When You Killed Him

Day One

"Dad?" Ontario walked into his father's room, still a bit tired. He had just woken up. He didn't know when he had fallen asleep, but apparently he had. It had been a tiring day after all. But now it was around dinner time, and he was a bit hungry, so he decided to look for his dad and ask what they had to eat. But as soon as he walked into the red carpeted room, he wanted to throw up.

Something didn't feel quite right. Everything was in it's place, from the bed and it's nightstands, to the chair by the bedroom window with the curtains closed and blinds shut. But this time, the room was very quiet. Usually his dad would be reading a book, typing on his laptop, playing his guitar or violin, or he just wouldn't be in his room. The silence was starting to freak Ontario out. He walked over to the bed, where his dad was. He seemed to be asleep. But as Ontario got closer, he realized, his dad wasn't moving. At all.

He wasn't breathing.

"Dad?" Ontario raised his voice, trying to wake his father up. "Dad, wake up!

He shook Canada gently at first, but he started to shake him a bit harder when he still wouldn't wake up, or breathe. "Dad? Dad!"

Now in full panic mode, Ontario picked up the phone on his dad's nightstand and speed dialed his uncle Ame's phone number. The first one that he saw. He couldn't speak, and he couldn't stop crying. As soon as he heard a voice on the other end of the phone, he started screaming that he needed help, and that his uncle needed to come to his house quick.

The voice one the other end shouted for someone, and tried to get Ontario to calm down.

The next few things Ontario did went by in a blur, and seemed louder than it should have. The knock at the door, leading America upstairs to Canada's room, being told not to touch anything and even just standing still moved too fast. Time started to seem like an illusion, moving too quickly and too slowly at the same time. Ontario didn't want time to pass, he wanted it to go backwards, back to when he had just walked through the front door of his house so that he could change something. He wished that he had thought to have a conversation with his dad before it was too late to do so again. If he'd known that this would happen, he would've forced his dad away from his work just to spend some time with him. Not that Canada had ever spent too much time working, it was just that none of his kids really cared to interrupt him when he was working. And when he was done working, they weren't always as interested as they could've been in spending time with him.

"Ontario?" America placed a hand on his nephews shoulder, using his other hand to take his sunglasses off. He knelt beside Ontario, who was sitting on his knees by his father's bed, crying and shaking uncontrollably while holding Canada's hand.

 "Y-yeah?" Ontario stuttered, not turning to look at his uncle. His grief hardly allowed him to breathe, so he didn't feel like he could move at the moment.

"Did you want to leave the room Buddy?"

Ontario shook his head. He wanted to stay with his dad. America sighed in response, and looked around, wondering what he could do for his nephew before seeing Canada's old hat.  Carefully, he reached over to where it was and took it. It was sort of a reference to the fur trade, but it wasn't really made of a beaver's skin. It just looked and felt like it. America smiled, remembering when Canada had been given this hat by their dad. And his other younger brother had recorded the whole thing. After letting his mind wander for a moment, America turned to his nephew again.

"Ontario, can you look at me? I have something for you."

"I don't want it." Ontario shook his head without bothering to look or ask any questions. He felt like he was suffocating, and about to puke. He was crying to hard to breathe or see clearly. He didn't want to do anything but cry anyways.

"Just look." America insisted. "You'll want it, I swear."

Ontario lifted his head reluctantly and looked at his uncle, then he saw his dad's hat. He took it without hesitation and hugged it tightly, more tears now pouring down his face. America smiled sadly at this and tried to wipe those tears away.

"Are your siblings awake? Are they here right now?" America asked softly, suddenly aware of the noise that they were making.

"I don't know." Ontario shrugged. "Maybe."

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"That's probably your cousin." America sighed. "One of them, anyways. They were very worried about you guys."

Ontario stood up with his uncle, knowing that he was supposed to follow him. They walked to the front door as the person outside knocked a few more times, and rang the doorbell. America opened the door with Ontario hiding slightly behind him, still clinging to his dad's hat.

"Delaware?" America frowned slightly at his oldest son. "What are you doing here?"

"Are they okay?" Delaware asked immediately, ignoring his dad's question. He didn't care if his dad was angry with him, the only thing running through his mind as he stood anxiously at the front door was whether or not his family was okay.

America opened the door for Delaware to come inside, then closed it again. "Del, can you sit with Terry and try to calm him down please?"

"Okay Dad." Delaware nodded, leading his younger cousin into the living room. The room was a bit plain and boring, with green carpets, cream coloured wallpaper, and two black rocking chairs and a black couch. There was a big window that you could see the front yard from, with the thick, dark green curtains drawn back. There was a desk underneath the window with a few potted plants and family photos on it, but that was about it. There was nothing else in that room.

Delaware had Ontario sit down on the couch before sitting beside him and trying to think of what he could say. He didn't want to ask what happened out of fear that Ontario might get upset again, but his curiosity was killing him. Finally, he took a deep breath, and spoke.

"Ontario?"

That was all that managed to get out. Ontario just looked at him, tears in his eyes, streaking his face, which was his flag since he was a provincehuman. His breathing was quicker than normal, and his red skin looked a bit pale.

"Are you okay?" Delaware asked, finally getting his words out of his mouth.

"No..." Ontario started shaking again, new tears streaming down his face. "You don't know what happened, do you?"

"No, I don't." Delaware admitted, wanting this mystery to finally be over with. "Can you tell me?"

"My dad.... H-he..." Ontario stopped there, his breaths getting quicker and shorter. He looked panicked and tired, worrying Delaware even more.

"Terry? Are you okay? What happened to your dad?"

"H-he... Died." Ontario whispered, silent tears falling from his eyes to the ground.

Delaware just sat there, shocked, before pulling his cousin into a hug. He suddenly felt guilty. He was always so upset over his own mother's death that he never realized that Ontario had lost his mother first, and now he had lost his dad was well. It wasn't fair.

America soon walked down the stairs with a few more children. Twelve of them, all crying or looking as though they had been crying. All with each of their own respective flags on their faces, just like all other country, province, territory, or statehumans. Quebec was crying the hardest. Nova Scotia and New Brunswick were both wearing all black, with their hoods up and covering their faces, and their father's flag pinned to their hoodies on the left side of their chests. Northwest Territories was trying to calm Manitoba down. Even four year old Nunavut knew very well what was going on.

Everyone just stood in the living room for a few minutes, waiting for the only adult in the room to make a decision on what to do next. But no matter what America chose to do, they all knew, nothing was ever going to be the same again.