Request for America having children 'states' and Daddy Norway. Minnesota as Norway's child. I twisted it a bit to be any country that colonized in America had a child with her. When it became The United States of America. Therefore there are not multiple children for certain Countries. However, they are all named after states.
Everybody only gets one.
Will be a story Arc and turn to humor after laying this groundwork.
Rated T for implication and language.
OoOoOo
"Who is my daddy?" The little boy asked while playing in the tub with various colorful bath toys. The sea of foam bubbles were the perfect companion to his squirting blue whale. Which was held tightly in his left hand as he splashed it back down.
America stilled. Her blue eyes widened as she looked up from soaping the washcloth that was shaped like a frog. She tensed, but smiled all the same. America tucked a stray lock of hair back nervously. Hoping she'd misheard him.
"What?" She asked patiently, in the nurturing tone she always had around her children.
The blonde haired boy looked at his mother with a serious look that reminded her painfully of his father.
"Well, everyone else gets to see their daddies sometimes and I haven't seen mine. So, who is my daddy?" The stray lock of hair, that was attached to nothing caught her attention. It dripped some bubbles back into the water.
Her features gentled, understanding what he was refereeing too. She slipped the soapy cloth over his arm. Her eyes downcast. What did she say in a moment like this?
The United States of America, USA or America for short, had many children. Just as her neighbor Canada did. In fact, some of her children shared the same fathers as Canada's. It was just a fact of history. However, there was one large difference between America and Canada.
America's other children were all daughters, she had only one son. They were named after her states, though the boundaries had changed with time. They were as she knew them. In fact, little Minnesota she had thought would be a girl. Hence his name, but it had not turned out that way. Though she had no idea why she only had one son, it had simply turned out that way. Her children ranged from ages 10-4 physically, and maturity wise it was rather apt as well. They argued over laws and ideals constantly, as well as anything else they could think of.
They were, after all, children.
She sighed as she focused on her only son sitting expectantly in the tub, staring at her.
"Well, sweetie," America started softly, "you've never really wanted to know before-"
"But," her son interrupted quickly, "Florida talks about her papa Spain all the time. New York grows tulips for-"
"The Netherlands," America murmured while nodding her head. "You're right. And yes, I know that Maryland talks with Sweden often."
Her son stilled and looked at her with a sad look.
"Doesn't daddy love me?"
She blinked, and stilled her hand.
"What?" Her brows knit in confusion.
Minnesota began to sniffle, his voice turning high pitched. "I hear them talk about their daddies and I want to know where mine went."
It nearly broke her heart. She pulled her child into a hug, not caring about the fact he was wet and soapy. She hushed him down and gave him a peck on the forehead.
"I'm sorry," she whispered and it was the truth.
America had waited, she always waited, until the day her children asked about their fathers. It was not out of meanness or unkindness. It was that most of her children were young, some very young, and did not understand that though her country might not get along with their respective father, America would.
America had made it a point to keep the relationships between her children's fathers and herself a constant. No matter which way politics swayed, she wanted her kids to have the opportunity to know whoever their father was.
She never wanted them to have their hearts broken, or be caught in the middle of some political jargon. So she nurtured and cared for her children until they finally asked the question she knew would come.
'Who is my father?'
And she always told them. Like she was fixing to do now.
"Mama, who is my daddy?" Minnesota asked again.
"Norway," America murmured with a smile. "Your daddy's name is Norway."
The light returned to her little boy's eyes and he looked at her eagerly.
"Do you have a picture of him? What is he like? Does he look like me?"
She laughed as the questions started at a mile a minute. America gazed at him fondly. Rinsing the soap off of him. It was harder than usual because he kept squirming and asking her all about Norway. She answered as best as she could as she reached over and started draining the tub.
Perhaps it was time. Minnesota was similar to the physical appearance and mentality of a five year old. Though chronologically he was much older.
Taking care of her children was a large part of the reason that America never stayed behind after meetings. There was always someone that needed help, or had gotten stuck, or broken something, or countless other everyday 'emergencies'.
Like the time Pennsylvania got stuck up the apple tree, and refused to climb down because she was too 'Awesome' to admit she was terrified.
"I have an idea," She replied with a motherly tone, "instead of just telling you; Why don't we go see him?"
