Hetalia fic - The Longest Road (Canada/America); 7/12
The Longest Road
Rating: R-18
Warning: Future AU, Original character(s), twincest
Summary: In the future, North Korea launches a war that will re-shape the world. The United States and Canada, wrecked by nuclear attacks and plague, fall into chaos. Now, almost two decades later, people have started to turn to some of the few governmental institutions to have survived - those of the native peoples of those lands. Led by the boy from a 400-year old prophecy, they will need to carve out a new future for themselves. And Matthew and Alfred, the nations of Canada and the United States of America, will need to do the same.
“Going home must be like going to render an account.” -- Joseph Conrad
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Hello "Korean peninsula on brink of war" proclamations from North Korea making my plot more plausible. No thank you Mr. Kim. >_< But many thanks to those of you who've reviewed!
Chapter 7 - Backtrack
Alfred is naked, taking advantage of the recent heavy rains to bathe in the barrel out back of their cabin. He`s having some trouble, thanks to the splash-happy bear who keeps trying to clamber in and join him. Matthew watches from the window, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips when Alfred reaches for the soap and is almost knocked out by Kumajirou. The slippery bar hits the dirt, forcing Alfred to clamber out after it with a loud curse.
The fond amusement begins to warm into something different as he watches. Alfred`s arms and shoulders are well-tanned from their labor in the fields, but the tan-line about his waist is obvious. Matthew swallows hard when he is presented with the sight of two round, moon-pale cheeks when Alfred spins around to lecture the bear. Any pudge from all that fast food has long since been sweated away and Alfred is all long, lean muscle and mismatched skin tones, not a stitch of fabric on him, and Matthew doesn`t think he`s ever seen anything so delicious.
Then he turns and has the audacity to crack that grin at his brother, and Matthew is out the door, shoving Alfred back against the barrel so hard he hears it creak. Kumajiriou growls in complaint but Alfred is laughing, throwing his arms around Matthew and returning open-mouthed, hungry kisses with those of his own.
Matthew is about to shed his clothes when a loud cough from the cabin interrupts them. He freezes, teeth closed gently about Alfred`s neck, and feels his brother go tense in his arms.
“Aun - Auntie!” he hears Alfred choke out, and just like that he wilts. He lets go of Alfred, feeling his face burn a red that must rival the blush on his brother`s as he scrambles for his towel.
Mohawk waits on the porch for them, one eyebrow raised. “Really?” she says, unperturbed. “I changed your clothes when you soiled them as babes. I have seen it all before.”
“Auntie!” Alfred yelps again, this time in protest. Matthew too, groans, not needing to hear that. He doesn`t remember much before France found him lost in the woods all those years ago, and he knows Alfred doesn`t either, and hearing things like that causes him to fervently believe that`s for the best. He supposes he should just be grateful their kind aren`t quite like humans. Their family knows has always known what sort of relationship he and Al have, sometimes better even than themselves. It had been taken for granted, expected even, geography and culture and politics all being what they were.
Were they human, he expects there would be a huge outcry against it. But he and Alfred are not human. They belong together. He knows that. He`s rebelled against it in the past, because he doesn`t like thinking that he has no choice in the matter. But now, they have so little left of themselves, other than each other, and Matthew can`t seem to stop clinging.
“Come on,” their aunt says with a click of her tongue. “Hurry up and make yourselves presentable. We have a guest today.”
“Who?” Alfred asks at the same time Matthew blurts out “Is it Jim?”
Mohawk`s mouth quirks up, and she turns her back to them. “The sooner you are dressed and ready, the sooner you will find out,” she responds, walking away.
Matthew and Alfred are both out of breath by the time they arrive at the village. Mohawk gives them a look as if to ask what took them so long, then herds them into the long wooden building that serves as the town`s meeting hall. It is mostly empty, none of the usual elders milling around and talking. Instead, their aunts and uncles are seated around a table, engaged in whispered conversations.
