Se Rappeler

He always remembered…

November, 1608

Crossing his arms to shield himself from the bitter cold, Francis shivered and let out a puff of air in annoyance. "Merde, out of all times to send me here, why'd it have to be in the wintertime? I bet Rosbif is having a nice time down in the south."

He'd been there several times already with small exploration groups in which many of the travellers had perished due to the unforgiving land. But finally, with his group of 27 men, they decided to form a little settlement which would hopefully, one day, become a city. 'Quebec' was its name, and were now, his men were settling in the best they could, having set up their shelter and hearths to avoid the bitter cold. He hoped that they'd survive the harsh conditions unlike the men who were at Tadoussac less than a decade ago. Internally he could feel their discontentment and curiosity echoing his own.

"Monsieur Bonnefoy, why don't you come inside?" One of the men called to him from the warmth of little hut.

He shook his head, "ça va, I think I'll explore a little before it gets dark again."

The sun set at an ungodly hour every day, and all he could hope was that summer wouldn't be the same.

Grabbing his knife and a lantern, he headed for the forest, marking the trees as he went in fear of getting lost and never being able to return to his beloved homeland. Step by step, he walked further into Nouveau France. Inwardly, he had to admit that he was a little excited, being the first person to have walked this far into the forest. Eventually, he was greeted by the sight of a small creek. Thirsty, he walked over and took a drink. He raised his brows approvingly, "This water's delicious…"

Satisfied, he continued on his way up the creek until he hit the water source which turned out to be a waterfall. A bit to the side, he also noticed a cave. Realizing that it was probably a bad idea to venture into the grotto, he was ready to turn back but something about it compelled his feet to continue onwards. Being young and adventurous, he didn't particularly mind and continued listening to the demands of his instincts. Besides, he had a lantern with him, so at the first signs of trouble, he could easily turn tail and run back to the safety of his camp.

Deep inside, he could hear something breathing, though by the sounds of it, it wasn't very large…

Confident that he could take on whatever creature was lurking in the dark, he continued onwards. It wasn't until awhile later that he finally hit a dead end and found the source of the breathing though he had to admit, the sight before him was entirely unexpected.

There was a child curled up with a bear cub, both sleeping away peacefully.

Alarmed, Francis immediately checked to ensure that the child was alright. Then, satisfied that the boy was merely asleep, he picked him up gently to avoid waking the bear. Unfortunately, after a few attempts to dislodge the child's hold around the white bear, he realized that it was futile. But because it was against his morals to leave a child alone in a cave in the middle of winter, he had no choice but to carry both the little creatures back to camp.

It wasn't until noon the next day that the heat from the fire roused the two from their hibernation. Sitting up sleepily, the child gave a jump when he realized that he was in an unfamiliar area. Quickly hugging his bear, he curled up and continued studying his surroundings closely, too alarmed to move from the bed.

He watched from outside as the child and his bear exchanged confused looks. Much to his surprise, the child didn't cry or get upset, he merely sat there patiently while his eyes wandered around the hut. Finally, he made his way in with a warm bowl of stew in his hands.

The boy gave another jolt and stared at him.

With a smile, he greeted the other, "Bonjour, mon cher…"

He almost fell in love with the sight of the boy staring at him with those large curious eyes…but he managed to stop himself in time.

August, 1642

He sat down on the shores of Nouveau France, heaving a sigh. There were finally a few hundred people living in his colony. Despite all the hardships and constantly having them rubbed in his face by one very haughty England, there was still one thing he gained from all this.

"Papa, papa, papa," a little blond came running to him out of nowhere, his bear in his arms as always, "B-bonjour!"

At this, his heart fluttered a little and he had to smile. Even if he couldn't have Italy or America, at least he had the child before him to dote on. "Bonjour, et comment ça va, mon petit ?"

"Ton petit est bon," was the happy reply.

"Oh?" He picked the boy up, "that's good to hear. I haven't seen you for awhile, where on earth did you run off to?"

Mathieu; that was what he named him since he was strongly opposed to 'Little Bear' and anything of the like, answered hastily, "Sorry, I was playing with the other people that live in the forest! A-and yesterday, I was with Monsieur Chomedey de Maisonneuve at Ville…Ville…Ville-Marie!" The boy was never good with names… "H-he said that it'd become as beautiful as papa's Paris!"

