Where Thou Art, That Is Home (Hetalia Fanfic, Part 2)

Chapter 101~!

"Hey, how're you holding up?"

The question was sudden, out of the blue. Canada turned to look at Joy, who stood with an arm around her daughter's shoulders. The slight surprise on Matthew's face dwindled, allowing a calm yet sad expression take its place.

"I'm fine..."

"No, you're not," was her cheery reply that made him flinch almost imperceptibly. "I can see. My eyes work."

"Th-Then why ask?" he inquired.

"I just wanted to hear your answer," she explained. "Is Milo doing okay in the hospital? Why aren't you there with him?"

"I got the call to come here, so France stayed with him a-and the other two. H-He's alright..." Matthew trailed off slowly, trying not to stutter and still failing anyway.

Tael peeked around Matthew's legs and looked relieved. "I didn't like it back at the hospital."

"Wah!" Matthew exclaimed, whirling around. "T-Tael! What're y-you doing here?"

"I just said, I didn't like the hospital," Tael answered. "I got in the car with you. Don't you remember?"

"I-It must have slipped my mind..." Canada looked a bit ashamed for not realizing that Tael had been sitting right next to him in the car.

Serenity shrunk in on herself a bit and scooted farther behind Joy's legs. After what she'd been through, she was afraid of Tael after a first glance. The boy wasn't exactly normal, or at least not by most people's standards.

Tael didn't notice her at first, though, and therefore wasn't affected by it.

"Matthew, who'm I staying with?"

The question reached many pairs of ears even if it wasn't very loud. America turned a bit to look over his shoulder at the boy. No, at his boy. Tael was his son.

His son...

Rayn's grip on her husband's hand tightened, if just barely, and he looked down at her. "Rayn? You okay?"

"I need to talk to you," she said, pulling him out of the room, up the stairs, and into an unoccupied hallway on the ground floor.

So, she was sure that Tael was also her son. And when she looked at America when they stopped walking, he was surprised to see her once again on the verge of tears.

"He's our son. That's what Danny told me," America began. "But... I don't know. I don't know what we should do."

"I can't," she said in a low, quiet voice. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I... I closed that door years ago."

America sighed. "You mean you don't want to take him back?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, clutching her upper arms and staring at the floor. "But... After all that, eleven years ago... I couldn't. I have two children, that's all."

His hands found her shoulders. This was feeling familiar... "Rayn, it's okay. Really. I understand. I don't exactly like it, but if you can't be able to accept him as your son then there's no point in taking him in."

Her eyes met his slowly. And there it was. That look that made America remember why he loved Rayn so dearly even when she acted cold and stubborn and, sometimes, downright infuriating.

She needed a hero to hold her.

"Al..." she said softly, letting herself fall forward that few inches to bury her face in his muscled chest. "I'm sorry... I feel like a terrible person..."