These are the times that try men's souls, [4/?]
Title: These are the times that try men's souls, part 4
Author/Artist: lokichan2004
Character(s) or Pairing(s): England, Canada
Rating: Er. PG for mentions of an invasion of the US and mass death.
Warnings: See above. Oh, and England cries.
Summary: Pretty much, the United States goes to hell in a handbasket.
Part one: http://community.livejournal.com/hetalia/4170145.html
Part two: http://community.livejournal.com/hetalia/4183033.html
Part three: http://community.livejournal.com/hetalia/4205522.html
Tentative plans were drawn up by Arthur, Matthew and Francis: with America on the verge on total collapse, they offered any state that wanted a deal - join forces with us, and we’ll help you with the rebels and fend off Mexico, or watch as your country is invaded and destroyed from the inside out. This sparked an outcry from the states, of course, who accused not only Arthur and Francis of returning to their empirical ways, but Matthew as well.
Of the original thirteen colonies Pennsylvania’s voice of protest was loudest; New York and Massachusetts wanted to unite with England, while the other ten were unsure. Americans closest to Canada were already pouring over the northern border to escape the violence, so he had no problem taking in willing states, and those he fathered with Alfred, under his wing. Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, the Dakotas, Michigan and Minnesota were soon flying under Canadian colors. Francis simply took back the land he sold Alfred in the Louisiana Purchase, his argument being that since the United States was no longer recognized as a sovereign nation, the contract was null and void.
The biggest surprise was when Texas, and then Hawaii, declared themselves independent countries. Alaska held his own, being protected by his vast size and harsh winters, but even he was beginning to feel pressure to “become one with Russia”. With the rest of the country flying under different flags, or breaking off to become their own nations, New England and the original colonies soon acquiesced to Arthur’s pleas to join him for protection.
And then Mexico struck.
The Mexican army met little resistance in southern Arizona and New Mexico; they simply marched over the border and through the desert and took whatever they wanted. Los Angeles, weakened by the bomb blast and subsequent civil unrest there, put up a fierce resistance but fell within the month. The American southwest was the last stronghold of resistance - thousands died on both sides before Mexico declared victory. The United States of America was no more - only the British-held New America on the eastern seaboard remained.
--------------------------
Two years passed. Progress in getting New America pieced together again was slow at best - New York City and Boston were only just now starting to get back on their feet, although the rebels were still active, their numbers only being slightly reduced. It was hard to tell who was a rebel and who wasn’t; it was a constant headache for Arthur, who was sitting in office in Philadelphia one day when Matthew stopped by. Arthur spent most of his time in New America, although he did make frequent trips back to Britain. The American airports were back in service - that had been a major turning point. No longer did one have to fly into Canada and then drive south anymore.
He was sitting in his office in Philadelphia; he could look out the window and see Independence Hall, where the Declaration of Independence had been drafted and signed all those years ago. The irony of it all nearly floored him. Having fought so hard and risked so much for independence from the British crown, the Founding Fathers must have been turning in their graves at the idea of their country once again under British rule. But it wasn’t really British, Arthur mused as he looked over a stack of old paperwork, just…in foster care, so to speak. He had no intention of keeping the states under British possession; he kept having to remind himself that this wasn’t the 18th century anymore. A soft knock on the door made him look up. Matthew was standing in the open doorway holding a tray with two steaming cups of tea and a plate of biscuits.
“You look like you need a break,” he said as he stepped inside. Arthur sighed and cleared a spot on the desk in front of him.
“You have no idea,” he replied wearily, taking a cup from the tray and nodding his thanks. Matthew sat opposite him and took his own cup, cradling it in his hands and watching the steam curl into the air. Arthur took a sip; a rare smile flickered on his face as he leaned back in his chair. “That hits the spot. Thank you, Matthew.” Matthew smiled in return and took a sip as well.
“When are you going to London?” he asked.
“In two days. I have to present my boss with a report on the status of the insurgency in Boston and New York.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and glared down at the papers in front of him. “And I still haven’t received all the details from the states themselves.”
“I spoke with George two days ago. He said that he’s working on the revisions to his report and that as soon as he’s done he’ll send it to you.”
