He And His Dog

chapter three

America stood there, unsure of what to say. Nervousness boiled inside him, a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. Then, he had an ingenious idea to lie.

"So, I went swimming, for, well, y'know, a bath," America tried to start explaining, "And I was caught upstream, and hit my face on a rock."

"That, is.." Poland paused, "..A strange way to get a scar."

"Stupid, I know," America chuckled nervously, hoping they wouldn't spot his lie. His truth? He didn't trust them enough to tell them just yet. Trauma wouldn't be spoken of unless he'd built a stable area of trust.

"So are you two okay with each other?" Germany asked, placed a hand on Poland's shoulder and looking up to America.

Poland nodded subtly, with a slight grin across his face. America grinned, giving Germany the thumbs up. He'd been okay with Poland since he'd seen him, but he knew it wasn't the other way around.

There was an awkward silence between the three of them. America huffed and tapped his foot on the floor, looking around. He then stopped, pointed to the doorway behind him, and shrugged.

"I think I'm gonna, well," America hummed, as Germany and Poland snapped out of it, and nodded.

"Me and Polen will be down shortly," Germany smiled to America, as America nodded, dragged his bag to where he stood, and jogged down the steps. When he went down, Oreo watched him enter the room, and bounded over to America.

"Hey, it's not even been ten minutes," America chuckled, kneeling down to scratch Oreo behind the ears, "Calm down, pal!"

From the corner of America's eye, he watched Spain shuffle over, and stroke Oreo some more as well. A grin tugged at America's lips, he was glad that he and Oreo were accepted. At least a bit.

"Hello," A soft, curious sounding voice made themselves apparent, making America look up.

There, stood another young boy, with a pale yellow long-sleeved shirt. He had baggy, ripped jeans, and a pair or odd socks. The smaller country wore a homemade crown.  Their flag was red on the bottom and a dark blue on the top, with a crown identical to the one the country had made on the top left of his face. They carried a small white rabbit plush toy.

"Who are you?" They asked shyly. America's heart melted to how cute they were, however he handled it lightly; he didn't want to scare the newcomer.

"America," He smiled, his voice small. "What's you name?"

"Liechtenstein," The boy responded, holding his rabbit closer, "Did you come from out there?"

"Sure," America stretched, placing his glasses on his head, "I'm nobody to be scared of-"

"Did you fight any monsters?" Liechtenstein perked up, his eyes glistening with excitement he tried to hold back, "And castles? Were there big castles?"

"The biggest," America began to play along, careful to keep the other happy, "And guess what? Enormous dragons guarded tons of gold in those castles, I even found them in really big caves in the sides of mountains."

Liechtenstein's mind was racing with fantasy, absorbing every word America spoke like a sponge.

"My buddy here," America gestured to Oreo, "He's helped me navigate the world, and, of course, fight all of the monsters that want to steal your things."

Oreo rolled over, facing Liechtenstein as he started to rub the dog on the belly. 

"That sounds so cool," Liechtenstein said with awe, "I wish papa and tata would let me go on big adventures, like you."

"Where are they?" America asked, his attention hadn't left Oreo.

"Upstairs," Liechtenstein responded simply, "Uncle Italy told me you were talking to them?"

America's eyes widened in realisation; Liechtenstein had been speaking of Germany and Poland. It was strange to think of those two as parents - but then, on the other hand, America barely knew them. In a matter of fact, he'd only known them for not even half an hour.

"Well," America trailed off, "I'm sure that when you're older, they'll let you go on every adventure you want."

"Is that what your papa did for you?" Liechtenstein asked. America froze up, his heart sunk down into his stomach as a stone would in water. Spain looked up at America and noticed his expression, placing a hand on Liechtenstein's shoulder.

"No, it's different," Spain muttered to him, "His dad didn't want to leave him. Right?"

Spain looked back to America. America shrugged.

"I can't remember them," He spoke honestly, a chuckle escaping his mouth, "But from what dad left me, I can tell he was really family-oriented."

Spain raised a brow, as America opened his jacket to pull a picture out - a picture of his family. Of who they used to be.

America's father stood tall behind him and his brother, a gentle grin on his face. He had widely-brimmed glasses and a beanie on, America's younger brother in his arms. The woman, America's mother, stood beside him, cradling a baby, a beret carelessly placed on her head. She had a wide grin, looking not at the camera, but at America's older brother. He stood taller than America, a coon hat threatening to cover his eyes at even the smallest movement. And there America stood, with the biggest grin he'd ever been able to pull, both of his hands holding his father's wrist.

"I wish I could've met them," Tears threatened to spill from America's eyes, as he thought fast and flicked his glasses down, "All of them didn't make it. Dad packed me up and let me get away. I.. I'm so angry that I can't remember.. I..."

Spain placed a hand on America's shoulder, "I'm sure they're proud of you. I mean, you've gotten this far. You've survived that war, and after all of this time, you've been alone with only your dog. You've supplied your own food. If they aren't smiling down at you, I'm not sure what sort of parents they are."

America nodded hesitantly. He finally looked up at Liechtenstein and Spain, before he sighed, nothing more to say.

"Can I go outside?" Liechtenstein tugged at Spain's sleeve, breaking the awkward silence. Spain nodded, watching Liechtenstein cheer, dashing out of the front door.

"Stay for as long as you want," Spain nodded to America. America dropped his head back down to give his dog more attention, before hearing a squeal from outside.

Liechtenstein.