The (Sometimes) United States of America

3. Where does the apostrophe in yaint go?

Germany, Meeting room
Germany sighs, rubbing his forehead. "So, you have fifty-six children, including territories?"

America nods. 

"And they all just... live with you?"

America raised his eyebrows. "Um, no. That would be mass chaos. Most of them live within their own states. They come home for Christmas and Thanksgiving, but there's no way they could all live together full time."

"Why?" France has a peculiar expression- a mix of questioning and something almost like loss.

America shifts. "Well, I found Virginia- the twins- in 1739, and then the rest of Originals. When the war started, I didn't want them drawn into it in any form. By the revolution, I'd figured it was better if no one knew, that way it wouldn't come down on them if we lost the war."

"The Seven Years war didn't start until 1756. That's an entire decade and then some. Why did you originally decide that no one else deserved to know?" England bit out. 

America met his gaze steadily. "Not all of the colonies were English. There were sixteen, not thirteen- two Virginias, Maine, Vermont." 

France's eyes widened.

Germany changes the subject before a fight can start. "Will we be meeting them?"

America shrugs, successfully distracted by the question. "I won't force them to do anything. They will if they want to."

California had been an experience. If there were fifty-five personifications like her, then Germany wasn't sure he wanted to meet them all. 

One America was quite enough, thank you.

Germany just nods again and stands to start the meeting. 

America

Of course, that isn't the end of it. 

The Netherlands approaches him during the five-minute break to ask what exactly California meant about the height and messy hair, and America sighed and simply told him that New Jersey and New York weren't exactly English. 

Spain throws paper balls at him asking questions about Cal, and then he must have googled former Spanish territories because he starts asking about Florida and the other Alta states and Texas and America wants to bang his head against a wall. 

Ukraine and Belarus have at least decided that Russia is the better one to bother, even though Belarus keeps shooting America suspicious looks. 

France works up the courage to ask about Louisiana and Vermont, and America tries to keep his responses as vague as possible. 

But out of all of them, England is the one who latches on to America after Germany dismisses them and says that he'd like to meet them.

Which isn't the greatest idea. America tries to explain this without mentioning words such as revolution or fire. 

Unfortunately, England has made up his mind.

So America texts the group chat, and prays he won't have to break up a fight tonight.

England

"I thought we were going to meet your states?" England blurts out as America hands him a stack of pizza boxes. 

America himself is carrying even more boxes, and he snorts. "They're teenagers. Pizza is a peace offering."

America leads him into a government building and this must be a regular occurrence, because the workers just smile and buzz them in, holding doors whenever necessary. 

England follows America through another door and nearly drops the pizzas at the sight of what is clearly the states. America had apparently anticipated this, because he reaches out to steady England's stack even as he drops the ones he had carried onto the table.

America had had their entire collective attention from the moment he walked in, but now some of it was on England, too. 

The states didn't have place cards the way nations did, so he had no idea which ones were which, but England recognizes California leaning against a boy with a similar skin tone and eye color, and Alaska and Hawaii sitting beside each other.

He glances over the states, pausing for a moment to wonder about the state with one blue eye and one green, taking in the different hair and eye colors, the vast difference between skin tones. 

A girl who looks like Spain has her head on a redheaded girl's shoulder. A boy with France's eyes and green glasses taps his fingers against the table. A girl who looks startlingly like Mexico has her head propped up on her hands. 

England stops when he catches sight of the state watching him suspiciously with familiar green eyes. Her hair is dyed bubblegum pink, but he's almost certain that under the dye is pale blonde hair. 

His breath catches in his throat. 

"Three seconds in and he's unresponsive from shock. Nice."

America sighs. "Daniel."

The state- Daniel, apparently- shrugged. The almost identical one beside him gave America a lopsided grin. "Is he wrong, though?" Not-Daniel mused.

America rolled his eyes, grabbing a chair and situating it beside the empty one at the head of the table before he sat down. 

It took a few seconds of America staring at him expectantly to realize that he was supposed to sit down, too. 

"You missed it, Al, Austin unironically said y'aint in a sentence." A girl called out to break the silence. 

There were several muffled laughs. 

One of the boys lifted his head from where it had been pillowed on the table to glare at her. "You try working a sixty-hour week, doing all this paperwork, and then getting on a plane to go halfway across the country, and then trying to stay awake enough to care about something as trivial as double contractions. So fuck y'all." 

America turns a laugh into a cough. Most of the states don't bother to hide their laughter.

The state rolls his eyes and nods at England in greeting. "I'm Texas."

America leans toward England. "Southwest likes you better than the East Coast. They don't really have a reason to hate you, please don't give them one."

So England gives Texas a half-smile. "England."

The girl on Texas's other side grins. "Yeah, we know."

"Evangeline," America sighs out.

The state sitting closest to England rolls her eyes and leans in. "Evangeline is Louisiana, and Daniel and David are the Carolinas," She helpfully whispers.

"And you are?"

"Delaware."

Delaware is a state he remembers at least. 

They both watch as half the table dissolves into chaos as they argue whether pineapple is an acceptable pizza topping. 

"Are they all usually like this?"

Delaware grins. "Worse, usually."

Authors Notes

where does the apostrophe in yaint even go?????