How long had it been since either of them had slept alone? Had they been separate since the first time? Hell, that was only three months ago, wasn't it? Three months and America couldn't even imagine lying back in his own room all alone.
Well, he told himself as he closed his eyes and snuggled against England, there was no point in worrying about it now. He still had twenty years until-
Oh hell, twenty years. They weren't humans where that was almost half a lifetime. America might have to go on forever with nothing but an empty bed and memories. He felt tears pricking at his eyes. He didn't want England to leave, he didn't want to be alone again. If only there was some way to keep him longer, like if somehow when the first baby was fully grown he could force himself into heat and have another. He swallowed. He wouldn't even be able to do it once, much less for centuries on end. But damn, wouldn't it be nice? As soon as one kid could live on its own he'd just pop out another and keep England forever.
But that wasn't fair, was it? He pulled away to look at England's sleeping face. This wasn't his home. He didn't belong here, not really. Maybe to visit, but America knew from experience how hard it was to leave your land for an extended period of time. He had been so homesick when England had taken him to meet the king, how could England stay on the wrong side of the Atlantic for so long? It was selfish to keep him, but nations were meant to be selfish. England had told him time and time again that a nation must first do what most benefits their people and themselves and only once they're taken care of should they worry about others. So it should have been perfectly fine to keep England around for as long as possible, right?
Except… it wasn't like England was the only one who would be taken advantage of. America pressed his hand against his stomach, allowing himself to feel for the first time. If he pushed gently he could feel his womb, already round and firm even if there wasn't any difference in his appearance. All this time he'd been thinking of the baby as nothing but a burden, a mere thing that was going to hold him back and force him to do a whole bunch of things he didn't want to do. Until now he hadn't thought of it as a person. Was it even fair to call it a person when it was so little? Even if it wasn't one now, it would end up as one, wouldn't it?
God, he'd been thinking of just using it as an anchor for England and swapping it out for another when it had outlived its usefulness. By the time it was twenty it would have its own dreams and aspirations and maybe even a family of its own. The thought was mind-boggling to America. He was carrying a person, a real person- and he'd wanted to kill it!
He began sobbing openly into England's shift. All the things he might have lost to his own damn selfishness! He pictured his little baby, all soft and pudgy with big blue eyes and stubby fingers and toes and-
A Year of Surprises [6b/12]
How long had it been since either of them had slept alone? Had they been separate since the first time? Hell, that was only three months ago, wasn't it? Three months and America couldn't even imagine lying back in his own room all alone.
Well, he told himself as he closed his eyes and snuggled against England, there was no point in worrying about it now. He still had twenty years until-
Oh hell, twenty years. They weren't humans where that was almost half a lifetime. America might have to go on forever with nothing but an empty bed and memories. He felt tears pricking at his eyes. He didn't want England to leave, he didn't want to be alone again. If only there was some way to keep him longer, like if somehow when the first baby was fully grown he could force himself into heat and have another. He swallowed. He wouldn't even be able to do it once, much less for centuries on end. But damn, wouldn't it be nice? As soon as one kid could live on its own he'd just pop out another and keep England forever.
But that wasn't fair, was it? He pulled away to look at England's sleeping face. This wasn't his home. He didn't belong here, not really. Maybe to visit, but America knew from experience how hard it was to leave your land for an extended period of time. He had been so homesick when England had taken him to meet the king, how could England stay on the wrong side of the Atlantic for so long? It was selfish to keep him, but nations were meant to be selfish. England had told him time and time again that a nation must first do what most benefits their people and themselves and only once they're taken care of should they worry about others. So it should have been perfectly fine to keep England around for as long as possible, right?
Except… it wasn't like England was the only one who would be taken advantage of. America pressed his hand against his stomach, allowing himself to feel for the first time. If he pushed gently he could feel his womb, already round and firm even if there wasn't any difference in his appearance. All this time he'd been thinking of the baby as nothing but a burden, a mere thing that was going to hold him back and force him to do a whole bunch of things he didn't want to do. Until now he hadn't thought of it as a person. Was it even fair to call it a person when it was so little? Even if it wasn't one now, it would end up as one, wouldn't it?
God, he'd been thinking of just using it as an anchor for England and swapping it out for another when it had outlived its usefulness. By the time it was twenty it would have its own dreams and aspirations and maybe even a family of its own. The thought was mind-boggling to America. He was carrying a person, a real person- and he'd wanted to kill it!
He began sobbing openly into England's shift. All the things he might have lost to his own damn selfishness! He pictured his little baby, all soft and pudgy with big blue eyes and stubby fingers and toes and-