Lamination

What.2

I can't really type the accents, so please use your imagination.

"Des Moines" is pronounced "Deh Moin" with the "oi" functioning like it does in the word "coin".

Chapter 2

"How bad is it?" Alfred asks Iowa as the father-daughter duo, followed by Canada and Mexico, get into the pickup truck Iowa drove here. The meeting was held in Iowa's capital, Des Moines, but her house was quite a ways away, located on a farm in the countryside about half an hour from the city.

"Flor is bleeding in a few places. Her and Tex were over today, just for a social visit." The Midwestern state had finally overcome the panic that had been coursing through her since she saw the blood start to stain her sister's clothing. Events like these were becoming more and more common, but it always sends at least two nearby states into a panic.

"Do we know about any casualties?" Mexico asks. In response, Canada leans forward and messes with the radio dial on the truck's dashboard. Without looking, Iowa slaps his hand away and changes the station to a news station herself.

"Don't touch my baby, Uncle Mattie," she says flippantly as she floors the gas, going at least fifteen miles over the 65 mph speed limit.

"You're almost as bad as Nebraska," Alfred says with a tight laugh.

In The Meeting Room

"What is going on?" Germany asks Japan. The Asian country sighs as he looks to the remaining Nordic countries for help.

"I would like to know that as well," England says, sparking a murmur of agreement through the meeting room.

"'s not our place t' tell," Sweden rumbles. "'s not yer place t' know."

"Hai, let America-san have his privacy," Japan agrees.

"But surely, if it concerns Amérique and Matthieu, Angleterre and I have a right to know, as their parents," France argues, eliciting scoffs from both Iceland and Norway. Rueful smiles tug at Sweden and even Russia's lips.

"If you were truly Amerika's parents, you would already know, da?" Russia speaks up.

"I-well-" France splutters, floundering for a proper answer.

"Children always keep secrets," England states as if it were obvious. "And America is but a child by a nation's standards. He's going through that phase in his life." He's flippant, but the worry is clear on his face.

The countries in on the elusive secrets can hardly stop themselves from laughing. Alfred, a child? He may be young by a nation's standards, but he isn't a child.

"A lot of people seem to know what the secret is" Spain speaks up.

"Ve~ that's right!" Italy realizes. "Sweden, Japan, and Russia defended America!" The Italian points out, causing the other nations to look at him in surprise. Italy may be a coward in wartime and have a playful exterior, but that doesn't mean that he's stupid.

"Ja, Italien is right. Now answer the question, what is going on?" Germany demands, glaring at Sweden.

"Please" England adds softly. "I just want to know if there's a problem with my son." Norway scoffs audibly at this.

"Your son? You weren't even the first country to find him! You left him alone most of the time when he was your colony. You attacked his capital! You only call him 'son' when it will get you what you want!" The normally stoic nation looks upset, which is livid for Norway.

"And you!" The Nordic country whirls on France. "Don't get me started!" The troubled nation sits back down as hurt looks come over the faces of France and England.

"Crisis averted," Iceland whispers to his brother. They had gotten the nation's minds off of Iowa and onto France and England being the crappy parents they were to America, and to an extent Canada. They had treated Matthew much better though.

Besides, Norway would be damned if he would let England call Norway's brother his son. Vinland and New Sweden may not have lasted as long as England's hold on the two North American twins had, but they, along with Juan, still came to visit for holidays and birthdays. Not to mention, America still called the Nordics his family but didn't give that honor to France or England anymore. 

"Seeing as nothing is going to get done, this meeting is adjourned," Germany announces with a sigh. As the nations begin packing up, five countries meet up outside the meeting room.

"We should make sure Prussia is not dead, da? Pennsylvania would not be happy," Russia remarks.

Just as this is said, Prussia comes running by, chased by Hungary and her frying pan, Denmark and his battle ax, and Finland and his pistol. Sweden whistles sharply to get their attention.

"Meeting's done?" Finland asks, holstering his gun.

"Mhm," Sweden confirms.

"We should go check on Alfred and Florida. Iowa seemed very upset," Hungary suggests. The group of now nine agrees.

"So Ivan, where's Iowa's house?" Prussia asks as the nations head out to the garage where their vehicles are parked. Des Moines doesn't have a trolley unlike some cities like New Orleans and the nine aren't willing to risk using the bus after the last time. Rental cars are their safest bet for transportation.

"I would know this, how?" Russia asks.

"Because you've been to all of the state's houses and the Iowan countryside is a bunch of fields that all look the same," Prussia argues.

"Iowa lives half an hour northeast from Des Moines. Take Route 65, past Bondurant." The other nations stare at Sweden in shock. 

"Iowa has a very nice, small, Swedish town that Berwald loves to go to. There was a family reunion there earlier this week celebrating 150 years in America after their ancestor immigrated from Sweden." Finland answers for Sweden.

"That doesn't explain how he knows that," Denmark protests.

"Iowa makes great Janssons Frestelse, Raggmunk, and Värmlandskorv." Sweden defends himself with a shrug.

"Wait, those were hers? I thought those were Delaware's!" Denmark exclaims, practically salivating at the thought of the heavenly potato casserole, potato pancakes, and potato sausage the Nordics had eaten at Christmas this last year.

"You can have your foodgasm later, the awesome me wants to check in on the awesome Florida." Prussia cuts in, reminding everyone that they have somewhere to get to. "Then we can eat the awesome potato food."

Iowa's House

Florida was asleep when Iowa returned with her dad and uncles. Texas has managed to wrap his sister's wounds, but the coastal state was still gaunt and pale.

"God, how many more times will I have to come back to this?" America asks, heartbroken as he runs his fingers through his daughter's dark hair.

"Cali, Tex, Flor. There's been at least eight this year. How much longer am I going to have to see you guys like this?" Alfred whispered the last sentence, tears in his eyes.

"Ma, yer bleedin'" Texas points out the red seeping through America's white dress shirt.

"Yeah, I know" Alfred sighs, paying his injury no mind. Mexico sighs as he heads off in search of another first-aid kit.

New Sweden was located along the Delaware River, but I'm having Iowa have a special love for Swedish food. Totally not based off of my own Swedish heritage and the fact that I live in Iowa... *sweatdrop*

Yes, I did intend for Texas to call America "Ma". Some states call Alfred their "mom". This isn't throwing away Alfred's masculinity, but showing that Alfred has to be both the mom and the dad for the states. He's still a guy, but he has his "mom" moments.