Raising a brow, he got up with a laugh, "Is that so? Let's go take a look at it, shall we? Just tell papa where to go."

After awhile, they were standing a small fort in the middle of a vast expanse of land. The blonde tilted his head upwards to look at him, "Do you like it, papa?"

There really wasn't much, at least not yet. He smiled, "It's very beautiful, isn't it? I'm sure it'll flourish into a wonderful city one day, just like Paris."

They stayed there that night with Mathieu sitting next to him, muttering softly to his bear. Curiously, he glanced over and asked, "Now what are you telling your little bear?"

The child smiled, "I'm teaching him how to count, b-but I can only count up to ten. I bet papa's really good at counting, oui?"

"Hm? I suppose I am. I can count past 100 and I don't use my fingers if that's what you mean."

Violet eyes widened, "Really? W-will you count to us?"

Amused, he sat the child in his lap, "and what shall I count?"

The blond stilled for a moment in thought, "O-oh, papa can count all the animals! Like raccoons, deer, beavers and bears!"

"Bien…un ours, deux castors, trois cerfs…"

By the time he reached twenty moose, the child had fallen asleep in his arms.

On their way back from the fort, the boy began asking questions, "What does papa do?"

He blinked, "What do you mean?"

"When I asked, everyone gave me a different answer! They said you were a noble, a sailor and a soldier!"

Francis pursed his lips momentarily, wondering how he was supposed to go about explaining what exactly it was that he never forgot. "Well…they're all right. How do I say this? I'm the country France, but I'm also Francis. And while France is technically just a landmass, I represent everything. I'm like France stuffed into a person, like how I have Paris in my heart and Gorges du Tarn here," he grinned, brushing his stubble against the child's cheek, eliciting giggles of delight. "And that is why, mon cher, I am everything. I'm a noble, I'm a peasant, I'm a soldier, I'm a radical, anything French, I am. It's alright if you don't, you'll understand one day."

"So will I be like you one day?"

He placed a kiss on the boy's head, "Perhaps. Perhaps you'll grow up into a big and strong country someday. Then you'll be just like me. You'll carry your land's history and all your people in your heart all the time. That's what makes us countries."

"B-but papa's not just a country! Papa's special," the child colony added.

Blinking, he asked, "and what do you mean?"

The boy beamed brightly, "Papa's Mathieu's papa!"

The Frenchman paused before laughing with a nod, "That's right. Papa's Mathieu's papa."

At that moment, he almost fell in love with the little colony…but then he remembered.

May, 1744

Fighting in the War of the Austrian Succession wasn't exactly his first choice in pastimes but at least he was on the same side as both his friends-not that they ever took wars personally. Time had taught them to know better than to do that.

His boss had just decided to give up trying to invade the Southern Netherlands. He found it strange how fickle history was; a century ago, he was allied with the Dutchman and now they were at war. And sparing a glance over at Antonio, the brunet seemed more relaxed as they went over the new battle plans, just slightly though. "This must be hard on you…"

The Spaniard cocked his head to the side, "sorry, what was that?"

"No, it's nothing. Mon ami, you look tired. Maybe you should turn in for the night?"

Letting out another yawn Spain frowned, "I'd like to. But no matter how much I try, I can't seem to sleep. Everyone's nervous and thinking about tomorrow's battle, you know?"

He raised a brow, wondering if that was actually the case. Either way, it kept the other occupied enough for his hands to wander undetected. "Gilbert seems fine and he's doing the charge."

"Yeah, but I don't think he actually cares whether he's fine or not."

Francis couldn't help but nod in agreement, he'd noticed it too. Often times, he wondered about the constantly changing country and his irrational yet militarily genius ways. There was always something off about that Gilbert…he shook those thoughts out of his head. "That's true. But that's not the case with you! Hurry up and get yourself to bed and rest!"

"Easier said than done," Antonio muttered wearily, "I wish I could. I really do."

The Frenchman heaved a sigh, "Come on, we can't have a tired Spain on the battlefield, think of your troops! If you really can't sleep, I'll come count you to sleep or something."

