Homecoming

One Shot 2

Alfred smiled warmly at his Virginian residence. It had been a long time since he had been here, after all. He had to leave for Europe as soon as America had joined the Second World War, not very long after the first one, it seemed. He had tried to stay in isolation this time, he had truly tried, especially for Jackson, but what Japan had done could not be ignored by anyone. It really would be a day that lived on in infamy. In all honesty, he had wanted to get involved earlier, it was only the pleading of his people, president, and little brother that quelled him. Said little brother was less than pleased when had left, even with the newly formed scars on his body, which made this homecoming just as unnerving as it was desired. Of course, when had that ever stalled him before?

He primped his hair with his hand a little, Jackson had always been a stickler for appearances even if he kept his comments about others to himself, and stretched a moment before he grasped the doorknob. Fully prepared to the best of his ability for whatever was going to happen, the sheer number of these things being overwhelming, he flung the door open and stepped in with a sunlight smile. He always had loved making an entrance, even if he was usually more mindful of people. However, something was off the moment he entered the threshold. The house was clean, as always, but it seemed—empty. Even the door slamming into the wall barely provided an echo. It gave the house a lonely feeling.

His smile immediately dropped. He left his little brother in this kind of a house? Oh right, not only had he done it once, but twice. It was a sobering reminder of all the responsibilities he had, not only to his people and himself, but to the others he loved, and the world, even. No one ever said being a superpower was going to be easy, he had never expected it to be for that matter, but someone had to do it. It just so happened that the responsibility had fell on himself. He had just wanted to grow and prosper as country, and when the First World War came around he was drawn into it. Things started to change at that point, and it was starting to peak now. Sure, he was not the only superpower, Ivan was one as well. That brought up a whole new set of issues. He had thought he had gotten to know the man during the Civil War and then the First World War, but you never really know a person, do you? If anything, Ivan was the reason he had to be a superpower, and the best one he could be. Since when had the Commie become more important than his baby brother?

Alfred closed the front door gently and spared a glance to the kitchen before he began to climb the staircase. It did not hurt to look for Jackson, even if he was not here. Admittedly, he was a little disappointed that Jackson had not been there to greet him, but that was the danger of surprise visits. One would think he would have been a little relieved due to his earlier preparation, but he just wanted to get it over with and see his little brother. Anything the kid could do would not be able to match the loneliness he had felt in Europe, or Jackson's own he expected. He paced himself as he peeked into various rooms. In this house his study was on the second floor, a place Jackson frequented for many reasons, some of the most prominent being memories. Alfred had grown up in Virginia in Arthur's house, and he had thought it fitting that Jackson would grow up in Virginia in the house he built with his own hands after the revolution. Though he doubted Jackson remembered, he had actually been present for most of the process. When Virginia had succeeded from the union, the house had become Jackson's for a time, even if he did not stay in it, preferring his homes in Georgia and Louisiana even if he spent most of his time in South Carolina. It was only after the Civil War that he built his own in Virginia, following in his older brother's footsteps. A secret shared between the two after he had was that Alfred actually owned another house in Virginia, one he never stayed in, but kept up with the maintenance. He would never tell Arthur that he had not burned it to the ground all those years ago.

Alfred had nearly run out of rooms on the second floor when he reached his own bedroom, and, even then, the only reason he had opened the door was because he was doing a thorough search. To his surprise, and, admittedly, delight, the boy was there. It brought a smile to the older brother's face to see him huddled under Alfred's own covers. A part of him was a little surprised as well. It was no secret that Jackson could be rather prideful, and he liked to hide this adorable side of him. He was such a good actor that even Alfred did not expect some of the things he did, and this was one of them. It must have been so lonely here, any comfort, even if it was just from his brother's bed, must have been welcomed. Alfred slowly sat down beside the younger's sleeping form and lightly stroked his hair.

"I am sorry I left you alone, will you ever forgive me?" he whispered.

Alfred jumped when he felt arms wrap around him and squeeze.

"In due time, but first you have to realize how much I missed you."

Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Jackson was gone. Shortly after, he began to hear the familiar clanging from the kitchen he knew all too well, yet he sat there stunned silent. So it was going to be this, again? Alfred could not suppress the ensuing sigh, the next few weeks were going to be rough on him. Jackson had acted this exact same way after the First World War, so he knew exactly what was coming. After being tackled into a hug, the younger had then proceeded to give him the cold shoulder for weeks. It was a demonstration of sorts of what the younger had to go through when he was not there. When confronted, Jackson would speak in his polite and kind tone, but his words and actions were that of a sadistic housewife. In many respects, he could be thought of as the exact same thing, being that he took care of the home while Alfred was away and was not afraid in the least to show how displeased he was in being forced to do it alone. Vengeance of sorts, he supposed. Still, he would gladly spend the weeks groveling instead of without his brother. In Europe he had not even been able to talk about him because Jackson did not exist as far as the rest of the world was concerned. Alfred gripped his knee so hard that his knuckles turned white. He did not even know that his brother had made a tour in Europe himself until after the treaty was signed, due to all the responsibilities that had held him. The war that Jackson had been completely against, he joined, and Alfred had not even been there to see him.

