Handling a Crisis

Chapter Forty-Three: Changing Bodies

Merry Christmas, everyone! And to those of you who don't celebrate, happy twenty-fifth! Regardless, I hope you're all having a lovely day!

Today, we're gonna be talking about puberty!

You see, when people get older, their bodies start to change as they transition from being a child to bring an adult–

I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I had to make the joke (sorry lol). We're obviously not going to be delving into that topic on Christmas day. Let's get to the chapter!

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

America groaned as he slapped his alarm clock, putting it on snooze. He was so fatigued from being chased around the day before, and his body ached, probably because he fractured late last night. Maybe just a few more seconds of laying in would be fine–

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Or, you know, he could just nod off for a few minutes without even knowing it.

Groaning again, America slapped his alarm clock again and sat up in the darkness of his room– or, his guest room at NATO's– yawning and stretching. He looked at the time. It was 4:05 am. He still had enough time to make breakfast for the kids, dress up, and drive him and Confederacy to the new meeting building the government provided after the first one was brought down before 7:15 hit. Sighing, he brushed his hair out of his face–

Wait...

Hair?

America shrugged it off. He probably accidentally activated his disguise sometime before going to bed and fell asleep as a "human."

Oh well, that's one less thing to remember to do later, he thought to himself. I'm gonna splash some water on my face to wake myself up.

Sluggishly pushing himself up off the bed, he fumbled for his phone and activated Siri. "Hey, Siri, play my morning music," he mumbled. Through some miracle, Siri was able to understand him and started playing his morning music playlist.

America walked to the bathroom across the hall, shut the door behind him, and turned on the lights, shutting his eyes and wincing at the brightness of them. He blindly set his phone down on the counter, turned on the sink, leaned down, cupped his hands under the running water, and splashed the cold water onto his face.

Huh. Last he checked, humans had noses, right?

America cracked his eyes open and saw his regular, white hands beneath his face, glistening with water droplets. He slowly looked up at his reflection in the mirror and stumbled back, holding back a startled scream. Once his initial fear ebbed away a little, he pushed himself off the wall a little.

"What the fuck?" he breathed.

Instinctively, he crept forward and touched his hand to the mirror, half expecting the image of himself to do something. Wink, laugh, speak, do something other than what he was doing that would tell him he was dreaming or hallucinating, and when it didn't, America was forced to face the facts.

He had changed.

America backed away from the mirror, allowing himself to take in his new features. The changes he was currently focusing on weren't exactly new. On his left bicep was an arrow, the shooting kind, pointing in front of him. America turned and saw a sun with seven rays on his right shoulder blade. He couldn't help but smile. He'd lost his tattoos when Britain had taken him from his home. It was nice to have them back.

Tearing his attention away from his returned tattoos, America looked up. His head was actually human-like, not a sphere. He had an oval face that wasn't exactly chiseled, per se, but he did have high, prominent cheekbones. On top of his head was long hair that swooped down to the left across his forehead with a sort of scruffy look, the hairstyle slightly reminiscent of the famous emo fringe™ from the 2000's. His hair was the same blue as his rectangle and it faded to white, and it also occasionally faded into red at the tips. America's eyes were still black... for the most part. He had a ring of very light grey, similar what the moon is coloured, in the place where his irises would've been.