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Post by England on Mar 26, 2012 21:06:51 GMT -5
England looked in surprise at the top of America's head, somewhat shocked that he'd given in without any more pointless arguing, but smiled and patted his hair fondly nonetheless.
"Thank you." he merely whispered. "I guess I should apologize for making you carry this burden, but..." He bit his lip thoughtfully. He didn't want America to keep living, feeling like he was the one that ultimately brought him down in the end. But he also couldn't imagine facing voluntary death at anybody else's hands.
As Shakespeare had put it so eloquently, "I'll follow you and make heaven out of hell, and I'll die by your hand which I love so well".
It took him a while to realize he'd mumbled his favourite Shakespeare quote out loud, but even then, he couldn't bring himself to care.
"Just promise you'll do it, and the rest will be left to time." he finished with a sad smile, playing with a strand of golden hair that fell over America's shining blue eyes.
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Post by America on Mar 26, 2012 21:22:46 GMT -5
Even if England seemed somewhat grateful at what America had just agreed to, America found himself wishing he could take it back. He never meant to say those words at all. He was just going to leave it at the fact that he couldn't, wouldn't, do it. But, when he heard England's tone, he felt the need to just go along with what the elder had to say, even if he felt like crying his eyes out.
"If you turn into a zombie," he muttered, closing his eyes as he felt England playing with his hair. "I'll do it." He took a deep breath, then felt the need to add, "If. If you do." He needed to cling to his small hope that England would be just fine, that England would stay the way he was. Otherwise, I'm not sure if I would be able to kill him.
He felt one last pressing matter at hand, though. "Did you mean it?" He still didn't look up at England. "Did you mean what you...what you said?" His heart throbbed painfully, the conflicting emotions overwhelming him.
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Post by England on Mar 26, 2012 21:43:09 GMT -5
"What are you talking about?" England raised a brow, stopping his fiddling with America's hair for a moment to look at him. "D-Do you mean the Shakespeare quote?" he cleared his throat, only then remembering he'd actually muttered it out loud. "Haha." he laughed nervously, looking away. "It's from a Midsummer Night's Dream. Helena's sick with love for Demetrius, who won't love her back, and she says that line as she follows him, crawling on her knees." he explained awkwardly, trying to pass it off as a simple comment. "It's a nice quote, isn't it? I wonder where Shakespeare gets all this from. The man had a brilliant imagination, indeed." he trailed off, trying not to make it obvious that he was feeling completely and utterly awkward at the current moment.
And the worst part was... He could find nothing else to say to direct the conversation elsewhere.
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Post by America on Mar 27, 2012 5:59:09 GMT -5
Now America wasn't certain what to say. He could sense England's nervousness, so he wondered if he should just drop the matter. After all, why discuss such a thing when England wasn't feeling well at all? Still...America felt he had to know. Before the situation got worse, before England could no longer say anything to him.
"It is nice," he admitted, turning a fierce color of red. "But, wh-what did you mean by saying it out loud?" The words to me were added on in his mind, but he wasn't about to utter them, not when they were both feeling awkward and nervous. That just might make everything worse. America rubbed at England's hands a bit more, needing something to do while waiting for an answer.
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Post by England on Mar 27, 2012 6:28:44 GMT -5
"I said it out loud?" England gave a nervous laugh, fumbling around with his words. "Ehh... I-I guess I've just been reading too much Shakespeare lately, that man is timeless. And, well, I'm not exactly in the right state of mind right now, either. It just slipped out, you know, harmless quote, and all." he whispered sheepishly, blushing bright.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't harmless. Maybe it wasn't coincidential.
He hadn't gotten to the point where he had to crawl on his knees for America, but... He was ready to follow him until he died. Until he died under the hand of the one he lo-
Another bright blush exploded on England's face as he dispelled his thoughts. Not now, he'd promised. No sense in giving hope to the condemned.
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Post by America on Mar 27, 2012 17:19:49 GMT -5
"Oh." America felt a bit disappointed at this, though he wasn't entirely sure why. It's not as if I had been hoping the quote was spoken specifically to me. That's silly. I should have realized England would just be saying random shit.
