The Things I'd Rather Forget // Countryhumans AU

Ch 34: Brother \ The Possible New Ally

Two pairs of feet pattered on a concrete floor. One consistent, regulated, and heavy, the other lighter, more hurried, and less noticeable.

The person responsible for the lighter footsteps, Puerto Rico, shivered, disliking the quietness and eeriness of the alleyway. Confederate had set him down a while ago when he was sure they weren't being followed. Speaking of which... Puerto Rico glanced up at Confederate. There was a thoughtful callousness to his expression that made Puerto Rico unexplainably uneasy. 

Puerto Rico looked around them suspiciously, talking in a hushed tone, "What happened back there? How were you so quick in taking over America's body? I thought you had to kill him, right?"

Confederate scowled, and Puerto Rico warily eyed him. Confederate grumbled something to himself before responding, "He wasn't there."

Puerto Rico stopped walking, a look of alarm on his face, "He... what?"

Feeling a prick of unexplainable irritation, Confederate growled out, "He wasn't there. He was gone. He escaped. I don't know how."

"Where is he then?" Puerto started walking again, at a quicker pace to catch up to Confederate.

"I don't know, and I don't care. He either destroyed his own mind somehow or transferred it to one of the states. He probably went to DC, actually, if I'm being realistic," Confederate grumbled, his eyes glinting slightly in the dim light.

Puerto Rico looked at the ground thoughtfully, "What does this mean for our plan?"

"Our pla- oh, of course, our plan," Confederate grumbled, casting an irritated glance at Puerto Rico. For some reason he couldn't explain, Confederate was in a really bad mood. Maybe it was the headache, or maybe it was the fact that Puerto Rico wouldn't shut up. Probably both, "I doubt the plan will change much. Whether America is alive or not doesn't affect you in the slightest."

Puerto Rico rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore Confederate's hostility for the most part, "No duh, of course, it won't affect me, but we both know it'll affect you."

Confederate paused, clenching and unclenching his hands for a few moments before walking again at a brisk pace, "It is not me."

Puerto Rico looked to the side, muttering lowly, "I believe that less and less each day."

Confederate narrowed his eyes, directing his glare at Puerto Rico, "I heard that, you know."

Puerto Rico sighed, "Please, just answer my question. If there's going to be a problem, as your ally, I deserve to know."

Confederate felt frustration build inside him. Logically, he knew that there was nothing wrong with Puerto Rico's concerns, but a voice deep inside him grumbled and hissed. Confederate blinked, widening his eyes in surprise. He glanced at Puerto Rico for a moment, before looking straight ahead, his lips forming into a grim frown. No, it wasn't him who felt this way, was it? No, no, these irrational feelings were it's. The lines between their emotions had become so blurred that Confederate couldn't tell between them, which is a problem Confederate will have to address later.

But why had they become blurred? In the mindscape, everything was focused, controlled, precise... but now everything was slipping from Confederate's controlled grasp like how beach sand would slip out of an open hand. What was it doing? Why was it acting up? Why was Confederate started to lose control over it?

... No, no... something was going on.

And Confederate didn't like one bit of it.

"There's not going to be a problem," Confederate replied coldly, trusting himself to keep it in check. "America is the least of our concerns. What we need to do right now is find some allies that can help us. We can't face Russia and the states alone, you know."