Green eyes lit up, "Really? You'd do that? You'd count to me? Great! I'll be waiting in my tent! You promised, Francis!"

He blinked, "Wait…what?"

Finally making his way to the Spaniard's tent, he sat down next to the bed, "Are you asleep?"

"Nope, still can't do it. I tried, but nothing! But you're here to count to me, right? I'll definitely fall asleep that way!"

He shrugged with a soft laugh, "Well, we won't know until we try…alright, close your eyes." Looking around, he wondered what kind of animals there were in the area, "un lapin…deux oiseaux…" Antonio glanced over at him curiously. "Oui ?"

The young man rolled onto his side, "shouldn't you be counting sheep?"

"Moutons?"

"Sí, ovejas. Did you use to count other things?"

The Frenchman nodded, "Animals…they worked just as well. But if you prefer, I suppose I'll count you sheep instead."

Antonio smiled. "Gracias, Francis."

"De rien. Now close your eyes."

But the other country didn't.

"You know, I really should try this with Lovi, since I'm his boss and all. Just listening to you talk about counting's helping me relax! Lovi would definitely calm down if I counted to him-or even better! We could invite Feli over for the night, and then I could count to the both of them! It'd definitely be a paradise at my place! I'm definitely going to tell Lovi about this! Francis? Is something wrong? You look strange. And why's your hand under the covers? Is it cold?"

Shaking his head, he smiled softly and retracted his wandering limb, "'Strange'? I should hope you didn't mean it in an offensive way. I just had a sense of déjà vu, that's all. I remember when it used to be 'Lars, Lars, Lars'…" then he realized what he'd said and covered his mouth, "Sorry, I said too much."

The Spaniard was lying still now, "No…it's alright…It's history, it's in our memories. There's no denying it…hey Francis?"

"Oui?"

"Do you ever forget that you're a country? Have you ever forgotten anything, ever?"

He shook his head again, "I'm afraid I haven't."

Antonio sighed, "I thought so…"

"Why? Have you forgotten things before?"

"No, but I think I'd like to. Sometimes I wonder if I can convince myself to forget certain memories, you know?"

Blue eyes blinked at the suggestion, "But that'd be like erasing your identity…personally, I prefer remembering…never mind that though, it's getting late. You need your sleep. Close your eyes and I'll start counting."

Counting nothing but sheep, he found it a little less interesting than trying to name all the animals that inhabited the New World…but at least it still worked.

February, 1763

Francis took a deep breath and mentally went over everything he was going to say as the ship neared the dock. Once the boat anchored, he stood there with his head feeling as heavy as his heart. "Come on, get a move on, you git."

Regaining his composure, he waved a hand and commented airily, "Calme-toi, rosbif. Y'a pas de feu."

He received a rather vulgar reply at that.

Though he knew as a country how true the expression 'nothing lasts forever' was, though it was something he was reminded of on a daily basis, he was still found himself reluctant to face reality. People, kings, and colonies came and went like seasons. No matter how many decades or even centuries passed by; they'd eventually leave or be taken away. Just like how Lars fought against Antonio, going so far as to leave his own sister. Just like how Berwald broke away from Mathias' house and more or less eloped with Tino.

Just like how he'd lost Jeanne and all his old kings. And just like how he was losing his colony now.

It was all simply part of the vicious cycle of history. Things simply came and went.

Despite knowing all that, a selfish part of him hoped that the child wouldn't be there just so that he wouldn't have to break the news to the boy. From behind, the Englishman gave him a shove, "I haven't got all day! I promised Alfred I'd go visit him soon! You bloody frog, it's not like this is the first time you've lost territory!"

That was true. But nevertheless, he felt his irritation spike up as he huffed, "How brutish of you, as expected of a delinquent. This situation's rather delicate if you must know."

Just then, much to his dread, a small child came scurrying over happily, "Papa, papa, papa! Vous êtes revenu !"

From the corner of his eye, he could see the other staring at him in shock and mouthing the word 'papa' questioningly. And under normal circumstances, he probably would've flaunted the fact that he was 'papa' to this colony whereas the Englishman was merely 'Arthur' to his, but not today. From behind, he could hear Arthur's voice, "France, don't tell me you haven't told him about this-"

"Of course I haven't," his scoffed, not bothering to turn around, "How could I have? When did I have the time to, hm?"

