to protect those wee bairns!
FanFunForAll66: If you're still reading, thank you for the touching compliments and I hope you're enjoying the story as America's lies begin biting him in the ass. I can understand why the Glee fake-pregnancy storyline would turn you off from fake pregnancy stories.
Finally, an alternate title for this story: "The Nation Who Cried Pregnant" ;)