Family Ties [Part 68]
Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Quebec, Russia, America, Ukraine, England, Wales, Germany.
Rating: 12
Warnings: Crazy!America, Crazy!Russia, military talk.
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
Quebec didn't want to go back there. He'd said two hours, but it'd been nearly a week and America just kept coming back to do more and more, leaving with an unsettlingly satisfied smile every time. Was this what being a real Nation was like? Quebec wasn't feeling so confident anymore. In fact, he was more than a little nervous when he came to push Russia's food through the slot on his door. It's not that he was scared of Russia, hell no. It would be a cold day in hell when he was scared of that bastard. Nah, America was more frightening. Who would believe it, though? America was sincere in every smile he made.
Even the ones that contained more teeth than a smile should.
Opening the hatch and kneeling down to push the food in, the northern Nation could hear them talking.
"... so do you know what I'll do to your sister?"
"I'm sure you're going to tell me, America. We've been playing this game a while now."
A laugh. "You say that like you don't enjoy it." A hissing sound, like a hot iron pressed against flesh. Russia made a muffled sound. "First, I'm going to turn all her fields into a nuclear wasteland. Next, I'm going to take all her people, and pick out the loyalist spies. The innocent can move elsewhere, and change nationality. They can even come live with me, since I'm so nice and all. I got space. And then, then I'm going to make it like Ukraine never even existed. Like how Belarus doesn't exist anymore."
"Like how Canada doesn't exist anymore?" Russia's reply was snapped, angered, which alone surprised Quebec. America was pushing his buttons on purpose. A smack resounded.
"You're great when you're angry, but shut the fuck up." the tone was sweet. The sound of a key in a lock, scratching metal, and then falling chains on to the floor. "You wanna fight me? Fight me then, come on. You know you want to. I know you want to."
A short silence, and the metal chair scraped back. "We're so much more alike than you know, America." murmured Russia, sounding pleased, in that disturbing way of his.
Zut, these two were nuts. And Quebec was so out of here, before they could find him out.
It was on his way back that he paused next to another door. Glancing down the hall to make sure America was busy, Quebec let himself in, peering around the door frame. Ukraine was sitting in a corner, crying, her arm broken and in a sling, cradled against herself as she curled up. This curling up was of course hampered by her... large tracts of land, but the effect was enough to make Quebec rethink his original plan of taunting her.
".. oi, I 'ave your food." he announced, setting it down on the chair she'd been provided. With no natural light and no clock in here, meal times were all she probably had to tell the time with. "Stop crying already and eat."
She peered up at him, stared, and then went back to refreshed sobs.
"Mon dieu, will you stop it!" he shouted. He didn't want to see her crying, it made her seem less like the monster that had killed his brother. "Just eat the food already. You've not been eating any of the stuff we give you so I'll stand here and watch you until you do!"
Ukraine sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she mumbled. "You... you look a l-lot like him."
"Oh, and that makes you uncomfortable? Well too bad for you!" he snapped. "Maybe you shouldn't have killed him then!"
This made her break down again. "No! No, I never meant to kill him! No..."
Quebec felt something heavy in his stomach. Guilt? No, she was the guilty one, why should he care. And he didn't care. Even if he could feel like someone was giving him a disapproving and reproachful look. Nobody was here but them. He'd never forgive her.
No matter how cute she looked when she cried.
An annoyed noise sounded in the back of his throat, and he stormed from the room. However, upon reaching the door, he nearly ran head first into America.
"Ah, sorry Quebec. I'm just here to borrow Ukraine a while." He sounded so cheerful. Quebec edged around him.
"Yeah, uh, all yours. Au revoir!"
Maybe it wasn't guilt. After all, pity was something you could give to enemies.
----
England rubbed at his eyes, yawning as the plane came in to land in Berlin. Wales, next to him, stretched until his back cracked satisfyingly. Military planes were hardly the most comfortable place for a nap, but they'd come here nearly straight away, without stop. Wales could feel his left leg starting to fall asleep, so they'd landed just in time. Unstrapping from their seats, they rose and exited the plane, to be greeted by Germany, looking very tired indeed.
"Guten Tag, England, Wales." he said, giving them a brief salute, which they returned. "The convoy leaves for Poland tomorrow, so you can give your men a break in my city tonight."
