Author's Note: I feel as though Canada isn't noted nearly enough for his influence in America's life. So here's the start of a little series featuring the North American brothers. :) Enjoy.

Arthur had thought that by now, he would have been better at this whole child rearing ordeal. He'd figured he'd wake up one morning to another day that was waiting to be lived on this grand planet, and poof, like magic, he'd be an expert at taking care of children. No more worrying about whether or not he was raising his little brothers correctly, teaching them at a fast enough pace, feeding them the maximum amount of nutritious food, or whether they were getting enough sleep. He would be Superbrother, fighting upset stomachs, nightmares and diaper rashes like a professional, clad with the luscious spoils of knowledge and experience to guide him through his tasks.

Yet, apparently, the delicate skill of parenting could not be mastered in such a menial way. He quickly learned that no matter how many parenting manuals he read, or how many lessons he had shoved down his throat, he would still worry about making mistakes, and those mistakes were inevitable in the path he was taking. And, rather than things getting easier as he went along, they just grew more difficult. New challenges would present themselves each day, and the problem solving puzzles that made themselves apparent grew more advanced as time ticked away.

And there were always new lessons waiting to be learned.

Canada was pretty peeved to say in the least.

It took a lot to get the sweet, sheepish colony severely upset with someone, but somehow his twin brother had managed to do it without too much effort on his part at all. Anger bubbled inside his veins in a way he hadn't thought to be physically possible before as he watched America rocking happily in the backyard tree, Kumajirou hanging precariously from the American's hand. His bulky paw was entangled in the boy's fingers while the rest of his body was slung over a tree branch, threatening to take a tumble at any given moment, should his captor relinquish his hold.

"This isn't funny, America! Let Kuma go or I'm telling England!" Canada tried his best to shout, voice rising to levels that were uncharacteristically firm and strong. His eyes bore into his brother's, silently challenging him to defy his command. "You aren't even supposed to be climbing trees after that time you almost fell down," he said matter-of-factly.

"How do you know about that?" America frowned, eyes accusing.

"England told me," Canada huffed, crossing his arms and continuing to glower up the tree trunk.

"No fair! He wasn't supposed to tell you that!" America blushed, eyes growing hard. Truth be told, he had been extremely disobedient as of late for the sake of gaining attention from his eldest brother. England's time with him had been limited from the start due to his busy work schedule. Thus, it was completely unfair in America's eye that the man was now investing his time in Canada as well. He was far superior to the new colony, and their little group of two had been perfect before the addition. Surely, England cared for him more seeing as they'd been together longer. Nonetheless, America felt the need to make Canada's life a living hell as of late, and one way he had decided to achieve that goal was to steal Kumajirou while Canada's back was turned.

"I'm going to get England now," Canada sang threateningly from the base of the tree, taking a few steps backward to emphasize his point. He hid his hands behind his back and began wringing his fingers madly, uncomfortable with the loss of his cuddly companion. A day without Kumajirou was like a day without oxygen; impossible to survive.

Unwilling to give in so easily, America decided that he had to bring things up a notch. Obviously Canada was bluffing, and he wouldn't fall for that trick. "Fine, go ahead! See if I care! You're just a big baby for carrying this stupid stuffed bear around everywhere! What kind of nine year old takes his toy with him everywhere?"

That had stung Canada straight in the heart, his eyes shimmered for a moment, the formation of tears beginning to take place, but he quickly brushed the feeling away. He wouldn't be bullied by America this time. He was going to be assertive, and that meant he had to win this argument by standing his ground. He could be just as crude as his brother if he put his mind to it.

"Oh, yeah? At least I don't still believe in the Tooth Fairy!" Canada spat. "You were the one who cried last week when England forgot to put money under your pillow in exchange for your tooth."

America flushed, face growing as red as his favorite, scarlet-colored crayon. "NO!" he immediately denied. "England said the Tooth Fairy is real! She just was too busy to make it to all the kids who lost their teeth. You're just a liar!"

"And you call me the baby. What about Santa Clause? Santa isn't real either!" Canada went on, trying to be as venomous as possible.

America's eyes widened to the size of saucers. He gaped at his brother, mouth falling open comically. "S-Santa? Santa is real and always has been! Where do all the Christmas presents come from then, huh?" he asked pointedly, hoping to prove Canada wrong through his supposed 'flawless' logic.

Canada smiled deviously, knowing he could use this weakness to his advantage. "England buys the presents and puts them under the tree when we're asleep. Santa is not real."

A shrill shriek broke through the air at that comment, stomping all over England's golden rule of using 'indoor voices' whenever possible. "IS TOO! I put out a plate of cookies for him and everything!"

"Nope," Canada calmly replied, "England ate the cookies."

