Countryhumans Oneshots

The 11th State

New York and America fluff requested by Brookylen3

America had never been happier. He thought he had been happy with his father, and maybe a part of him had been, but he had never been happier than he was now.

With his kids all getting their own bodies, with the ones still inside his head talking to him, with knowledge about James, and his independence, America was happy. He felt content.

His Constitution had been ratified with the inclusion of New Hampshire, so now America was just waiting for the rest of his states to get their bodies. The most recent one had been number eleven, New York, who had taken great delight in being reunited with his twin. He had calmed down since then but still took great pleasure in relishing in his newfound freedom.

It made America happy to see him happy.

North Carolina and Rhode Island and Providence Plantations had been pretty loud following New York's admission, mad that they were the last two left to get a body, and causing America plenty of headaches in the process. James had gotten them to quiet down, so America was left with the peace and quiet of his own thoughts.

"Dad?" New York said. America sighed, sitting up from where he was lying down on his bed. A father's work was never done.

"What is it, York?" America asked. New York winced.

"It's okay, I can—"

"No, no, York, it's okay. I don't mind. Just a bit tired," America said, giving his son a small smile. New York perked up and walked over to the bed, climbing next to America, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." New York said. America nodded, throwing an arm over his son's shoulders.

"Okay. You can always tell me if you need anything. I won't judge. You guys were in my head for years. I've learned to be a little open-minded," America said. New York groaned.

"That was terrible, Dad," America smiled.

"I have to make up for all the years I missed out on it," America said before running his hand through New York's hair.

"I hate my body." New York eventually said after a few moments of silence.

"Why's that?" America asked, concerned as he pulled his hand away.

"Back in your head. I looked...physically, I was, like, eighteen or something. Now I'm seven. I'm a child now. My wings are fluffy, and I can't fly with them and I hate it so much. I'm too old to be seven, not just in the usual country way but actually too old. I hate it." New York said, burying his face in his hands.

"I know. It must be awful to have everyone thinking you're a child when you've lived through and seen so much. I wish...I wish I could do something to help, do something to make your body seem older, but I can't. It'll catch up eventually. Delaware already looks eighteen. Your years will catch up. You just have to give it time." America said.

"I don't want to wait. I want to be my age now. I hate this. I hate having to be younger than Del and Jay. We're all the same age, practically, but they're adults, and I'm a fucking child, and it's the worst!" New York said, small wings flaring out in his frustration, angry tears pouring down his face.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could do something to help or to change things. But it's okay to be upset by this," America said, returning his hand to New York's hair, smiling as New York relaxed into his side.

"I know. Thank you for listening." New York said. America hummed out an acknowledgment.

"Would you like me to talk to the others about making fun of you or saying anything about your physical appearance?" America asked. New York shook his head, burying his face in his shirt.

"No. Don't want them to think I'm being dumb." New York said before pulling his face out of his shirt and looking up at America with wide eyes.

"You aren't being dumb. They've all gone through what you're going through right now. They'll understand," America said gently. New York yawned.

"Maybe. But don't tell them yet," New York said before burrowing into America's side. America kissed his son on the forehead.

"Alright. I won't. But if they're ever bothering you, let me know." America said. New York nodded.

"I will. Good night, Dad." New York said. America smiled fondly.

"Good night, New York." As his son slowly fell asleep in his arms, America couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the love he was feeling. It was amazing to have a son, to hold him and cherish him.

He knew New York hated being younger, but America was glad he got to see it now.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you were younger. I promise I'll be there for you now."

He would always be there for his children.