Now he felt more than awkward, but he still refused to take his hands away from England. "Okay," he mumbled. "Sorry for, uh...prying." The guilt weighed down on him as he realized he was probably being too demanding. He needed to just let England talk as he please. Upsetting the nation wouldn't do either of them much good at this point.
"So, which play was that quote from?" He asked, hoping to break the nervous tensions.
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Post by England on Mar 27, 2012 21:23:21 GMT -5
"It's from a Midsummer Night's Dream, I already told you, bloody git." England huffed. "Don't you ever listen when I speak?" he grumbled. "Helena said it. She was madly in love with Demetrius, and when Demetrius threatened to kill her if she didn't stop following him, she said that quote." he explained, a spark of his usual self lighting in his words.
He let a silence draw out, his eyes drawn to the way America gently held his hand without having the intention to let go. His gaze wandered to the slow rise and fall of his chest, the soft breaths he took, and the exhausted look in his eyes. And for a moment, England felt a bit bad for having done this to America. He was the one that was tiring the boy beyond his years. If only he hadn't gotten himself in trouble... If only he hadn't been proud enough to think he could handle the zombies on his own... But he did, because he hadn't wanted America on the battlefield. He hadn't wanted to risk a chance at losing him. He just wanted to protect him. If someone had to die, he would be the one to die for him.
Because he didn't think he could survive without America. So if someone had to die, it would be him. America would find the strength to move on, but he didn't think he could. So instead of suffering as he watched America die, he'd done it so that if someone died, it would be him, sparing himself the suffering of watching a loved one die.
And he didn't mind his scheming one bit. After all, England had grown up alone. Selfishness came naturally to him.
"All the things people do for love." he whispered, eyes still locked on America.
And then, it suddenly occurred to him that he didn't know if he was still talking about Helena anymore.
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Post by America on Mar 28, 2012 15:00:10 GMT -5
America gave a small chuckle. "Oh. Sorry, I guess I wasn't really listening." He had been trying to decide whether or not England truly meant what he said, and everything else was lost on him. So what if what's-her-face fell in love with what's-his-name? America knew that Shakespeare liked his drama and silly romances. To him, every single one of Shakespeare's plays sounded the exact same. That quote could have probably been incorporated into any other play and still would have sounded good.
Looking back up again, America felt as if it was too quiet. He wanted to say something, to start a conversation, but he didn't know the best way how. Besides, now he felt embarrassed for believing that ridiculous quote to be about him. Why would England say that? Why would he say how much he loved America? It's stupid to even think about, America told himself, knowing that England was his friend just as much as he was England's friend. Love had nothing to do with anything.
Still, he couldn't help but lose his smile as he thought this. England was going to die. Or, rather, England might die, America had to remind himself. He might die, and yet there were so many things left unsaid. America wanted to spill his feelings out, his confused feelings, those feelings that he had been shoving in the back of his mind for years now. Would he be satisfied just sitting here quietly?
Once England spoke again, America glanced over at him, surprised. Was he still referring to the quote? That must be it. After all, what else could England be talking about? Besides, I don't even...love him. He didn't believe himself, though, not one bit. That was what scared him the most.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice just as quiet. "People will do anything to show their love, won't they?" He stared over at England, struggling with letting his strange feelings of maybe-love be known.
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Post by England on Mar 28, 2012 18:28:31 GMT -5
"Yeah." England shivered at America's lower, somehow huskier voice. "Such a stupid thing." But weren't all the enjoyable things stupid? "People saying they're in love left and right." Love came softly, took years and years to make itself known, hid from sight and only came once. "And pretending they would die for their partners." Liars, or at least, horrible lovers, the lot of them.
If a person really loved another, they would not die for them, they would live for them to make them smile, watch them grow, hold them close, love them whole. They would not be selfish and die, leaving their partners alone.