The little boy's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Of course." America said as she started to put the bath toys away. "But, you have to get out of the tube first."
She helped him dry off and as he dressed she went and got her cell phone. If she was taking one child to see his father, she needed to take them all.
OoOoOo
The fathers of America's children came from all over the globe. In fact, Canada -her northern neighbor- and she had a daughter together.
She called Canada first, asking if their daughter could come and stay with him for a little while. To visit. All of America's children lived with her. Not in separate states, but in her home, toward the central area of the United States. Her eldest only being physically and emotionally ten years old made America more than bit protective of them.
All of them.
And they were all well aware of that fact. So it was not very often that they were allowed to go visit with their fathers, because of politics or wars that were cropping up all over the place.
However, her daughters understood what was happening. They had all gone through it themselves. They kept Minnesota busy while she placed call after call.
Crossing Canada off her list, because he readily agreed to see the only child that did not live with him. Though America was much more inclined to allow joint-custody with Canada, she could not allow their daughter to cross the border willy-nilly.
OoOoOo
She dialed Russia next.
"Amerika?" His deep voice came over the phone. There was a hint of menace to his tone. "If you are calling about-"
"Dorogoi." she interrupted quickly.
The change was instantaneous.
"What is it? Has something happened to Alaska?" Russia asked in a quiet tone, his concern clear.
"No," America rushed to assure him. "nothing like that."
Russia and America had worked out an understanding a long time ago that if she called him by any endearment, their daughter was in the room. It kept them from saying anything that might hurt Alaska to hear. Or from trading their usual insults.
The Cold War had been a steep reminder to Russia that even if they were at odds, he was never to break the rule. Alaska would be loved by both her parents, no matter what was happening between them. During the latter part of World War II, he had been furious at America for butting into his plans for East Germany.
He had said some things, very unkind things about America, and the female nation had been fine with that. Shrugging it off. However, when Russia had alluded to telling Alaska all about her 'Whore' or a mother, America had snapped.
She forbade Russia from seeing their daughter until he could grow up and act like a father and not a nation.
He had been beyond furious, ready to tear America apart. Tensions between them had been very high, and in private they had come to blows a few times. However, through it all-though he would not find out until later when relations between them stabilized- America had told their daughter that no matter what happened Russia would always love Alaska.
When he was allowed to see Alaska again, many years later, his daughter had been overjoyed to see him. There was no suspicion or anger in her violet eyes. She chattered away about how glad she was that he 'wasn't busy anymore'.
Busy.
That had been America's excuse for over a decade. That Russia had been busy, but loved Alaska. America had even made certain to buy their daughter presents during her birthdays and holiday that had been addressed from him.
It had humbled him somewhat. To have the knowledge that America refused to use their daughter in any aspect of their relations. She had told him firmly that when Alaska was around they were her parents. Not nations.
Fuck the rest of the world.
Russia, had found himself smiling at her vulgar certainty. He had made certain to never even hint at breaking that one fundamental rule.
However, America also very rarely ever called him about Alaska either. His daughter was named after the state, but had come about when Russia had forgotten that he had colonized in North America far earlier on. When America had taken over the old colony, she discovered she was carrying 'Alaska'.
It had been an interesting letter. One that Russia had been forever glad he had not burned.
"Then what is the matter?" He asked gruffly, his heart racing.
"Would... would you be willing to have Alaska visit for a little while?" America asked gently.
He felt his face twist in surprise.
"A visit?" He repeated, making certain he heard her.
"Yeah," she replied kindly, "in your homeland."
He heard an excited squeal from the other end of the phone.
"...ska. Not so loud. He hasn't agree yet, missy." He heard America say father away.
He smiled.
"Da, America." Russia said happily. "Alaska can come for a visit."
"Wonderful," she said, back to her normal volume. "Do you think you could meet us in Europe? I'm dropping off some of the other kids with their fathers...as soon as I get a hold of them."
America was letting her children out of the country? He was tense once more. Did he need to protect Alaska? Had someone threatened America? He narrowed his eyes at the nearest wall. If the wall had been capable of movement, it would have slunk backward in fear.
"What is going on?" He asked simply.
