Countryhumans Oneshots

Americanized

Based on NewJerseySHlol's Headcanons for Oklahoma. These aren't mine, but I loved them so much I just had to write a oneshot for him on them. The headcanon is, in his words:

"Basically, Oklahoma was given to the Native tribes that were forced out of their homes in the trail of tears when he was a baby, and the tribes were told he was theirs to keep. While they were suffering substantially and certainly not happy, they tried to raise him the best they could, though it was a struggle. America infrequently checked on who he called 'Indian Territory', but eventually he started to become set on claiming his lands for himself. So naturally, America took Oklahoma away from them and basically re-raised him to be more American. Nowadays, Oklahoma is nearly unrecognizable to the tribes that'd raised him"

Also please check him out. He is amazing.

Summer, 1900

"I miss Oklahoma," Choctaw said as he walked with his fellow "civilized tribes" through Fort Gibson. They had agreed to meet here to discuss the dwindling contact from Oklahoma. They were worried and had just spoken for an hour, pouring over his letters to see if there was any cause for concern.

But they found nothing. And that was more worrying than something.

"So do I. I'm worried. What if America did something to him or banned him from talking to us? You've heard about what they have been doing in those schools. What if the same things are happening to our son?" Chickasaw said, worry clear on her face.

"America sees him as his son, even though he abandoned him," Cherokee said, as Creek patted her shoulder comfortingly, "and I don't think he would do that."

"But like you said, he abandoned Oklahoma. What if he did?" Seminole pointed out.

"Seminole. ᎰᏩᏧ. You aren't helping anyone's worry." Cherokee said. Seminole groaned.

"Cherokee, we can't trust America! When has he ever given us a reason to? He forced us off our lands; he took our son to 'raise him properly.' I don't trust him with Okie's safety, and you shouldn't either." Seminole argued, making an excellent point that they probably all realized they were too nervous to voice.

"I know Sem-I-is that Okie?" Cherokee said, cutting off her statement and pointing further down the street. Choctaw looked to where she was pointing and nodded.

"That is him," Chickasaw said, relief in her voice.

"OKLAHOMA! Hę̄r's cē!" Creek yelled as they began rushing over. Choctaw saw Oklahoma's head briefly turn to face them before turning away again and continuing down the street.

"Oklahoma, wait!" Choctaw said as a wide grin began to spread across his face. He put his hand on Oklahoma's shoulder, and Oklahoma knocked it aside. Choctaw's face changed to one of shock and confusion.

"Okie?" Seminole asked. Oklahoma turned to face them, and the first thing Choctaw noticed was how blank his face was. Oklahoma kept it neutral and expressionless. His eyes seemed distant and conflicted before they settled on resolute determination.

"What do you want?" He asked, his voice empty. His accent had changed, too. It sounded like a perfect American accent. It sounded like America's.

Creek gave a small disbelieving laugh, "Okie, I know we haven't seen you in almost a decade, but you don't have to be so formal. We're your family, after all!"

"No, you aren't. I am not related to any Indians. My only family is Father and the other states." Oklahoma said in the same blank tone. Choctaw felt as if someone had stabbed a knife in his heart.

What had America done to him?

"ᎨᏍᏗ ᏱᎪᎵᎢᎦ." Cherokee said.

"I do not speak Indian," Oklahoma said, looking at Cherokee. The knife in Choctaw's heart twisted.

"That's Cherokee, not Indian. Okie, you know that language. Cherokee taught you," Choctaw said.

"I only know English and French. I don't know any Indian tongues." Oklahoma said. Choctaw felt sick. America had done something to their son. He warped him into a copy of himself, a copy of the same people who had put Oklahoma through so much strife.

"Yes, you do. We raised you with our languages, and we taught you them," Seminole pleaded. Oklahoma barely spared him a glance.

"You did not raise me. Father told me about how you kidnapped me to use against him and raised me to be an Indian so that I would fight against him. Luckily, Father was able to save me and helped me realize what you did. So stop calling me nicknames. Those are reserved for family only." Oklahoma said.

"But you are our son!" Choctaw insisted. Oklahoma's neutral expression broke and changed to one of fury.

"I am not the son of savages." He said. The knife buried itself deeper and deeper and kept twisting all the while.

He was so different now. What happened to Choctaw's Okie, the one who would sit on his knee and ask for stories? The one who barely spoke any English after living with them for so long. The one who showed so much emotion in everything he did.

"Iki, iki!" Choctaw remembers Oklahoma, who was seven years old, saying as he approached Choctaw once, long ago, his hands clasped tightly around something.

"What is it, iso nakni?" Choctaw had asked. Oklahoma had smiled, showing his missing front tooth, and proudly stuck his hands out.

"I caught a frog! Look at it, Iki!" He babbled, gasping as the frog jumped out of his dirty hands. Tears had welled up in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Iki!" He had cried. "I lost the frog."

Choctaw had smiled warmly at him. "There will be other frogs. But if this one means so much to you, I will help you catch it again. How does that sound, Okie?"

Oklahoma said yes. Oklahoma was Choctaw's son and his family.

But Oklahoma...he...

"What did America do to you?" Cherokee asked angrily. The blank expression returned.

"He simply taught me who I was supposed to be," Oklahoma said.

"But this isn't who you are! What did America do to make you this way? Did he hurt you?" Chickasaw asked.

"Father helped me so much. I will forever be in his debt. He helped me become an American, who I am supposed to be. Now, I have no reasons to talk to a group of Indians outside of politics, so unless you have something of that nature to discuss, I'll be on my way." Oklahoma said. They were silent, the shock rendering them speechless.

Oklahoma nodded, turned around, and began walking back down the road.

He didn't even say goodbye.

Choctaw fell to his knees and began sobbing. America had stolen his son and turned him into a stranger. Choctaw shouldn't have let America take him. But he did. And now Oklahoma was gone.

His son was gone.