Stuff & Things & Pablo

History an stuff

Surprise one shot about America and Confederate after the war? Yes please

(Btw there is a lot of words and stuff and this is basically an excuse for me to try and gently explain to the CH fandom that an 'acceptable' Confederate 'redemption' should not under any circumstance be in any way related to or directly a copy of 'The Lost Cause' (which is slavery denying, kkk sympathizing bullhooey that is the direct reason why a lot of people in the south don't actually know why the civil war occurred in the first place-))

Also btw, in my headcannon some of the states are white, but some of them are Indigenous or black. This is mostly for diversities sake, but this also means there's some additional context that might not reflect actual historical events. Just comment if u have any questions and I'll be happy to explain

Anyway enjoy and remember that slavery is inherently wrong no matter what anyone says <3

[confederate is on his death bed doing the die. America is sitting by a window across the dimly lit room]

"...I never meant any personal harm to befall you, brother," Confederate said, his voice low and weak. America remained silent, his eyes fixed to the states completing construction of a new freedman's bureau building nearby the White House gates. "... I was just fighting for the freedom I believed in...,"

"Don't pretend you weren't fighting for the sole purpose of protecting the practice of slavery in our country," America responded, his voice cold and empty. Confederate felt his throat grow sore as he held back a sob. His twin was no longer the warm, hospitable young man he'd remembered from before Confederates act of treason. America now seemed hardened and stoic, with hardly a gleam of emotion to his voice.

"I-I'm not a bad person, you know this, brother-,"

"I know you as the boy you've always been. You were a cynical and unfeeling young man. Despite this, I loved you. I cared about you. I tried so hard to keep us together... And you convinced yourself that I was a nuisance, a fool, and horrid leader simply because I wanted to abolish slavery," America said. Confederate was silent. "I can tell you realized how wrong you were early on. Those enslaved men and women were not happy, nor were they unable to comprehend their suffering. When those formerly enslaved escaped their plantations to come to the North- to raise arms against those who wronged them- I know you saw just how human they were, did you not?"

"...I did... But...,"

"Your states even proposed counting Louisiana and Texas as contributing to a quarter of the south's population. It's because despite Louisiana being black and despite Texas being indigenous, you knew they were human enough to contribute to your power and control, without granting them control of their own- and so I do not want to hear your argument of 'states rights' when some of our appointed states were enslaved for the color of their skin," America spat. Confederate shrunk, his eyes clouded with tears and affixed to the sheets of his bed. With every word coming from his twins mouth, Confederate could feel himself fragmenting and dusting away.

"...I was wrong...," Confederate conceded weakly.

"Is that all you'll say? I lose my closest confidant to his own greed, my dear brother to his twisted beliefs, and all he gives me is a vague admission of fault?" America asked, turning to face Confederate. Confederate closed his eyes, gripping the blanket draped over his body.

"N-North... I'm really sorry... I... I'm horrified that I ever believed any humans purpose was to serve whites... I-I just...,"

"It was rather convenient to live such a lavish lifestyle, wasn't it? Built off of slave labor... it's rather appalling how you could have taken such issue with something you fought so hard to keep legal. It's as if you never wanted to face the fact that you did something so immoral god might very well not accept you into heaven," America spat. Confederate began to sob, and America shed a single tear, wiping it away as soon as it hit is chin.

"I-I... I'll never atone for this, brother, I know... no state, city, or town I've enslaved or fought to keep enslaved will forgive me, and I know... And what scares me most is now I've become a martyr... Brother, for every comforting lie I've told myself, my men have shared dozens more amongst themselves... they've forgotten- or willfully ignored- the yearning to protect slavery, which built the foundation of our rebellion... in their eyes, I was a misunderstood hero, not a selfish coward... they've convinced themselves that the slaves were perfectly happy. They convinced each other that non-whites were incapable of rational thought. I-I... I ruined this country...," Confederate cried.

"And the worst part is I soon will have to fix it all alone," America said, emotion finally creeping back into his voice as he also began to cry. The two cried softly on their corners of the room, before Confederate controlled his tears and spoke.

"I always underestimated how much I cared about you," Confederate said softly. This sentiment greatly offended America, but he couldn't even begin to verbalize this frustration. How could someone who so blatantly betrayed him say this and expect him to believe it? Confederate cleared his throat. "I mean... I suppose I never truly appreciated the love and kindness you showed to me. I always saw it as a nuisance... but whenever it was gone, I felt so... alone. I realized I always loved you so much, but was too self absorbed to really see it...,"

"Did you ever truly care about me? Or just the fact I always devoted so much time to try and make you happy?" America asked softly. Confederate suddenly saw the same emotional, hospitable, innocent young man his brother has always been, peaking ever so slightly through his new cold exterior.

"... perhaps you were the only person who truly tried to make me happy... the only person I've known to try so hard to push past my cynicism... I... truly apologize that I never quite let you get through to me before my ego got the better of myself...," Confederate said. America closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before running to his brothers side and holding him in a tight hug.

"I hate you... I hate you so much... how could you have done this to me? I don't want to run this country alone South, I-I'm so scared...I can't do this alone...," America sobbed. Confederate held America, crying as he began to fade away.

"You'll be fine, brother... you always were smarter than I... I'm so sorry I ever called you a bad leader," Confederate said softly. "I... I love you, America."

America stayed still, even as he felt his brothers body fade to dust, he stayed grasping onto the bed where his brother once laid. And after an hour, New York entered the room.

"Sir? The states are waiting for you in the meeting hall... oh...," New York said, seeing America nearly asleep on his brothers death bed.

"I'll be there in a moment, New York... let the others know that...," America said, propping himself up and drying his eyes. New York nodded, and left without another word.