[FANFIC] And In The End
Title: And In The End
Author/Artist: thewaterbandit
Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, England
Rating: G
Warnings: None, although there are mentions of England smoking, if that's a problem for anyone.
Summary: Meet the Beatles, Rock the World, Spark an Argument
Written for 09/09/09
"I can keep my eyes closed unassisted, you know." England grumbled as he was steered through the doors. Today had been an odd one. America had showed up at his house uninvited and demanded half an hour to set up a 'special surprise' for England. While Arthur would normally have dismissed the former colony out of hand, he had been feeling indulgent and knew that letting America get whatever it was out of his system would get the matter sorted out as soon as possible. Nowhere, however, had he consented to letting the other nation put his hands over his eyes to keep the secret safe until the last possible moment.
"Your hands smell of grease." he complained, fumbling for the door handle.
"Lies." replied America cheerfully, opening the door for him and revealing Arthur's living room. "Ta-dah!"
England blinked. The room was much as he had left it this morning- comfortably furnished, with dark wood paneling and a tidiness that came from hiring a maid to clean up after oneself every week. "I don't-"
He was interrupted as America thrust a plastic toy guitar into his hands. Looking down, he could see that it was vaguely familiar, despite the red, green and yellow buttons embedded in the neck.
"What the-"
"It's a video game!" America beamed, turning the television on to reveal a bright, cartoon landscape. "It just came out today- you've heard of Rock Band, right?"
England confessed cautiously that he had.
"Well, this is like that but even better-" Alfred motioned to the white letters on the screen. "This is for the Beatles!"
A sudden silence from England made the younger country look around. England was standing statue-still, gripping the plastic controller so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
"What." He finally managed, his voice cutting through the cheery music that was playing on the television. "What the bloody hell have you done?"
America blinked. "I thought you'd like it." he mumbled, muting the music. "I thought that maybe we could enjoy it together?"
"No. You didn't think." Snapped England, flinging the controller down. "You never think. I mean, heaven forbid you should actually engage whatever passes for a brain in there and consider for even a moment that some things aren't yours to make into... into playthings."
"Hey, your own precious Beatles okayed this themselves, you know." America pointed out hotly, jabbing a finger into England's chest. "It's not my fault you can't enjoy anything."
"Well maybe they shouldn't have let it happen either." England snarled, stalking out of the room and slamming the door behind him. America looked back at the television and sighed.
---
Alfred found England later in the kitchen, his hands shaking as he tried to make himself a cup of tea. A certain smell that clung to his clothes tipped him off to the fact that the other nation had been smoking, something that he hadn't done in years.
"Are you alright?" America asked, as England fumbled with the kettle and cursed.
"I'm fine, thank you." Arthur replied acidly. "As fine as I can be, I suppose, without enjoying anything."
"I didn't mean that." America sighed, even though he had, a little bit. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know that the Beatles were such a touchy subject with you. I mean, if you remember, I was pretty into them as well." He recalled something and laughed. "The amount of Beatles crap I still have in my attic- you know I tried to get Canada to learn bass so we could form a group?"
England turned around. "You're kidding." he blurted, anger momentarily forgotten. "I tried to get my brothers in on it too." He frowned. "Til Wales got in a fight with the Irelands about who would be lead singer. And Scotland put his foot through the drum kit."
He seemed to deflate a little as his anger left him, and America could see that he was more sad than anything else.
"They were like nothing I'd ever heard before." England said, half to himself. "Still are. You have no idea- that I could produce something like that. Like them. It was like... like pride and anger and elation, all in one. I never even met them, you know. I was too scared- about what I'd do to them, being what I am. You know." America nodded- the nations kept their existences secret for a reason. England carried on. "I saw them perform loads of times, though. Was there when they got their MBE." He snorted. "I talked old Wilson into it. He said if they were that popular with me than they were bound to win a few votes. Pipe-addled old sod."
America allowed himself to smile, just a little. He'd never tell England that he'd actually met the Beatles himself, on one of their American tours. He hadn't let slip who he was, either, but he'd managed to wangle their autographs. They had pride of place on his walls, alongside old movie posters and black-and-white photographs of aeroplanes.
"You miss them, don't you?" he asked.
"Like hell." England replied feelingly. There was a long moment where they both thought that same things, although they didn't know it- about history, and music, and about how their people would always, always be bigger then them in ways that they could never achieve.
"Come on." Arthur sighed eventually. "I'll try your damn game." He followed America back into the living room. "But I warn you, I played all these first time round."
