Family Ties [Part 98]
Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Wales, England, Scotland, Ireland, Diaspora, Dora, America
Rating: 15
Warnings: SUDDENLY gooey mushy fluff.
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
England was reaching towards him like he didn't believe he was here. To be fair, Wales could hardly believe it either. Where he'd just been seemed to be fading like an odd dream, memorable but disconnected from reality. He flexed his fingers and shook out his hand, feeling the sting from hitting America. He'd only managed to knock him over because he was already (mentally) unbalanced, and Wales had come in at a run anyway. Comparatively, he was weak as a kitten. He'd also come back quite short, shorter than England now, to his annoyance, but he wasn't going to complain. It was much better than being the size of a ten year old. Now he was late teens.
"Well fuck me." uttered Scotland, dropping his crutch and leaning against the door frame instead. Wales grinned at him, as well as at France, who was gaping openly at him. "Radiation's sent me barmy."
"Very nice of the radiation to knock out the raving lunatic superpower, huh?" Wales commented dryly. "You're welcome, by the way."
"A miracle..." Diaspora marveled, a bewildered smile on her face. "It must be..."
Wales shrugged one shoulder. "You could call it that, I guess." His gaze traveled over to Ireland, who was looking so confused she might start to cry. "Don't look at me like that Aine, you'll make me feel bad for coming back at all."
Something lightly brushed his arm, and he glanced over to see England flinch away, not daring to believe he was solid. He pointedly poked his younger (older? Heaven forbid.) brother on the arm, chuckling at how wide eyed he went. "I am solid, you know- oof!" He nearly had all the air knocked out of his lungs as England practically tackled him with a hug. "Ack, okay, get off- gah!" Yet another set of arms wrapped around him, this time pulling him into a headlock. Scotland cackled and noogied him mercilessly.
"Ye stubborn son of a bitch! We just cannae get rid of ye!" He sounded a little choked up, even if he was the one putting his siblings in choke holds.
Eventually, they both got off him, though England hovered close, not taking his eyes off him lest he vanish again. He glanced down at where America was still staring at them, uncomprehending. Wales raised his eyebrows at him. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"You-..." America started, mouth moving but nothing coming out half the time. "You- but, then that means he-... but that's not-... that means he really was..."
"If you mean Canada, yeah, that was him, not a ghost or anything." Wales nodded. Behind him, France slumped against the door frame, one hand to his head and laughing in wonder. "Hey, it's nearly Christmas, right? If we're playing ghosts, do I get to be the Ghost of Christmas Present? Belarus would make a great Christmas Future, don't you think?"
"I can't believe you're joking at a time like this..." uttered England, shaking his head. With the rain still coming down, it was hard to tell if he was crying or not. Speaking of radiation...
"You guys look like shit." he commented, taking in Scotland's missing leg, England's scarred appearance and Ireland's... everything.
"Gee, thanks." Scotland said, rolling his eyes and punching Wales' shoulder, ignoring the pained protest. "You seem tae have got off pretty lightly, short arse."
"Hey, screw you, I died, do you know how much the afterlife sucks?" Which he mentally translated to 'do you know how much staying with Prussia sucks'. "Mum says hi, by the way."
England continued to shake his head at him, when he felt another tug on his clothes. Wales looked down at Ireland in her wheelchair, frowning determinedly up at him. For a moment, Wales feared for his life. That look was never a good thing. That look was reserved for people who stood in the way of something that Ireland wanted.
"Where's North." she said slowly.
Darrne swallowed nervously. "I, er, haven't seen him myself-" he was pulled down by his shirt until he was nose to nose with Aine's furious expression. "- but I'm assured he'll be along in his own time!" he finished quickly before he could be sent back from whence he came just to retrieve the last of their dysfunctional little family. Ireland studied him, before eventually deeming him to be truthful and letting him go.
Someone cleared their throat, and Wales was extremely surprised to find Dora, the lady from Birmingham, standing in the doorway with her hand up. Actually, this was the first time he'd registered where he was; wasn't this their old house where they'd lived during the empire years? "I'd just like to say, 'called it', ta."
"I'm... I don't understand." America said slowly, getting to his feet. If he did anything stupid, Wales was somewhat certain he wouldn't be able to punch him again. "You died. But you're alive. Which means Mattie's alive." He suddenly turned pale. "I left Mattie all alone with Russia!!" he cried, seeming horrified. "I have to go!" He turned on his heel and practically started running towards the Harrier.
"America!" England called after him, knowing full well he couldn't chase him. Someone walked past him, grabbed America by the collar, and dragged him back, practically choking the boy. Diaspora stared disapprovingly at him, looking every bit like a scolding parent.
"Don't think you can just keep running off everywhere!" she told him in no uncertain terms. "You're staying right here until you calm down enough to think calmly about what you've done, and what you're going to do! You're going to help Dora with her patients, you're going to help me with Ireland, and you're not going to do anything stupid. Do I make myself clear?"
America nodded mutely.
Diaspora released him, smiling. "Good boy."
Part 99
Notes:
- So real life and exams are kicking my butt, and I wrote this at about 4am because fuck sleep, I'm pulling an all nighter before work. If this is incoherent I'll get to it at a later date. For now, here you go.
