Swapped Around

Three~ Going home

I yawn slightly, letting the fresh morning air buffet my hair around my face. Voices murmur above me, not quite making sense to my just-woken-up brain.

"..........-addy......" A slightly familiar accented voice chants. Oh yeah, me and Angleterre got adopted by those two weird countries who came from the other side of the world. Cracking open my eyes, the first thing I see is Britain sitting on America's lap across from me, happily playing with the older nation.

I turn around to see Canada, zoned out as he absently watches the other two. His polar bear cub is asleep on his head, but he doesn't seem to mind. "Canada." I said, shaking his shoulder slightly. His purple eyes turn on me with a look of surprise.

"You remember my name?" He whispered.

"Oui! Why would I forget?" I ask, confused.

"Ah, um.... Most people think I'm my brother..." He replies, looking down. I glance over to where Angleterre is now having a tickle fight with America, who, I have to admit, looks a lot like Canada.

"I can see where zhat comes from." I mutter. Canada smiles, before turning to arouse the two excitable countries from their games.

"France is awake." His tiny voice can hardly be heard over the laughter and shouts made by the adoptive father and son. Angleterre looks up, squeaks at the sight of me and skitters out of sight underneath America's fluffy jacket. America flashes me a quick grin before extracting the smaller country from the folds on fabric and attempting to sooth him.

I watch as Britain, who I have known for almost all my life, snuggles into America and gently nods off. I feel a weird emotion as I watch him act so familiar with this stranger, when he had never shown me this kind of affection through my entire life. I'm not jealous, it just....

I lean back into Canada, resting the back of my head against the crook of his neck. His fluffy hair wafts over my face and tickles my nose as the wind brushes it back and forwards.

"So... What do we do with them?" America asks, probably thinking that I had fallen asleep like the blonde boy in his arms.

"Well, we take them to Germany, and he'll decide what to do then." Canada replies, surprisingly confidently. Maybe he's not shy when he only thinks his brother is listening.

"What?! Dude, that's not fair!" America retorts.

"Shh, you'll wake them!" Canada hisses, nudging me gently to prove who he was talking about. America lowers his voice.

"But like, dude, we found them! We deserve to raise them as well!"

" I don't think Germany trusts you with raising small children, America. They'll probably end up worse than you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, you are in general a badly irresponsible person, and if you raise a kid, they'll pick up the irresponsibility from you and add it onto the irresponsibility of being a kid, making them even more irresponsible than you."

"You said irresponsible too many times. Say it again in easier language dude, I can't understand a word you're sayin'."

Canada groaned with a small smile and repeated the sentence without using the word irresponsible. America made a small noise of protest.

"But come on! Britain dude loves me! I can't just hand him over to some random country, he'd be too scared! Besides, it's not like I'm the worst at raising children. I mean, look what happened to Romano when Spain looked after him! At least I wouldn't teach him to swear in every other sentence!" The angry American ranted.