"That's very thoughtful of you, Germany." replied England. "They've been working hard to reclaim Scotland, a lot of them could use a break."
Wales looked around. "Where's Prussia? Doesn't he usually follow you around?" Their breath made puffs of steam in the cold winter air.
Germany sighed wearily. "He's been up to something, and I don't have the time nor the patience to find out what it is. Either way he's claimed nearly half the house for the sake of it. I've been traveling with my men so it's not as though I need the space right now..."
Rolling his eyes, England hefted his pack higher onto his shoulders and began walking out of the airport, Germany leading and Wales following. "God only knows what he's gone and gotten involved in now. Probably better we didn't know anyway. How's it going keeping control of Europe?"
"It's tough, everyone's worried about being invaded. Soldiers from France have made several attempts on Belgium, Holland, Spain and myself." he shot England a look. "But strangely, not on you."
"They're having problems in the channel, I believe." a small smirk worked it's way onto the shorter Nation's face. He loved naval strategy. "Though France's ships seem to be flimsy as cardboard anyway. I've had intelligence suggesting rebels. It'd be very like him."
Germany frowned. "Very. Other than France, I feel I should inform you that Portugal's gone under deep cover with Greece to help convince the Middle East to pull out. There's been no word back, because of the security issues, but also no recent moves from the Middle East unless directed by Russia himself."
"Well, good." Wales said, watching England worry internally for a second. His brother was terribly predictable like this. "That's one less problem. How about the occupied Eastern Bloc?"
"They're calling it that again, are they?" the taller blonde said, then shook his head. "We're managing to penetrate defenses in V-form maneuvers, but some of our men have had the back enclosed behind them and been trapped before. It's a matter of patience and will to keep going."
"I see," the two brothers said in unison, sharing a look. England cleared his throat and continued. "So, we're taking the route through Poland to Lithuania, joining with Austria, Hungary and Ireland, then the majority of forces will enter Russia, with aerial back up."
"That is correct."
"Wonderful." England clasped his hands together, smirking. "Let's hope we can end this for Christmas."
Note:
- Russia and America have an interesting effect on each other; they each make the other's worst qualities come out. It's almost sweet. /twisted
- Oho, Germany remembers la Resistance.
Part 69
Characters (in this chapter): Quebec, Russia, America, Ukraine, England, Wales, Germany.
Rating: 12
Warnings: Crazy!America, Crazy!Russia, military talk.
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
Quebec didn't want to go back there. He'd said two hours, but it'd been nearly a week and America just kept coming back to do more and more, leaving with an unsettlingly satisfied smile every time. Was this what being a real Nation was like? Quebec wasn't feeling so confident anymore. In fact, he was more than a little nervous when he came to push Russia's food through the slot on his door. It's not that he was scared of Russia, hell no. It would be a cold day in hell when he was scared of that bastard. Nah, America was more frightening. Who would believe it, though? America was sincere in every smile he made.
Even the ones that contained more teeth than a smile should.
Opening the hatch and kneeling down to push the food in, the northern Nation could hear them talking.
"... so do you know what I'll do to your sister?"
"I'm sure you're going to tell me, America. We've been playing this game a while now."
A laugh. "You say that like you don't enjoy it." A hissing sound, like a hot iron pressed against flesh. Russia made a muffled sound. "First, I'm going to turn all her fields into a nuclear wasteland. Next, I'm going to take all her people, and pick out the loyalist spies. The innocent can move elsewhere, and change nationality. They can even come live with me, since I'm so nice and all. I got space. And then, then I'm going to make it like Ukraine never even existed. Like how Belarus doesn't exist anymore."
"Like how Canada doesn't exist anymore?" Russia's reply was snapped, angered, which alone surprised Quebec. America was pushing his buttons on purpose. A smack resounded.
"You're great when you're angry, but shut the fuck up." the tone was sweet. The sound of a key in a lock, scratching metal, and then falling chains on to the floor. "You wanna fight me? Fight me then, come on. You know you want to. I know you want to."
A short silence, and the metal chair scraped back. "We're so much more alike than you know, America." murmured Russia, sounding pleased, in that disturbing way of his.
Zut, these two were nuts. And Quebec was so out of here, before they could find him out.
