Black Coffee :|: America x Russia :|: Countryhumans

Act II, Chapter Thirty-Eight

STAGE 2

Soda and I call this stage fracturing. His idea not mine, I can't come up with a great name like that! In retrospect, it's really not that great a name, hun.

This part isn't too fun either but not as painful as the first one.

Everyone has people who they used to be, right?

Russia snicked at a little doodle of America's two old flags and one of Australia's flags doing that spiderman meme underneath the writing.

Wait a second, was that even around when this was written--

                BOI! Where is the comma?!?!
In this stage you black out/pass out/sleep(????) and dream about the things you used to do. It's kinda just bits and bobs of stuff yiu kinda sorta remember but not really and also some new stuff! We (me and amy) call this fracturing
      Obviously it's you and America, dumbass, does anyone else even have this??
'cus it kinda feels like you're splitting into different people and like you don't know if you're you or the past you person.
Could've said "past self" but whatever past me.

This stage involves:

• really real feeling dreams. Like so real you can feel everything!

• flashbacks?? I guess?? That can technically just be roped in with dreams.

•and very VERY rarely, visions of the future!!

       "Get" makes it sound like a privilage.
The person I get to be the most is someone called Eureka? Or maybe Eureka Stockade?? Thats what everyone calls me in the dreams at least. When I'm her I'm in like really smelly and dirty clothes and sometimes there's even shiny things like gold!! But not usually. Usually I'm fighting people, bad people. People that want to hurt my friends.

Oh, and people put my flags up everywhere! Its really cool!! It was a sign of war between police and civillians, what's cool about that??

     Oh, so NOW you put in a comma.
Anyway, I'm gonna stop writing 'cus it's dinner time, and I'm hungry! Mum says we're having bangers and mash!!

Russia chuckled, shaking his head. He could hardly believe these childish words were written by the same mature country sleeping on the couch downstairs.

Actually no. He could totally believe it.

But despite finding the obvious presence of the naïve young girl Australia used to be still persisting into her adult life amusing, Russia realised something that made him frown.

Australia and America hid these problems for years, and very well at that. So that begs the question...

What else were they hiding?

▪▪¤▪▪

"We have a problem!"

"Can this problem be solved by shooting?"

"Well- no-"

"Can this problem be solved by talking?"

"Yes! Exactly!"

"Then I can't help you."

Torres Strait pouted, slumping her shoulders, "Why not?"

Morningstar shrugged, taking a sip of her tea, "I don't know how to talk to people. I'm just good at being annoying."

"Oh yea, that's your specialty," snickered Aboriginal.

Morningstar grinned, pointing fingerguns at her, "You know it, girl."

"Will you two please take this seriously!" Tori snapped, a look of surprise flashing across her features at her own harsh words.

Aboriginal frowned, going over to Tori and wrapping her in a hug, tucking her head under her chin.

"You okay, adori?" (Aboriginal: sweet)

"No," Tori sighed. "I'm worried about America."

Morning raised an eyebrow, "Why? You're not his guardian."

"Well someone has to be!" Tori hissed at her.

"Hey, hey, hey," Abby hushed softly, stroking Torres Strait's hair to calm her down. "What's got you so worked up?"

Tori looked up at her, resting her chin on Abby's red chest and frowning, "America's eyes."

"This again?" Morning groaned, putting her tea down on America's forehead (she was sitting on his stomach because Aboriginal had asked her if she could touch him despite his eyes persisting. She can.) and standing up to go over to the two. "Tori, please, it's nothing to worry about! Australia's eyes didn't turn white for a while as well, right?"

"That was for a single day, Morning! America's been stuck for a week!"

"Do you think I don't know that?"  Morning growled, crossing her arms. "I know it doesn't look like it, but I've been worried about him too. He hasn't had an episode or anything, but..."

Morningstar huffed, her gaze straying over to the sleeping siblings on the couch. The guardians could talk while they were awake, but it was rather disorienting for the countries and not recommended. When her eyeline returned to the others, she rubbed her temples as she thought about last night. "When he...when he vomited, there was black as well. Clearly cultura. His body seems to still be rejecting my presence."

Aboriginal and Torres Strait paled, looking at each other.

"...we need to tell the boss about this," Abby warned. "This is too big to ignore - it's never happened before."

"And what would we tell her, huh, Abby?" Morning laughed bitterly. "Oh, hey boss! Morningstar accidentally fucked up by apparently appearing too early and now America's broken forever!"

"Well, not that exactly..." Abby muttered.

"We need to tell her these things, Morning!" Tori pestered, stomping on the ground with one foot gently and pulling away slightly from Aboriginal. "How else will we solve this problem?"

"You mean I need to tell her these things," Morning narrowed her eyes. "It's all my fault, isn't it?"

"Don't turn this into that, Morning!"

"Why shouldn't I? I get it, I'm the cause of everyone's problems! Maybe I should just fucking disappear!"

"That is enough."

The two bickering guardians turned to the black, red and yellow Aboriginal glaring at them.

"I'm sick of you both fighting."

Morning dropped her arms, "But we--"

"I said zip it," Aboriginal commanded, staring down Morning and making her instinctively shrinking into herself.

"If neither of you are telling the boss, I will."

"Tell me what?"

The three guardians froze in their places, turning slowly to face their leader, the country who started it all. The one who had everything planned from the beginning; every wind blown through the trees, every tiny morsel that skittered along the ground, every rise and fall of the nations, and every individual heartbeat.

She would be known as God if she cared at all for titles.

She tilted her head and frowned, the emotion not quite suiting her usually cheerful eyes and causing wrinkles along her skyblue skin. Her galaxy coloured off-the-shoulder shirt resembled her calm demeanour as it flowed around her, seemingly a part of her. Her necklace hung innocently around her neck, the golden globe shining brightly in a specific area.

She wasn't angry. Or disappointed.

Just confused.

Morning groaned, facepalming as the two guardians in front of her gaped in awe of their leader.

"Oh here we fuckin' go."