𓆩♡𓆪 My Son

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Britain POV

I should have stayed...

I shouldn't have left her on her own...

This is my fault...

If she.... If they both die...


It'll be my fault...







"Sir..."

I looked up at the nurse from where I sat. She was wearing that dreaded white uniform that I hated so much. "The surgery was a success and everything fi-"
"Thank god, could I see them please!" I cut her off feeling relief wash over me. Her face held a look of pity at my question. "I'm... not sure if now is the best time, your wife... she's.... O-okay. I'll let you see her"

Taking a deep breath, I got up from my seat, placing New Zealand who had fallen asleep on my lap, in the chair next to her brothers. "I'm going to go see your mother, watch your sister while I'm gone" I spoke to America, he was the only one other than myself who hadn't fallen asleep yet. And I couldn't even blame him.

He saw things he shouldn't have, and it was once again my fault. America's tired eyes looked up at me with an uncertain look. He didn't say anything, but his eyes were all I needed to know what he wanted. Turning to the nurse, I gave her a pleading look. "Can I bring my son, he was the one who found her, it would only be right that he saw her" The nurse took a look at the teen behind me, "That should be fine, just don't tell anyone I let him"
With that, she turned around, "Come with me"

She led us down the white hospital hallways, the lights were dimmed in consideration for the sleeping patients and it was dead silent with the only exceptions being the night shift doctors moving from room to room. She stoped outside of a door identical to the others and turned towards us. "Before you go I must tell you, your wife's fall caused her body significant trauma, and because of that, she was sent into a premature birth. Your baby was born healthy but..." She paused, "ill....I'll let you see for yourself"

Worry ran through me as I touched the doorknob, I felt America slid his hand into my own for comfort. "It'll be alright" I said to him, finally opining to door and walking inside. There, laying on the bed was my wife, the person I spent the last 8 hours worrying over. "France, how do you feel?" I asked her noticing the small incubator placed next to the bed.

She didn't say anything back prompting me to move closer. America let go of my hand and walked over to greet his new sibling as I sat down next to my wife. "France..." my voice died down when I noticed her face. She held a blank expression, not even her eyes held a tint of light in them as they did before.

"....dad..." America spoke, making me look over at him as he hung his head over the incubator. "....what's wrong with him..." Him. So it is a boy. Cautiously, I rose to my feet and walked towards the scene, but upon looking over the edge of the crib like structure, I felt my joy turn into shock at the sight.

There, laying in the incubator was a baby, a baby boy wrapped in a blue blanket and seemingly fast asleep. Only, the his skin... his flag was... white? "What?" I gasped out loud. How is this possible, his skin shouldn't be pure white. Countries are born with their flags but somehow here was my son, my child born without one at all. "I meant to tell you that.."

I flinched at the voice of the nurse as she entered the room. "Your son was born premature, far too early for a his flag to have developed its full color yet. The chance of him even surviving was low, but thankfully he did. As for his flag however, only time will tell when it will develop on its own." Her words struck me like knifes, too premature for a flag? Nonsense. Certainly this has to be a mistake of some kind.

"Has this ever happened before..." I could barely register my own weak voice. "No.." the nurse started, "The only thing that has ever come close to this is an instance where a country was born with a flag that had faded colors, thought the pigment became stronger overtime. There has never been in instance where a country was born without a flag whatsoever... I'm sorry-"

"Well there must be something you can do!" I raised my voice before I even knew what I was saying. "You can't just sit here and tell me my son doesn't have a flag, that's preposterous and I won't stand for such lies!"

"Sir I've told you all I know, your son has a birth defect but that doesn't mean he has no chance of flag development. We must wait and see" The nurses stern voice rang in my ears. "You should be grateful that your son was born in perfect health, being as though he is a month and a half premature..."

Glancing at France in disbelief, I saw the steady flow of tears as they stained her beautifully broken face. "....can you give us a minute.."

"No problem sir, click the blue button if you need me"

~

"France"

I spoke to the woman as she sat in a chair, silently staring out the window with the same blank face she held for the past few month. "Please... will you hold him" I held out the baby boy in my arms for her to hold, not even reviving a glance in my direction. "...he's your son?! Please"

Once again, not even a glance. It is been like this ever since that night, she hadn't said a word to me, or anyone for that matter. The doctor told me she was suffering from postpartum depression, and might not be in mindset stable enough to hold, feed or even care for her child, but as much as I tried to understand. I couldn't, it should never last this long.

"France.... will you at least look at him... for just a second. Please.." I was pleading with her at this point but unsurprisingly, she didn't move. I let out a sigh of frustration and sadness and looked down at the little life which I held. Other than his white skin, other features which were similar to my own had started to shine through. He was awake today, those large (e/c) eyes stared back at me, making a smile tug at my lips ever so slightly.

Softly putting my hand in front of him, his own tiny one found its way to mine. Gripping onto it with strength only a newborn could have. So strong yet so full of life, this was my child. My son, and I won't fail him again, even if it breaks my heart, I won't do it, not anymore...

"...France I....























....I want a divorce"

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