A few weeks later, Canada has his first hockey match since he got a prosthetic leg. I'm sitting with America in the audience, and New Zealand is sitting in front with Australia, who is in a wheelchair. We still have a while until the game starts... and it's kind of awkward how me and America aren't talking at all.
"So... uh... how's work?" I ask. America shrugs.
"It's boring, but at least I'm making money... an old friend started in the company a while back... at first it was awkward, but we've been getting along great the past year," America said. I nod.
"That's good," I say.
"How about you? Hows your work?" America asked. I want to say it's good, which is a half truth... My business is doing great. I'm managing my tasks very well, and we're prospering... but I don't enjoy what I do at all. The only good thing about it is that it stops me from thinking. "Uh... Britain? Hey, what's wrong?" America asked. Crap, I dissociated. I do it when I start getting lost in thought... I almost look brain dead when it happens.
"Sorry... um... work is fine," I say. America looks unconvinced and takes a deep breath.
"Y'know what? We haven't hung out in a while... how about you come over to my place for dinner?" America asked.
"Tonight?" I ask.
"Sure! After the game ends, I'll drive ya to my place and I'll make us a lil somethin," America said. I smile and nod.
"That sounds nice," I say.
The game ends, and of course Canada's team won. My son is a pro even with the prosthetic. America takes me back to his house, and... well, I guess it's been a while since I've seen it, but his house is massive. It's beautiful too. My little, old, drab house barely compares. We go inside, and it's oddly dark. An old, tired dog walks up to me and stares. It's almost as if he's disappointed I hadn't visited in so long. America turns on a light, but it's still dim. His house isn't filthy, just cluttered and disorganized.
"Sorry, I usually try to clean up for guests," America said.
"That's fine," I say, gently petting the dog. He sighs and lays down, begging me to continue.
"Buster's been sick lately," America said, staring forlornly. I frown. America has had this dog since it was just a puppy... I'd hate to see him go. America starts making dinner, and I awkwardly sit at the dinner table. Buster lies down next to me.
"Have you taken him to the vet?" I ask.
"Yeah, they can't place what's wrong... he's just getting old," America said sadly. I sigh.
"I remember his puppy years... he was so full of life," I say.
"Speaking of, how's Duchess?" America asks.
"She's well, I think she'll be giving birth soon," I say. America smiles and nods.
"That's good... speaking of... have you and mom talked... ever?" America asked. I sigh.
"Uh... I called her to let her know about the accident," I say.
"You two aren't really... friends, Huh?" America asked.
"Acquaintances... we don't hate each other," I say.
"That's good... she seems worried about you," America said.
"Huh?" I say. I didn't know she gave me any thought at all.
"Well... she and Germany talk... and Germany is your secretary... and... Germany says you just seem off lately," America says.
"Oh... I'm sure it's the weather," I say. America looks at me doubtfully.
"Yeah... Um.... you've lost weight as well," America said. I nod.
"I guess I haven't been too hungry lately," I say. America frowns, and I can tell I probably look like the sad, defeated old man I am. America serves dinner, and I take a bite... and then a few minutes later I cleaned my plate, and a few minutes after that I had seconds.
"'Not too hungry' Hm?" America said. I chuckle.
"I dunno... It was just... good," I say. America frowns.
"You're not starvin' yourself are you?" America asked.
"Um... certainly not on purpose. I just... couldn't be bothered I guess," I say. America sighs.
"Britain... meet me at the pub tomorrow... I think both of us need to get out more," America said. I nod.
"Alright... I will," I say.
The next day, after work, I meet America at the bar and...
Dammit, my brothers are here too...
"Britain! It's been a while! Why haven't you visited?" England exclaimed.
"Oh... I've been busy," I say. That's not entirely true. I've been busy, but certainly had enough time to visit.
"I'm glad to run into you guys! We all need to hang out one day, maybe have a family dinner!" America exclaimed.
"That sounds great! Anyway, we'll leave you two alone, don't wanna butt into your 'father-son discussion'," Wales said. My brothers distance themselves, talking to Ireland, the bartender.
"So... what did you want to talk about?" I ask. America smiles.
"Anything! I just want to be with my old man," America said. I smile. We get some beers and just talk. Not being depressing, not lamenting, just having a nice discussion. It's refreshing to finally just... talk to someone about the weather, or a good book, or some crazy thing on the news. I feel like a person again, as weird as that sounds.
"Ame?" I hear a woman say. We turn and see Spain's daughter, Mexico. America smiles a dorky grin.
"Hey Mex!" he says happily. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh I know what's happening here.
"Hello dear, it's been ages! How's your father?" I ask. Mexico smiles.
"He's well! It's nice to see you!" Mexico says.
"You too! Oh America, I remember when you two were little! You had the biggest crush on her-,"
"Dad!" America exclaimed. I smile brightly. Not just because America is a blushing mess, or because America and Mexico are now getting carried off in their own conversation, or because I successfully embarrassed my kid...
It's because, for the first time in years, America called me 'dad'.
YOU ARE READING
You're Always My Babies!
FanfictionAfter almost losing all of his children in a car accident, Britain realizes he hadn't been spending much time with his children recently. And after going on a trip down memory lane, he is dismayed to remember just how rough his children's pasts were...