And that is why England didn't feel honest, knowing he held America so dearly in his heart. As he laid down on the bed, feverish, dying, watching America cry for him, his heartstrings twisted and he found himself hoping his feelings for America weren't what he suspected.
America deserved someone better than him, and someone so much less selfish than him. Someone who would not make him cry, and someone who would not break his heart.
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Post by America on Mar 28, 2012 19:19:48 GMT -5
America felt somewhat ashamed at this. If dying for someone else wasn't a form of love, what was it, then? Why did people give their lives in order to make sure the one they loved was safe? If it wasn't love, according to England, then what was it? America was certain that, should the situation arise, he would give his life for England. Then, would England consider that love or not?
Unsure of what to think anymore, America simply shrugged. His thoughts were jumbled as he sat there, holding on to England's hand. Did this mean that England held no true love for anybody? Sure, the larger country knew that England cared deeply for others and had many friends. But, would he ever grow to love-love one of them under this mindset? Or, was it all fake? America also knew that England usually had trouble with admitting his own feelings. It was just how the island nation was.
Carefully choosing his words, America opened his mouth and, in a voice that was barely audible, whispered, "I would die for you."
He didn't dare look up, intent on keeping his eyes down at the pale hand he was currently stroking. What would England think now? What if he didn't return the feelings? What if- Shit, I shouldn't have said that. He felt like huddling down in a corner from the utter embarrassment he was feeling right now.
However, he wasn't going to leave England's side. He made a promise and, no matter what England's reply was, America was most certainly staying. Because, I think I love him... He blushed deeply, biting his lip and using his free hand to adjust his glasses, an awkward tension rising up within him.
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Post by England on Mar 28, 2012 20:05:29 GMT -5
England stared at him for a bit, shocked into silence by America's simple, yet heavy sentence. His heart thumped loud enough to replace the missing words in his mouth. What... What was he implying?
"Y-You would die for me. R-Really?" he quietly asked, not trusting his voice to go higher. He was sure it would break if he did. "So." he gulped down, a million thoughts running through his head, making it hurt even more. "You wouldn't live for me?"
He chewed on his lip a bit, letting the silence run.
"So. You're telling me you'd die?"
You promised.
"You're telling me you're willing to leave me?"
You said you wouldn't.
"You're telling me you would leave me to mourn your death for the milleniums to come?"
You promised you wouldn't leave me.
"You're telling me you'd leave me alone that easily?"
You told me you wouldn't do that to me ever again. You promised. YOU PROMISED!
"Stupid idiot. Dying for someone else isn't the ultimate sacrifice. It's the ultimate suffering." And that's when he realized that his heart was welling up in his throat, and he couldn't breathe. His vision was blurrier than before- why? His eyelashes felt wet. Oh. No, he couldn't cry, he couldn't. He wouldn't be weak. He would be strong until the end. He would be strong for America.
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Post by America on Mar 28, 2012 20:27:45 GMT -5
America's blue eyes widened in shock as he listened to what England had to say. That didn't have the effect he wanted it to have at all. But, what did he want? A Hollywood-style declaration of love from the two of them? A simple smile?
He suddenly realized he was holding his breath. Letting it out again, he shook his head. "I...I didn't mean..."
If he didn't mean that, though, what did he mean? In the movies, dying was a way to prove love. As it was in the books, especially Shakespeare. Even if England bashed it, stated how awful dying for someone else was, America assumed he was just trying hard not to convey how he truly felt.
He noticed the tears in England's eyes, and his face paled. He was making England cry. All because he was a stupid idiot, as the elder stated, who couldn't ever keep his mouth shut. He felt horrible for what he said. Sure, it wasn't mean or evil- it had pure intentions. Apparently, though, it was completely the wrong thing to say, especially in such a situation as this.
"Please don't be upset!" he exclaimed, leaning forward in concern. I-I didn't mean it. I was, I mean, I just thought that...well, it c-came out wrong, and...I won't leave you, England, it..." He didn't know how to explain himself.