Matthew stumbles to an unsteady halt, and beside him, Alfred does the same. He feels his brother`s fingers brush against his, and knows he feels the same unease. Their relations all wear serious expressions, even the usually boisterous Tuscarora, who is looking down into the mug he holds with an uncharacteristically subdued expression.
As one, the twins` heads swivel when the door behind him opens. “Jim,” Matthew whispers, and he spares a quick glance at Alfred, who has yet to meet their boss. His brother`s eyes are wide like a child`s behind the lenses of his glasses.
“Orenda,” Onondaga greets, standing. Their uncle offers him a seat, which he sinks into gratefully. Instinctively, Matthew takes a step towards the man, but Alfred butts in before he can say anything.
“You`re my new boss then? Our new boss?” Alfred demands to know.
Jim nods, grinning. “That`s right -“ he begins to answer, but Alfred doesn`t let him finish.
“Mine and Mattie`s? Both of ours. What does that mean?”
Jim`s smile doesn`t fade but it takes on a wistful tinge. “Well, that depends on you.”
“Huh?” Although his brother is being much louder about it, Matthew is just as surprised as Alfred. Seneca had said much the same thing to him before, and he wasn`t much closer to understanding the meaning of it now.
Jim gestures at the table and the remaining empty chairs, and Oneida shifts closer to the others, leaving a space open for the two of them. Hesitantly, Matthew sits down. Alfred remains standing for another moment, exchanging a long look with his brother before he too sits. Under the table, Matthew reaches out his hand. When Alfred grabs it and squeezes, he nods, understanding.
“You look much better than last time I saw you,” Jim says once they`re seated. His eyes flicker from one brother to the other. “Both of you. It`s good to see you both up and about. How are you feeling?”
“All right,” Matthew begins, and Alfred nods in agreement. Jim`s eyes soften.
“It`s nice to finally meet you in person Alfred.”
Beside him, Matthew feels Alfred`s leg start to bounce up and down the way it usually does when he was nervous or excited about something. The short bark of a laugh his brother responds with makes it clear just which of those two it is. He could place Alfred`s nervous laugh from half a continent away.
“You too. Mattie says you`ve done a lot to help us out. To help our people out. Thank you,” Alfred says, and it`s clear he means it. “I - I mean it. We owe you big time.”
“You`re welcome,” Jim says, and silence drifts over the room for a bit. Finally, Mohawk breaks it, clearing her throat.
“My apologies,” Onondaga says, exchanging a look of his own with his sister. “But the matter we`re here to discuss?”
“Yes.” Jim nods, setting some papers down on the table. “The fate of the United States of America and of Canada.”
Matthew feels Alfred stiffen and for a long moment, he forgets how to breathe.
“Wait, what about us?” he hears himself ask as if from a long ways away. “We`re still here, aren`t we? What about us?”
He swallows down the panic he can hear rising in his voice. The screech of Alfred`s chair is loud in his ears as his brother moves closer.
“What he said,” Alfred seconds, a stubborn look on his face. He shoots Jim a challenging look, but the man meets it, his gaze steady and even.
“There are talks in progress,” Jim begins in reply, “-talks about what to do now. Where to go from here, as it were. A lot of people are talking about reaching out to other nations, re-establishing contact, but frankly, you`re just not ready for that yet. The people aren`t ready. The governments are too fragmented, too scattered. God forbid someone over there gets it in their head to take advantage of the situation here… Right now, we`re in no shape to resist. We need a stable government, and not just for the tribes, but for everyone. The people need something to look towards, and hold onto. Until you two get yourselves sorted out, they can`t do that.”
As Matthew meets Jim`s gaze, he is brought back to the first time they had met. Once again, the man seems to be peering deep inside, into all the dark shadowy corners that make him up. Alfred holds himself stiffly, and Matthew knows he feels the same. It is as if he`s looking into them, and seeing things even they are unaware of. Matthew shivers, and understands why they call this man Orenda.
“So what do we need to do?” Alfred asks, his voice faint. Matthew shivers, feeling the spell of their boss` gaze wash away.