Crouching down, he caught the boy as he dove into an embrace. "Papa, ça va ? You're hurt!"

He didn't know how to answer.

"I'm just fine, mon cher…actually, papa has someone he'd like to introduce you to." Standing up with the child in his arms, he turned to this companion, "meet Arthur Kirkland. He used to be your papa's little brother, you know? Quite a rebellious one at that. He tried growing his hair long once, but he doesn't have nice soft hair like you or me so he ended up looking like a rabbit."

Mathieu giggled at the anecdote, "c'est vrai ? Comme un lapin ?"

"Oui, juste comme un lapin."

Arthur tapped his foot impatiently, "Come on, speak English, you stupid wine-bastard!"

The Frenchman tsk'ed. "Such language in front of a child…if you must know, Mathieu doesn't speak anglais."

The other blond turned his head in exasperation, "Great, so I have to teach this one from scratch?"

The boy frowned worriedly, "Papa? Are you upset? Is Monsieur Lapin upset?"

He smiled reassuringly, "No, papa's not upset, just a little sad."

"Why's papa sad?"

"Because from now on, that rosbif-I mean, Arthur, is in charge of taking care of you, so make sure you behave, d'accord? Papa won't be able to visit you very often anymore."

The child's eyes widened and instantly began watering. "But why? I like papa! I-I'm sorry, is it because of me? Is it too cold for papa? …I promise I'll ask the people from outside to leave the towns alone, please don't leave."

The only response he could give to that was a shake of his head, "I'm afraid it's a complicated country thing. There isn't anything we can do about it. Perhaps one day you'll understand. Be good, alright? Say goodbye to papa."

The colony kept his eyes trained downwards. "Au revoir, papa…I promise I'll be good, so please come visit me just once in awhile if you can…"

Placing a kiss on the blonde's head before passing him off to the Englishman, he smiled weakly, "I'll try, mon cher. Au revoir."

He watched as Mathieu immediately curled up in the other's arms and cried quietly to himself. At least he knew the boy was in good hands. After all, Arthur always did have a soft spot for children and younger colonies…

The man sighed and soothed the child's hair back as he began walking away, disappearing from sight, "Oh, what soft hair you have. Come on now, lad, there's no need to cry. You'll see that frog again. It seems hard now, but after awhile, you'll come to realize that this world really isn't all that big. But I suppose you've been through a lot today, so I should probably let you rest up, him? Tomorrow, I'll start teaching you English. And once you've got that down, I'll take you to visit your brother, alright? His name's Alfred, he lives a little to the South. I'm sure he'll be happy to finally have company…"

Perhaps it was because he always remembered that he was able to avoid getting hurt…but only to an extent.

March, 1776

He raised a brow coolly as the young man in front of him continued ranting. After what felt like days, the youth finally concluded, "So are you going to help or not?"

There he was, witnessing yet another act for independence. Who was he to say no? He stopped walking and turned around, "Yes, yes, since you somehow managed for find me all the way out here, you have your big brother's blessings," and just as Alfred opened his mouth to protest, he added, "and I suppose I can send you supplies if you need me to. I don't believe I have enough reasons to formally support you…but before that, I have one thing to ask."

Alfred raised a brow. "What is it?"

"I noticed you didn't mention the participators of this war."

"Isn't it obvious? It's me against Ar-England."

Francis frowned, "And anyone else?"

"A couple tribes?"

"And?"

"And no one else, really!" He continued watching the boy until the other cracked, "Fine! I mean I might've tried to get Mattie to join me but he refused, okay? And he's on the loyalist side but I doubt Arthur will let him actually fight in the war. He's still too young! Besides, he…he still needs Arthur. He isn't ready to stand on his own yet… Besides, he's too…Mattie's just too peace-loving to do something like fight in a war if that's what you're worried about!"

That wasn't exactly what he was anxious about. He was more troubled by the idea of coming across his former colony and trying to explain why they were on opposing sides and why he'd never visited.

