More Children

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The doorbell rang, and America slowly blinked awake. Then, when the doorbell rang again, she hurried into her slippers and rushed down the stairs to open the door. Thankfully, the person sounded patient, and by the time America opened the door, she realized why.

"Hello Mother." It was Massachuetts, or Felix Jones/Kirkland. Beside him, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois stood, waving to their mother. "We didn't wake you, did we?"

"You did," America admitted, "but I was about to get up anyway. Well, come on in now, I also need to get breakfast started."

Massachusetts bore a striking resemblance to America, with her amber blonde hair and sky blue eyes, but he had England's shaggy hair. He also had England's personality, though he's more of a gentleman than England could ever hope to be.

The thought of England sent a wave of anger through America, something she hadn't felt towards him in a long time. He had the balls to insult her mother, calling her a savage when he didn't know jackshit about her.

America knew he was low, but this was icing on the cake. She could take his insults, but he never insults her family and expects to get away with it.

"Mama?" Ohio asked, concerned. Honora Jones/Kirkland, despite being America and England's daughter, had the appearance of an African-American woman, with her upper-back length and curly black hair, dark brown skin, and matching eyes. She was also wearing a dark red blouse, a denim skirt with a belt, and long black boots.

"I'm alright Honora, just exhausted."

"Then why don't you go back to bed?"

"Because I'm not physically exhausted."

The four understood now. "Was it one of the nations?" Indiana asked, his voice low with anger.

Indiana, or Jaden Jones/Bonnefoy, had wavy and yet short light brown hair and blue eyes, and was one of the crazy states, especially when it concerned Presidential elections and car racing. Next to him, Illinois, or Adelard Jones/Bonnefoy, had a Hispanic appearance, and was a man who spoke only when spoken to but shows how he's feeling.

Right now, he was clearly displeased.

"England actually, and don't worry, I've already took care of him," America reassured. "At least, I hope he learns his lesson."

"Yeah, hopefully." Indiana rolled his eyes at this. "No offense Mom, but England clearly is not the kind of person who even learns his lesson unless he has it beaten into him."

"I know," America admitted. "Which is why I'm hoping he learned his lesson yesterday."

"Wait, this happened yesterday?!" Massachusetts demanded.

"Yes."

"Fuck this."

"Felix," America warned.

"I'm sorry Mother, but it's true, besides, the rest of us aren't exactly fond of the nations, and you know it."

"I'm aware, now why don't you come help me with breakfast before everyone wakes up?"

For the next hour, the four new arrivals helped their mother make breakfast and set up the table. It also wasn't long after that that the states began arriving to the dining room one by one, clearly tired but not complaining as they sat down to eat. They smiled when they saw Massachusetts, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois and greeted them when they went to sit by them.

"How was your trip?"

"Did you just get here?"

And so forth.

America was still cooking when the nations finally arrived, as silent as they were yesterday, but it didn't take them long to notice the four new arrivals. She turned to them and nodded, signifying they should introduce themselves.

They did just that, though they were very hostile about it. They even went as far as to glare hotly at England, whose cheek was still red from America's slap.

And, to the other states' happiness, he was still as silent as a ghost, especially when he and the others sat down.

"Oh!" Indiana suddenly said, causing his nearby siblings to jump. "Mom, I forget to tell you, but Minnesota and Missouri are heading over here shortly."

America nodded, smiling. "Well then, good thing I made blueberry muffins too."

"Muffins?!" came a voice in the doorway. Startled, the nations turned, finding a boy with chin-length dirty blonde hair, hazel blue eyes, tan skin, and was wearing a suit that appeared to be from the 1900's. He was staring at America with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Hello Bryce," America greeted, smiling again. "And yes, I have them right here."

"Yes, muffins!" Bryce Jones/Bonnefoy, or Minnesota, chirped as he rushed over and, with a plate he got from out of nowhere, began to grab as many blueberry muffins as he could.

"Calm down Bryce," America warned. "I don't want you to over-stuff yourself you know."

"Sorry Ma."

A quiet chuckle came from the doorway, and an African-American man walked in, wearing a simple white T-shirt, black sweatpants, and sandals. His black hair was neatly combed, and he was smiling big.

Hawaii and Alaska jumped up. "Missouri!" they beamed, rushing over to their older half-brother, who then got to their level and held out his arms, allowing the two girls to rush into his chest and take him to the floor.

The states and America chuckled at the endearing scene.

"Alright schwestern, let me up now." America now didn't need to look at the nations to know that their jaws were on the floor after hearing Noel's German accent.

As soon as the girls helped him to his feet, Missouri glanced over the nations and his siblings before his eyes finally landed on his mother. "Hallo, Muti."

"Hello Noel. How was your trip?" America asked while walking over to him.

"It vas good, zhough Minnesota slept like zhe dead during it."

"I have not!"

"Alright boys, that's enough. Now, why don't you two come give Mother a hug?" The boys didn't hesitate to give America exactly what she asked for, and, as soon as they pulled away, she said, "Now, introduce yourselves. We have guests."

Minnesota seemed to realize they had a different kind of audience, for as soon as he saw the nations, he immediately frowned in disgust. Now, it wasn't a secret to any of the states or to America that Minnesota hates the nations with every fiber of his being, including his own father. 

"Good morning," Minnesota continued curtly. "I'm Bryce. Bryce Jones/Bonnefoy, or Minnesota, and trust me you cheese-headed bastard." He glared at France. "I'm not exactly pleased that I have a poor excuse for a father."

"Bryce," Missouri jumped in, giving his brother a warning glare until the latter relented and finally stepped back, grumbling to himself. Once he was satisfied that Minnesota controlled himself, Missouri stepped forward, a welcoming smile on his face.

"Guten morgan," he greeted. "I am Noel Jones/Bonnefoy, or zhe state of Missouri. It's nice to meet jou. I also apologize for my bruder. He's not exactly fond of jou all."

No one replied, though France coughed to himself.

Just then the oven dinged, and America hurried to the oven. "Well, take a seat everyone. Breakfast's ready."

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