America seemed utterly affronted, shoulders shaking with suppressed rage. "I helped him bake those cookies; they were chocolate chip and everything! He wouldn't do that!"

"Would too."

"Would not!"

Canada grumbled under his breath, still anxiously waiting for his opportunity to rescue Kumajirou. He'd have to use cunning tactics and skilled strategy to get his companion back unharmed. It seemed like he was going to have to speed up the argument to make this easier. "And remember that time when England told you that your pet bunny ran away while you were at your friend's house? He lied because he didn't want you to be upset if he told you that he died."

"WHISKERS DIED?" America gasped, struggling to process his twin brother's words as he tried to catch his breath. In his frustration, he reeled his arm back before tossing Kumajirou as far away as he could, sending him hurtling through the air.

Frantically, Canada chased after the bear, making a dive toward the ground before successfully catching the beloved stuffed animal that had been bestowed upon him a long time ago. With a relieved sigh, he brushed himself off and stood up with Kumajirou at hand, checking him over for any damaged appendages. After giving the bear a full examination, the Canadian discovered that the right paw that America had been clinging to was torn at the seams.

He spun around on his heel and rounded on his brother, who had finally come down from the tree, with a renewed fury. "LOOK WHAT YOU DID!" he snarled, waving the 'broken' arm in front of the startled blue eyes of his sibling. "You broke him!"

America held his hands up as a sign of surrender. "I didn't—"

"Just shut up!" Canada barked, shoving America to the ground mercilessly. He deserved some sort of physical punishment for hurting Kumajirou! Maybe if his arm was broken, it'd make things even.

With a whimper, America sniffled softly, pride damaged upon being pushed to the dirt. His next course of action was supposed to be to push Canada back; instigating a fight, but then the little colony turned his hands palm up and found them to be littered in tiny, crisscrossed cuts from where he had directed the brunt of the fall. Upon seeing a tiny streak of blood blossoming from the burning scrapes, he wailed loudly, screaming bloody murder. Canada was going to pay for this mutiny, and England would shower America with attention in return. Maybe if he howled loud enough, England would give Canada back to France.

It took no less than twenty seconds for England to come rushing into the backyard, searching worriedly for the source of the sounds of distress. Upon finding America on the ground, he rushed over and kneeled before him, attempting to brush the frantic boy's tears away.

America tried to keep up his hysterics, recognizing the expression in his eldest brother's eyes that cleared depicted his mother-hen mode. He knew England could get very protective when his colony's welfare or safety was compromised, which meant that the situation was favoring the American's side.

"Now, now, settle down. What's wrong, love?" England frowned, tenderly lifting America's hands in his own and assessing the battle wounds. "What did I tell you about running in the yard?"

"I wasn't running! C-Canada pushed me!" America shouted through his waterfall of tears, snot running down his nose. There was no way England would let Canada stay now!

England furrowed, filled with both suspicion and shock. He turned his head to interrogate the other child. "Canada, is this true?"

"Y-Yes, but he hurt Kumajirou!" Canada rushed to explain, hoping that the fact that his bear had been injured validated the damage he'd inflicted on his brother.

"I didn't mean too!" America lied coolly, still holding his offending palms out and in front of him. For greater emphasis, he rubbed at his eyes and pouted ever so slightly. His doe-like eyes had turned red-rimmed and puffy, gazing up expectantly at England. Justice had to be served.

"Yes, you did!" Canada objected, squeezing Kumajirou with all his might.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!" America feigned a well-timed sob, breath hitching. The elder nation had always had a soft spot in his heart for that single, helpless hiccup of anguish.

"That's quite enough, boys!" England finally interjected sternly, lifting up America into his arms and outstretching one hand toward Canada. "Give me the toy, Canada."

With a hesitant look, Canada gave up Kumajirou for the second time that day, all the while looking very displeased. It wasn't fair that he was being punished for the crime that America had committed in the first place. Every wrong he had done was all for Kumajirou's safety. So in a way, this had all been a form of self-defense.

"Everyone inside, now," England ordered, walking with America into the house while Canada trailed behind them with an extremely unhappy expression resting on his face. Why did he always have to be the one to get the short-end of the stick? America was always getting the easy and lenient way out of everything.

When they had all entered the house, they headed for the kitchen, where England began his lecture.

"I'm very disappointed in both of you. You both know that I do not tolerate fighting in this house. I'm stunned that either of you would even consider inflicting any type of damage on each other, whether it be verbal or physical," England chided while he set America down on the ground and ordered him to rinse his hands thoroughly in the sink. The cold water splashing onto the fresh scratches sent America hissing in pain, but England did not relent in his efforts to clean the child up.

