I Am Canada (A Hetalia Fanfic)

1840: World Changes

"You're all following the plan so far?" Britain clarifies.

Canada glances at the men sitting next to him, waiting for them to speak. Quebéc exhales heavily and crosses one leg over the other, simultaneously folding his arms in front of his chest. He brushes off his blue vest, his white shirt as clean and pressed as his black tie, his overall appearance very sophisticated.

Ontario shoots the fellow province dirty looks every now and then, fiddling with the slightly-oversized brown suit he has on; one of Arthur's hand-me-downs and a last-minute resort.

"I don't get why it's even needed," Ontario huffs. It's no surprise to anyone in the room that he makes his opinion known first. He stands up, shifting as he fixes his jacket as best he can. "I'm doing just fine as Upper Canada."

Québec laughs, running a hand through his sandy brown hair as his pale eyes flicker to the blond. "Oh hon, now that is hilarious," he scoffs. "The rebellions are still affecting you just as much as they are affecting me!"

Canada lowers his head, clenching his hands together in his lap at the mention of the rebellions. Before the peaceful nation can say a word, Britain gets to his feet and smacks his fist against the table, silencing any further outburst from Ontario.

"May I remind you, but those blasted rebellions are the reason we are having this meeting!" he snaps. The provinces look at their laps, although their eyes dart sideways and narrow when they catch the other looking. Britain sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Seeing as our conversations so far have gone nowhere, we'll reiterate and then decide."

"You gave America responsible government when he was practically a baby," Ontario says, adjusting his glasses. "We ask for responsible government between the three of us, but no, you couldn't give us that!"

"Maybe because America has always been your favourite," Québec utters, hardly trying to disguise the bitterness in his tone.

Britain's face turns red with rage as he grits his teeth. "How dare you accuse me of picking favourites! I raised you lot from tiny colonies to where you are now. Is that nothing?"

Québec laughs again, the sound so much like his big brother's that it makes Britain shudder. "Oh, right, I'm supposed to be thankful."

"You Frenchmen are all the same," Britain nearly growls, his eyes like pits of fire as he glares at Québec. "Ungrateful—"

"Britain, he's trying to make you upset," Ontario warns, focusing on his big brother. "It's not your fault France just handed Canada over to you just so he could keep Guadeloupe, Martinique, Saint Lucia, Gorée, and some Indian factories."

Québec clenches his jaw as he lifts himself to his feet, knuckles turning white as he clenches his hands into tight fists. Canada is the only one still seated now. The blond feels his eyes itch, but forces whatever sorrow he feels back. He can't think about that now. Now is a time for different negotiations.

"Québec, I think—" he starts.

"He could've kept raising us if you hadn't stepped in and decided to fight over Canada!" Québec shouts, although he sounds more hurt than angry. "If you hadn't forced him into that decision—"

"Don't attack him, he made you better!" Ontario turns on the French province, nearly bristling. "France abandoned you, Laurent. He doesn't care. Arthur cares. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him."