Onondaga answers this time. “When the harvest comes, appointed representatives from each region will as well. They will try to come to some agreement as to reestablishing strong central governments for you. Before that time, the two of you will need to be ready.” He nods at his brothers and sisters. “We have agreed. Each of you will undertake a vision quest. You will find what you need then… or you will not.”
It takes Matthew a minute to process this. A vision quest was usually undertaken as a coming of age, a journey of self-discovery and the discovery of one`s totems, though he and Alfred already had their totems. It was a rite of passage, and, it seemed, a matter of life or - or -
Matthew swallows hard, as Alfred jerks back. His chair hits the ground loudly behind him. “What?! You can`t mean that!” He looks wildly around the table, eyes glaring into one face after another. “You want to decide what happens to us with a - a - a vision quest? How can you? These are our lives you`re talking about! And to find out whether we get to live or die is all about sending us off into the wilderness to see if we have some dream about Rabbit or whatever?!”
“Polar bear.”
“What?” Alfred turns on him, blue eyes wide and wild, his chest heaving. Matthew thinks he looks like a rabbit then. A frightened one.
Matthew licks his suddenly dry lips, replying in a whisper. “My totem. Polar bear.”
“I know that,” Alfred shouts, but Matthew knows his brother isn`t angry at him. “I didn`t forget,” Al continues, his voice dropping. “I know that. But - but, the point is - the point is -! Well, it`s superstitious nonsense, isn`t it?”
Matthew doesn`t have a reply, and in his silence, Alfred throws his hands up in the air and stalks out. He remains sitting there, listening to his own breathing and looking down at the table.
“Matthew,” Jim says, not unkindly, and he looks up with a growl.
“Don`t,” he snaps. “He`s right. A vision quest to decide our fates? That`s ridiculous!”
“That`s not it at all Matthew,” Onondaga begins、wanting to explain but Matthew isn`t having any of it.
“Isn`t it? You can`t figure out what to do with us, so you send off us on a bit of ridiculous superstitious nonsense, and say from there it`s up to us. And in the meantime, you`ll just happen to be meeting with representatives from all of our governments. Like we`re supposed to believe that!”
“You are much like your brother,” Mohawk observes quietly.
Matthew`s hands clench into fists. “I am nothing like him,” he announces loudly. He shoves back out of his chair so hard that it clangs against the floor, hitting against Alfred`s. He ignores it. Mohawk raises an eyebrow at him and he feels rage surge white-hot inside of him. “I`m not!”
She shakes her head. “You look the same, you sound the same. You share the same blood. But more than that, you often think the same. The same policies, the same blind spots, the same broken promises, the same tired excuses.” She links her hands together. “You march in lockstep, and pitch a fit when one of you falls out of synch.”
Matthew grinds his teeth. “That`s not true! Al and I may look alike sure, but we`re nothing alike otherwise! He`s the one who doesn`t think, who never considers others.”
“ He looks to you for approval you know. He always has,” she says. Matthew scoffs.
“You know that`s not true. Al`s never needed anyone`s approval but his own. He`s always said as much!”
“What your brother says and what he does are often very different things,” Mohawk continues, her voice perfectly even. “Will you continue to use him as your excuse Matthew, as your cover?”
If Matthew had been at full strength, he suspects he would have put his hand right through the table. As it is, he only bruises his knuckles, but at least the loud sound of it echoing through the room is satisfying. “I do not!”
As if tired of him, Mohawk`s voice turns cutting. “You do. You shout about how you two are different, while your actions mirror his, and you slip away quietly because the world`s eyes are on him. And while you complain about that, it allows you to pretend that your own hands are clean in comparison, because no one notices the marks they leave behind when his are there to cover them up.”
No words come to answer her, because his anger boils them away before they can make it out of his mouth. Instead, Matthew kicks the chairs out of his way. He stalks to the exit, feeling their eyes on him and hating it. When Jim calls after him, he ignores the man, except to slam the door shut behind him as loudly as he can.