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Post by England on Mar 28, 2012 21:12:03 GMT -5
"S-Stupid, I wasn't upset!" England huffed and looked away, blushing brightly and blinking the tears frantically away. "I was just pointing the facts out! You know, lots of people would be sad if you died, and as base supervisor, you are under my care, so I cannot let you die because then it would be my responsibility that you were foolish enough to get yourself killed in the first place and I wouldn't want to be blamed for your idiocy!"
Left panting for breath, England only then realized that his panicked ranting had done nothing to cover up the subject at hand.
They were left in silence yet again, the awkwardness around them wrapping around England's limbs like a heavy blanket and dragging him down. He felt so limp, so weak, he just wanted to fall... And maybe even be caught by someone that would be able to hold him properly despite his overall weakness. Someone that wouldn't mind his weakness. Someone that would understand.
That someone couldn't possibly be someone like... America... right? England didn't know anymore. The concern he held for America was passing the bounds of platonic relationships. But he didn't want to think any further. Better crush the hope before it even emerged. His heart was already swollen with feelings and sadness and fear and ready to explode. The last thing he needed was to crack it open.
After all, he reminded himself bitterly, one crack in an atom killed hundreds of thousands of Japan's people. He was afraid to learn first-hand what a crack in his heart would produce.
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Post by America on Mar 28, 2012 21:28:56 GMT -5
"Oh." America ran his fingers through his hair, looking around the room. He needed something to do. He wasn't sure whether or not he was able to keep up with England's mood swings. One minute they were all sentimental and upset, and now they were on the verge of arguing once more.
Plus, there was the whole fact lingering that he nearly told of his feelings. He wasn't sure if England was able to catch it in his short sentence, but it didn't matter whether he did or didn't- America still told. That was enough to make him feel overly bashful.
He let go of England's hand and grabbed the towel on the other man's forehead, keeping silent all the while. Why should he speak, anyway? Everything he said just came out wrong. Besides, it'd be useless to continue trying to express how confused he felt, since England didn't seem to return those feelings.
Busying himself with re-wetting the towel, America finally decided to talk. He had to let something be known, even if it wasn't what he truly wanted to say. "You care for me." This wasn't a question, it was a statement. "You care for me, don't deny it. I'm not sure whether it's as brothers or as friends or...or as whatever, but you care for me." He felt his face heat up as he glanced over at England, meeting his eyes with a serious gaze. "Yet, you've been planning on dying. You've told me that it's a fact I must face. You even gave me specific instructions to shoot you if you turn into a zombie."
He was pleased that his voice wasn't wavering. He was calm, confident, determined. He had to be, otherwise England wouldn't listen to what he had to say. Wringing the towel out over the bowl, America took a deep breath and continued. "If what you're saying is that you'd be suffering if I died, how much do you think I'd suffer if you died?"
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Post by England on Mar 28, 2012 21:54:45 GMT -5
England scrutinized him critically for a moment, and then smirked.
"Hah." he let out a short laugh, ringing with bitterness and despair. "Love, I'm the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland." his eyes sparkled with a bittersweet kind of mirth. "I was an empire. I colonized, I killed, I controlled. I destroyed. Nobody has ever cared for me because of that. Do you think I would end up being considerate? Humane?" he laughed again, higher, more desperate. "I'm a monster, America." he breathed, burying his face in his one free hand. "A selfish monster. I put myself before others because that's what I've learned works best. I wouldn't be able to watch you die. So if somebody has to die, it'll be me, so that you can keep living, you can keep smiling, you can rise up to your true potential and become the hero you've always wanted to be." one last smirk graced his exhausted, slightly demented features. "And I... I will be lying in a cold grave, knowing I have fulfilled my goal as the most selfish brother, friend, or whatever it is you want us to be, on this planet."
"I will die so you can survive, make some other, more deserving Nation happy, be happy with that other Nation, and simply breathe and learn and laugh and live."
And his words sounded so painfully funny, so horribly hypocritical, that England couldn't help but laugh bitterly again. And again. And over and over again until he was left coughing and panting for breath, wondering where it all went wrong as he let the tears of self-hate and disgust run down his cheeks.
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