America's POV:
I never heard Spain talk about having sons before. And, if she is my grandma and this Mexico is her son, does this make Mexico my uncle? Now that I think of it, do Mom or Dad even have siblings? If so, I haven't met them.
I sat in the car reflecting on the possibilities about how this first encounter with Mexico might go.
"Does he know about me?" I asked.
"Not yet, but I'm sure you two will become best friends," Spain smiled. I kind of doubted her, but who really knows what could happen.
We finally pulled into the driveway, and I got out of the car. And because I could, I rang the doorbell a couple of times. I didn't actually expect the door to be answered.
"Hola?" A kid about my age, maybe younger, stood at the door. Spain stepped behind me.
"Mexico, how are you?" Spain greeted with a big smile. So this was Mexico.
"Hola Mama, I'm fine. I hope you don't mind, I got in through the back." Mexico said, opening the door wider to let us in.
"It's absolutely fine, Mexi. I just wish you gave me more time to make some cookies for you," Spain smiled. I walk close to her, feeling a little anxious about meeting Mexico.
"Mama, who is that?" Mexico asked, pointing to me. I was expecting Spain to answer for me, but instead, she nudged me forward to answer me. I gathered up my courage and spoke.
"Hello, I'm America, grandson of Spain," I answered with a smile.
"You two have the same smile. It's nice to meet more family," Mexico smiled back, holding out his hand for me to shake. I shook his hand politely.
"Now, you two get along, I will be in the kitchen," Spain called as she left the room. The atmosphere changed as soon as she left.
"Are you sure your name is America?" Mexico asked with narrowed eyes.
"Um, well, sort of. I just prefer the name America," I said.
"Really? What is your actual name?" Mexico questioned.
"Thir-mmmm," I mumbled.
"You need to speak up a little," Mexico rolled his eyes.
"My proper name is Thirteen Colonies," I said, a little clearer.
"Your name is Thirteen? Man, I can see why you use the other name," Mexico jokes. Barely anyone knew my real name and for good reason too, but this Mexico kid seemed alright, I guess.
Not knowing what to do next, we started talking about our favorite things and eventually; I found out Mexico invented tacos and not gonna lie. It might have settled the deal, but something about him seemed annoying. Like not obviously annoying, but very subtly annoying.
"So, do you want to watch tv?" I asked after a few moments of silence. He nodded, and I reached for the remote, but Mexico had grabbed it first and switched the channel. He switched it to a cartoon which I enjoyed for the first half, but got bored and really wanted to change the channel. But Mexico was holding the remote in his hands.
This is what annoyed me.
Australia's POV:
I was terrified as f#ck. Sitting in a locked cupboard, knowing your brother is outside. In the past hour, many, many things happened, and I was having trouble trying to rack my head around it all. Not only did Dad lock me in the cupboard after I tried to help Kiwi, but he also blatantly lied about that picture.
I know that was me. My other dad, Ireland. If you have forgotten, have a picture of me looking exactly like that. But why would dad... you know what, this is getting confusing, Ireland will be Dad 1 and Netherlands will be Dad 2. Okay? Okay.
Why would both Dad 1 and Dad 2 have a picture of me as a baby, unless... I never had a mum and I only had two gay dads! It makes sense now!
Suddenly the cupboard unlocked and Dad 2 opened the doors for me to get out.
"Never help your brother again. He needs to learn to fight for himself and he does not need your help," Dad 2 scolded. I looked around the room for Kiwi, but I had no sign of him.
"What did I say?" Dad 2 grumbled.
"I wasn't doing anything," I defended.
"Good, now keep it that way," He muttered as he walked off.
"I know that's me in the photo," I said.
"Australia, that is not you. I don't know what made you think that,"
"Don't worry, I know your secret," I said. I noticed Dad 2 freeze in his spot.
"You do?" He asked, turning around and facing me.
"Yep, you and Ireland are my real dads and I don't have a mum!" I said proudly.
Dad 2 let out a sigh of relief and then laughed a little. He walked over and kneeled down in front of me.
"Have you ever had 'the talk'?" He asked. Feeling a little confused about what he was talking about, I nodded my head thinking that any talk could have been this 'talk'.
"Then you should know that two men can't make a baby," Dad 2 smiled.
Still confused as to what he was talking about, I nodded again.
"You don't know what I am talking about, do you?" He asked. I nodded once more.
"I thought UK would have had this talk with you already, but I guess it is my job now. Follow me to the kitchen," Dad 2 sighed, standing up and walking towards the kitchen.
I was feeling excited about this, even if I didn't know what was to come. It felt I was going to learn a dark secret.
As I sat down at the table, I listened to what Dad 2 was saying. I learnt pretty quickly that this wasn't a secret.
After 'the talk' I was at a complete loss for words and my theory that Dad 1 and Dad 2 were both my dads was debunked and that really annoyed me. This means I do actually have a mother out there somewhere. Unless she's dead.