Tea time with a commie - Countryhumans SovBrit

Chapter 7 • Maybe he IS a good person!

No one's POV:

A few hours have passed and Britain was finally back in London. He had his luggage and was going to call for a taxi back home. While he walked through the busy building, ignoring the looks most people tend to give to a Countryhuman, he heard a few familiar voices.

"Maybe he actually died and we're just waiting for nothing."
"Na, don't say that, mun (man)! I doubt that Russian is stupid enough to kill someone like Britain."

Is that... England and Wales? Britian turned around quickly and soon noticed the two speaking amongst themselves. Scotland was also there! Britain rushed towards the trio,
"Long time, no see!" He was still cheerful from the past two days.
"See, told you he's alive," Wales snickered.
England ignored the remark,
"Britian, don't ever go somewhere like that again! You are actually an idiot for doing that!"
"Apologies, but it would've been rude to not go. He did ask for me. And I've let him in my own house, too." Britian explained.
"What!?"

While the two bickered, Wales and Scotland laughed at them. It was quite entertaining to watch the two of them argue.
"Okay, okay, maybe we should talk somewhere more private," Wales inturrupted them.
Britain nodded. He thought he'd get a more welcoming return.

~~~

British boy's POV:

At least I don't have to hire a taxi. Scotland offered to drive us all back to my place.
"By the by," Wales started, "America is waiting for you at your house."
What? My own son? Is actually visitng me?
"Really? Why?"
"Because someone decided to tell him where you went off to," Scotland gave a small glare to England.
"Because it's a bloody death wish to go there! I think your son would at least want to know where you were incase you died - or disappeared!"
England and Scotland began to argue. They always find something to argue about. While they do, I can hear Wales giggling at them. We're both sat at the back while the two arguing are sat at the front. I don't actually speak to Wales that often. Maybe that's why he rarely speaks to me. I could take this as an opportunity to speak to him, actually.

"How are you getting on, Wales?" I ask.
"I'm doing alright? What about you?"
I now remember why I rarely speak to him. His accent is very... Difficult at times. Saying that, so too is Scotland's and Northen Ireland's. But Wales' tone of voice is also difficult, too. I can never really tell what he's thinking or feeling.
"I'm alright, too." I sigh.
Wait. These three are here now... Where is Northern Ireland?
"Where is Northern?"
Wales shrugged, "he said he's coming down, but he's taking longer than expected. He'll probably be here tomorrow?"
Makes sense. He doesn't even live on the main island.

"How was it in Moscow?" Wales lowers his voice.
The other two are still arguing. I don't think they're even arguing about the same thing anymore.
"Quite pleasent, actually. This might come off as quite odd, but I think Soviet is actually a nice person-"
Enlgand suddenly turns his head to us two,
"What!? Really? Have fun telling that to America."
"You're not gonna tell him, are you?" Wales asks, "it should be more up to Britain, honestly."
England shrugs, "I think he should know regardless-"
"Snitch." Scotland says bluntly. And the two at the front are back to arguing.
I put my head in my hands.
"Oh my goodness..."
"They're always arguing," Wales smriks at the remark, "but it's really funny to watch."
"It gives me a bloody headache," I utter quietly.

We arrive at my house - thank God! The two are still arguing, just a little less. They kindly take my things for me and I enter the house. Where is my son? I walk around aimlessly until I enter the dinning room. America was sitting at one of the chairs, not paying much attention until he heard me enter. He stood up and stared for a moment, maybe unsure of what to do.
I can imagine his shock. His own father - me - just decied to visit the enemy. Please just be civil about this, Ame. I give a short wave,
"Ame..! How are you..?-"
America rushes up to me,
"Dad!? What the hell were you thinking!? Going to that dirty Russian's country! Are you crazy!?"
I thought he'd want to embrace, like a hug, to welcome me back. But no. He keeps yelling out questions and belittling my choice.
"It was fine, Ame, please-"
"Don't call me Ame!" He snaps, "do you realise how much fucking stress you caused me!? Or Nada! Or Kiwi! Or Aussie! Think about how - or what - NATO must think!"
I'm here and alive and well. Isn't that enough? Could he not just calm down? I put my hand out to speak,
"Listen-"
"To what!? Some pathetic excuse you're about to make up!?"
Pathetic? It's not pathetic, is it?
"I was only visitng!" I regret raising my voice, "he asked me to come and so I did. It's just curtosy-"
"You and your damn courtosy! It doesn't make you look good, Britain!"
I didn't think I'd feel so hurt to hear my own son call me by my name. I get he's upset, but... I'm at a lost for words.
England and the other two enter the dinning room. Or maybe they have been here for a few seconds. I'm not sure.
"He said he thinks Soviet was nice, too!" England adds fuel to the fire. For Christ's sake...
"What!?" America just stares at me, "really!? You think him of all people is nice!?"
"Well..." I'd hate to lie, but I'd also hate to upset my son, "if you get to know him-"
"You're being manipulated, for fucks sake!" America hisses out. I'm starting to lose my temper.
"I'm not! If you would just listen for a minute-"
"Whose side are you even on!? Have you forgotten-"
"Maybe Soviet is a good person!" I finally yell out, "maybe if you just put your differences aside for a moment then you'd understand exactly what I'm on about!"
America walks past, giving me the cold shoulder, "I should've listened to mom and not come here."
He leaves the house.

I look at England, rather pissed.
"Did you really have to say that?"
He doesn't reply.

I wished I had stayed with Soviet for longer.

~~~

A few hours had gone by. England and Scotland decided to go out for the night. To my surprise, Wales stayed behind. Perhaps he feels bad for me. Though, I don't see why. He rarely speaks to me. We still haven't spoken much. Maybe because there isn't much to say. Or maybe it's too awkward to ask.

We're both sat on the settie, watching TV. I'm not paying much attention to it. I have the gift bag Soviet gave me before I left. Might as well inspect the items further. First, I take out the ushanka. It is a really nice hat. I run my fingers through the fur. It's like petting a cat. I then take out the phrase book. It'd be good to start reading this soon.

"I believe what you said, by the way," Wales says out of nowhere.
"Sorry?" I don't know if I heard him correctly.
"About USSR," he clarifies, "he could be nice. Maybe only to you." He muttered that last part quietly, as if I couldn't hear.
Could be? No, he is nice. He was so polite to me. More polite then anyone else has been recently.
"He is. He told me... He told me that he invited me over because of the divorce. He genuinely wanted to check up on me." He was the only one who wanted to check up on me.
"Well, I guess he can be nice then. But, I wouldn't know. I haven't met or seen the man in person."
I can't tell if Wales is being genuine or taking the piss. Maybe he actually believes me.
"Maybe you could come with me during a meeting with him," I suggest.
"Maybe."

A great deal of silence flies by. I can hear small pellets of rain begin to smack against the window. It's light rain. For now.

...

"Britain," Wales speaks up.
"Yes?"
"Was he the only person to check on you?"
I nod,
"Only him. No one else has."

...

"Sorry no one else has checked on you..." He looked at me, "I'm sorry I haven't either."

---

((Boys, it's getting deep. It's about to get deeper. Dw, I have some devious plans within like five chapters :)))