“I wish he’d told me that,” Arthur sulked into his tea. “No one tells me anything anymore.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Matthew laughed softly. “Everyone’s busy these days. We all have our hands full.”
“Francis is going to have a rebellion on his hands if he keeps ignoring the escalation of arms on the western border with Texas.” Matthew nodded and looked at the map on the wall. The country on the map still held the shape of the former United States, but that was where the similarities ended. Taking up the southwest, California, Nevada, Utah and Colorado was Mexico. Above that - Oregon, Washington, and the northern states bordering Canada were the Canadian Territories of America. Texas was its own nation, sandwiched between Mexico and the Louisiana Territory held by France. That was where hostilities were greatest, as Mexico sought to overrun Texas’ defenses and invade Francis’ land. On the eastern seaboard was New America, held by Britain. Hawaii was nowhere to be found. Alaska, while not independent, still had not declared itself part of either Canada or Britain’s territory.
He looked back at Arthur. The Englishman was staring mutely into his tea, his eyes glazed and far away. Matthew knew that it pained him to be sitting here on American soil, in charge of a broken and divided nation. Not once since Alfred’s death had he seen him cry, or get emotional at all. That wasn’t Arthur’s style, of course, but the lack of emotion worried him. There weren’t even pictures of Alfred in Arthur’s office.
“I think Anatoli might join me,” Matthew said suddenly, to break the heavy silence. “He said that Ivan won’t leave him alone.” Arthur’s head snapped up. Matthew thought he saw a sheen of tears in his eyes as he looked at him from across the desk.
“Hmm? Oh, good,” he replied absently, brushing a hand over his eyes. “The more states we have on our side the better.”
“Arthur.” Matthew set his tea cup on the desk and caught his eyes, somber blue on misty green. “It’s alright, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” Arthur huffed, setting his tea down and picking up a paper from the stack in front of him. Matthew scooted the chair around the desk until he was sitting next to his friend.
“I’m worried about you, Arthur. I know you’re hurting, but it’s alright to feel.”
“I’m fine,” Arthur snapped, grabbing another paper and trying to hide the shaking in his hands. “I need to finish these reports, Matthew, so if you don’t mind-“
“You aren’t fine,” Matthew interrupted, and Arthur looked up, surprised at the steely determination he saw in those blue eyes. He looked so much like Alfred when he did that. “You won’t even acknowledge that he’s gone! He was my brother, too, Arthur. I miss him every day. But you can’t go on like this as if it never happened.”
“Now is not the time for emotional theatrics, Matthew,” Arthur responded coolly, shifting his gaze back to the papers in his hands. “Right now I need to focus on keeping the country from falling apart.”
“Maybe it should be!” Matthew replied hotly, leaning forward. Arthur glared at him and backed away. “You act like you never even cared about him!” That did it. Arthur whirled to face Matthew; his eyes alight with a fury the Canadian hadn’t seen in years.
“How dare you,” he hissed, blinking away the angry tears pricking his eyes. “Just because I’m not sobbing and carrying on like a lovesick teenager does not mean I didn’t care for Alfred! I loved him, and I never got the chance to say it!” He huffed angrily and turned away, tears tracking down his face. Matthew sat in stunned silence and watched as Arthur’s shoulders started shaking, the quiet of the room overtaken by muffled sobs. Quickly he stood and folded Arthur in his arms, pressing him back into his chest. He could feel Arthur’s breath hitching and knew that he was trying desperately to save face, to stop the traitorous display of weakness.
“Let it out, Arthur,” he murmured softly, his own eyes clouding over. “It’s alright. Let it out.” This only made the Englishman sob harder, a high keening sound erupting out of his throat. Matthew took it in stride and squeezed tighter as Arthur crumpled in his arms.
“I never even got to tell him,” he choked out between sobs, his voice thick and raw. “I didn’t even get to tell him goodbye.” Matthew’s tears fell at this, and he rested his head on top of Arthur’s, rocking gently back and forth.
“I know, Arthur. I know.”