America sighed, and he could hear the nervousness in the expression.
"Minnesota asked about his father today." She said by way of explanation.
Russia's eye brows nearly disappeared into his hair line.
"He did?"
"Yeah."
He found himself curious. No one knew who Minnesota's father was. America had kept her only son away from Russia. Actually, she kept all her children away from the countries that weren't their father. He remembered when Alaska was furious she could not go visit France with her sister. It was actually a very wise decision on America's part.
She protected Alaska as fiercely as she did all her other children.
Russia approved, and admired the blonde nation for it. Though he would never say it out loud.
"Are you going to take him to see his father then?"
"Yes, of course," America replied as if not taking him was never an option.
Though Russia often wondered why the boy's father had never visited. He came to see his daughter as often as he could.
"Ah, I see." And he did. It would be hard enough for another nation to meet their child for the first time. It would be difficult for America to be distracted by all her other children.
Only those that had children with America knew about them at all. It was a safety measure.
"So, can you meet us in Germany?" She asked kindly.
He nodded, even though she could not see it.
"Just tell me when, da?"
"Three days?"
"I will be there."
"Bye Dorogoi," she said softly, a loud crash over powered most of her word, but he heard it.
"Goodbye, MIlaya Moyna," Russia replied as they disconnected.
He had some planning to do. His daughter was coming home for a visit!
OoOoOo
Sweden nearly fell over sideways when America had introduced him to their daughter over a century ago. He had been part of a few nations that had tried to colonize North America. And, he had been successful. He had, along with other Nordic nations found purchase on soil that would later become part of the United States of America.
So now, he had a little girl with America. Though it was fair to state that Sweden had more than one child. One was actually a micro-nation, that only really existed on the internet, and some of his other colonies earlier on.
However, with America he had a daughter. A sweet child that was not much older than four.
When America called him, he eagerly agreed to take her for a little while. He had much he wanted to show his darling daughter. She had his unassuming nature and America's smile. Though her hair was very much like his and the darker blonde strands fell in soft locks over her face in a few places.
He loved her instantly, and would take her to see the country side. He wanted to start teaching her his language. She was a bright little thing, his Maryland.
However, he was going to keep her away from his neighbor.
He... hadn't told Norway about her. It was part of the rules he and America had set down. Only those she had children with were to know about them.
Sweden canceled all his upcoming meetings and called Finland. If Sweden was getting Maryland, then Finland was getting New Jersey.
OoOoOo
Denmark checked his e-mail . There was a message from America.
It just said 'Call me'.
Hm. He wondered what all that was about. With a happy grin he dialed her number.
"Hello?"
"Hallo America, it's Denmark."
"Oh hi!" She said again. "Hey listen, do you think you could-"
There was a suddenly screaming in the background.
"Minnesota, don't chase Delaware around with a toad," America reprimanded with an sharp tone.
"-rry Mama," the boy replied.
Denmark smothered a laugh. He'd have to teach his daughter to be tougher about amphibians. When America had told him that his colonization had resulted in a daughter, he'd been flabbergasted. He hadn't thought it worked that way. He'd tried colonizing in Sweden and Norway, but it had never brought anything or anyone about.
However, with America, she'd given him a little girl that was the happiest thing around and he loved her dearly.
He was also a little fond of the girl's mother.
"How is Delaware, by the way?" He asked eagerly. He had a few children, he discovered later on, but none of them had inherited his personality quite like Delaware had.
"Fine. Anyway, about this week..."
OoOoOo
A woman with blonde hair, a cowlick, and glasses stumbled through the airport. Several small children held hands behind her. America had three guards helping her keep track of her kids. They pulled a veritable wagon of baggage along with them. America had one hand on New York who was currently riding on her shoulders, and the other on the conga-line of her other children.
She was expedited through security, though it still took over an hour to get all the kids through. She booked an entire plane to herself and the kids. Along with the various members of security and a few extra seats for the pets that some of her daughters had refused to go without.
America had too much to do and concern herself with. She wasn't even going to argue.
Most of the nations had agreed to meet her in Germany. Russia would be there. Spain had sent word he would be waiting at the baggage claim for Florida yesterday. Prussia of course would be there for Pennsylvania and Germany was coming to pick up their daughter as well. Finland and Sweden would be waiting for them all to arrive together. England was eager to see Virginia. Denmark was coming for Delaware. The Netherlands had insisted on coming to get New York from the air port.
