America the Mysterious (United States of America #1.5)

Through My Eyes (Part 5)

*Requested by Konataya*

That day came and went, and Canada had never seen so much hatred in his sister's eyes.

She looked horrible with her sickly pale skin, the blood that stained the upper area of her dress, and her overall shaking form. When she looked at Canada, she would back away and take hold of her de-aged sons Washington D.C. and Maine, who somehow appeared with America, the former who was sobbing in his mother's arms and the latter who was eerily unresponsive.

And good god...

The capital has so many disgusting burns on his form, all newly formed and some places still burning hot. Most of his hair was gone, and some of the burns were spreading onto America, but she didn't seem to care as she worked to stay as far away from Canada as she could.

"How could you...?" America asked. "Why?! Are you happy now? Are you happy that you've hurt my children?! Well, are you?!"

Canada flinched, the guilt in his heart expanding by the minute. "A-America..."

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked. "Just...stay away from us. Stay off our lands! Neither you nor that demon is allowed to return! If you ever return, I'll kill you myself!!"

Washington D.C. whimpered again, and, without taking her eyes off Canada, America brought the eldest of her two present sons closer, backing away, before she flat out sprinted to her bedroom in her colonial home.

Canada didn't bother following her, knowing whether or not he did, nothing could change what he had done. If only he had known they would be harming innocent children, not just America; If only his rage didn't blind him to the facts, especially that America couldn't control her people, including their thoughts; If only England wasn't so desperate to get her back; and if only they realized they would destroy whatever relationship they had with America from that one act alone.

How could they be so stupid? Now, the fact that America considered Mexico to be her only "living" brother hurt more than it was supposed to.

~~~

The little Washington D.C. continued to whimper in pain, even as America tried to bandage his burns. Meanwhile, little Maine sat on the bed, completely unresponsive and motionless, with his eyes vacant and staring into an undisclosed distance. She bandaged and cleaned the burns as best she could before she picked up little Daniel and walked over to Bernard, also taking him into her arms.

Finally, Maine seemed to come back to reality, but only enough so he can try wrap his tiny arms around his mother's waist. America, for the first time in hours, felt tears come to her eyes, because she was scared. Scared for her president and Miss Dolly, scared for the people who were in Washington D.C. when the British, England, and Canada attacked, and, most of all, scared for her children.

She quietly sobbed into their heads. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to them, meaning those three words with all her soul. "I'm so sorry..."

What kind of mother was she? How could she just allow her children to be hurt and traumatized? What kind of mother does that?

She may never know.

~~~

France knew this day was coming, especially when Canada arrived at the meeting; pale, emotionless, and otherwise broken. He didn't need to be told to know what had happened.

However, France didn't bother to comfort his former charge, knowing the boy had asked for this. In fact, they all have.

After learning of what England and Canada had done to America, France did try to go visit her (when he still thought the younger nation was a man), but so many people gazed at him with so much distrust and hostility, sometimes even throwing rocks at him, that he was forced to leave. Now, France understood that he should've done more, because now America has no reason to trust or care for him.

He also failed.

Failed as a father-figure.

Failed as a man.

And, worst of all, he failed as a human.

And he'll never make up for it. There was no way to, because he threw away all his chances like they were nothing more than fucking trash.

It was not only France though, because most of the nations did the same, and now, America is forced to work with the people who previously despised her very existence, and for no good reason. She didn't care for them, and they deserved it.

Especially France himself.

Sadly, America will never know how much the nations who did ridicule her cared for her, even more than a friend. Even if she did, she would throw their feelings back at them, just as they did her.

"What's with the look frog?" England spat, glaring at his neighbor, but flinched when France glared at him, the malice under it unlike the arguments they usually have.

"What do you zhink Angleterre? Look at Matthieu."

England did, and even still, was confused.

France was so tempted to punch himself right now. "He has harmed his own sister, and did not use his head before doing so. Same with you."

Finally, England understood, and all color drained from his face.

"This is only zhe beginning Angleterre," France continued. "The beginning of zhe future we've been asking for. A future where Amerique wants nothing to do with us, where we destroyed whatever relationship we had with her, and we don't appreciate what we've had until it's gone."

"T-That's..."

"It's too late now Angleterre, and you know it. We will never become close to her again, and we have no one to blame but ourselves."

Again, I wasn't in a good mood when I was writing this. The War of 1812 (especially in Hetalia) is not exactly something I can write about without becoming angry at England and Canada. To be honest, I don't know who to hate more; the nations or just England and Canada. In my opinion, they don't deserve America's love, especially with how they've handled it. America deserves so much better.