Alfred F. Jones (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asapplepie) wrote2013-04-30 08:10 pm
asapplepie) wrote2013-04-30 08:10 pm
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day three; locked to england
[America's mood is significantly different this time around. He's worried and discouraged. He should have never told England the truth yesterday...but he can't not talk to him now.
He'll meet England in his bedroom once again; he hasn't spent much time here, so the place is still tidy from England's previous efforts, though his bed is unmade.]
He'll meet England in his bedroom once again; he hasn't spent much time here, so the place is still tidy from England's previous efforts, though his bed is unmade.]
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[Oof, big giant American bear hug]
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[h-hugging back....]
Don't you dare die on me. If you die, that means I get executed tomorrow. So you have to protect yourself, okay? For my sake!
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[But his voice betrays a certain shakiness, and this doesn't fit; he's seemed so cheerful, but he's clinging a little desperately. It isn't just concern for their well-being. He's scared and he needs comfort and can't ask for it or do much more than put on a brave face. He puts his face in England's shoulder, his heart racing with nerves, and tries to will himself to calm down.]
I get it already, God.
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It's a rather sad train of logic that leads him to that conclusion, but there it is. And god, if England had known it would lead to America being at risk, he would have never said anything in the first place. He was fine with being suspected, with being a potential target for scavengers, with drawing attention to himself, but this - this was the worst possible outcome of his plan. If America dies from something he said, he would never forgive himself.]
I'll be fine. You know me, I'm always fine, no matter what they try to throw at me. I don't care if you never listen to me again, but listen to me now. You can't die. [He closes his eyes.] Don't make me beg.
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[He can tell England is trying to call his bluff, but he doesn't really care. He can't trust what England says on this. While he could be right, and it could be a waste for him to protect England, he knows England would tell him to do the same even if he was in danger. And he'd make it sound convincingly like the smart thing to do then, too.
He doesn't want to throw his life away for England, but if he woke up tomorrow having been selfish with his role and England was gone...he couldn't deal with that at all. And everybody had been so mad at England for saying he was only going to protect himself. He can't act like a coward.
But he can't deny he's terrified of what could happen tonight. He doesn't pull away, comforted by having him there and wishing it was as easy as it was when he was a kid, that he could just trust what England told him and believe they'd both be fine.]
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It's on the tip of his tongue, the temptation to confess nearly too strong to bear. If it wasn't for the fact that revealing himself would not only mean his death but America's as well, perhaps he would have. America would be furious, horrified, disgusted...but he wouldn't kill him for it, not likely anyway. But the rules were clear on the punishment for betrayal; even as sick and scared and guilty he feels, England won't doom the two of them and the town with it just for the easing of his own conscience.
It's the only thing he can say to convince America to protect himself. It's the only thing he can't say. And there's nothing else he can really do now other than hope that his words somehow got into that thick skull. America hasn't listened to him in a long, long time; he might look to England for advice on occasions, but in the end, he'll do what he wants to do. That was the whole point of that thrice-damned war, after all.
He doesn't break the hug either, not yet; while he's certainly feeling embarrassed, it's overshadowed by the fact that this may be the last time one of them ever sees the other. It's something he can swallow his own personal pride for.]
I'll see you tomorrow, okay?
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He pulls away and grins, trying to show confidence and lack of fear.]
If I feel like it! I might be too busy to drop everything and hang with you.
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[There isn't any bite to his tone whatsoever though, and the ruffle he gives to America's hair completely undermines his words. He looks outside the window, seeing the snowfall building up.]
...I should probably get going.
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By the time England looks back from the snow, he's smiling again.]
Yeah, probably!
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[And he should really stop meeting America during the night like this - it's getting harder and harder to leave each time. Part of him wants to stay and damn the consequences as long as it means he can fend off anyone trying to enter the room or take America's place. But it's a pipe dream at best; he knows how strict the rules here are.]
Don't sleep in too much. I don't want to have to deal with you whining about missing breakfast.
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[Likewise, he wants to ask England to stay. Maybe it's not allowed, but maybe Critter wouldn't care? He just doesn't want to be alone right now. But if England would get in trouble for staying, it wouldn't be okay to ask, right?]