The girl found him later with a large, freshly caught fish in her arms, "Who was that?"

Turning to his newer colony, he shook his head, "Nothing much, ma chère, just a boy going through a rebellious phase. Now, let's see what you caught this time. What kind of dish shall I whip up this time?"

The brunette smiled excitedly, "doesn't matter! Everything Francis makes is delicious!"

All he could think of was how this colony would eventually leave him as well…

He let a smile grace his lips, "Merci beaucoup, Sesel. I'll see what I can do."

"Yeah, Francis' cooking! I love Francis' cooking," she cheered happily. "I'll go catch you another fish to cook!"

It was strange how she always called him 'Francis'…but never 'papa'…

August, 1867

There was a brief time of peace. After the Austro-Prussian war, Gilbert suddenly began showing up with a little blonde who had a striking resemblance to the Holy Roman Empire. When asked, the man merely grinned and announced rather proudly: "This is my awesome little brother, Ludwig! Get used to the idea of bowing down to him, alright?"

And all the blond did was give a nod before introducing himself with a surprisingly proper tone, "Hello, Bruder's friends, my name is Ludwig, pleased to make your acquaintances."

He exchanged glances with Antonio, "Mon ami…your little brother's…the exact opposite of you."

Gilbert raised a brow, "What are you talking about? We're equal in awesome-ness! How's that an opposite? Come on Fran, you used to be smarter than this!"

That particular day, they'd decided to spend a day fooling around with a camera. Francis smiled, "Since this device originated from moi, and I'm the only one who actually knows how to work this, I suppose I'll be taking the photos?"

"Wait, why's the perverted French jerk taking pictures? He's going to take pictures of weird things!"

"Because Francis is good at taking pictures, you know?"

"That camera looks like fun doesn't it, Lui? Let's get one when we get home!"

"Bruder…please stop bringing strange things home."

Looking through the lens and seeing that everyone had little nations in their arms except him made him unexpectedly melancholic… he ignored the brief pang of sadness in favour of concentrating on his task at hand.

After developing the photographs, he began sorting through them. Though much to Gilbert's dismay, none of his turned out, "Why am I blurry in all of them?"

Francis shrugged and replied without looking away from the photos, "I suppose it's because you kept fidgeting."

The Prussian let out a loud whine, "What? It's not my fault! I was just too awesome for that stupid contraption, that's all! But I wanted at least one good one!"

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to remember this!"

At this, he raised a brow, "What are you talking about, Gilbert? We can't forget."

The other merely sighed, "I know, but still…time's fleeting, you know? Even though the issue of time isn't entirely applicable to us, it's still fleeting."

Unsure of how to answer, he continued sorting, "Perhaps I'll find a proper picture of you somewhere…"

And he did, but since Gilbert's sulky face amused him, he went to hand it over to Ludwig privately. The boy looked over, "Bruder's sulking somewhere. He said it's your camera's fault."

"Is that so? I rather like seeing him like this. It's cute," he laughed and winked. "So is Gilbert taking proper care of you? You can always come live with me, you know. I'm the big brother of the world after all, another little brother's always welcomed."

Ludwig nodded, "Thank you for the offer, but it's fine. Bruder takes excellent care of me. He's been teaching me everything I need to know about being a country and wars. He even said that I'd be able to go see the battlefront with him next time."

A little taken aback, he tilted his head so the side, "At so young an age?"

"Bruder says I'll have to know this eventually and that time has a way of sneaking up on a people. And I'd like to be prepared for whatever may come. He's already taught me all of his strategies on paper, but I haven't been able to observe them in action yet."

"Are you really younger than Lovino…? Does Gilbert do anything that's actually age-appropriate?"

The boy shot him a blank look, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

He laughed weakly, "I mean, does he do anything brother-like? Does he count you animals? Does he go exploring with you?"

"Oh…well…Bruder tells me stories about his past…he never tells the same story twice so I have to listen really closely and I never fall asleep until he finishes! But then…"

Noting the boy's sullen expression, he asked, "But then?"

Ludwig blinked, "You're Bruder's friend. There's nothing wrong with him, right? Whenever he tells me stories, he kind of sits there in a daze afterwards. But then he always laughs it off."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much. Gilbert's always been kind of a strange country. But I take it you like him?"