Actually, all of the nations insisted on meeting America at the airport, for which she was exceedingly grateful.
France had been nearly over the moon, stating that he needed something good to happen in his life right now. America was letting Louisiana stay longer than originally planned, to cheer France up.
Suddenly Colorado fell and started crying. America moved New York off her back and looked at her smaller daughter. She picked her up and dusted off her knees.
"Hey honey," America crooned gently, "you're fine. Where's my big girl?"
Colorado sniffled and quieted before pointing to herself.
"There ya go gorgeous." The nation said with a smile. "Now grab my hand and will be done very soon."
The TSA worker gave her a knowing look. America could tell she had the pity of many a mother in line with her. The girls did their best to keep from bounding all over the walls, Minnesota was trying to climb on the conveyer belt.
America sighed and lifted him off with one hand.
He was so much like her sometimes.
Finally they were through security and America looked down the long expanse of ground she had to cover to get to their gate.
"I'm Hungry."
"I'm thirsty."
"I have to tinkle."
"I have to pee."
"Can I have a cookie?"
"Which one is our plane?"
"Hey, can we get some head phones for the plane ride? Please?"
"I think I feel sick."
America closed her eyes and counted to ten. If any nation wanted to know why she didn't travel with the kids ver often, this was why.
"Florida hit me!"
"Did not!"
"Did too."
"Nevada bit me!"
"So what?"
"I think Iowa threw up..."
America turned.
Yes. Yes Iowa had.
The people looked on in sympathy for the poor woman who was obviously on a class field trip of some sort.
OoOoOo
They took fifteen minutes just to get everyone off the plane. America put the oldest girls up front, because she could trust them and watched after the younger ones. The guards followed, helping keep the children from getting lost or separated as they made their way down to baggage claim.
America turned and looked around.
They should be here somewhere...
Ah.
There.
There was a milling group of extremely handsome men that were all looking excited, bored, or irritated at having to wait next to a nation they did not like.
Bingo.
America put her fingers to her lips and let out an ear-piercing whistle.
All eyes snapped toward her. Several nations smiled widely, and it was as if a stampede of buffalo came rushing at the American group. Prussia pushed Germany out of the way and was the first to come collect a daughter. Most of the countries had other children, but they understood that America only brought them all out for a special reason.
Some gave her looks of encouragement.
America waved at him tiredly. He smirked back at her. She needed coffee.
Finland, as if by magic, was at her side with a Styrofoam cup in his hand.
God she loved Finland for the wonderful nation he was.
He gave her a quick peck on the forehead and scooped New Jersey up in his arms. The blonde girl giggled and gave Finland a large hug.
"How was the flight?" he asked kindly.
America just shook her head. Iowa simply got... nervous sometimes. But, then again, she was Austria's daughter.
Her blue eyes wandered to do a head count. Russia was here, and Alaska had already managed to launch herself at him. Good. Finland had New Jersey, and Sweden was picking up Maryland. Spain was swinging Florida around in his arms and exclaiming something happily.
He paused and winked at America. She blushed.
The Netherlands collected New York, who also looked a great deal like her father. Denmark and Delaware nearly crushed in a large, exuberant hug. England was offering Virginia tea... already. Well, that was fine.
Ireland stood behind England, waiting patiently. Protugal had located their dark-haired daughter, roughly the physical age of seven and swung her on his shoulders.
This was the only time every nation was happy with America. She laughed quietly to herself.
France made his way toward her and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. His way of thanking her for brining Louisiana to stay with him.
"Alright," America said after a moment, and a long sip of coffee. "Girls!"
Her daughters all turned toward her, with rapt attention.
"Be good to your fathers. Listen to them. You know I love you all."
There was a chorus of 'love you too's' and America smiled.
She trusted the male nations to keep the kids safe.
"If you need me at all," she said addressing the nations, "my cell phone will be on, and you can reach me at any time."
Minnesota peaked up at her, and America smiled. She could see the question in his eyes.
"We have one more plane ride, alright? Then we can go see your daddy." She reassured soothingly.