Matthew doesn`t return to their cabin until late that night. Instead, he spends much of the afternoon stalking about the woods like an angry bull moose. Even Kumajirou seems to want little to do with him, choosing to dangle his hand in the small forest stream and study the minnows there rather than deal with his companion`s anger. The evening breeze doesn`t cool his fury so much as chill it, and allow it to sink down into the pit of his stomach. He can feel it simmering there even as he returns.
Alfred is in bed, but not asleep, although he pretends to be. But Matthew recognizes the way he holds himself under the covers, the tension in his shoulders and the difference in the sound of his breathing. He is too furious to even look at his brother long though. Although it was Mohawk`s words that set him off, the comparison stung, and much of his anger is directed at Alfred. He doesn`t care much at this point whether that`s fair or not, just grabs a hold of his cot and yanks it away. He ignores the way Alfred shifts, curling in tighter about himself, and instead sets his bed up as far away from his twin`s as he can. Still, it is a long time before sleep claims him, and he stares up into the blackness above him, determinedly thinking of nothing at all until it does.
When he sleeps at last, he dreams once more of broken eggs shells, but this time the fragments are dusted with a powder of snow.
Notes:
Vision quests and totems are shared pieces of culture among many indigenous tribes of North America, including the Iroquois. For the purposes of this story, Alfred’s totem is, as said, the rabbit while Matthew’s is the polar bear. There are several reasons for this, but I did feel they do suit the boys. The rabbit symbolizes fear but also quick thinking, movement, and being productive. The Polar bear’s aggression may not seem to fit with Matthew, but it’s also a symbol for strength in the face of adversity and being a good provider.
The bit about Alfred looking to Matthew for approval? Recent surveys conducted by the US-Canada Institute show that most Americans DO believe Canada`s opinion plays a significant role in what the US government decides. Most Canadians however, believe it`s a much smaller role. I choose to interpret this as America looking up to his brother and wanting his respect, while Canada is unaware of this.
I don`t mean for anything in this to be bashing Canada, or excusing America. However, Canada does seem to have largely escaped international criticism despite being guilty of many of the same things the US is, by virtue of (sorry Canada) being lesser known.
Rating: R-18
Warning: Future AU, Original character(s), twincest
Summary: In the future, North Korea launches a war that will re-shape the world. The United States and Canada, wrecked by nuclear attacks and plague, fall into chaos. Now, almost two decades later, people have started to turn to some of the few governmental institutions to have survived - those of the native peoples of those lands. Led by the boy from a 400-year old prophecy, they will need to carve out a new future for themselves. And Matthew and Alfred, the nations of Canada and the United States of America, will need to do the same.
“Going home must be like going to render an account.” -- Joseph Conrad
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Hello "Korean peninsula on brink of war" proclamations from North Korea making my plot more plausible. No thank you Mr. Kim. >_< But many thanks to those of you who've reviewed!
Chapter 7 - Backtrack
Alfred is naked, taking advantage of the recent heavy rains to bathe in the barrel out back of their cabin. He`s having some trouble, thanks to the splash-happy bear who keeps trying to clamber in and join him. Matthew watches from the window, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips when Alfred reaches for the soap and is almost knocked out by Kumajirou. The slippery bar hits the dirt, forcing Alfred to clamber out after it with a loud curse.
The fond amusement begins to warm into something different as he watches. Alfred`s arms and shoulders are well-tanned from their labor in the fields, but the tan-line about his waist is obvious. Matthew swallows hard when he is presented with the sight of two round, moon-pale cheeks when Alfred spins around to lecture the bear. Any pudge from all that fast food has long since been sweated away and Alfred is all long, lean muscle and mismatched skin tones, not a stitch of fabric on him, and Matthew doesn`t think he`s ever seen anything so delicious.
Then he turns and has the audacity to crack that grin at his brother, and Matthew is out the door, shoving Alfred back against the barrel so hard he hears it creak. Kumajiriou growls in complaint but Alfred is laughing, throwing his arms around Matthew and returning open-mouthed, hungry kisses with those of his own.