After taking a moment to calm himself, Alfred found himself wandering into the kitchen. Like he had expected, Jackson was preparing a meal of sorts. The enticing aroma was already growing in considerable strength. He debated on whether or not he should just stand there and watch. He knew there was no way that Jackson would allow him to help, on anything important at least, but the two did actually cook together and it normally allowed for easy conversation. In all honesty, Alfred was not a horrible cook. He could not taste, so the seasoning was off if anything, but he could follow recipes to the letter. The problem only came in because Jackson liked spice, and adjusting flavoring was just something that Alfred could not do with math and mechanics, at least on the first try, which was why Jackson always cooked to suit his own taste. However, in the years of living together, Alfred had gotten better than even Jackson knew. More often than not, he just cooked when Jackson was sick so the kid could only sometimes taste at all himself, but whenever he was allowed to cook, he was always instructed to follow the recipe to the letter. Alfred never did that. He experimented with the spices, and whether or not Jackson knew it, Alfred could tell if he had hit the mark by Jackson's reactions. The boy had yet to suspect that Alfred was tweaking the recipes, and he was just fine with that.

"Need any help?" Alfred finally asked, leaning against the doorway.

"No."

"But you have quite a bit of work here."

"Stew is not that labor intensive."

"Everything helps."

"Then wash the dishes afterwards."

Well Alfred was getting nowhere with this, but he was not about to give up. He eyed the room quickly and caught sight of something that made him smile. In moments he was peeling potatoes and preparing the other vegetables. Alfred knew that Jackson had not even spared him a glance as the sounds of a knife hitting the cutting board filled the room, but he stayed diligent with his task. It was only after he was nearly done and an excessive sigh was heard that he got his reward.

"What is it that you actually want?"

The words were rather harsh, but his tone truly softened and showed exhaustion.

"To spend time with my baby brother, what else?" Alfred stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

Suddenly he could feel Jackson's eyes burning holes into the back of his neck.

"Maybe, but you have held something on that tongue of yours the entire time. I can read you better than anyone else, remember?"

Alfred nodded, finally stopping his slicing and turning around to face his brother head on. Said man was leaning against a counter himself with his arms crossed, taking in Alfred's form with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Would you like to come to a world meeting with me?"

The question surprised even Alfred. He had meant to be far more tactful in his approach to that ultimate goal. Introducing him to Matthew was probably the best first step. He observed Jackson and immediately realized that the younger had went rigid.

"No."

It was a clipped answer in a weak tone, but Alfred could recognize its finality very clearly.

"Jackie, the rest of the world is not that bad—"

"I said no."

His tone was stronger this time, with a hint of warning.

"But I want to be able to see you more!" Alfred cried, forgetting tact altogether, "I can't shut out the globe anymore. I am a superpower in a world with two totally opposite ideologies. It is the east versus the west, Jackie, and I can no more ignore it than you."

Jackson looked a little taken aback.

"I do not like leaving you like this. Surely you at least believe that. So, meet the other countries, Mattie at least. I mean, we have a common unguarded border after all. You can move up to Europe later. They may be crazy, but that does not mean bad."

Jackson snorted, "Like I want to meet anyone of the people that could not solve their problems with one world war. They really ought to get a hobby."

Alfred smiled, "Hey, we are trying to fix that with things like the United Nations and these meetings."

Jackson abruptly became very serious, "You are not joining anything like that, are you? International institutions are not to be trusted."

Alfred waved him off, "Calm down. Of course I am advocating this kind of thing for the Europeans because they need something to unite them. We both know how confederations are, so let's not even go there. This kind of thing is not for either of us. But really, will you at least meet Mattie?"

Jackson actually paused, and Alfred found himself believing that he had actually won this war after all the years of fighting it. He was sorely mistaken.

"No."

Jackson finally turned back around and busied himself once more with the stew while Alfred stood flabbergasted. After everything he still—

"Is there anyone that you would be willing to meet?"

Alfred had meant that to be sarcastic, but Jackson actually paused again and started to think.

"The Netherlands, maybe."

Alfred blinked.

"You mean Ned?"

Jackson connected gazes with him and nodded, before turning back around and started cooking. Well that was unexpected. Sure, Ned was a great guy, but Alfred never knew that Jackson would be willing to meet him! Admittedly, he was a little odd, but so were all of the countries. He still called Alfred "New Amsterdam," even. Over the years he had just grown to accept it, especially since he had given him money during the Revolutionary War and had always been kind to him. In fact, whenever he did give him money, which he still did on occasion, he would always take a moment to pat his head and say "good boy." It made him feel like a dog, but it was just something the man had always done, and he usually made it a point to visit Ned whenever he could.

"That is great, Jackie, but I have to ask: why Ned?"

"Since when have we ever had a problem with the Netherlands?" Jackson asked.

He had Alfred there.

"So if I invite him over you will stay here to meet him?"

"No."

Alfred sighed, finally returning his attention to his previous task. It was going to be a long few weeks, indeed. Only once he was focused on chopping vegetables again did Jackson allow himself to smile.

"Keep fighting." he murmured, making sure not a single sound was audible.

These weeks were going to be just as long for him, so Alfred had better keep trying. Of course, Jackson had nothing to worry about, and he knew it to. Alfred always kept trying. Jackson was really glad he was finally home.