The other nodded. "I like Bruder very much."

"But what about when you gain your independence? Gilbert's probably told you about that stuff, right?"

Another nod. "Ja, I don't care much for independence right now. I like being with Bruder. And if the day comes, I hope I won't have to fight him. The idea of being separate countries doesn't bother me…as long as we still get to see each other from time to time."

"I promise I'll be good, so please come visit me just once in awhile if you can…"

He shook the memory from his thoughts and handed the photo over, "Well, you better cherish your memories with him then, non? This will help, you can go show Gilbert if you'd like. I'm sure it'll cheer him up."

The boy accepted it happily. Unlike the Holy Roman Empire, this boy smiled a little more. "Danke."

Then Lovino walked by and looked over, "Your jerk-brother looks weird!"

Ludwig furled his brows and protested against the teen's comment, "Hey, don't make fun of Bruder!"

The Frenchman laughed as the children bickered, idly wondering how the little boy he found in the cave would've fared with the other two. "As long as you get see each other from time to time, hm…?" He played with the idea of paying his ex-colony a visit…but he never went through with it.

April, 1983

At their ninth G7 meeting, he sat to the side, watching the Arthur mistake Canada for America. Idly, he thought about Gilbert's words almost a decade again and understood a little better now. When he saw his former colony during the First World War, the colony-no, the

country had already grown and he couldn't help but wonder what kind of life the boy led without him. He wondered is the child ever missed him.

Finally getting up, he walked over and interrupted, "That's clearly Mathieu, you idiot."

Arthur merely huffed, "W-what are you talking about, you wine bastard? Of course I knew it was Matthew!"

The Frenchman scoffed, "Of course you did. How could you ever mistake him for Alfred? Just look at that silky French hair!"

"Oi, what exactly are you trying to imply about my hair, you bloody frog?"

"Exactly what do you think I'm implying! I still remember that time you grew your hair and you looked…"

"C'est vrai ? Comme un lapin?"

"Oui, juste comme un lapin."

The young man looked over at the two of them and spoke in the same quiet tone he'd always had, "um-"

Then quite expectedly, Alfred jumped in, "Artie, there you are! I'm going to go check up on our rockets, they're better than Ivan's, you know? Want to come see? I mean, you're already here so you might as well take a look at how awesome it is so you won't even try to compete with me!"

The Englishman frowned. "What was that, lad?"

"Nothing! Oh, hey Mattie, were you here all along?"

The blond pursed his lips, "I sat next to you throughout the entire meeting, Al!"

The American merely laughed and patted his brother on the back a little too hard, "Were you really? I didn't notice you at all! Well whatever, you can come help me! I'll even treat you to McDonalds later!"

"B-but," getting dragged away, Mathieu turned back to him ruefully, "Sorry, Francis. It was nice talking to you again…"

Waving goodbye wordlessly, he wondered why he ever left the boy with a country that couldn't tell him apart from his neighbour and a brother that ignored him whenever there were others around.

He hadn't expected his first conversation with the younger country to sadden him. It wasn't really the boy's fault they hadn't talked in centuries and it was only natural that he'd grow out of calling him 'papa'…but he still missed it.

June, 2000

He smiled to himself as he took a calming sip of wine from his glass. It was Father's Day and he was watching his people take their fathers out to eat. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Raising a brow, he turned away from the street view and opened the door to reveal a flustered Canadian standing there. "I'm so sorry! I meant to come earlier but by the time I woke up, it was already noon!"

Francis blinked, "What are you talking about? We don't have a meeting today or anything. And you were there last week…weren't you?"

The younger man's face reddened slightly, "Th-that's not it! I came here for…"

"For?"

A little gift box was handed over to him, "Happy Father's Day! I'm sorry, I know you probably received a lot of gifts already. But here's something anyways. It's only maple syrup, but I couldn't think of anything else since you already have everything you need here and besides, maple syrup's delicious, don't you think?"

"I agree, but why are you-" Then it clicked, "Mathieu…"

"I realize that you've had a lot of colonies in the past and I understand that as countries, these things just happen, independence, wars, negotiations…I almost lost Quebec once. You can't really ever forget that you're a country, eh?"