Characters (in this chapter): Wales, England, Scotland, Ireland, Diaspora, Dora, America
Rating: 15
Warnings: SUDDENLY gooey mushy fluff.
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
England was reaching towards him like he didn't believe he was here. To be fair, Wales could hardly believe it either. Where he'd just been seemed to be fading like an odd dream, memorable but disconnected from reality. He flexed his fingers and shook out his hand, feeling the sting from hitting America. He'd only managed to knock him over because he was already (mentally) unbalanced, and Wales had come in at a run anyway. Comparatively, he was weak as a kitten. He'd also come back quite short, shorter than England now, to his annoyance, but he wasn't going to complain. It was much better than being the size of a ten year old. Now he was late teens.
"Well fuck me." uttered Scotland, dropping his crutch and leaning against the door frame instead. Wales grinned at him, as well as at France, who was gaping openly at him. "Radiation's sent me barmy."
"Very nice of the radiation to knock out the raving lunatic superpower, huh?" Wales commented dryly. "You're welcome, by the way."
"A miracle..." Diaspora marveled, a bewildered smile on her face. "It must be..."
Wales shrugged one shoulder. "You could call it that, I guess." His gaze traveled over to Ireland, who was looking so confused she might start to cry. "Don't look at me like that Aine, you'll make me feel bad for coming back at all."
Something lightly brushed his arm, and he glanced over to see England flinch away, not daring to believe he was solid. He pointedly poked his younger (older? Heaven forbid.) brother on the arm, chuckling at how wide eyed he went. "I am solid, you know- oof!" He nearly had all the air knocked out of his lungs as England practically tackled him with a hug. "Ack, okay, get off- gah!" Yet another set of arms wrapped around him, this time pulling him into a headlock. Scotland cackled and noogied him mercilessly.
"Ye stubborn son of a bitch! We just cannae get rid of ye!" He sounded a little choked up, even if he was the one putting his siblings in choke holds.
Eventually, they both got off him, though England hovered close, not taking his eyes off him lest he vanish again. He glanced down at where America was still staring at them, uncomprehending. Wales raised his eyebrows at him. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"You-..." America started, mouth moving but nothing coming out half the time. "You- but, then that means he-... but that's not-... that means he really was..."
"If you mean Canada, yeah, that was him, not a ghost or anything." Wales nodded. Behind him, France slumped against the door frame, one hand to his head and laughing in wonder. "Hey, it's nearly Christmas, right? If we're playing ghosts, do I get to be the Ghost of Christmas Present? Belarus would make a great Christmas Future, don't you think?"
"I can't believe you're joking at a time like this..." uttered England, shaking his head. With the rain still coming down, it was hard to tell if he was crying or not. Speaking of radiation...
"You guys look like shit." he commented, taking in Scotland's missing leg, England's scarred appearance and Ireland's... everything.
"Gee, thanks." Scotland said, rolling his eyes and punching Wales' shoulder, ignoring the pained protest. "You seem tae have got off pretty lightly, short arse."
"Hey, screw you, I died, do you know how much the afterlife sucks?" Which he mentally translated to 'do you know how much staying with Prussia sucks'. "Mum says hi, by the way."
England continued to shake his head at him, when he felt another tug on his clothes. Wales looked down at Ireland in her wheelchair, frowning determinedly up at him. For a moment, Wales feared for his life. That look was never a good thing. That look was reserved for people who stood in the way of something that Ireland wanted.
"Where's North." she said slowly.
Darrne swallowed nervously. "I, er, haven't seen him myself-" he was pulled down by his shirt until he was nose to nose with Aine's furious expression. "- but I'm assured he'll be along in his own time!" he finished quickly before he could be sent back from whence he came just to retrieve the last of their dysfunctional little family. Ireland studied him, before eventually deeming him to be truthful and letting him go.
Someone cleared their throat, and Wales was extremely surprised to find Dora, the lady from Birmingham, standing in the doorway with her hand up. Actually, this was the first time he'd registered where he was; wasn't this their old house where they'd lived during the empire years? "I'd just like to say, 'called it', ta."
"I'm... I don't understand." America said slowly, getting to his feet. If he did anything stupid, Wales was somewhat certain he wouldn't be able to punch him again. "You died. But you're alive. Which means Mattie's alive." He suddenly turned pale. "I left Mattie all alone with Russia!!" he cried, seeming horrified. "I have to go!" He turned on his heel and practically started running towards the Harrier.
"America!" England called after him, knowing full well he couldn't chase him. Someone walked past him, grabbed America by the collar, and dragged him back, practically choking the boy. Diaspora stared disapprovingly at him, looking every bit like a scolding parent.
"Don't think you can just keep running off everywhere!" she told him in no uncertain terms. "You're staying right here until you calm down enough to think calmly about what you've done, and what you're going to do! You're going to help Dora with her patients, you're going to help me with Ireland, and you're not going to do anything stupid. Do I make myself clear?"
America nodded mutely.
Diaspora released him, smiling. "Good boy."
Part 99
Notes:
- So real life and exams are kicking my butt, and I wrote this at about 4am because fuck sleep, I'm pulling an all nighter before work. If this is incoherent I'll get to it at a later date. For now, here you go.