Author/Artist: thewaterbandit
Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, England
Rating: G
Warnings: None, although there are mentions of England smoking, if that's a problem for anyone.
Summary: Meet the Beatles, Rock the World, Spark an Argument
Written for 09/09/09
"I can keep my eyes closed unassisted, you know." England grumbled as he was steered through the doors. Today had been an odd one. America had showed up at his house uninvited and demanded half an hour to set up a 'special surprise' for England. While Arthur would normally have dismissed the former colony out of hand, he had been feeling indulgent and knew that letting America get whatever it was out of his system would get the matter sorted out as soon as possible. Nowhere, however, had he consented to letting the other nation put his hands over his eyes to keep the secret safe until the last possible moment.
"Your hands smell of grease." he complained, fumbling for the door handle.
"Lies." replied America cheerfully, opening the door for him and revealing Arthur's living room. "Ta-dah!"
England blinked. The room was much as he had left it this morning- comfortably furnished, with dark wood paneling and a tidiness that came from hiring a maid to clean up after oneself every week. "I don't-"
He was interrupted as America thrust a plastic toy guitar into his hands. Looking down, he could see that it was vaguely familiar, despite the red, green and yellow buttons embedded in the neck.
"What the-"
"It's a video game!" America beamed, turning the television on to reveal a bright, cartoon landscape. "It just came out today- you've heard of Rock Band, right?"
England confessed cautiously that he had.
"Well, this is like that but even better-" Alfred motioned to the white letters on the screen. "This is for the Beatles!"
A sudden silence from England made the younger country look around. England was standing statue-still, gripping the plastic controller so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
"What." He finally managed, his voice cutting through the cheery music that was playing on the television. "What the bloody hell have you done?"
America blinked. "I thought you'd like it." he mumbled, muting the music. "I thought that maybe we could enjoy it together?"
"No. You didn't think." Snapped England, flinging the controller down. "You never think. I mean, heaven forbid you should actually engage whatever passes for a brain in there and consider for even a moment that some things aren't yours to make into... into playthings."
"Hey, your own precious Beatles okayed this themselves, you know." America pointed out hotly, jabbing a finger into England's chest. "It's not my fault you can't enjoy anything."
"Well maybe they shouldn't have let it happen either." England snarled, stalking out of the room and slamming the door behind him. America looked back at the television and sighed.
---
Alfred found England later in the kitchen, his hands shaking as he tried to make himself a cup of tea. A certain smell that clung to his clothes tipped him off to the fact that the other nation had been smoking, something that he hadn't done in years.
"Are you alright?" America asked, as England fumbled with the kettle and cursed.
"I'm fine, thank you." Arthur replied acidly. "As fine as I can be, I suppose, without enjoying anything."
"I didn't mean that." America sighed, even though he had, a little bit. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know that the Beatles were such a touchy subject with you. I mean, if you remember, I was pretty into them as well." He recalled something and laughed. "The amount of Beatles crap I still have in my attic- you know I tried to get Canada to learn bass so we could form a group?"
England turned around. "You're kidding." he blurted, anger momentarily forgotten. "I tried to get my brothers in on it too." He frowned. "Til Wales got in a fight with the Irelands about who would be lead singer. And Scotland put his foot through the drum kit."
He seemed to deflate a little as his anger left him, and America could see that he was more sad than anything else.
"They were like nothing I'd ever heard before." England said, half to himself. "Still are. You have no idea- that I could produce something like that. Like them. It was like... like pride and anger and elation, all in one. I never even met them, you know. I was too scared- about what I'd do to them, being what I am. You know." America nodded- the nations kept their existences secret for a reason. England carried on. "I saw them perform loads of times, though. Was there when they got their MBE." He snorted. "I talked old Wilson into it. He said if they were that popular with me than they were bound to win a few votes. Pipe-addled old sod."
America allowed himself to smile, just a little. He'd never tell England that he'd actually met the Beatles himself, on one of their American tours. He hadn't let slip who he was, either, but he'd managed to wangle their autographs. They had pride of place on his walls, alongside old movie posters and black-and-white photographs of aeroplanes.
"You miss them, don't you?" he asked.
"Like hell." England replied feelingly. There was a long moment where they both thought that same things, although they didn't know it- about history, and music, and about how their people would always, always be bigger then them in ways that they could never achieve.
"Come on." Arthur sighed eventually. "I'll try your damn game." He followed America back into the living room. "But I warn you, I played all these first time round."