Countryhumans one-shots

Papa?

Prompt: France loses the 7 years war to him of all people. He loses his men, his pride, his dignity. But most of all, he loses his son, Canada. His pride and joy, his happiness, his wonderful, beautiful, innocent son. Now in the hands of that, that bastard. "Papa? When are you coming back?"

Non

Non!!

This wasn't supposed to happen like this!

I was supposed to win! To bathe in glory! To finally show him that I'm not some joke!

Matthieu...

I...I'm sorry...

Je t'aime...

France sobbed at his desk, a copy of the treaty he had recently signed not too far from his now shaking form. The recent war with his enemy, the British Empire, had drained him of his men, supplies, and ships. But he didn't care about any of those things. He could repair some of those ships, he could re-supply his army with more men if need be, he could re-furbish supplies.

But not him

Please, anything but him

1763

"Not my son..."

"You said you would give up some of your territory if I won. And I did. Now, if you would be so kind as to hand over the boy, I'll be on my merry way."

France stood there, shaking. Yes, he did agree to give away some territory, but not in North America. Anything but North America. His son was there, Canada was there. Didn't this bastard already have a daughter!? Why did he need his son!?

"You-You can't! That is my son! You've taken much from me, but not my son! That is where I draw the line!!" France declared, determined to keep Canada in his care.

The other empire chuckled a bit, a wicked grin plastered on his features. "You see France, this treaty that you signed states that the winner of this war gets to chose what territory they would like from the losing party.... and Canada here is the territory that I would like to have. Now if you would kindly hand him over...unless you want me to march on Paris..." England explained, his smile never fading as he extended his hand towards the door that was slightly ajar.

"You wouldn't dare!" France seethed. He would defend his capitol to the death if he had to.

"I would dare. You've just barley crawled out of a war that lasted for 7 years. I don't believe you want to go through another one. You wouldn't be able to handle it..."

France looked to Canada who was in the other room, playing with England's daughter, America, who seemed to be a little too rough for the fragile boy to be playing with. He looked back at England; Oh, how he wished he could kill him with his glare...

"I...I will make you pay for this!! You-you bastard!" France growled under his breath, careful to keep the children nearby from hearing such vile words. "I will make sure you regret this someday! I promise you that!" France promised. He was going to give him hell the next time they went to war with each-other.

England chuckled a bit as France went into the other room to fetch Matthew. France was practically on the verge of tears at this point. What was he going to say? How was he to explain that he could never see him again? Why did this bastard have to take away his pride and joy!?

"Papa...?"

France snapped out of his spiraling trance, confused for a moment before his eyes locked on large, violet ones. Canada sat there with his teddy bear, innocently looking up at the man he called his father. France could barely find the right words.