Re: United We Stand [8/?]
anonymous
May 15 2009, 03:16:41 UTC
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By Christmas, news of South Carolina’s secession from the Union reached Washington. This meant that instead of a relaxing evening after mass and celebration, three of America’s older children instead had to restrain America from thrashing while Pennsylvania tried to find the source of the bleeding.
Their father had only gone away for a few minutes upon hearing the news, saying that he was going to find the things South Carolina had left in the house so he could ship them back to her. He had been quiet, calm, almost smiling when he’d done it.
It seemed to the states holding him down, though, that South Carolina’s things included parts of America’s liver and gall bladder, along with copious amounts of his blood.
Even with the wound, their father was still strong as an ox and fought every inch of the way to the kitchen’s table. Four of them were enough to do it, though, New Jersey and Maryland, one on each arm, Ohio at his torso, and Vermont pinning his calves to the table.
“It’s all right,” muttered Pennsylvania, though now that he’d torn off enough of America’s shirt to see the wound, he wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t just new blood now, it was old stitches, too, with angry read infection and graying dead skin. It took Pennsylvania a moment to remember what the old stitches were from.
“It’s okay, it is, just stay still and we can handle this,” said Pennsylvania, wadding up some shirt and pressing down. America writhed under their hands and cried something incoherent. If Pennsylvania knew anything he knew the shock and pain would set in soon. Though he remembered little of Europe, and nothing of Nations’ constant struggles and deaths, he knew that this was not good.
“Let her go she can go if she wants to she just left so many things and I’ll have to give it back I can’t keep it it’s hers get your damn hands off of me New Jersey dammit you bastard dammit -”
All through the rant America’s voice grew quieter, his thrashing less violent.
“Ohio,” said Pennsylvania, “I want you to grab Maryland’s sewing kit and - do you know if there’s any laudanum around?”
“Why would he have laudanum?” grunted Maryland, resorting to using her knee to help hold her father’s elbow down.
“I think I saw some in his bedroom,” offered Vermont, and Ohio hurried off.
By Christmas, news of South Carolina’s secession from the Union reached Washington. This meant that instead of a relaxing evening after mass and celebration, three of America’s older children instead had to restrain America from thrashing while Pennsylvania tried to find the source of the bleeding.
Their father had only gone away for a few minutes upon hearing the news, saying that he was going to find the things South Carolina had left in the house so he could ship them back to her. He had been quiet, calm, almost smiling when he’d done it.
It seemed to the states holding him down, though, that South Carolina’s things included parts of America’s liver and gall bladder, along with copious amounts of his blood.
Even with the wound, their father was still strong as an ox and fought every inch of the way to the kitchen’s table. Four of them were enough to do it, though, New Jersey and Maryland, one on each arm, Ohio at his torso, and Vermont pinning his calves to the table.
“It’s all right,” muttered Pennsylvania, though now that he’d torn off enough of America’s shirt to see the wound, he wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t just new blood now, it was old stitches, too, with angry read infection and graying dead skin. It took Pennsylvania a moment to remember what the old stitches were from.
“It’s okay, it is, just stay still and we can handle this,” said Pennsylvania, wadding up some shirt and pressing down. America writhed under their hands and cried something incoherent. If Pennsylvania knew anything he knew the shock and pain would set in soon. Though he remembered little of Europe, and nothing of Nations’ constant struggles and deaths, he knew that this was not good.
“Let her go she can go if she wants to she just left so many things and I’ll have to give it back I can’t keep it it’s hers get your damn hands off of me New Jersey dammit you bastard dammit -”
All through the rant America’s voice grew quieter, his thrashing less violent.
“Ohio,” said Pennsylvania, “I want you to grab Maryland’s sewing kit and - do you know if there’s any laudanum around?”
“Why would he have laudanum?” grunted Maryland, resorting to using her knee to help hold her father’s elbow down.
“I think I saw some in his bedroom,” offered Vermont, and Ohio hurried off.
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