Two Can Keep A Secret

Memory. 1

"How could they?"

America wept. And wept. And wept. Until he couldn't anymore. Russia sat at his side, still and unmoving. A constant, helping to ground him.

America cried until his tears stopped and his eyes dried. All that was left was his voice, choking and sobbing pitifully as he clutched his jacket.

The date was 1861. And the American civil war had just begun.

-

America stood as the states assembled, trying to ignore the few empty spots. The room was eerily silent, his children unable to look eachother in the eye.

The air was tense. As if everyone was waiting for the ball to drop. For the next state to join the Confederacy.

America had been expecting this to happen, to his dismay. He'd been feeling the split, his people had been unhappy.

Judging by the looks on his states faces, they could feel it too.

-

"Amerika?"

A knock on the office door had America starting out of his trance, glancing up to the wooden door. He sighs, glancing to the window on his right. The moon was high in the sky, letting him just see his reflection in the candlelight.

Dark bags under his eyes, disheveled hair and a deep frown mar his face. His once storm blue eyes seem grey, dull and devoid of any colour. He sighs.

"Come in, Russian empire."

The door opens with a loud creak, America wincing at the harsh assault on his eardrums. He faces the paperwork on his desk as he hears heavy footsteps approaching his desk.

"What are you doing awake, little Amerika?"

The smooth, accented voice of the russian empire says. America removes his gaze from the documents, looking up to him. Concern glows brightly in his eyes, hidden behind a blank look. His signature scarf looks out of place on his military uniform.

"I need to get this done, my soldiers-"

"Can wait another day."

Russian empire cuts him off, and he sighs in exasperation. He's weary, he can see that now. He's offered a hand, and America shifts slightly. He hesitantly takes it, being pulled up to stand next to him.

"The battle is nearing. You need rest."

America nearly growls in frustration as he paces around the room with quick strides.
He feels like it hasn't even been a few days since he's gained independence, yet he's  involved in another battle yet again.

But this time.

Oh, this time.

It's so much worse.

This time?

It's against his children.

-

Tears prickle at the edge of his eyes, America hurriedly rubbing it away on the edge of his sleeve.

He'd seen one of his states on the battlefield today. Gun in hand, he'd shouted orders to his fellow soldiers during the chaos.

And then, amidst the gun fire, a strikingly familiar blue gaze. But instead of the mutual love he was used to, a gaze of hatred stared back at him. Standing in the battlefield, cap shadowing his eyes, was Virginia.

"Son?"

He mouthed, stretching a hand out towards him. Nevada held the blank look on his face, no emotion seen. He raises the gun.

A shot.

...

His eyes widened in shock. He looks down, placing a hand on his chest. It comes back blood stained.

...

The First Battle of Bull Run was successfully won by the Confederacy.

-

America remembers each day his states appeared. They were some of the happiest of his life, for some in a not so happy time.

He raised them from toddlers to the people they are today.

America is happy.

Alfred can't help but mourn just how fast they grew.

-

America sits on the edge of his bed, Maine wrapping gauze onto his injured arm. She tightens it, causing a wince to escape from him.

She just tuts.

"Honestly Father, if you weren't so reckless on the battlefield, this wouldn't be so bad."

America opens his mouth to give a sarcastic reply, only to get cut off again by a stern voice,

"I will hit you with this roll if you do not keep still!"

Maine admonished, now cleaning the blood off of his back with a wet cloth. Silence overtakes them, the afternoon sun shining through the window.

"We'll get them back."

Maine freezes. Her hands have a minute shake to them as she continues applying cream to the wounds. America turns around, grabbing her hands in his. He stares her in the eye, saying,

"We will make sure they return home"

She tears up, and they embrace, arms circling one another as father and daughter.

'We have to.'

-

Heyooo. Goddamn, was that a difficult chapter to write. Um so, any Americans reading this? All the info I get is off Google, so please feel free to correct me. I literally have no idea what I'm writing about for battles and stuff lol. Sorry to suddenly hit y'all with the angst, I was feeling a bietjie devious, yknow? Anyways, Goeie morê, middag, aand of nag!