(I think there's only about two or three chapters, maybe four, to post before I catch up with my writing, and then there'll be horrible lag as I write the new stuff. I'm a really slow/lazy writer. >_>)
Author/Artist: lokichan2004
Character(s) or Pairing(s): England, Canada
Rating: Er. PG for mentions of an invasion of the US and mass death.
Warnings: See above. Oh, and England cries.
Summary: Pretty much, the United States goes to hell in a handbasket.
Part one: http://community.livejournal.com/hetalia/4170145.html
Part two: http://community.livejournal.com/hetalia/4183033.html
Part three: http://community.livejournal.com/hetalia/4205522.html
Tentative plans were drawn up by Arthur, Matthew and Francis: with America on the verge on total collapse, they offered any state that wanted a deal - join forces with us, and we’ll help you with the rebels and fend off Mexico, or watch as your country is invaded and destroyed from the inside out. This sparked an outcry from the states, of course, who accused not only Arthur and Francis of returning to their empirical ways, but Matthew as well.
Of the original thirteen colonies Pennsylvania’s voice of protest was loudest; New York and Massachusetts wanted to unite with England, while the other ten were unsure. Americans closest to Canada were already pouring over the northern border to escape the violence, so he had no problem taking in willing states, and those he fathered with Alfred, under his wing. Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, the Dakotas, Michigan and Minnesota were soon flying under Canadian colors. Francis simply took back the land he sold Alfred in the Louisiana Purchase, his argument being that since the United States was no longer recognized as a sovereign nation, the contract was null and void.
The biggest surprise was when Texas, and then Hawaii, declared themselves independent countries. Alaska held his own, being protected by his vast size and harsh winters, but even he was beginning to feel pressure to “become one with Russia”. With the rest of the country flying under different flags, or breaking off to become their own nations, New England and the original colonies soon acquiesced to Arthur’s pleas to join him for protection.
And then Mexico struck.
The Mexican army met little resistance in southern Arizona and New Mexico; they simply marched over the border and through the desert and took whatever they wanted. Los Angeles, weakened by the bomb blast and subsequent civil unrest there, put up a fierce resistance but fell within the month. The American southwest was the last stronghold of resistance - thousands died on both sides before Mexico declared victory. The United States of America was no more - only the British-held New America on the eastern seaboard remained.
--------------------------
Two years passed. Progress in getting New America pieced together again was slow at best - New York City and Boston were only just now starting to get back on their feet, although the rebels were still active, their numbers only being slightly reduced. It was hard to tell who was a rebel and who wasn’t; it was a constant headache for Arthur, who was sitting in office in Philadelphia one day when Matthew stopped by. Arthur spent most of his time in New America, although he did make frequent trips back to Britain. The American airports were back in service - that had been a major turning point. No longer did one have to fly into Canada and then drive south anymore.
He was sitting in his office in Philadelphia; he could look out the window and see Independence Hall, where the Declaration of Independence had been drafted and signed all those years ago. The irony of it all nearly floored him. Having fought so hard and risked so much for independence from the British crown, the Founding Fathers must have been turning in their graves at the idea of their country once again under British rule. But it wasn’t really British, Arthur mused as he looked over a stack of old paperwork, just…in foster care, so to speak. He had no intention of keeping the states under British possession; he kept having to remind himself that this wasn’t the 18th century anymore. A soft knock on the door made him look up. Matthew was standing in the open doorway holding a tray with two steaming cups of tea and a plate of biscuits.
“You look like you need a break,” he said as he stepped inside. Arthur sighed and cleared a spot on the desk in front of him.
“You have no idea,” he replied wearily, taking a cup from the tray and nodding his thanks. Matthew sat opposite him and took his own cup, cradling it in his hands and watching the steam curl into the air. Arthur took a sip; a rare smile flickered on his face as he leaned back in his chair. “That hits the spot. Thank you, Matthew.” Matthew smiled in return and took a sip as well.
“When are you going to London?” he asked.
“In two days. I have to present my boss with a report on the status of the insurgency in Boston and New York.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and glared down at the papers in front of him. “And I still haven’t received all the details from the states themselves.”
“I spoke with George two days ago. He said that he’s working on the revisions to his report and that as soon as he’s done he’ll send it to you.”
