England had been staying up late as usual, he had become far too engrossed in re-reading one of his old classics and had lost track of time. America had turned in hours ago and so it was just him left in the sitting room. He yawned, switched off the light, checked the doors were locked before climbing the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he hopped over the last step to avoid it creaking and waking America.
However, judging by the talking coming from America's partially opened door, it seemed that England was not the only one awake. England moved closer to try and hear what America was saying - it would be nice to get some revenge after America kept teasing him about talking to his 'imaginary' friends.
"It's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a dream," America muttered and England gave the door a narrowed-eye look. America sounded fairly panicked, completely unlike himself. "It's not going to hurt you, it's just a dream. Just a dream... like with Freddy Kruger. Oh God." Now America's voice was rising as if he was going to burst into hysterical sobs any minute now. Unable to listen to America's fear any longer without doing anything to help, England knocked sharply on the door. The muttering stopped abruptly and there was the sound of footsteps before the door swung open.
"Hi England," America said cheerfully, even though England could see the effort it took him to lift the corners of his mouth in a smile. His normally styled hair was a mess, as if he had run his fingers through it several times, and slightly damp. From sweat no doubt.
"Bad dream?" England asked, getting straight to the point. Thirteen minutes past one in the morning was no time for a pleasant chit chat. America's smile wavered and then disappeared completely, leaving him looking more frightened than England thought America should ever be.
"How did you know?" America asked in confusion and disbelief. Instead of admitting to the fact that he had been eavesdropping outside his door, England decided to leave the question unanswered. America would just think it was England's sixth sense again, a more preferable explanation than the truth.
"Do you - want to talk about it?" England offered awkwardly and America smiled, a genuine, soft smile as if he knew how much that cost England to ask.
"No thanks," America said. "I just want to forget about it." England nodded, understanding the feeling completely. He turned from America's door, ready to go back downstairs again.
Nightmare (2/2)
anonymous
October 14 2011, 10:44:19 UTC
"Wait! Where are you going?" America's voice was frantic and slightly pleading, even though the latter was something America would deny to his dying day. England looked over his shoulder at America, who looked slightly forlorn and abandoned. Ignoring the tug on his heartstrings, England raised an eyebrow.
"I was going for some hot chocolate and I assumed that you wanted some as well. You once told me that it's no good being up in the middle of the night unless you were going to get some hot chocolate," England said, in a slightly patronising tone that he couldn't turn off. America didn't seem to mind too much, for he gave England a grin while he was slipping a dressing gown on over the top of his pyjamas.
"Because, of course, I am a mind reader who should know everything that there is to know that goes on in your head," America said righteously as they climbed down the stairs again, more carefully this time because the hallway was blanketed by darkness. England counted his lucky stars that America couldn't see what was in his head, he would never stay at England's again. England could see the horrified expression now, with contempt and disgust mixed in.
England was drawn from his negative thoughts by America's voice. "England? Are you going to answer my question?" Wanting to save face, England said,
"Yes I will and the answer is yes." England waited, praying that it was nothing too horrible now that he had signed up for it. America gave him a weird look.
"I asked you what type of hot chocolate you had. I didn't know there was a brand called 'Yes'." America grinned at an embarrassed England. "You weren't even listening, just admit it." England didn't admit it, but he didn't deny it either and America took that as a victory.
"I have some Galaxy hot chocolate and some other stuff that you may like," England answered in a serious voice, ignoring America's teasing smile. He would be a gentleman and not dwell on his mistakes and if America was any kind of gentleman, he would do the same.
"Sounds good," America said, proving that not all of England's teachings had gone to waste. In the kitchen, America put the kettle onto boil while England searched his cupboards.
"I'm definitely sure that I had some. Now I just need to find it," England muttered, more to himself than to America, and America shook his head at England's crazy habits.
England soon found some hot chocolate and they were both able to settle down on the sofa in the sitting room with a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
"I think I just burnt the top of my tongue," America said in a casual tone. England took a sip of his hot chocolate and had to agree. With no milk available to cool it down, like with tea, the hot chocolate with recently boiled water, removed a layer of skin from their tongues and burned their throats all the way down.
"Let's leave them for a bit," England suggested hastily and America happily complied by putting his cup down on the table. They sat back against the sofa again. "So are you sure you don't want to tell me what the nightmare was about?" Apart from wanting to help America, a small part of England was wondering what the nightmare was that had affected America so badly.
America sobered at England's words and England regretted bringing it up again. However, without saying a word, America moved so he was leaning against England's shoulder and rested his face against England's chest.
"America?" England said in surprise.
"I can't... I don't want to see it again. Just let me do this," America said, his voice muffled by Arthur's shirt. Not wanting to break the moment, Arthur nodded again and looped an arm around America's back. Maybe some things were better unsaid.