He shook his head, "No, you can't…why don't you come inside? I'm surprised you're not with Rosbif today."

Making his way into the house, the young man smiled and mentioned almost offhandedly, "Oh, Al took Arthur out for McDonalds or something. You know how possessive he can get. He didn't want to share Father's Day. Besides, I was your colony before Arthur's, right? …I really did think of you as my 'papa' and to me, you'll always be 'papa' before you are 'France'…I'm sure you hear this a lot."

His eyes widened slightly, "No. Not really, I don't ever hear that…I was only ever Mathieu's papa after all."

The Canadian stared at him incredulously, "Seriously?"

Francis nodded, "Oui, I'm not exactly sure why I did it, I mean, I knew the moment I found you that you'd leave one day…it's just how history works. But I suppose it's quite a lonely thing, being a country. The very fact that we can't forget that nothing's permanent holds us back from connecting with other wholeheartedly…but if we ever did forget, it'd mean our time's coming to an end. Imagine that, the country of love not being able to truly love anything." He sighed, "What a troublesome existence. But I did though, you know?"

"Did what?"

"I did want to see the New World with you. You were the child I found in that cave. I taught you everything you knew before that ex-delinquent came along. I counted animals to you. I read you stories… I really wanted to see you grow up. Ah, you were so just cute as a child! It's not fair that Antonio and Gilbert got to keep theirs! Ah, I'm getting irritated now and it's all that Rosbif's fault!"

Mathieu frowned, "Francis…"

He shook his head firmly, "Non, it's Father's Day, so you have to call me papa!"

"I'm sorry," was the immediate reaction. "Papa, you know you can still see the New World. It's not exactly new anymore but I can still give you a tour since you only come when there's a meeting then you leave right after it finishes. Ville-Marie's still there, it's called Montreal now, but it's still the place that Monsieur Chomedey de Maisonneuve found. It's just like you said, papa! It flourished and became a wonderful city so…if you have time, please visit me…"

"I think I'll take you up on that offer, perhaps this summer, I'll come visit your home. But for now, since you're a guest at my house, mon cher, I must insist that you stay for dinner."

"B-but-"

"No buts! You can return the favour when I come visit, alright?"

The Canadian sighed in mock-exasperation, "Fine…as long as you keep your promise, papa."

At this, he couldn't help but smile. "Bien sûr, mon petit."

He still wasn't sure if he could love the younger country as a human father could…but he'd give it a try, he was Mathieu's 'papa' after all…

"Fu-wan-sis?"

"No, not quite, it's Fran-cis."

"…Fu-wan-sis."

"Hm…I suppose it's kind of hard to pronounce…"

"Désolé…"

"Well, you picked that word up quickly! Cheer up, mon cher, it's not that big of a deal. If can't pronounce it, we'll just find something else for you to call me until your French improves, d'accord ? How about…"

"Papa!"

"Hm? Papa? …it's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Oui!"

"How could I ever say no to you? Bien, from now on, I'll be papa!"

Nya~

First of all, that you to rultas for beta-reading this! Yay, my first beta-reader! Second, I'm sorry I can't seem to write decent summaries! I spent an hour mulling over it to come up with...well, what you read. And third, I'm sorry I can't seem to write short one-shots! But here's the first out of the three one-shots I'm planning (before I launch back into my mission of making people bawl their eyes out)! I absolutely love how ff dot net decided to go and screw up all my formatting...again. I'm not sure what else to say about this. Oh, has anyone noticed how amazing France is at counting? It's the only one I actually fell asleep to while listening. The next one out's going to be about Spain! Hm...lots of history here...I think I mentioned what each one was in the fic...it was G7 until 1997 when Russia joined. And going through lists of wars that happened throughout...basically from the 1400s to the 1900s, there's been tons and tons! Thank you for reading, and love you lots, reviewers! Enjoy!

Translations:

Ours - Bears
Castors - Racoons
Cerfs - Deer
Oiseaux - Birds
Calme-toi - Calm down
Y'a pas de feu - There's no fire
Vous êtes revenu - You're back/you've returned
Juste comme un lapin - Just like a rabbit