For I shall already have forgotten you

Intermission: America

As far as he could recall, it was always Canada who made time for him, never vice versa. And when they were with each other, America still made it all about himself.

Is that who Canada was? Someone reusable, interchangeable...disposable?

No. Canada was...a country. He's strong, and brave. Smart, and intelligent. He's not someone to be looked down upon, and America could attest to that fact.

If he was being honest with himself, he envied Canada. Canada had a way with words America did not, and it was Canada who had peacefully gained his independence from England. Canada, who got along with just about everyone.

There was also a time when Canada had been too shy to talk to America, so he relayed what he wanted to say to England instead. That had been awkward for the both of them, but now America felt the roles were reversed.

This time, there'd be no intermediary. The words he wanted to say to Canada, if they ever met again, he hoped he could tell him face to face.

iv.

On one of the occasions America had a break from work, he was back in his capital, Washington D.C. These days, world meetings were more like "meetings" and less like an excuse to goof off.

But there's no rest for the wicked. There had been a worrying uptick in crime after dark lately, particularly around the National Mall area.

America took it upon himself to catch the criminals. The local law enforcement were well aware of who he was, so he'd have no problem turning the "bad guys" in.

That night was supposed to be like any other, until he caught sight of the perpetrator dragging a lone woman into an alleyway.

Now this will be too easy..., America thought. Empty street? Check. Dim lighting? Check. Any other bystanders nearby? Nope. He cracked his knuckles in anticipation as he got ready to follow the culprit into the alley.

But hold on...who the heck is that?

There was another person sneaking into the alleyway! From the looks of it, this person was also a woman. He'd have to hurry before this would-be do-gooder becomes the next victim.

As he ran to the scene of the crime, America expected to hear shouts, sounds of struggle, or anything really, but the alley was strangely quiet. When he arrived at the entrance, he saw an unexpected sight: the woman who had brazenly went after the criminal, was now choking him!

In fact, she knocked him out so quickly that barely fifteen seconds had passed before he was on the ground, and she was rummaging through her bag for duct tape.

America stood in shocked silence, until he came to his senses as the mysterious woman was about to duct tape the felon's legs.

"Need some help with that?"

The woman flinched, as she nearly dropped her tape in surprise. She whirled around, giving America his first good look at her face. What he saw made him breathless.

Her eyes. They were the same as his - as Canada's. America would recognize them anywhere.

Her face too, while softer than Canada's, bore an uncanny resemblance. And her glasses made their similarities all the more apparent.

America found himself unable to look away as they started a conversation together. She was nervous, and stuttered over her words while she introduced herself.

Her name was like Canada's too. Madeline Williams.

Could this all be a coincidence? Perhaps. But one too many coincidences were hard to ignore.