Matthew is about to shed his clothes when a loud cough from the cabin interrupts them. He freezes, teeth closed gently about Alfred`s neck, and feels his brother go tense in his arms.
“Aun - Auntie!” he hears Alfred choke out, and just like that he wilts. He lets go of Alfred, feeling his face burn a red that must rival the blush on his brother`s as he scrambles for his towel.
Mohawk waits on the porch for them, one eyebrow raised. “Really?” she says, unperturbed. “I changed your clothes when you soiled them as babes. I have seen it all before.”
“Auntie!” Alfred yelps again, this time in protest. Matthew too, groans, not needing to hear that. He doesn`t remember much before France found him lost in the woods all those years ago, and he knows Alfred doesn`t either, and hearing things like that causes him to fervently believe that`s for the best. He supposes he should just be grateful their kind aren`t quite like humans. Their family knows has always known what sort of relationship he and Al have, sometimes better even than themselves. It had been taken for granted, expected even, geography and culture and politics all being what they were.
Were they human, he expects there would be a huge outcry against it. But he and Alfred are not human. They belong together. He knows that. He`s rebelled against it in the past, because he doesn`t like thinking that he has no choice in the matter. But now, they have so little left of themselves, other than each other, and Matthew can`t seem to stop clinging.
“Come on,” their aunt says with a click of her tongue. “Hurry up and make yourselves presentable. We have a guest today.”
“Who?” Alfred asks at the same time Matthew blurts out “Is it Jim?”
Mohawk`s mouth quirks up, and she turns her back to them. “The sooner you are dressed and ready, the sooner you will find out,” she responds, walking away.
Matthew and Alfred are both out of breath by the time they arrive at the village. Mohawk gives them a look as if to ask what took them so long, then herds them into the long wooden building that serves as the town`s meeting hall. It is mostly empty, none of the usual elders milling around and talking. Instead, their aunts and uncles are seated around a table, engaged in whispered conversations.
Matthew stumbles to an unsteady halt, and beside him, Alfred does the same. He feels his brother`s fingers brush against his, and knows he feels the same unease. Their relations all wear serious expressions, even the usually boisterous Tuscarora, who is looking down into the mug he holds with an uncharacteristically subdued expression.
As one, the twins` heads swivel when the door behind him opens. “Jim,” Matthew whispers, and he spares a quick glance at Alfred, who has yet to meet their boss. His brother`s eyes are wide like a child`s behind the lenses of his glasses.
“Orenda,” Onondaga greets, standing. Their uncle offers him a seat, which he sinks into gratefully. Instinctively, Matthew takes a step towards the man, but Alfred butts in before he can say anything.
“You`re my new boss then? Our new boss?” Alfred demands to know.
Jim nods, grinning. “That`s right -“ he begins to answer, but Alfred doesn`t let him finish.
“Mine and Mattie`s? Both of ours. What does that mean?”
Jim`s smile doesn`t fade but it takes on a wistful tinge. “Well, that depends on you.”
“Huh?” Although his brother is being much louder about it, Matthew is just as surprised as Alfred. Seneca had said much the same thing to him before, and he wasn`t much closer to understanding the meaning of it now.
Jim gestures at the table and the remaining empty chairs, and Oneida shifts closer to the others, leaving a space open for the two of them. Hesitantly, Matthew sits down. Alfred remains standing for another moment, exchanging a long look with his brother before he too sits. Under the table, Matthew reaches out his hand. When Alfred grabs it and squeezes, he nods, understanding.
“You look much better than last time I saw you,” Jim says once they`re seated. His eyes flicker from one brother to the other. “Both of you. It`s good to see you both up and about. How are you feeling?”
“All right,” Matthew begins, and Alfred nods in agreement. Jim`s eyes soften.
“It`s nice to finally meet you in person Alfred.”
Beside him, Matthew feels Alfred`s leg start to bounce up and down the way it usually does when he was nervous or excited about something. The short bark of a laugh his brother responds with makes it clear just which of those two it is. He could place Alfred`s nervous laugh from half a continent away.
