AquaEclipse: 1920s were actually pretty great for Americans— in my opinion, it was the year 1919 that really sucked. America references the Boston Molassacre (which does happen to be a great name) and the Palmer Raids. The Palmer Raids were essentially the result of Mitchell Palmer (who I believe was the Attorney General at the time) coming under fire for not doing anything about the communism slowly corrupting the hearts of every American community. Palmer decided to start deporting people to make himself look good. Now, he actually did deport a few radicals— however, a lot of the people arrested and later deported were in fact entirely innocent.

Britain was back home. Finally, after a humiliating defeat in which Cornwallis, the motherfucker, had made him go out and continue with the surrender to the goddamn Americans, he was at home. After a humiliating defeat, it was all over.

Britain was fairly certain it was the end of the world. Indeed, the band had been right.

It wasn't the end of the world, and of course he knew that. Still, wouldn't it be so nice to pretend that everything was over? That he was done?

"I can't believe it. That ungrateful little bastard takes all of my resources and uses me all this time and then he just leaves." He put his head on the table, quickly lifting it and putting a stein to his lips, taking another swing of alcohol and then resting again.

"You still have me, Mr. Britain! I'll always be here!"

"Ha, yes. I suppose so."

Britain briefly recalled what had happened. He had promptly started crying after the surrender was done, and America had just looked at him and shook his head as if to say, you look like shit now. Crying won't win me over a second time.

"I can't believe it. After everything I did for him..." England hit his head on the table. "What an ungrateful little bitch! I fight the war and he benefits, so of course I wanted him to pay a bit. After all, it's not like I got jackshit! It was him who was safe from that pervert France because of me! What did I get? Basically nothing! Sure, I wouldn't let him use the new land, but I didn't use it either! And sure I got a lot of other territory, like— like Quebec, but that's bloody French! Surely America saw that he was the real winner? But nooooo— instead he starts whinging about taxes."

"Right. Maybe we should go—,"

"You know what? I'm glad to be rid of him. He was a little shit anyway. Not as good as— as Canada, or anyone really."

"Well. That's nice."

The two were silent for a moment. "Goddamnit," Britain said. "Goddamnit!" Which drew the disapproving gazes of the religious folk that frequented the tavern, if nothing else. Then again, God had clearly left him. "I was sober for him. The little shit. At least I don't have to be sober now, since I've got nobody. Not like I have to set any examples."

"Uh-huh," his friend said, sounding a bit annoyed.

"Why'd he have to leave? I'm going to die without him," Britain whined.

"It's not like you're never going to see him again, Mr. Britain. Remember, you've still gotta see him at least one more time."

"Yes, I suppose so. But he's not mine. I don't think anything is ever going to fill the void he's left behind. That fucking asshole, leaving me alone like this. And over stupid fucking taxes, too, which was just a punishment that he deserved because of what a little shit he was being!"

"Sure," his friend said. "I agree completely. He should've stayed. It would've been for the better if he'd stayed. Don't worry, I'm sure he'll come back soon."

Britain laughed. "As if I'd take him back," he said. He coughed. "God, I wonder if I wanna feel this way? It feels so horrible to exist without him but I don't want him back. Oh god, the world's going to end."

"The world isn't going to end. Even if it does, you still have me."

Britain ignored that. "The most powerful army in the world, defeated by its own colonies! What if everyone else catches up now? What if they begin to hate me? What if they kill me?"

"I think you're very strong, Mr. Britain. Perhaps it was just a bad moment. And I will stick with you no matter—,"

"Oh, America! You were so loyal! What did I do wrong?" England called out, crying to the ceiling as if America was God. "You tried so hard to pledge your loyalty, and I... I'm sorry. I ignored it. I didn't want to do this to you. I love you. Please come back."

"Mr. Britain, people are starting to give us weird looks," his friend murmured.

"You know Quebec? Screw Quebec. I know you had land and I'm so, so sorry. You were always my favourite, even if you were a little fucking piece of shit all the goddamn time."

"Mr. Britain, please stop—,"

"Oh god, I'm sorry. I'll do everything you want within reason just please come back." And with that, Britain started crying. "But you were so goddamn ungrateful! And of course I had to punish you when you wasted all that tea! And sure it got a little out of hand, what with the yelling and... and everything else I did... just please come back. I'd never let it get out of hand like that again."

"America's not here. You know that, right?"

Britain clenched his fists, trembling a little. He was clearly exhausted and he hadn't actually slept since he'd gotten back. "But then, get this, right! He convinced himself that I was abusive and then he fucking left me!"

"Hm," his friend said. "I don't think you're abusive."

"I'm not. I just had to punish him because he kept doing weird ass shit and it was making me look bad, and it was making him look bad too."

Silence. The entire tavern was dead quiet. "I don't know why I'm even talking to you," Britain murmured, staring at the counter in front of him. "You're not even bloody real."

Canada didn't know what to say to that.

(Linebreak.)

Canada went to an inn across the street after escorting Britain to his house. The next day he came over and made Britain some tea.

Britain just sat, slumped over. "Thank you, love," he said once he'd gotten his tea. "Say, Canada— when did you even come over?"

Canada didn't bring up the fact that they had, in fact, gone home on the exact same ship, and that Britain had gotten very drunk in front of him. Instead he said, "I arrived this morning."

"Oh. Well, I'm so glad you're here."

A review would be wonderful. Sorry if this chapter was a bit darker than the others. Have a great day and stay safe— make sure to stay warm, or I guess just at a comfortable temperature if you live somewhere where it's not yet cold.