“Yeah, but you’re the only one who actually came,” America grumbled, feeling rather childish, even as he took yet another swig of his drink, wishing not for the first time that he could just pass out and be done with it, give into the sweet nothingness of sleep.
“But not the only one who wanted to,” Canada pointed out. “Trust me on that.”
“Yeah? Well why didn’t they?” America snapped, suddenly feeling angry. “If they cared so much, why couldn’t they have done the right thing? They know good and well that I’d’ve done the same thing for them if it happened to any of them! Why couldn’t they have just done it for me?!”
“Sit down,” Canada said quietly, and America realized belatedly that he was standing.
“Sorry,” America muttered, sliding back into his chair.
“They didn’t come because they were asked not to,” Canada said patiently, once it appeared that America was no longer likely to stand up and start flipping tables. “Your boss,” he explained. “Your boss… made some pretty dumb decisions, I’m not going to lie. Asking you to act like a trained monkey, letting you stay by yourself after you’d already started to snap, then still keeping you pretty much alone, with only one person… yeah, pretty dumb. But he thought he was doing the right thing.”
“He could’ve asked me what I wanted,” America said, but he didn’t have much enthusiasm at all, and suddenly the table looked rather comfortable, like a wooden pillow. He laid his head down on it, breaths starting to deepen.
“You always sleep when you’re upset, don’t you?” Canada said with a sigh.
“’M not asleep,” America mumbled, but he couldn’t deny that he was tired, and probably unable to lift his head, though that might have partially been because of the alcohol. “Just… restin’.”
“Mm-hmm.” Canada smiled, then gently lifted the glasses from America’s face, further worsening his vision, already blurred from his less-than-sober state. “You gonna remember any of this tomorrow?”
America chuckled. “Don’ think I could forget. But you won’t get this outta me then, y’know.”
“Anything else you want to say, that you won’t say tomorrow?” Canada asked with a small smile.
“Yup,” America said around a yawn. “Wish they’d… Ngh, wish they’d actually act like they were all older’n me. They have such big talk nowadays but I remember when it didn’t matter that I was only here for a couple’a years. When I wasn’t yelled at for bein’ immature, ‘cause they still sorta seemed to like me. Or maybe they just hated me less.” He frowned, blinking his eyes closed for a second longer than he had last time. “I dunno. But… I-I really wish they’d stop hating me. An’ stop makin’ fun of me for bein’ a kid, sort of. ‘M supposed to make mistakes, right?”
Canada gave him a long look, then frowned. “…Right. How about you sleep it off, eh? You’re gonna have a nasty hangover in the morning, but you look tired…”
America smiled. “Yeah. I’mma sleep on th’ couch, okay?”
“Alright, but don’t get any vomit on it when you wake up, ‘kay?” Canada asked with a teasing grin that he hadn’t gotten to use since who-knew-when. However, seeing that America was making no move to the couch, he couldn’t help but step in. “Hey, you gonna actually move there or what?”
“’M tired…”
Canada sighed, then looped one of America’s arms over his shoulder, easing him up from the chair and over to the couch, ignoring the grumbled protests. “Sleep well, alright?”
But America was already gone, sleep claiming him without a second’s notice, and without a notice of the frown that followed him into sleep. Canada let his heart break only when he was sure his twin wouldn’t wake up, and only when he’d already fastened a blanket up to the American nation’s shoulders.
Tomorrow morning, he’d smile and be polite and proper, even as his brother-nation hurled into waste-baskets and he nursed a hangover of his own. But tonight, he’d let himself think things over for a while, forcing himself not to forget the night’s conversation, and making a note not to let it happen again.
It was a while before he fell asleep, but just before he did, he could almost hear a laugh, but it still didn’t live up to the boisterous laughter from before.
Insecurities and Depression 2e/2
“But not the only one who wanted to,” Canada pointed out. “Trust me on that.”
“Yeah? Well why didn’t they?” America snapped, suddenly feeling angry. “If they cared so much, why couldn’t they have done the right thing? They know good and well that I’d’ve done the same thing for them if it happened to any of them! Why couldn’t they have just done it for me?!”
“Sit down,” Canada said quietly, and America realized belatedly that he was standing.
“Sorry,” America muttered, sliding back into his chair.
“They didn’t come because they were asked not to,” Canada said patiently, once it appeared that America was no longer likely to stand up and start flipping tables. “Your boss,” he explained. “Your boss… made some pretty dumb decisions, I’m not going to lie. Asking you to act like a trained monkey, letting you stay by yourself after you’d already started to snap, then still keeping you pretty much alone, with only one person… yeah, pretty dumb. But he thought he was doing the right thing.”
“He could’ve asked me what I wanted,” America said, but he didn’t have much enthusiasm at all, and suddenly the table looked rather comfortable, like a wooden pillow. He laid his head down on it, breaths starting to deepen.
“You always sleep when you’re upset, don’t you?” Canada said with a sigh.
“’M not asleep,” America mumbled, but he couldn’t deny that he was tired, and probably unable to lift his head, though that might have partially been because of the alcohol. “Just… restin’.”
“Mm-hmm.” Canada smiled, then gently lifted the glasses from America’s face, further worsening his vision, already blurred from his less-than-sober state. “You gonna remember any of this tomorrow?”
America chuckled. “Don’ think I could forget. But you won’t get this outta me then, y’know.”
“Anything else you want to say, that you won’t say tomorrow?” Canada asked with a small smile.
“Yup,” America said around a yawn. “Wish they’d… Ngh, wish they’d actually act like they were all older’n me. They have such big talk nowadays but I remember when it didn’t matter that I was only here for a couple’a years. When I wasn’t yelled at for bein’ immature, ‘cause they still sorta seemed to like me. Or maybe they just hated me less.” He frowned, blinking his eyes closed for a second longer than he had last time. “I dunno. But… I-I really wish they’d stop hating me. An’ stop makin’ fun of me for bein’ a kid, sort of. ‘M supposed to make mistakes, right?”
Canada gave him a long look, then frowned. “…Right. How about you sleep it off, eh? You’re gonna have a nasty hangover in the morning, but you look tired…”
America smiled. “Yeah. I’mma sleep on th’ couch, okay?”
“Alright, but don’t get any vomit on it when you wake up, ‘kay?” Canada asked with a teasing grin that he hadn’t gotten to use since who-knew-when. However, seeing that America was making no move to the couch, he couldn’t help but step in. “Hey, you gonna actually move there or what?”
“’M tired…”
Canada sighed, then looped one of America’s arms over his shoulder, easing him up from the chair and over to the couch, ignoring the grumbled protests. “Sleep well, alright?”
But America was already gone, sleep claiming him without a second’s notice, and without a notice of the frown that followed him into sleep.
Canada let his heart break only when he was sure his twin wouldn’t wake up, and only when he’d already fastened a blanket up to the American nation’s shoulders.
Tomorrow morning, he’d smile and be polite and proper, even as his brother-nation hurled into waste-baskets and he nursed a hangover of his own. But tonight, he’d let himself think things over for a while, forcing himself not to forget the night’s conversation, and making a note not to let it happen again.
It was a while before he fell asleep, but just before he did, he could almost hear a laugh, but it still didn’t live up to the boisterous laughter from before.
He’d fix things as soon as he could.
---
End