Armed and Fandomizing

...Well, Then

"Amelia!" America scolded, "Where the heck have you been?!" he burst over and swung her out of her wheelchair plopping her down on the couch. They were in Amelia's long-missed apartment. Amelia was surprised to find America there, waiting for her.

"Whoa, there," she held up her hands in surrender, "I was just rolling out for a stroll. I'm gonna be in this wheelchair for a long time, so might as well."

"Well," America sighed, running his hands through his hair. Amelia laughed when he accidentally nudged his Nantucket, "This war's almost over. Almost. We can't have you wandering around, yet."

"Stop that," Amelia chuckled, "Christmas Eve's today. It'd be a great present for you to finally go back to normal and this war to be cleaned up with a bang."

"In order for that to happen, we need this war to end," America stressed, wringing his hands.

Amelia tilted her head suspiciously, "Yo," she murmured, "You alright?"

"Y-Yeah," America hung his head in defeat, "Well, no, it's just something stupid."

"Well, y'know how any brain with a stressed soul operates," Amelia shrugged, "Everything that's spoken as 'small' and/or 'stupid' are usually the mental wring-aways."

"You're just full of philosophies," America said, "Hard to believe...that someone in something as crazy as heck like this fandom has the capacity to say something as sane..."

"...As a nation that's been in more shoot than any human being could dream of being in?" Amelia raised a brow amusingly, "Lemme tell ya something," she leaned forward from where she was sitting on the couch, "You're a freaking nation that's a global superpower but used like an android from DBH. Though, despite that, you're the hero only if people read in between the lines. Hetalians are like that. We're visibly crazy, insane even. But, look at us," she gestures around the room, but America knows she means outside these walls, "Thanks to us being such international fans among the freaks, we knew more than anyone did and what to do."

America hung onto the words she whispered, "...Even if we weren't in our right minds when we did half the stuff we did. Helps to be insane to stay sane, right?"

America couldn't agree more.

~~~~~

"That's a cool flag you have," Amelia smirked as she watched CJ throw it into a couple twirls. She, Tori and Anya are visiting Amelia (albeit, watching over/protecting her) for the time being.

"Mm," CJ nodded in thanks.

Tori had been trying to decipher CJ's Hetalian-stereotypical Swedish personality. Since CJ had arrived last, at Anya's invite, Tori had been lamenting the entire ordeal to the other two capital-bearing generals. Now they were just watching her flip a flag adding in with Anya and Tori's metal pipes. 

CJ sets her flag taut against her leg, "I am supposing that you remember this flag, General Eastern."

"Hm, that didn't sound like a question," Anya laughed, "No matter what, Americans are still Americans."

"You make it sound like a bad thing, you Commie," Amelia chortled. They were Hetalian, these nicknames were normal training, "And yes, I know that flag by heart."

"I felt like I've seen that flag before," Tori mused, "At first I was thinking that it was the Russian flag, but now I'm not so sure...?"

"Eh, you're half right," Anya smirked, "Literally."

"Huh?" Tori cocked her head to the side confusingly.

"It's half Russian," Amelia crosses her arms, giving CJ an impressed stare, "It's a Rusamein flag."