Re: Nightmare (2/2)
anonymous
November 11 2011, 10:18:33 UTC
That was wonderful, anon. Lovely slice of life for these two. And this anon has often done late night cocoa snuggling with parents, so this is very sweet!
Canon-verse or AU. England overhears America having a nightmare and tries to comfort him.
England had been staying up late as usual, he had become far too engrossed in re-reading one of his old classics and had lost track of time. America had turned in hours ago and so it was just him left in the sitting room. He yawned, switched off the light, checked the doors were locked before climbing the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he hopped over the last step to avoid it creaking and waking America.
However, judging by the talking coming from America's partially opened door, it seemed that England was not the only one awake. England moved closer to try and hear what America was saying - it would be nice to get some revenge after America kept teasing him about talking to his 'imaginary' friends.
"It's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a dream," America muttered and England gave the door a narrowed-eye look. America sounded fairly panicked, completely unlike himself. "It's not going to hurt you, it's just a dream. Just a dream... like with Freddy Kruger. Oh God." Now America's voice was rising as if he was going to burst into hysterical sobs any minute now. Unable to listen to America's fear any longer without doing anything to help, England knocked sharply on the door. The muttering stopped abruptly and there was the sound of footsteps before the door swung open.
"Hi England," America said cheerfully, even though England could see the effort it took him to lift the corners of his mouth in a smile. His normally styled hair was a mess, as if he had run his fingers through it several times, and slightly damp. From sweat no doubt.
"Bad dream?" England asked, getting straight to the point. Thirteen minutes past one in the morning was no time for a pleasant chit chat. America's smile wavered and then disappeared completely, leaving him looking more frightened than England thought America should ever be.
"How did you know?" America asked in confusion and disbelief. Instead of admitting to the fact that he had been eavesdropping outside his door, England decided to leave the question unanswered. America would just think it was England's sixth sense again, a more preferable explanation than the truth.
"Do you - want to talk about it?" England offered awkwardly and America smiled, a genuine, soft smile as if he knew how much that cost England to ask.
"No thanks," America said. "I just want to forget about it." England nodded, understanding the feeling completely. He turned from America's door, ready to go back downstairs again.
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"I was going for some hot chocolate and I assumed that you wanted some as well. You once told me that it's no good being up in the middle of the night unless you were going to get some hot chocolate," England said, in a slightly patronising tone that he couldn't turn off. America didn't seem to mind too much, for he gave England a grin while he was slipping a dressing gown on over the top of his pyjamas.
"Because, of course, I am a mind reader who should know everything that there is to know that goes on in your head," America said righteously as they climbed down the stairs again, more carefully this time because the hallway was blanketed by darkness. England counted his lucky stars that America couldn't see what was in his head, he would never stay at England's again. England could see the horrified expression now, with contempt and disgust mixed in.
England was drawn from his negative thoughts by America's voice. "England? Are you going to answer my question?" Wanting to save face, England said,
"Yes I will and the answer is yes." England waited, praying that it was nothing too horrible now that he had signed up for it. America gave him a weird look.
"I asked you what type of hot chocolate you had. I didn't know there was a brand called 'Yes'." America grinned at an embarrassed England. "You weren't even listening, just admit it." England didn't admit it, but he didn't deny it either and America took that as a victory.
"I have some Galaxy hot chocolate and some other stuff that you may like," England answered in a serious voice, ignoring America's teasing smile. He would be a gentleman and not dwell on his mistakes and if America was any kind of gentleman, he would do the same.
"Sounds good," America said, proving that not all of England's teachings had gone to waste. In the kitchen, America put the kettle onto boil while England searched his cupboards.
"I'm definitely sure that I had some. Now I just need to find it," England muttered, more to himself than to America, and America shook his head at England's crazy habits.
England soon found some hot chocolate and they were both able to settle down on the sofa in the sitting room with a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
"I think I just burnt the top of my tongue," America said in a casual tone. England took a sip of his hot chocolate and had to agree. With no milk available to cool it down, like with tea, the hot chocolate with recently boiled water, removed a layer of skin from their tongues and burned their throats all the way down.
"Let's leave them for a bit," England suggested hastily and America happily complied by putting his cup down on the table. They sat back against the sofa again. "So are you sure you don't want to tell me what the nightmare was about?" Apart from wanting to help America, a small part of England was wondering what the nightmare was that had affected America so badly.
America sobered at England's words and England regretted bringing it up again. However, without saying a word, America moved so he was leaning against England's shoulder and rested his face against England's chest.
"America?" England said in surprise.
"I can't... I don't want to see it again. Just let me do this," America said, his voice muffled by Arthur's shirt. Not wanting to break the moment, Arthur nodded again and looped an arm around America's back. Maybe some things were better unsaid.
Nobody saw that deanon! Hope everyone enjoyed.
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