'in which you connect the dots'
You groan in annoyance as the door slams shut. You lean back in the office chair and stare up to the ceiling. Squinting your eyes you groan again as you look directly into the overhead fluorescent light.
The room you were in was small. It's only contents were the chair you were seated in and a small round table shoved into the corner. It was an office, presumably, seeing as though you were led through an office building to get to this room. Likely it was an office that an unpaid intern would work in. Or America just specifically have a room for when he needs to lock someone up. You hope it's not the latter, but you wouldn't put it past him.
You glance over to the door. Surprisingly it was ajar. The force must have swung it back open before it latched shut. Sighing, you pull your feet up onto the chair.
You really screwed yourself over with the multiple fragmented stories that you had developed over your time in the past. Maybe rule three to your little time travel guide should involve something along those lines. 'Keep your story straight'. You could only wish you had that option now.
Leaning your face on your knees you breathe deeply through your nose. Rubbing your eyes of forming tears, you tightly grip the fabric of your jacket with your free hand. You wince as the bruise on your arm stings from the pressure. Tears begin falling freely.
To think, all this started because you didn't try hard enough. All because you were being mopey and useless over something you shouldn't have messed up in the first place. You were smarter than that. You had to be.
You had to prove yourself now. You got yourself into this mess. Lack of planning, ditzy thought processes. All of it. It was your fault without a doubt. Inconveniencing Dani through your entire semester, forcing whatever his name was up that cliff, forcing Vivian and Justin to take you in after you appeared essentially on their doorstep. You find a way to make it up to all of them. Even if that means...
You jump from your thoughts. Eyes wide and stinging from the tears that rolled down your cheeks as you stare at the doorframe and at the cursing figure standing within it. Quickly you wipe the tears from your face as you dumbly stare at the brunette sitting on her knees.
"Shit..." She huffs in annoyance, running a hand through the loose upper portion of her hair, resting it above the loose bun that sat at the nape of her neck. Once she reaches her feet is when panic fills your stomach. You make eye contact. She squints at you, before snapping her fingers in recognition.
"You're that little anomaly aren't you...?" She steps into the room, closing the door behind her, "What's your name...? I should know this with how often America mentioned you." She crosses her arms, almost laughing through her last words as if that information isn't incredibly terrifying. She raises an eyebrow at you as you remain silent. Lowering your feet back to the floor you swallow the knot that was building in your throat.
"It's [Name]." Your breath shakes. She nods satisfied, placing a hand on her hip. The small room falls silent for a few moments before the brunette speaks again.
"Oh! Guess I gotta introduce myself now, don't I?" You blink a few times, eyes widening in shock as you register the sudden change in her appearance, "The names Cali. Well, California... But you can just call me Cali." The state flag of California disappears as suddenly as it appeared, returning her appearance back to that of an unassuming office worker.
"What the fuck...?" All caution is thrown to the wind as the comment falls from your mouth. Any fear you had is both eradicated and increased tenfold as you try to figure out what you just saw.
"Wait, wait..." California laughs through her words, "Did you not know?"
"Know what?!" That apparently the states have human forms and... Not human forms?! Why would you know that?!
"That we have two appearances? I just assumed you would have known with Texas and Tennessee on your tail. Texas isn't exactly the most patient guy out there." She explains. You wish you understood. Unfortunately, you are just left with more questions than answers.
"What...?" California goes to explain again but is cut off by the door slamming open into her back. You flinch as she stumbles forward.
With no surprise to you, at the door stood an angry America. He looked even angrier than when he left you the last time if that was even possible. California glares at him as you attempt to shrink into your chair.
"What are you doing in here?"
"You're the one who left the door open." She shakes her head, unimpressed. The loose bun at the nape of her bounced as her head moved, "Maybe if you don't want your secrets found, you take better care to lock the door." America scoffs as she attempts to shove her way out the door. His hand shoots out to the side, preventing her from leaving.
"Both of you, come with me."
"For what?" California snaps. If eye rolls were audible hers would be deafening. You lift a foot back up onto the cushion of the office chair.
"What does it matter?! It's an order!" He snaps back. As he stands in a silent standoff with California, he crosses his arms.
"Well, I'm not going unless you tell me first."
"California..." He sighs, but his threatening tone sticks, "It's about her, for one. She can't exactly sit in an empty storeroom forever." You can't help but scoff at his words. He certainly didn't seem to give a shit about your well-being yesterday, what made him change his mind? Does he think that if he's nice to you you'll tell him how you got to Roling? As if.
"And two?" She prods crossing her arms over her chest, forming creases in the sides of her white blouse.
"General." His simple response gets a scoff from California but the tension in the room falls.
"Fine, fine." She glances back at you for a moment. Your breath hitches.
"Let's go." America moves out of the way of the door, staying in the room. He watches you as California leaves the room. You hesitate to get out of the chair for a moment. Why did you have to go to this meeting?
"Let's go." America states again, annoyance on his tone. You stand up from the chair, staring at America blankly. He gestures his hand to the door, prompting you to leave.
"I don't know where I'm going." He sighs. You stand quietly, shifting your weight onto your right foot. He pinches the bridge of his nose, adjusting his sunglasses, and sighing again, before walking off into the hall. You follow after him.
The halls were empty. The white walls were cast in an orange glow from the setting sun outside the windows. You stare out them as you pass. Not much was happening. Just plants growing, and you couldn't exactly see that.