“You too. Mattie says you`ve done a lot to help us out. To help our people out. Thank you,” Alfred says, and it`s clear he means it. “I - I mean it. We owe you big time.”
“You`re welcome,” Jim says, and silence drifts over the room for a bit. Finally, Mohawk breaks it, clearing her throat.
“My apologies,” Onondaga says, exchanging a look of his own with his sister. “But the matter we`re here to discuss?”
“Yes.” Jim nods, setting some papers down on the table. “The fate of the United States of America and of Canada.”
Matthew feels Alfred stiffen and for a long moment, he forgets how to breathe.
“Wait, what about us?” he hears himself ask as if from a long ways away. “We`re still here, aren`t we? What about us?”
He swallows down the panic he can hear rising in his voice. The screech of Alfred`s chair is loud in his ears as his brother moves closer.
“What he said,” Alfred seconds, a stubborn look on his face. He shoots Jim a challenging look, but the man meets it, his gaze steady and even.
“There are talks in progress,” Jim begins in reply, “-talks about what to do now. Where to go from here, as it were. A lot of people are talking about reaching out to other nations, re-establishing contact, but frankly, you`re just not ready for that yet. The people aren`t ready. The governments are too fragmented, too scattered. God forbid someone over there gets it in their head to take advantage of the situation here… Right now, we`re in no shape to resist. We need a stable government, and not just for the tribes, but for everyone. The people need something to look towards, and hold onto. Until you two get yourselves sorted out, they can`t do that.”
As Matthew meets Jim`s gaze, he is brought back to the first time they had met. Once again, the man seems to be peering deep inside, into all the dark shadowy corners that make him up. Alfred holds himself stiffly, and Matthew knows he feels the same. It is as if he`s looking into them, and seeing things even they are unaware of. Matthew shivers, and understands why they call this man Orenda.
“So what do we need to do?” Alfred asks, his voice faint. Matthew shivers, feeling the spell of their boss` gaze wash away.
Onondaga answers this time. “When the harvest comes, appointed representatives from each region will as well. They will try to come to some agreement as to reestablishing strong central governments for you. Before that time, the two of you will need to be ready.” He nods at his brothers and sisters. “We have agreed. Each of you will undertake a vision quest. You will find what you need then… or you will not.”
It takes Matthew a minute to process this. A vision quest was usually undertaken as a coming of age, a journey of self-discovery and the discovery of one`s totems, though he and Alfred already had their totems. It was a rite of passage, and, it seemed, a matter of life or - or -
Matthew swallows hard, as Alfred jerks back. His chair hits the ground loudly behind him. “What?! You can`t mean that!” He looks wildly around the table, eyes glaring into one face after another. “You want to decide what happens to us with a - a - a vision quest? How can you? These are our lives you`re talking about! And to find out whether we get to live or die is all about sending us off into the wilderness to see if we have some dream about Rabbit or whatever?!”
“Polar bear.”
“What?” Alfred turns on him, blue eyes wide and wild, his chest heaving. Matthew thinks he looks like a rabbit then. A frightened one.
Matthew licks his suddenly dry lips, replying in a whisper. “My totem. Polar bear.”
“I know that,” Alfred shouts, but Matthew knows his brother isn`t angry at him. “I didn`t forget,” Al continues, his voice dropping. “I know that. But - but, the point is - the point is -! Well, it`s superstitious nonsense, isn`t it?”
Matthew doesn`t have a reply, and in his silence, Alfred throws his hands up in the air and stalks out. He remains sitting there, listening to his own breathing and looking down at the table.
“Matthew,” Jim says, not unkindly, and he looks up with a growl.
“Don`t,” he snaps. “He`s right. A vision quest to decide our fates? That`s ridiculous!”
“That`s not it at all Matthew,” Onondaga begins、wanting to explain but Matthew isn`t having any of it.
“Isn`t it? You can`t figure out what to do with us, so you send off us on a bit of ridiculous superstitious nonsense, and say from there it`s up to us. And in the meantime, you`ll just happen to be meeting with representatives from all of our governments. Like we`re supposed to believe that!”
