and the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air

[colonial]

Characters: America, France, England, open
Setting: the cafeteria and the library
Format: action
Summary: America finally learns about the Fourth of July
Warnings: tiny colonial baby learning about that whole revolution thing

A; Cafeteria - CLOSED TO FRANCE
[It wasn't unusual for America to wander around the Tower on his own, at least a little bit. More than England knew about, really, but being in the cafeteria was hardly unusual for him. And they had good food again, so America was taking advantage of it. He'd stacked chocolate pancakes high enough they were a hazard to carry around, and he'd been unable to choose between chocolate or strawberry milk and had thus gone with both.

He's in a good mood today! What could go wrong?]


B; library - OPEN
[There were books scattered everywhere, some in piles, some open and abandoned, some left dangling off of chairs--it looked as if a small hurricane had taken place in the library, and given this was the Tower that wasn't impossible. But the real source of all the chaos is sitting on a book shelf he's rapidly clearing out. He's got a dictionary on his left and he's reading something else--but eventually he sighs and tosses it onto the ground.

This explains the state of the library.]

There's nothing here! It's not here at all!

C; England's room - CLOSED TO ENGLAND
[And, after tearing the library apart and finding absolutely nothing that would help as far as intricate details went, America had to return to England's room in the evening exhausted and unhappy. He knows England is sick--he was sick last year around this time, too--and he doesn't really want to bother him, especially with something France basically said was going to make him sad.

Instead he climbs into bed and tucks himself against England's side, trying not to look too downcast. He still looks really unhappy and frustrated, though, in spite of his best efforts.]

Comments

[silencetoreason]

It would be more sad than mad, I think...

[More like "I know," but, details.]

You see... [And he finally turns to look at America, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips.] Nations get birthdays when something big happens. Normally when they... when they get a brand new government. Sort of like "starting over," or at least, that is how the humans think of it.

[He pauses, just to see if America is keeping up.]

[colonial]

[America tries to grasp this concept.] Like if England didn't have kings and queens anymore?

[Though he's not really clear on what England would have instead...]

[silencetoreason]

Yes, like that. If, say, some people were to decide that his king and queen were not doing a very good job, and they decided to replace them with people who were better at it...

[France winces. Unbeknownst to America, this whole concept is hitting a little bit too close to home.]

Well. Whichever day they decided to replace them would be the nation's birthday. More or less.

[colonial]

Oh. [It's going to take America a bit of time to process this, so he eats some more of his pancakes. It's a lot to figure out when you're so little and most nation concepts are still pretty strange to you.] ...I get a birthday in the future?

[silencetoreason]

[France doesn't bother to hold back his sigh now. America's so close to figuring everything out that he might as well make things easier on the both of them.]

Yes, little one. You do.

1/4

[colonial]

[Which is... Today, he thinks. Today in the future. But if he gets a real birthday then that means he had to get a new government, so some people decided that the one he has wasn't doing a good job and put new people there.

But--what's his government? America doesn't think much about that sort of thing. He's never really had to, after all. England takes care of that sort of thing!]

[colonial]

[He's a colony.








England is his government.]

[colonial]

[But then--then--]

done

[colonial]

What year is England from?

[He's never

once

asked...]

[silencetoreason]

[A sickening feeling settles in the pit of France's stomach. The implication hangs heavy in the air: America's never asked what year England is from, and England's never corrected him.

His Adam's apple bobs as he tries to moisten his too-dry mouth.

How many years did England say he was in the Tower for? France is from 2013, so then...]

It's- He's from... 2011.

[His voice sounds very small.

He's not looking at America any more.]

[colonial]

[America counts off on his fingers. He's from 1608, so there's 1708 and 1808 and 1908 and 2008 and then 2009 and 2010 and then 2011.]

Four hundred and three.

[Between him and England. America's from only a year after the founding of Jamestown, and England is from a future where America has a birthday.]

It's, um, a lot of years.

[His mind is choking on the information.]

[silencetoreason]

[France is impressed he managed to work it out so quickly. Unfortunately, it's not a very happy thing to work out. He's not sure what to say, so he just nods and keeps a close eye on America.]

It is.

[colonial]

England never, um. [America's voice falters. The implications are too painful for his human self, but even his nation self is just a colony, and the implications there sting nearly as badly.] He never said he was from a lot later. I thought he was from a little later but not--a lot.

[He never said anything about America's future, really, either. But it would make England sad, France had said so, so maybe that made sense.

But there's something in America that wants to know what happened, regardless.]

[silencetoreason]

I see.

[France isn't sure what to think about that. He understands why England might not want to bring it up, sure, but... for two years? He lead America to believe that he wasn't from over four hundred years in the future for that long? France isn't sure if England did it in America's best interests, or in his own.

He realizes, with a growing feeling of dread, that he'll find out soon enough.]

He- He probably did not want to shock you. [France offers an apologetic smile and goes to lay his hand on America's back.]

[colonial]

[America nods, quick to latch onto whatever made England out to be his idealized guardian.]

...Does a lot of bad stuff happen in my future?

[silencetoreason]

[France is silent for a moment, one that seems to stretch out for a long time. His mouth is dry all over again when he goes to speak.]

There's... There's good and there's bad. That happens in everyone's life. [He finally tries to meet America's gaze again.] But you do a lot of good, mon petit. You always have the best in mind.

[Nowadays, he would never give America compliments like this so freely, but he can't bring himself to be anything less than optimistic while he's looking down at those big, sad, blue eyes.]

[colonial]

[America decides he can believe that, if only because he already wants to do good things now. Even if he's too little to do a lot of things and he's not really a country like everybody else, just a colony.]

Then... Why did I get a new government? [He stumbles over the pronunciation of "government" a little--childishly.]

[silencetoreason]

[Oh boy. Here comes the really hard part.]

Because... You did not think that England had the best in mind.

[colonial]

[That concept--that England is anything less than his perfect hero figure--might be the hardest thing for him to grasp.] Why wouldn't he?

[silencetoreason]

It's- It's very complicated, mon petit, I am not sure we should get into it right now.

[He's still trying to figure out which route will make England less likely to punch him in the stomach until he stops breathing - giving America more information, or less.]

[colonial]

...Okay. [America is used to that sort of answer, though not about this sort of subject. He curls in on himself in his chair.]

Should I not tell England? [He doesn't want to make England sad.]

[silencetoreason]

[France has to think on that for a few moments. It would be so much simpler to say yes, to somehow try to get America to keep going on like everything is normal, but that's more of a selfish desire than anything. He knows it's impossible, especially at America's age. England would notice the difference the second he saw the boy.

He bites back a sigh and rubs his hand in circles over America's back, trying to comfort him and soothe his own racing mind all at once.]

You can tell him if you want. I- I think he would want to know. Just... [And then he gets a little pale, and forces a smile.] Perhaps you could try to keep him from, you know, from being quite so merciless on me for all of this...?

[Yup. Good ol' chickenshit France.]

[colonial]

[America does know how England and France fight, at least. He nods.] I'll say someone else told me.

[Of course, now he has to figure out how to tell England. Maybe if he knew more details it would be easier, but he doesn't think France is going to tell him, since France had said it was complicated and that was always what people said when they weren't going to tell him something.

He swallows more food while he thinks. Maybe the library would have something...?]

[silencetoreason]

Ah! Yes! What a great idea! [There is no way that this could possibly backfire on him.

France sighs and lays a quick kiss on the top of America's head, and the smile on his face turns apologetic.]

Désolé, America. I did not mean to cause so much strife. Try to enjoy the rest of your- uhh- future birthday happily, won't you?