USUK/UKUS One Shots

Under Lock and Key (Part Two, Angst Request)

Request for HetaliaIsCool on Archive of Our Own

Word count: 2,067

Estimated read time: 16 minutes

Warnings: Major character death, implied/referenced rape, implied/referenced suicide, implied/referenced character death, implied/referenced abuse, angst

Canada knew better than to talk back. He knew better than to tell England what he thought. He was a colony, after all, and colonies don't get opinions. Everyone knew what happened when America formed some, and he didn't want to end up on house arrest, too. Then he got the news from England, and he felt tremors in his obedience.

"You're lying to me. You'd better be lying, England. Tell me you're just making a bad joke."

"I'm not, Canada. He's gone. I'm sorry."

Being calm in front of the empire that owned him was always his go-to move, and he was afraid of being vulnerable. The last time he had cried in the presence of someone else was when America held him while he sobbed at the loss of France.

"Shhhh, it's okay, just cry it out."

"I c- can't! I can't be England's; I just can't!"

America's grip around him tightened, and he kissed the top of his brother's head. "I'm right here, Canada, I swear. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm French! Not British!"

"No. You're Canadian," America said firmly. "Don't let them take that from you. Empire or not, they are not your identity. You are your own person, Canada."

"Not anymore! England's going to take all the things I had! What if my people have to change religions? What if he makes me pay for the war's damages? I can't!"

His fingers carded through Canada's hair, and he hushed him gently, not allowing him to fall apart completely. Because he couldn't be ruined if America was there, holding him together. It was at that moment that Canada decided there was no one in the whole world he loved more than his brother.

"I've got you," America assured. "I won't let anyone hurt you. As long as I'm here, you're going to be okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Now, tears were leaking out of Canada's eyes, but this time, the person witnessing them wasn't his brother. It was the one person Canada hated more than anyone else on Earth. So he bit his lip and stemmed the flow, refusing to be weak.

"W- What happened?" He stuttered out.

"He took his own life," England clarified, wrapping his arms around himself uncomfortably. "Two days ago."

For years, ever since England snatched him away from France, Canada used cold indifference to convey his hatred. But now, today, standing in his living room and staring back at England, who kept his eyes glued to something behind Canada (he couldn't even look him in the eyes, the coward), he felt his brittle apathy snap.

"Fuck you, England!" He screamed, startling his mother country. "Fuck you! This is all your fault!"

"Canada-" He began in warning, but Canada barely heard him.

"If you had set him free, he'd be okay! But you ruined him! Every single day, you broke him a little more! And now he's dead, and it's your fault!"

England gritted his teeth. "That's no way to speak to-"

"You killed him! He may have committed suicide, but you're the one that drove him to it! You murdered my brother!"

"Silence!" England commanded, knowing the exact tone that always made his colonies fall in line. "I will hear no more of this. I sympathise with your distress, but America made his own choices, and-"