“I wish he’d told me that,” Arthur sulked into his tea. “No one tells me anything anymore.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Matthew laughed softly. “Everyone’s busy these days. We all have our hands full.”
“Francis is going to have a rebellion on his hands if he keeps ignoring the escalation of arms on the western border with Texas.” Matthew nodded and looked at the map on the wall. The country on the map still held the shape of the former United States, but that was where the similarities ended. Taking up the southwest, California, Nevada, Utah and Colorado was Mexico. Above that - Oregon, Washington, and the northern states bordering Canada were the Canadian Territories of America. Texas was its own nation, sandwiched between Mexico and the Louisiana Territory held by France. That was where hostilities were greatest, as Mexico sought to overrun Texas’ defenses and invade Francis’ land. On the eastern seaboard was New America, held by Britain. Hawaii was nowhere to be found. Alaska, while not independent, still had not declared itself part of either Canada or Britain’s territory.
He looked back at Arthur. The Englishman was staring mutely into his tea, his eyes glazed and far away. Matthew knew that it pained him to be sitting here on American soil, in charge of a broken and divided nation. Not once since Alfred’s death had he seen him cry, or get emotional at all. That wasn’t Arthur’s style, of course, but the lack of emotion worried him. There weren’t even pictures of Alfred in Arthur’s office.
“I think Anatoli might join me,” Matthew said suddenly, to break the heavy silence. “He said that Ivan won’t leave him alone.” Arthur’s head snapped up. Matthew thought he saw a sheen of tears in his eyes as he looked at him from across the desk.
“Hmm? Oh, good,” he replied absently, brushing a hand over his eyes. “The more states we have on our side the better.”
“Arthur.” Matthew set his tea cup on the desk and caught his eyes, somber blue on misty green. “It’s alright, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” Arthur huffed, setting his tea down and picking up a paper from the stack in front of him. Matthew scooted the chair around the desk until he was sitting next to his friend.
“I’m worried about you, Arthur. I know you’re hurting, but it’s alright to feel.”
“I’m fine,” Arthur snapped, grabbing another paper and trying to hide the shaking in his hands. “I need to finish these reports, Matthew, so if you don’t mind-“
“You aren’t fine,” Matthew interrupted, and Arthur looked up, surprised at the steely determination he saw in those blue eyes. He looked so much like Alfred when he did that. “You won’t even acknowledge that he’s gone! He was my brother, too, Arthur. I miss him every day. But you can’t go on like this as if it never happened.”
“Now is not the time for emotional theatrics, Matthew,” Arthur responded coolly, shifting his gaze back to the papers in his hands. “Right now I need to focus on keeping the country from falling apart.”
“Maybe it should be!” Matthew replied hotly, leaning forward. Arthur glared at him and backed away. “You act like you never even cared about him!” That did it. Arthur whirled to face Matthew; his eyes alight with a fury the Canadian hadn’t seen in years.
“How dare you,” he hissed, blinking away the angry tears pricking his eyes. “Just because I’m not sobbing and carrying on like a lovesick teenager does not mean I didn’t care for Alfred! I loved him, and I never got the chance to say it!” He huffed angrily and turned away, tears tracking down his face. Matthew sat in stunned silence and watched as Arthur’s shoulders started shaking, the quiet of the room overtaken by muffled sobs. Quickly he stood and folded Arthur in his arms, pressing him back into his chest. He could feel Arthur’s breath hitching and knew that he was trying desperately to save face, to stop the traitorous display of weakness.
“Let it out, Arthur,” he murmured softly, his own eyes clouding over. “It’s alright. Let it out.” This only made the Englishman sob harder, a high keening sound erupting out of his throat. Matthew took it in stride and squeezed tighter as Arthur crumpled in his arms.
“I never even got to tell him,” he choked out between sobs, his voice thick and raw. “I didn’t even get to tell him goodbye.” Matthew’s tears fell at this, and he rested his head on top of Arthur’s, rocking gently back and forth.
“I know, Arthur. I know.”
(I think there's only about two or three chapters, maybe four, to post before I catch up with my writing, and then there'll be horrible lag as I write the new stuff. I'm a really slow/lazy writer. >_>)