Pasts

Thirty

((Note, this isn't a USUK, if anything, its that father/son or brother-brother relationship that these two probably have, but is definitely broken, okay?😅 Also, big chapter incoming))

After the memory, and America calmed down from his laughing fit, he started to think and quickly froze, looking scared of what was next. Canada seemed to notice the sudden shift in atmosphere, and looked over at him, frowning a bit. He didn't know what happened, all he knew was after the revolution, England was inconsolable and America was free, and both wouldn't say a word about it. England would just talk down on the American for leaving, and America would be saying how awesome it was to get independence but never how he got it, so he (and everyone else) was left in the dark.

The Canadian shook out of his thoughts, and went over, rubbing his back a small bit for comfort. "It can't be that bad, eh? I mean, you talk about how good it was to finally be independent so, it's not all bad, right?" He said, and Alfred sighed, looking up at him with a small frown. "I... I guess... I mean, getting it wasn't fun and right after, it... You'll see anyways, I don't have to explain it, let's just get this over with..." He mumbled, walking to the next door slowly, with Matthew following behind, not too excited for what he'll see.

((I can see the same happening in white limbo with England and them, and England is like America, not wanting to talk about it but fearful to rewatch it. Ok? Ok.))

"These taxes are awful! They're causing me and my people to become broke!" Was heard as the video started playing. From the other side of the table, a growl. "Well, it's the only way to get you and your rebellious rubbish dealt with! It's a punishment for being disobedient." "You started all of this in the first place! When you started taxing me before, unjustly might I add." Was shouted back in retaliation, and an offended gasp could be heard. "Unjust- I saved you from the twat! I got you more land! And, what, a few pounds is too much?!" "It was unnecessary and uncalled for! You shouldn't be taxing me if your saving me!! People got angry because you didn't even let us have a word! And your angry because people are trying to get heard by you?!" "You would only whine about being 'TaXeD tOo MuCh' if I did, like your doing right now! Compared to my own people, you should be thankful you aren't taxed as much! Even right now! You can blame yourself and your people for causing these taxes, you were and still are being rebellious for no reason!!" Another low growl was heard, and the two death glared each other, staying like this for a few long moments. "Your being tyrannical." "Your spoiled.." The two grumbled, looking away.

The American stood, sighing deeply and giving England a dead serious look. "Look. I don't want war, but, that might happen with how things are going. Just repeal your taxes and take your soldiers out of Boston, and things will be fine." He negotiated in a grave tone, and the Brit glared daggers at him. "Never. You need to be punished, or, be brought down to your level. I've been pampering you too much.." He hissed, scowling at the younger, who sighed, having had enough of this. "I'll let you think about it." The American said, still in his monotone voice, turning to leave, as Arthur grumbled, saying not nice things behind his back. Alfred just left the room, walking through the building, a governor's house, and exiting, sighing deeply once he was out.

America found himself walking into the woods, and felt himself smile at his surroundings, but that quickly disappeared, as he sat by a tree. He honestly didn't want a war or anything, just wanted a peaceful way to end hostilities, but, England said outright he wouldn't stop, and those were the things America wanted him to change... He let his head hit the tree, staring at the sky, thinking. He wanted to just vent, but figured nobody needed to know, it was personal to England and him, so, he wouldn't ruin that as well, he was doing enough to mess things up already.

The American soon stood back up after what seemed a half hour of thinking, going back to his house, thinking on the way. Once he was at the house, he went over to the couch and just fell over on it, staring at a wall blandly. He was fighting himself on if this deserved a war, apart of his said no, it could be solved in a more diplomatic way, but another part of him knew England wouldn't change, and he wouldn't either, so a war would just have to happen.