“You are much like your brother,” Mohawk observes quietly.
Matthew`s hands clench into fists. “I am nothing like him,” he announces loudly. He shoves back out of his chair so hard that it clangs against the floor, hitting against Alfred`s. He ignores it. Mohawk raises an eyebrow at him and he feels rage surge white-hot inside of him. “I`m not!”
She shakes her head. “You look the same, you sound the same. You share the same blood. But more than that, you often think the same. The same policies, the same blind spots, the same broken promises, the same tired excuses.” She links her hands together. “You march in lockstep, and pitch a fit when one of you falls out of synch.”
Matthew grinds his teeth. “That`s not true! Al and I may look alike sure, but we`re nothing alike otherwise! He`s the one who doesn`t think, who never considers others.”
“ He looks to you for approval you know. He always has,” she says. Matthew scoffs.
“You know that`s not true. Al`s never needed anyone`s approval but his own. He`s always said as much!”
“What your brother says and what he does are often very different things,” Mohawk continues, her voice perfectly even. “Will you continue to use him as your excuse Matthew, as your cover?”
If Matthew had been at full strength, he suspects he would have put his hand right through the table. As it is, he only bruises his knuckles, but at least the loud sound of it echoing through the room is satisfying. “I do not!”
As if tired of him, Mohawk`s voice turns cutting. “You do. You shout about how you two are different, while your actions mirror his, and you slip away quietly because the world`s eyes are on him. And while you complain about that, it allows you to pretend that your own hands are clean in comparison, because no one notices the marks they leave behind when his are there to cover them up.”
No words come to answer her, because his anger boils them away before they can make it out of his mouth. Instead, Matthew kicks the chairs out of his way. He stalks to the exit, feeling their eyes on him and hating it. When Jim calls after him, he ignores the man, except to slam the door shut behind him as loudly as he can.
Matthew doesn`t return to their cabin until late that night. Instead, he spends much of the afternoon stalking about the woods like an angry bull moose. Even Kumajirou seems to want little to do with him, choosing to dangle his hand in the small forest stream and study the minnows there rather than deal with his companion`s anger. The evening breeze doesn`t cool his fury so much as chill it, and allow it to sink down into the pit of his stomach. He can feel it simmering there even as he returns.
Alfred is in bed, but not asleep, although he pretends to be. But Matthew recognizes the way he holds himself under the covers, the tension in his shoulders and the difference in the sound of his breathing. He is too furious to even look at his brother long though. Although it was Mohawk`s words that set him off, the comparison stung, and much of his anger is directed at Alfred. He doesn`t care much at this point whether that`s fair or not, just grabs a hold of his cot and yanks it away. He ignores the way Alfred shifts, curling in tighter about himself, and instead sets his bed up as far away from his twin`s as he can. Still, it is a long time before sleep claims him, and he stares up into the blackness above him, determinedly thinking of nothing at all until it does.
When he sleeps at last, he dreams once more of broken eggs shells, but this time the fragments are dusted with a powder of snow.
Notes:
Vision quests and totems are shared pieces of culture among many indigenous tribes of North America, including the Iroquois. For the purposes of this story, Alfred’s totem is, as said, the rabbit while Matthew’s is the polar bear. There are several reasons for this, but I did feel they do suit the boys. The rabbit symbolizes fear but also quick thinking, movement, and being productive. The Polar bear’s aggression may not seem to fit with Matthew, but it’s also a symbol for strength in the face of adversity and being a good provider.
The bit about Alfred looking to Matthew for approval? Recent surveys conducted by the US-Canada Institute show that most Americans DO believe Canada`s opinion plays a significant role in what the US government decides. Most Canadians however, believe it`s a much smaller role. I choose to interpret this as America looking up to his brother and wanting his respect, while Canada is unaware of this.
I don`t mean for anything in this to be bashing Canada, or excusing America. However, Canada does seem to have largely escaped international criticism despite being guilty of many of the same things the US is, by virtue of (sorry Canada) being lesser known.