The male nations looked at Minnesota, then back at America.
Denmark and The Netherlands started laughing hysterically.
"Daddy, what's so funny?" Delaware asked sweetly.
"Nothing," Denmark wheezed, trying to contain himself.
Prussia was less tactful.
"Really?" He asked with wide eyes looking at Minnesota. "Norway?"
America started downing her coffee again as she blushed furiously.
OoOoOo
Sweden, Finland, and their children all went with America to the next gate. They were headed in a similar direction. However, they parted ways and America kissed her girls goodbye. She gave Finland and Sweden a hug.
America grabbed Minnesota's hand as they embarked on the last flight to see his father.
When the plane landed, America was ready to sleep for a hundred years, but it wasn't time yet. She placed Minnesota in a booster seat she'd rented from the rental car place and they were off.
"Momma?" her little boy asked after a few minutes.
"Yes, honey?"
"Will he like me?"
"He'll love you," America reassured gently. It wasn't a lie. Norway would adore Minnesota. She'd just have to explain things to him.
Like why she'd never tired to really contact him after the first time. Or why everyone else knew about their son except him. Because she'd sworn them all to only speak with nations she had children with, and she'd never told the others Norway was his father.
"Momma?"
"Yes, honey?"
"Does daddy love you?"
She made a noncommittal noise. It was complicated. Which was the super adult way to say that she had no idea how to explain it to a child.
"Daddy and Mommy are very close," she settled on saying. Politically they were not bad off.
"Oh." Minnesota said. Then he was quiet for several minutes.
"Do you love daddy?"
"Yes." America answered truthfully.
"Like you love Louisiana's Daddy? Or New York's?" He questioned innocently.
America swallowed a hard lump in her throat. Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes but she refused to cry in front of her son.
"Well..." She started unsurely, "England was mommy's first love."
Minnesota nodded, his eyes watching her through the rearview mirror.
"And yes, mommy loved France. And Prussia," she added after a moment, pausing in between her words to read the signs.
"And Russia, Spain, Portugal, Canada, Sweden, Finland, Denmark, The Netherlands-"
She paused and thought for a moment. How was this best handled?
"Honey," she said sparing a glance in the mirror at Minnesota. "Mommy loves every nation that has given her one of you wonderful kids."
"So you love daddy?"
"Yes," America said with that traitorous lump in her throat. "He was... very special to mommy."
It took less time than she'd imagined to make it to Norway's house.
She smiled at her son, as he unbuckled his seatbelt and tried to open the car door faster than she could get out.
He really was excited, wasn't he? They approached the house hand in hand. Minnesota was biting his lip and trying to bury himself into her leg.
It was going to be fine.
She rung the doorbell, and waited for a moment. She rubbed her son's back as they both held their breath.
The door opened and the familiar tall blonde nation peeked down at them. His dull blue eyes widened fractionally for a moment.
"America?" He asked with some surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Visiting," America nodded congenially toward the male nation. "I sent you an e-mail about this." She reminded him gently.
"You said it was important?" Norway asked calmly, glancing at America with confusion as to why there was a boy with her.
Her smile never wavered, but she took a deep breath.
"Norway," America said trying to put some warmth into her voice. "There is someone I would like you to meet."
The taller nation stared at her, his face reveling he was rather bored if not slightly curious.
"Norway, this is Minnesota. Minnesota, this is Norway." She said gesturing between them by way of introduction.
The nation's dull blue eyes landed on the child, who was clinging to America's pants. He took in the blonde hair, and the one curl that was attached to nothing. The features that were a perfect blend of the two of them and...
His eyes widened.
When his gaze met hers, America cleared her throat.
"Yes," she answered, confirming what his wide eyes were asking. "He is your son."
Norway stared at her.
"Mama?" Minnesota asked eagerly. "Is this him?"
"Yes, honey," America replied gently, with a look of love at her son. "This is your father. Norway."
"Daddy!" The little boy yelled excitedly, his hand trembling as he barely held onto his mother. His blue eyes were wide. "Hi!"
The male nation froze, looking down at the boy once more. He pushed the door open wider, and gestured them inside.
"I think," Norway said neutrally, "you are correct. We do need to talk."