ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
IMPORTANT VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE OF IMPORTANCE: Okay, so I screwed up. Looking back over the chapters I've posted so far, I realized that I have failed to make clear something of great importance in the story to my readers (hence the Important Author's Note of Importance).
America does not, I repeat, DOES NOT care for Margaret personally right now. He doesn't even know her! The only reason she matters to him at all is because she's his capital. The "connection" America feels is the connection between a nation and a part of its land. America's reasons for searching for her are as follows:
1) She's the personification of his capital. It's in the interest of national security to at least keep an eye on her.
2) His promise to Native America. It invoked in him a sense of responsibility, which was only compounded when he saw for himself how young she was.
3) She's the personification of his capital. OF COURSE HE'S CURIOUS.
I know that it's not a good sign when a writer has to rely on an author's note like this one to get the true character motivations across. I'll probably go back and edit this story after I've finished it to try and make it less crappy. *curls up in a dark corner and quietly dies of humiliation*
Also, while I'm writing a freakishly long author's note, I thought I should go ahead and announce that there will be NO SLASH. NEVER. NOT HAPPENING, SORRY. I can't write the stuff to save my life, and quite frankly I don't want to.
Margaret is not about to be anyone's love interest anytime soon. At least, not until much later in the story. The focus of this story is not romance. I'm not saying there will be none, but relationships in this story will be predominately friendship and familial.
Okay, moving on. Introducing the next chapter! Reviews are always welcome and make great motivators. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Five
It took some polite convincing on Canada's part, but eventually England agreed to come. When the Brit showed up the next day, he was even more irritable than usual. America made the mistake of going to the airport to pick up England by himself, leaving Canada to rest back at his house. As he withered under the displeased Englishman's scrutiny, America deeply regretted this decision.
"Alright, what is so important that I just had to cancel all of my previous, actually important, engagements?" England snapped as he climbed into the passenger's seat of America's favorite red pickup truck.
America winced, gripping the steering wheel tightly and starting the engine all as he studiously avoided eye contact.
"Ah, well… um."
"Eloquent as always," England drawled, rolling his eyes impatiently.
It was America's turn to glare, although his was pitiable in comparison to England's stern glower. America decided England's more-than-slightly prominent eyebrows gave him an unfair advantage, and so did not let the loss dishearten him. Much.
"I'll explain when we get to the house," America mumbled, dismally turning his attention to task of driving.
As they sped down the road America didn't so much as glance at his passenger or speak a word. England was uncomfortable. The quiet was tense, and the Brit found himself growing- dare he think it? - worried for the little twat. This wasn't how they played the game. England would act posh and grumpy and America would be loud and obnoxious, and they would argue, but no one's feelings would be actually hurt because it was all just a game. Playing roles and tiptoeing around each other's true feelings and acting as everyone generally expected; that was how they coped. If they were simple frenemies, there was no need to bring up the ugly past or remove the masks they had donned after everything fell apart. They could not bear to be completely shut off from each other, not after the World Wars had brought them together again, but likewise they did not dare to go any deeper or to open up any wider. They both feared what they would find if they did.
So they had a system in place, and it was working just fine, thank you very much. But now America wasn't playing along with it, and England didn't know what to do.
"Are you alright?" England found himself asking against his better judgement, only to scowl at himself inwardly. He hadn't meant to sound so concerned.
America stiffened almost imperceptibly, distressed and torn in how he should answer. It was one thing to give Canada such sensitive information, but to tell England the whole story would be a leap of faith America wasn't sure he was ready to make. Quite frankly, this was the conversation he had been secretly dreading all day. Still, what choice did he have? None, in the end. Despite his flippant attitude, America had not made the suggestion of calling England for help- as opposed to Norway or even Romania- on a whim, however much he had striven to make it appear so in front of Canada. If he had no choice but to seek the assistance of someone from Europe, he thought it should be the one European he trusted most. He had known from the beginning that no cheerful excuse would fly. Not this time.
Well, nothing for it then.
"Here goes," America thought ruefully.
"England," America began, catching the other's attention instantly by the use of his country name. "What I'm about to tell you… Well, it's serious. I am entrusting you with highly classified information that deals with my national security. The reason you are here and we are having this conversation is because I am in need of your assistance, and my government has agreed that the unique situation calls for you being in the know."