It was on his way back that he paused next to another door. Glancing down the hall to make sure America was busy, Quebec let himself in, peering around the door frame. Ukraine was sitting in a corner, crying, her arm broken and in a sling, cradled against herself as she curled up. This curling up was of course hampered by her... large tracts of land, but the effect was enough to make Quebec rethink his original plan of taunting her.
".. oi, I 'ave your food." he announced, setting it down on the chair she'd been provided. With no natural light and no clock in here, meal times were all she probably had to tell the time with. "Stop crying already and eat."
She peered up at him, stared, and then went back to refreshed sobs.
"Mon dieu, will you stop it!" he shouted. He didn't want to see her crying, it made her seem less like the monster that had killed his brother. "Just eat the food already. You've not been eating any of the stuff we give you so I'll stand here and watch you until you do!"
Ukraine sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she mumbled. "You... you look a l-lot like him."
"Oh, and that makes you uncomfortable? Well too bad for you!" he snapped. "Maybe you shouldn't have killed him then!"
This made her break down again. "No! No, I never meant to kill him! No..."
Quebec felt something heavy in his stomach. Guilt? No, she was the guilty one, why should he care. And he didn't care. Even if he could feel like someone was giving him a disapproving and reproachful look. Nobody was here but them. He'd never forgive her.
No matter how cute she looked when she cried.
An annoyed noise sounded in the back of his throat, and he stormed from the room. However, upon reaching the door, he nearly ran head first into America.
"Ah, sorry Quebec. I'm just here to borrow Ukraine a while." He sounded so cheerful. Quebec edged around him.
"Yeah, uh, all yours. Au revoir!"
Maybe it wasn't guilt. After all, pity was something you could give to enemies.
----
England rubbed at his eyes, yawning as the plane came in to land in Berlin. Wales, next to him, stretched until his back cracked satisfyingly. Military planes were hardly the most comfortable place for a nap, but they'd come here nearly straight away, without stop. Wales could feel his left leg starting to fall asleep, so they'd landed just in time. Unstrapping from their seats, they rose and exited the plane, to be greeted by Germany, looking very tired indeed.
"Guten Tag, England, Wales." he said, giving them a brief salute, which they returned. "The convoy leaves for Poland tomorrow, so you can give your men a break in my city tonight."
"That's very thoughtful of you, Germany." replied England. "They've been working hard to reclaim Scotland, a lot of them could use a break."
Wales looked around. "Where's Prussia? Doesn't he usually follow you around?" Their breath made puffs of steam in the cold winter air.
Germany sighed wearily. "He's been up to something, and I don't have the time nor the patience to find out what it is. Either way he's claimed nearly half the house for the sake of it. I've been traveling with my men so it's not as though I need the space right now..."
Rolling his eyes, England hefted his pack higher onto his shoulders and began walking out of the airport, Germany leading and Wales following. "God only knows what he's gone and gotten involved in now. Probably better we didn't know anyway. How's it going keeping control of Europe?"
"It's tough, everyone's worried about being invaded. Soldiers from France have made several attempts on Belgium, Holland, Spain and myself." he shot England a look. "But strangely, not on you."
"They're having problems in the channel, I believe." a small smirk worked it's way onto the shorter Nation's face. He loved naval strategy. "Though France's ships seem to be flimsy as cardboard anyway. I've had intelligence suggesting rebels. It'd be very like him."
Germany frowned. "Very. Other than France, I feel I should inform you that Portugal's gone under deep cover with Greece to help convince the Middle East to pull out. There's been no word back, because of the security issues, but also no recent moves from the Middle East unless directed by Russia himself."
"Well, good." Wales said, watching England worry internally for a second. His brother was terribly predictable like this. "That's one less problem. How about the occupied Eastern Bloc?"
"They're calling it that again, are they?" the taller blonde said, then shook his head. "We're managing to penetrate defenses in V-form maneuvers, but some of our men have had the back enclosed behind them and been trapped before. It's a matter of patience and will to keep going."
"I see," the two brothers said in unison, sharing a look. England cleared his throat and continued. "So, we're taking the route through Poland to Lithuania, joining with Austria, Hungary and Ireland, then the majority of forces will enter Russia, with aerial back up."
"That is correct."
"Wonderful." England clasped his hands together, smirking. "Let's hope we can end this for Christmas."
Note:
- Russia and America have an interesting effect on each other; they each make the other's worst qualities come out. It's almost sweet. /twisted
- Oho, Germany remembers la Resistance.
Part 69