Walking in silence allows your mind to wander. Just what was California's deal? Even if she did recognize you as the 'little anomaly' as she put it, why would she just go and reveal herself as a state to you? There's no information on them being able to switch from a human form to what you assume is their regular appearance. Why would she assume you knew anything about that anyways? You hadn't met Texas, or Tennessee in your time in Knoxville. You hardly met anyone!... Except...
You stare up at the back of America's head, thinking of what he said to you yesterday. The thing about the states 'taking forever to report anything'. It didn't strike you as anything important yesterday, mostly due to your panic, but as you think about it more, it aligns with the story of a certain someone else's story. Even down to the impatience that California just mentioned. Months of work, and an impatient business partner.
Your stomach fell as America pushes open a door. An all too familiar voice falls out from it. You stop in your tracks outside the door. You really had no chance.
You get an awkward stare from America as he continues to hold the door for you the voices fall quiet. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you enter the room. You glance across the rooms other inhabitants with a flitting gaze. Your gaze falls as your suspicions are confirmed. Lucas was Tennessee.
A loud laugh draws you from your spiralling thoughts. The other state you happened to meet unintentionally while you were still in Knoxville was at the source of it. Your gaze hardens.
"Well... At least that saves us from that conversation..." Texas laughs, jabbing Tennessee in the side with his elbow, "Right Tennessee? Or should I say, Lucas?"
"Shut up!"
"That's enough!" The argument ends as soon as it begins, as America yells at the two states. The others in the room stiffen awkwardly. You recognize a few of them from the small pool in the room. California who you met a few minutes ago, New York, and Maryland. The other four elude you.
"Is this really everyone?" America questions after a few moments of silence. He's met with more silence until New York speaks up with a groan.
"They all got more important things to deal with than some girl. If I wasn't already here there's no way I would have shown up."
"Yeah really." One of the states you didn't recognize stares at you from the corner of his eyes, "How does this take precedence over everything else that we have to deal with right now?" America sighs quietly.
"She can't exactly stay in that storeroom forever. I need to do something with her." California audibly scoffs. She crosses her arms over her stomach, glaring at the country the moment the words start leaving his mouth.
"And you think we have the time to deal with her? As if!"
"I didn't spend how many months babysitting her, just to have to do it some more." You raise an eyebrow at Texas' words. Lucas... No, Tennessee sighs.
"No one asked you to come with me."
"So, you want to look after her then?"
"Of course not!" Ouch? You couldn't help but feel a little hurt at the sudden snappiness of his words. You hardly knew him of course, and to him, interacting with you was simply a business venture. Your hurt is misplaced with him.
"You were the one who wanted her found America." California placed her stark white hands against her equally white shirt, "She should be your responsibility." You love being talked about like you aren't in the room. It is your favourite activity.
The room fills with murmurs of agreement before falling silent. The states all look expectantly at the country. You almost expect him to blow up at them. You had grown accustomed to his bursts of anger through your interactions with him throughout the day, and of course when you first met him yesterday. It was a surprise, although not a pleasant one when America simply sighed.
"Fine. Fine." He glances back over his shoulder, looking at you, "Guess that settles that... Now... I need to..."
"Should she be here for this?" New York jabs a finger toward you. You squint your eyes at him in annoyance. He's said like three things since you walked in the room, and you really don't like him. You suppose he really lives up to his stereotypes.
"I guess not." America raises a hand to his face, sighing quietly. As he walks over to the door behind you, he pushes his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose. He glances out into the hallway for a few moments before walking out.
You stare at the open door awkwardly as you wait for him to come back. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You could essentially feel the stares of the states from behind you. The anxiety building in you made your stomach turn.
When America returns the anxiety partially depletes. You grab at the sleeve of you jacket at you stare at the country. He motions for you to follow him back into the hallway.
"This is who you'll be taking." You hear him say as you step into the hall. Glancing past America you watch a short man with round glasses nod.
"Alright, sir"
"[Name]" America turns to address you, with a sudden seriousness, "He's going to be taking you to my office. I advise you don't leave when you get there."
"Fine..." You sigh, placing your hands into the pocket of your jacket, crumpling a paper you had forgotten was in there, "Not like I have many places to go."
America disappears back into the meeting room with no further words. You turn to the man quietly. He nods at you, turning and walking down the hall. Following him, you fumble with the paper in your pocket.
The walk across the office building was brief, and lead you to a large set of wooden doors. Glasses leaves you alone in front of the doors. You glance up and down the hallway cautiously before pushing the doors open.
Inside reveals a room that was larger than the meeting room you just left. It was almost entirely bare, with a large desk sat at the back side of it, a chair behind that. The desk was scattered with stacks of paper.
You glance over to the large windows at the front of the room. Walking over to them, you gaze out onto the bare lawn. It was dark, the only light being cast on it being the minimal light remaining from the setting sun.
Sitting down on the hardwood floor you lean your head onto the cool glass. With your knees pulled to your chest you finally pull out the paper from your pocket. It was the grocery list. The one you had spent the early morning yesterday forging together. You chuckle dryly. Justin and his salad...
You lower your forehead to your knees. The paper in your hand crumples as your eyes begin to water. Your chest heaves with pain as you try to fight back the forming sobs. You give up quickly.
Gripping onto the side of your head for a moment, your body begins to shake. In attempts to quell it you wrap your arms around your body. Tears roll down your cheeks quickly as your sobs fill the room. You try to wipe your tears with your shaky hands.
Curses fall from your lips, broken up by your heaving sobs. Your grocery list falls from your hand as they continue to shake. How was this fair? Why did you have to get sent here? Why did everything have to go wrong moments after you found some semblance of stability? How was this fair?