Give Me Liberty, or Give Me Death! (Again).

Chapter 3

(America's POV)

'What happened to me? One second I'm hunting with my mother, and then the next I'm disintegrating in front of my very eyes. Now I'm dead? Or am I just asleep? All I see is darkness, but it's not like before. I'm still cognitive and have thoughts. It feels like I'm at the bottom of an ocean, there's so much pressure I can barely breath. Is this a coma? Was all of the disappearing just a dream within a coma? No, it was too real to be that. I guess all I can do is sit here and wait for something to happen. Or do I make it happen?'

'I guess there's no harm in trying. Alright then!
Wake up..... Wake up........... Wake up!...............
WAKE UP!!!'
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(3rd person POV)

As America began to wake up, the pressure on his chest began to get lighter and lighter, and the darkness before began to brighten more and more, until it all goes white.

America shot up with a large gasp, startling Belarus who had just been watching him patiently.

America looked around at the room he was in. It was a... conference room? Many people were sitting around a large circular table, with America in the center circle right in the middle of the room.

America stood up slowly, wondering how no one has seen him standing in the middle of the room. He looked around at all of the people to sitting around him, until he found someone he never thought he would ever see again, his own brother. Matthew.

America quickly ran over to Canada and stood right in front of him. "Oh my God, Mattie I never thought I'd see you again, it's felt like centuries. Why do you have glasses? Who cares, I have so much to tell y- Mattie?"

America began waving his hand in front of Canada's face trying to get his attention, but to no avail.

"Mattie!... Bro!... Kanata!... KA-NA-TA!!! Are you giving me the silent treatment? Why are you ignoring m-." America tried to reach and grab Canada's shoulder, only for it to go right through it.

"Jeez, is there a draft in here? It was suddenly really cold, eh. Canada shivered in his seat and held Kumajiro tighter.

"Oh mon petit Mathieu, are you getting sick?" France asked as he put the back of his palm to Canada's forehead.

"No papa I'm fine, it was probably just a breeze or something."

America pulled back his hand and stared at it, now noticing that it was somewhat see-through.

"What. the. hell? What the hell?! What in the actual Fuck?!?!" America fell backward and landed on his butt, continuing to stare at his hand.

'I can't be a ghost right? I was with the ancients, they're not ghosts. But I can't touch anything, plus Mattie said he felt a draft. That is ghost encounter 101.

I can't be a ghost! I hate ghosts, I can't punch them. Wait, if I am a ghost then I can punch other ghosts! I guess that's a plus, but now no one can see me. Dammit. Okay, just to make sure, I'm gonna do a flight test.'

America tried to climb on the table onto the table, only to faze through it. After getting back up, he tried his hardest to concentrate on contacting the table. After a minute or two of trying, and continually fazing through, he finally manages to touch the table without going through.

In his excitement he goes back to Canada to see if he can touch him now, but as he goes to touch his shoulder again it just goes through and touches the chair behind him.

America felt disappointed that he still could come in contact with his brother, but inanimate objects was a nice step. This gave America a beautifully evil idea. With a mischievous look in his eye, he then proceeded to forcefully push the chair back from Canada, causing him to fall flat on his butt with a very confused look on his face.

America couldn't help but burst out into boisterous fit of laughter as all the nations stared at the now very embarrassed Canadian.

"Mon Dieu! Mathieu, what happened?" France asked as he pulled Canada up from the floor.

"I don't know papa, it was like someone pulled out the chair from me." Canada looked back at where the chair was, noticing that it was pushed so hard against the wall that a large dent had formed.

Canada pulled his chair back to the table and sat down, wondering who could've pulled it out from him.

America pulled himself off the floor that he collapsed to from his fit of laughter and went back to the table.

"You never cease to make me laugh Mattie, but now I have to get serious! It's time to fly!"

America climbed back onto the table, confident that when he jumps that he'll levitate right above the ground, no doubt in his mind. Right as he's about to jump, he hears a very familiar voice call out.

America turns to his left and sees a man that looks very similar to Germania. Based on the fact that he's seen his own brother, as well as France. That proves that he must be back in the living world. So that German guy must be one of the sons Germania talks about. Seeing as he remembers Prussia from the revolutionary war, he assumes that the man speaking is Germany.

As America observes him, he fails to hear what Germany is saying, too mesmerized by his resemblance to Germania. That is until he hears the last thing he wanted to ever hear again.

"Thank you Great Britain, you may take your seat. China, you're up next."

'Britain?!............no.......Great Britain? His empire still exists?! T-that bastard!! That bastard.'

America immediately jumped of the table and looked up at the podium ahead of him, and sure enough, there stood Great Britain, standing on a podium above every other country.

America couldn't even place what emotion he was feeling. It wasn't sadness, or disbelief, or even joy. It was just a blend of everything. Just white noise that left a ringing in his ears. As he began to register what he was actually seeing, any other blend of emotions had completely evaporated. He only felt one thing and one thing only, absolute, unfettered, rage.

As England walked down the podium and walked to his chair, America remembered all the pain, betrayal, and sadness. The feeling he felt when he first woke up in limbo. And that's when he finally snapped.

BRITAIN YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!!! I'LL RIP YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!!!

America lunged at England, drawing his fist back and throwing it directly at his head. Only for it to go right through. America tried again and again, concentrating as hard as he could to make it contact, but it just never landed.

"You took everything from me! You took away my mother! my freedom! my life! my country!"

America kept trying to punch, kick, bite, whatever he could manage to try and hurt Britain. But after a couple of minutes he began to tire out, both emotionally and physically. It was getting harder and harder to keep the tears at bay. Each punch making him fall deeper and deeper into despair.

"I know I'm here again because of you! You did something to me! I was finally happy and reunited with my mother and you took it away, again!!!"

Eventually America couldn't hold it back anymore, and fell to the ground and started to loudly scream and cry. Like a very distressing and painful temper tantrum.

"Maybe there is a draft in here, suddenly I'm freezing my bum off." England said rubbing up and down his arms.

"Honhonhonhonhon. I can warm it up for you if you want Angleterre." France wiggled his eyebrows at Britain.

"Don't touch me you bloody pervert, you seem to forget that I'm the superpower and can easily obliterate you."

"Oh I know Angleterre, that's what makes it thrilling."
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After China finished his own speech about the debts other countries owe him, all the countries took an hour long recess to get lunch. Leaving a still sobbing American and a oddly concerned Belarussian.
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Word count: 1386