"I'm especially disappointed in you, Canada. Since when have you decided to start causing trouble?" England asked disapprovingly, directing a frown in his newest colony's direction. "I see America has been a bad influence on you."

America took his turn to look offended at the assumption, scowling at his older brother.

Meanwhile, Canada was still trying to plead his defense. "America started it. He stole Kumajirou and—"

"I don't wish to hear the rest of the story," England suspended the conversation. "I simply want you two to behave yourselves from now on, but I know that's too much to ask. As your guardian, I have to reiterate it anyway. Now, please try to get along."

America and Canada grumbled in unison. "That's not likely…"

"Still, I'm afraid there will have to be some sort of punishment for the ruckus that has been caused today. I've been far too permitting of these antics lately because I know that you boys are still adjusting to this major change. However, I'd have thought that you two would have adapted by now," England sighed, plastering a few bandages onto America's hands before deeming him fit to take a seat with Canada at the kitchen table for the rest of the lecture.

"Are you going to send Canada back to France?" America immediately questioned excitedly, face brightening considerably in unison with Canada's.

England knit his brows together, flustered. "Of course not. Where on earth did you get that idea?"

Canada sighed.

"But he pushed me!" America puffed through a sharply drawn breath, holding up his marred hands once more for further, concrete evidence.

England could not repress his smirk. "And how many times have you gotten yourself into far deeper trouble, young man?"

Pensive, America began counting on his fingers, recalling the many lectures he'd endured in the past. With a bashful smile he blinked at England's knowing expression before responding. "Uh, a lot… Does that time when I drew a picture on your really important papers count?"

England chuckled lightly, dropping his head into his hands. "What am I going to do with you boys? The fact of the matter is, I'm not going to send Canada away simply because he was being troublesome. If that had been the case, I would've shipped you off a long time ago, America."

"Hey!" America blew a raspberry.

"Regardless, I'm afraid you'll have to skip out on dessert today, Canada," England announced, trying not to be too hard on his new colony as he studied the damage done to the child's toy. It was nothing a quick sewing session couldn't fix.

America tried not to look too triumphant at the news, though he couldn't conceal his smug features.

"That goes for you as well, America."

"WHAT?" he exclaimed, face incredulous as he watched a tight smile growing on Canada's face.

England held up a reprimanding finger. "Don't use that astonished tone with me. Canada mentioned that you were the one who stole his bear in the first place. Therefore, you are just as guilty as he is."

America sputtered. "B-But… But—"

"No buts."

Canada found a spot to jump in, feeling awfully courageous all of a sudden. Personally, it was frightening him. Was he really becoming a rebel? "You forgot to mention the tree, America."

With a glare, America sent daggers at his twin. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Are you feeling okay, Canada? Did Kumajirou eat your brains?"

England hastily investigated without skipping a beat. "What about the tree? You weren't climbing it, were you, America? I don't suggest lying because I shall find out eventually."

"Um, it's really a funny story… I-I… I've got nothing. Coming up with excuses is getting really hard," America resigned, deciding to be honest.

"No dessert for a week," England added to the punishment. "I thought you'd learnt your lesson the last time you climbed a tree."

"That's not fair! You don't deserve dessert after all the lies you've told me. I know that Whiskers died, that the Tooth Fairy isn't real, and that you're Santa Clause! Canada told me!" America protested discontentedly.

England frowned at Canada. He had been hoping to keep America oblivious until early adulthood, but that dream had clearly been destroyed. "That was different."

"No, it's still lying!" America incriminated.

England shifted a hand through his hair, wondering when those silver strands would start popping up as a direct result of America's questions over the years. He couldn't very well tell a child that lying was okay to do in certain situations; just imagine all the future chaos that would instill.

"Yes, I lied, and that was wrong of me to do. I had thought that I was protecting you, but it was a mistake. Even adults can make mistakes on occasion," England admitted smoothly, hoping America would simply let it go and move on.

"Well, you're in big trouble, mister!" America shouted, trying to make his voice deep and intimidating. "Go make your little brothers ice cream to make it up to them, right now!"

England chuckled, snatching America out of his chair and planting a final, healing kiss to the scraped hands. "I applaud your efforts, but I'm afraid that's not how it works. Now, take Canada with you and get washed up before helping me with dinner."

Canada held back the temptation to shudder at the fact that he'd have to survive another one of England's bland meals. He yearned for France's flavorful cuisine, but until he would get that opportunity again, he'd just have to settle on helping England make something reasonably edible for the night.

Despite the earlier fiasco, he knew progress was being made. Also, this newfound rivalry with America wouldn't be all too bad either. Being reunited with his twin brother had been quite startling at first, but he was beginning to understand the devious mind of his twin more and more each day. And heck, if America wanted to play, two could play at that game.

This was war.