They had reached a stop sign, and here America paused, taking the time to meet England's gaze. England blinked in shock, before gathering himself and nodding grimly for America to continue. He wisely decided not make a wisecrack about America using big words. He had a strong feeling that now was not the time for such things. The intersection cleared and they drove on. As the streets and houses passed by, America told England everything. Like with Canada, he left no detail out. Unlike with Canada, he was not comfortable doing so. He finished his account just as they pulled into his driveway. America set the parking break and turned off the engine. An oppressive, awkward atmosphere smothered the inhabitants of the still truck as England sat back, mind whirling as he tried to comprehend what he had just heard.
"You need me to find this girl?" the Brit said at last, deciding to focus on the practical thing.
"If you can. I mean, that would be… great."
Silence fell again.
"Oh look! We're here!" America said loudly, adding a nervous laugh.
"So we are," England agreed, and the two clambered out the truck, both grateful for the escape. England hauled his luggage up to the front porch (with much unwanted assistance from America), and Canada opened the door for them. As they stepped inside Canada greeted England politely and received an equally polite greeting in return. America was a little amused by the overdone formality, but kept his tongue for once. Instead, he asked to take England's belongings to the second guest room for him, an offer which England reluctantly accepted. Canada escorted the British nation to the living room where they both sat down.
"Has America filled you in?" Canada inquired.
"Yes. I think you should take me to the sight where the girl vanished as soon as possible. I have an idea what kind magic may have been used, but if I am to track this girl down I need to get there before all the traces of magic have faded away," England explained.
"We can go as soon as you're ready. There's nothing left for us to do here," Canada said.
"Yeah," America agreed, who had come back in time to hear the tail end of their conversation. "We've been over all the security footage, and I've done all the paperwork my government has thrown at me."
"Paperwork? What kind of paperwork?" Canada asked in confusion.
"Well, apparently registering a new personification is going to take a lot of work. We've done about as much as we can, but to finalize the process we need to actually know D.C.'s human identity."
"And that is where I will come in," England said determinedly.
"Then let's go!" America paused. "Uh, where are we going?"
"To the scene," Canada said with a sigh.
"Right!"
Not long after, the three nations surrounded the place where the mystery girl had disappeared. It had been blocked off by police not long after America's first discussion with the President, and England was grateful for it. The less passerby over the spot, the longer traces of magic would linger. Kneeling where America indicated, England chanted a few things under breath. Canada and America watched in fascination, not understanding a word he said. At last England stood, appearing very satisfied.
"It was a very strong magic. More than enough of it remains for me to trace it," England reported, dusting his pants off.
"You can do that?" America muttered quietly in awe. He did not really want to admit how impressive it was, but he was not able to deny it either.
"Of course I can," England said proudly. "I know just the spell to use."
"Will you need anything to perform it?" Canada asked curiously.
"I need a mirror to perform it properly, but any reflection will do."
"I don't have a mirror," America said with a frown.
"Do you think we could use the camera on my phone?" Canada asked, holding it out. "All we have to do is turn the camera around."
"That will work fine," England decided, taking the offered device. "You might want to stand back."
The two North Americans did so rather nervously. England braced himself and stood tall, holding the phone up high with the screen turned towards himself. He began to chant strange words in a language neither America nor Canada had ever heard before. Abruptly, a green light began to surround England, emitting brightly from the phone. Canada made a sound like a dismayed squeak (though he would later claim it was manly), worried about the fate of his poor cellphone.
"1633 Hickory Drive, Aucilla, Michigan!" England shouted.
Canada and America blinked at each other. Realization striking like a bolt of lightning, America scrambled to dig his own phone out of his coat pocket and hastily wrote the address in the note app. It was a good thing he did, because they would have forgotten it after what happened next. England gave a sudden cry of alarm and tossed the phone away. It blew up in midair. Canada screamed.
England scowled at the smoking remains of the device, and then turned apologetically to the Canadian.
"I'm sorry Mathew. I hoped it wouldn't do that…"
Canada's shoulders slumped as he resigned himself to buying a new cellphone.
"So was that the address? That's where she is?" America asked eagerly.
"It's where the magic took her, at any rate," England replied.
America's jubilant smile stretched from ear to ear.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'd never have found her if it weren't for you, Iggy!" America cheered, glomping the Brit.
"Y-you're very welcome," England mumbled, a light blush tinting his cheeks.
Releasing his flustered ex-guardian, America turned to Canada.
"And thank you too, Mattie!"
"You're welcome," Canada said happily, glad to be acknowledged.
"Tomorrow, I'm going to Michigan!" America declared.
"I will too," England said. "If you don't mind."
"And me," Canada added. "I came here to help you, and I'm seeing it through to the end."
"Aww, thanks, guys!" America beamed. "In that case, tomorrow, WE are going to Michigan!"