“Hey, Arthur, what do you think about having a new care taker?” America asks, his voice cheery and positive, and England places his book on his lap, looking at America. His eyes are not curious though, he looks at America as if he is staring into air, and America notices his hand on the book twitches.
“My brother, Mattie Williams!” America says, ignoring it; he shouldn't point it out, just keep England happy and unafraid. It hurts him inside that the mention of new name sends England back down a spiral of unpleasant memories.
“He's real nice, nicer then I am! Probably cooks better too, I think you'll like him, Arthur!” America explains, cheery, but England doesn't react. America hopes England would say something, but then he doesn't remain expectant. England still doesn't react to much, other then if he's scared. He does some things on his own, but that's only daily actions such as coming for breakfast, because he's probably feeling conditioned to coming down to eat if anything.
“... Okay.” England says only that, and America's lips form a thin line, before he nervously dismisses England back to his book.
It is the next day Canada arrives; “Arthur, this is Matty. Matty... well, yeah.” America introduces them, and Canada instinctively holds his hand out for a handshake (how awkward is this? His former ruling empire is going to shake his hand.) but England takes a step back and stares, afraid, almost wary, and Canada remembers and pulls his hand back to his side.
“Oh, sorry! I forgot. Anyway, it's as Alfred says. I'm Matthew Williams, his brother. It's nice to meet you, Arthur.” This is so silly for him, he thinks. He's known England all his life, and now the man doesn't even remember who he is, let alone his own identity.
Now he's just Arthur Kirkland until he heals up more and America decides to tell him about the nations. “I hope he'll remember before that,” Canada remembers America say.
“There's still a chance he'll remember. China said Russia traumatized him and practically brainwashed him, but he hasn't forgotten. It's still in there.” America tells Canada this the night before, and Canada can't forget America's determined voice, so he recalls that he braced himself for the worst. And... honestly, something in Canada wonders if he braced himself enough, because England is so different.
He is healing, America reminds him on the phone as Canada was coming, and Canada wonders, if this is healing, exactly what was it before? Because England is still covered in bandages, and that is only the part of him which is shrouded by America's clothing.
Even then, he can see purple and black peer out from clothing spots and other parts of England, and Canada, with eerie curiosity, wants to know what happened to England, but he remembers stories of England's hysterical reaction when he's asked about it, and replaces his curiosity with the convincing lie that he'll probably never get over the story he'll be told if England gets around to telling him about it.
“I'll be taking care of you from now on, so I hope we get along,” Canada says nervously, and England is looking down at his feet; “Yes sir.” England mumbles, but Canada barely hears it, and isn't sure whether England was speaking at all, because he sounds so different.
“Well... I dropped my stuff of at the air port this morning, so I should get going now.” America shoots both of them a smile; “Arthur, be good and listen to Mattie, okay? Oh, and hold out your hands,” England does as he's told to, “If Mattie's being lewd though, don't listen to him. Punch him and run into my bedroom and hide.” He drops the keys into England's hands and runs out the door, and Canada follows him out.
“Alfred! I wouldn't do anything lewd to Arthur! Are you out of your mind?!” Canada sighs, exasperated as he listens to America's haughty laughter fade in the distance. He turns and smiles at England; “Sorry. He was just kidding, I won't do anything bad to you.” England still looks afraid though. Canada frowns at this. Now he knows why America sounds so miserable the night before, when they talked on the phone.
Hold Me Close [13/?]
“My brother, Mattie Williams!” America says, ignoring it; he shouldn't point it out, just keep England happy and unafraid. It hurts him inside that the mention of new name sends England back down a spiral of unpleasant memories.
“He's real nice, nicer then I am! Probably cooks better too, I think you'll like him, Arthur!” America explains, cheery, but England doesn't react. America hopes England would say something, but then he doesn't remain expectant. England still doesn't react to much, other then if he's scared. He does some things on his own, but that's only daily actions such as coming for breakfast, because he's probably feeling conditioned to coming down to eat if anything.
“... Okay.” England says only that, and America's lips form a thin line, before he nervously dismisses England back to his book.
It is the next day Canada arrives; “Arthur, this is Matty. Matty... well, yeah.” America introduces them, and Canada instinctively holds his hand out for a handshake (how awkward is this? His former ruling empire is going to shake his hand.) but England takes a step back and stares, afraid, almost wary, and Canada remembers and pulls his hand back to his side.
“Oh, sorry! I forgot. Anyway, it's as Alfred says. I'm Matthew Williams, his brother. It's nice to meet you, Arthur.” This is so silly for him, he thinks. He's known England all his life, and now the man doesn't even remember who he is, let alone his own identity.
Now he's just Arthur Kirkland until he heals up more and America decides to tell him about the nations. “I hope he'll remember before that,” Canada remembers America say.
“There's still a chance he'll remember. China said Russia traumatized him and practically brainwashed him, but he hasn't forgotten. It's still in there.” America tells Canada this the night before, and Canada can't forget America's determined voice, so he recalls that he braced himself for the worst. And... honestly, something in Canada wonders if he braced himself enough, because England is so different.
He is healing, America reminds him on the phone as Canada was coming, and Canada wonders, if this is healing, exactly what was it before? Because England is still covered in bandages, and that is only the part of him which is shrouded by America's clothing.
Even then, he can see purple and black peer out from clothing spots and other parts of England, and Canada, with eerie curiosity, wants to know what happened to England, but he remembers stories of England's hysterical reaction when he's asked about it, and replaces his curiosity with the convincing lie that he'll probably never get over the story he'll be told if England gets around to telling him about it.
“I'll be taking care of you from now on, so I hope we get along,” Canada says nervously, and England is looking down at his feet; “Yes sir.” England mumbles, but Canada barely hears it, and isn't sure whether England was speaking at all, because he sounds so different.
“Well... I dropped my stuff of at the air port this morning, so I should get going now.” America shoots both of them a smile; “Arthur, be good and listen to Mattie, okay? Oh, and hold out your hands,” England does as he's told to, “If Mattie's being lewd though, don't listen to him. Punch him and run into my bedroom and hide.” He drops the keys into England's hands and runs out the door, and Canada follows him out.
“Alfred! I wouldn't do anything lewd to Arthur! Are you out of your mind?!” Canada sighs, exasperated as he listens to America's haughty laughter fade in the distance. He turns and smiles at England; “Sorry. He was just kidding, I won't do anything bad to you.” England still looks afraid though. Canada frowns at this. Now he knows why America sounds so miserable the night before, when they talked on the phone.