Tomorrow will be Kinder (I Promise): Epilogue

With a glass of scotch in hand, England weaves through the gaggle of bodies in the middle of the room. If he gets up to his study now, he'll be able to spend most of the night there uninterrupted. Sighing as he gets away from the oppressive heat, England glances back once, it's not that he's not happy that all the children are here, it's just he hadn't been prepared. Who would have thought America could keep such a secret? A Christmas party at his home that he didn't know about until the guests began to arrive (what on earth was the boy thinking to throw it at his house?). It had been a lot of yelling and confusion at first, but once England understood what was happening, he told the first couple nations to arrive to let everyone else who came in while he ran to the market to stock up on food.

America got an earful when he arrived, but everything–surprisingly enough–is going well. So far, there have been only three broken plates, one door knocked off its hinges and a minor accident where Australia fell off the roof while trying to put up Christmas lights with America and Ireland. That might not have been the best combination of people, England realizes in hindsight. Smiling as he shoves open his study door, he nearly drops his glass upon seeing Scotland leaned up against the window, staring out into the garden where some of the children were playing.

"Oh, I'll-I'll leave," he stutters.

Scotland pushes herself up from her slouch, eyes wide. "Ya don' have ta," she says.

Gazing at one another for a moment, England only decides to stay when his sister's lips quirk downward into a faint frown. "Okay," he reluctantly agrees.

Pulling over chairs for each of them by the window, Scotland waves her hand for him to come forward. "Take a seat, lad."

England does.

Jittery, the two don't look at each other in more than glances for a time. Eventually, England's eyes land on the scene outside; Hong Kong is lighting firecrackers for Sealand, Wy, and Northern Ireland. He should probably open the window and tell the children off for breaking one of his house rules, but he can't bring himself to ruin the youths' fun tonight. Smiling just a bit, he sips at his scotch. Je knows such moments can be few and far between, so, why should he ruin it?

"They're sweet, ain't they?" Scotland comments from her spot.

Startling, England's eyes land on his sister's wistful gaze. "Children always are," he replies.

Something a little darker edges into her slight smile. "Ah, ta love children, if only everyone could," Scotland murmurs.

England shifts uncomfortably in his seat, senses on alert. Is this it? Will Wil tell him about what happened to her at the hands of Rome? "Is there something you want to… talk about?" he asks, voice cracking.

Scotland appears confused for a moment, but, then, she laughs. "Nay, I don't believe I ever will," she informs him.

Feeling just a little put out at the rejection, England drops his gaze to his lap. "Oh," he whispers, flitting his stare about the room. England then asks, "What are you doing up here, then?"

She shrugs. "It was a little ta much fer me downstairs," she admits and, for the first time in a long time, England feels a kinship to his sister.

"Too hot, wasn't it?" England says with a quirk of his lips.

Scotland smirks. "I don' know about hot, but it was loud."

They give small snorts of laughter and look each other in the eye. After a breath of silence, England inquires, "What was it like being a child for a second time?"

Scotland's stunned for a moment, falling back in her chair, her eyes once again drift to the children outside. "Odd," she says, but then she shakes her head. "It was good," she admits. "All that practice came in handy, I suppose. Ya weren't a half-bad older brother."

England can't hide his beaming smile and, for her part, Scotland thinks he deserves to be elated.

Soon, the smile turns to a cringe, then, a frown and before she knows it, England is outright sobbing like a baby. Worried, Scotland puts a hand on his knee. "What's wrong? I didn't-"

England holds up a hand and shakes his head. "N-No," he whimpers, "it's the n-nicest thing an-anyone's ever said…"

Perturbed, Scotland gapes. "What? I know people say mean things ta ya, but, really?"

"All I wanted! All I wanted was to know I was good at something!" England cries and it clicks for Scotland.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, mustering up a lot of courage to hug him. "We've always been so caught up in our own hang ups…"

England's green eyes are brilliant as he squeezes her back. "I don't mind," he whispers, "all I care was that you said it."

Exhaling, Scotland brings their chairs together so they're touching and she rests her head on top of her brother's blond mop. "You're welcome," she replies.

They fall back into quietness and watch a snowball fight slowly unfold outside. It starts with just the kids, but then the older ones from inside trickle out until its an outright riot just beneath the cold window pane. Together, brother and sister watch the people raised as siblings behave as they should, with attentiveness, competitiveness, and most importantly, joy.

An epilogue!...four months later, but that doesn't matter! I hope you liked it and the fic altogether, it was really fun to write and I think it has to be one of my favorite Hetalia pieces I've written so far.

Thank you to everyone for reading this fic and I hope you'll review :)

If you liked this, you might also like, These Little Things will Define us, for more Scotland and England. Or, if you'd rather read more parental England, there's A Little Bird.

EDITED: 2/9/16