America x CanadaChapter 2
I struggled to open my heavy eyelids. My eyes quickly adjusted to my surroundings. I was alone in a dark unfamiliar place. Glancing around there was only blackness. A noise to my right startled me. Suddenly a figure was walking towards me. Fear found its way into my mind as the shadow grew closer. I tried to run but my legs felt cemented to the ground. Letting out a sigh, I realized it was the man who had looked like me; the one I had thought was lying in the bed unconscious. My eyes searched for the wounds and bandages he had been sporting earlier. I tipped my head in confusion as he looked perfectly fine, nothing. Opening my mouth I attempted to speak, to ask him what happened but nothing came out. His eyes were closed as he approached me; each step carefully placed and painfully slow. I stepped forward to reach out for him but I still couldn't seem to move from my spot. Like a statue, unable to move, blink or even breathe. Suddenly he disappeared. Glancing around I tried to find him. Loneliness crept its way up my body spreading shivers. Relief quickly overtook the other feelings as the man appeared right beside me. He tilted his head up and finally opened his closed eyelids. I felt as if I had the wind knocked out of me and gasped as the beauty of his eyes shone in front of me. His expressionless face dawned a slight smirk for a few seconds before slipping into its emotionless state once again. Then a little voice started.
"I'm Canada." He said simply, a little smile creeping out. "America. Why?"
"Why what?" I squeaked out finally finding my voice.
"Why would you let this happen? I've done nothing to you, or anyone else. I've always been the peacekeeper." Canada continued in his haunting voice.
"Let what happen?" I asked tilting my head in confusion.
"I was such a sweet little guy. Never getting into fights, always minding my manners, putting others first." He started laughing. "Now look at me."
Suddenly an image appeared in the darkness. It was Canada, lying battered and broken in the bed I had left him in late last night. My heart almost shattered as I listened to his raspy, short and shallow breaths. Every inhale seemed to be a struggle as he lay there unconscious.
"B-but it wasn't my fault." I stammered.
"It was you who was supposed to be in that bed barely clinging to life. But I took the fall for you." Canada's smile faded.
"B-but " was all I could say.
"I'll never be the same. And it's your fault America. You can never escape it." Canada started laughing as he slowly faded away. "Your fault."
"I'm sorry!" I screamed as he totally disappeared.
~~~~~~~ x ~~~~~~~~
"America?" a voice awoke me from my nightmare.
I jolted upright in shock and rubbed my eyes. As they adjusted I was greeted with the concerned face of Britain. Pulling my knees up to my chest I struggled for breath. My whole body shook as I fought off the tears already streaming down my cheeks.
"Whoa, America " Britain said softly, putting his hand on my shoulder.
Glancing up I attempted to look him in the eye but my own were out of focus from the tears. I grabbed the handkerchief beside me and tried to stop the steady flow before blowing my running nose.
"I-I'm fine." I stammered out forcing a small smile.
"Well once you get yourself cleaned up there is breakfast waiting for you." Britain changed the subject, though I knew he didn't fully believe me.
I grunted out a response as he walked out of the room. Breathing deeply and rubbing my temples I tried to force myself to relax. After a mental pep talk I regained my innocence on what had happened, at least from my perspective. Canada had known what he was doing and it was his own fault. Slowly standing I limped to my dresser, pulling out an outfit and started dressing. I couldn't shake the dream though, and I knew it had at least a little bit of truth. That knowledge lingered no matter how many times I shook my head or told myself it wasn't true. I hobbled into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. Normally the person staring back at me was a hero, someone to look up to in my eyes but what looked back at me wasn't normal. Instead stood a tired man with bloodshot eyes, dark bags and messy hair. The natural self worth that always presented itself inside and out of me, the one that stood tall and never felt down or said sorry was gone. As I washed my face I felt like I was trying to scrub dirt off me that wasn't there.
"This must be what guilt feels like." I muttered to myself as I fixed the war zone on the top of my head. "I don't like it."
Sighing I made my way out of my room and started dawdling down the hallway using the walls for support. My feet stopped beside Canada's room door and my hand shakily reached for the knob. Dropping my hand I shook my head knowing I couldn't handle seeing him again so soon. Instead I turned and continued towards the dining room perking up slightly as the heavenly scent of food made its way into my nose. My stomach growled as I happily greeted the sight of breakfast, and almost jealously greeted my peers sitting around the table eating.
"Morning America," China and France said in unison.
"Good morn'," Britain murmured between sips of tea.
Russia simply smiled at me as a greeting before continuing to devour his food. I nodded and settled down in my seat picking up my utensils. I leaned in stabbing a piece of bacon and started to place it in my mouth as the scent tickled my nose making me drool. Suddenly my eyes rested on the pancakes topped with maple syrup and a picture of Canada appeared in my head. Dropping my utensils in shock everyone glanced up to look at me. I could feel myself on the verge of tears and I couldn't cry in front of my team mates. No I was a hero and always stood tall. But my focus started blurring and I knew I had to get out of there.
"America?" Britain asked with a puzzled look on his face.
"I-I'm not hungry." I said awkwardly standing and limping out of the room leaving everyone but Russia with a dumbfounded look.
My feet took me directly to Canada's room as if I wasn't in control. Taking a deep breath I finally opened the door and put my head in. He was sleeping peacefully under the covers exactly how I had left him; the only evidence of what had happened was the bandage over his eye and his ragged breathing. My gaze started blurring with tears as I limped over to the side of Canada's bed. Taking his hand in my own I sat in the chair I had last night, using my other arm to wipe the tears that fell. My thumb slowly rubbed the back of his hand as I silently listened to his shallow breathing and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. Sniffling back the next wave of tears my other hand carefully brushed the hair out of his eyes and I gently touched his forehead. It felt hot and clammy as I wiped the sweat off his brow. Leaning forward I slowly placed my arms on the side of Canada's bed, his hand still entwined with my own, and rested my head on my arms. Breathing slowly and feeling slightly comforted being by his side I started drifting off. My bloodshot eyes closed and I escaped into my dreams once more.