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Secret States Chapter 40

The Runaway Son (Wattpad | Ao3)

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California knew that taking her mother to see Texas was not going to end very well. Texas was stubborn and bullheaded, and they knew he would cause an argument if only to be in the right about their history together.

He was endlessly stubborn like that, hiding his feelings and true emotions under layers of his own ego, projecting an unbothered air in order to conceal any hurt inside of him.

It made a lot of people find him annoying and ingenuine, but California knew her brother.

He hides his heart in order to protect it.

Maybe if this had happened sooner, Texas would have been against it, still burning with hatred for his mother, who he called his oppressor.

But things had changed. Maybe Texas wasn't Catholic and wasn't ever planning on converting. Maybe Texas was proudly American as much as he was proudly Texan, but they had a lot more in common than Texas probably cared to admit.

California had just met their mother, and she could see that clear as day.

"Are you really sure that Texas will want to talk to me?" Mexico asked, her voice hesitant as if she were expecting disappointment. Knowing Texas, she probably was.

"You two need to start somewhere, and this wound has been left to fester long enough. If worse comes to worse and you two start fighting, I can act as a mediator," California said before reaching their brother's door and knocking sharply.

They knew he was in there and not in the human world because he had been causing a big ruckus earlier, arguing with Oklahoma about something or other.

"Fuck off!" Texas called. California smiled.

"Is that anyway to talk to your favorite baby sibling?" California asked. She could almost hear Texas' eye roll as he responded.

"Fuck off!" Texas yelled again. California laughed, turning to Mexico with a smile.

"Well, Mama," California began, projecting her voice so her brother would hear," I guess Texas doesn't want to talk to us."

California could hear Texas scrambling off his bed, opening the door. His shirt was rumpled, and headphones were hanging around his neck, connected to the old iPod he had jammed in his back pocket.

Texas straightened when he saw Mexico, running a hand through his hair and smoothing out his shirt.

"Hola," Texas said nervously, not making eye contact with Mexico, instead looking just over her head as if he knew that making eye contact with her would force him to confront some things that he wasn't ready for.

"Hola, Tejas. I missed you," Mexico said. Texas' jaw tightened before relaxing.

"It's been a long time," Texas responded. "I ain't gonna invite you into my room, so maybe we can head down to the living room?"

Mexico nodded. "That sounds good to me. Please…don't feel forced to have me. I want to talk. I want to set things straight, but…don't feel like you have to talk."

Texas nodded and began walking down the hallway. After a slight pause, Mexico followed.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Texas said, the apology a rare sight from the stubborn state. "I was caught off guard and didn't know how to react."

"I was surprised, too. I understand," Mexico said with a small smile, "You still have that old flag, don't you?"

Texas laughed, eyes crinkling as he smiled.

"My people were able to start with a good design. Had no reason to change once we re-adopted the flag," Texas said. California snorted.

"Yeah, but that doesn't stop your flag from being a discount Chilean flag, and don't you dare say Chile copied you because I know his flag was first, and yours was second," California joked before putting a hand to their chest, "Besides, you aren't the only state to keep the flag from when they were a nation."

"Yeah, you're right, Hawaiʻi still has her flag," Texas joked. California rolled her eyes.

"Haha, dumbass, I meant me," California said, glancing over at Mexico, who was looking at them with amusement in her eyes.

"I'm glad you two have had each other," Mexico said. Texas laughed, but there was sadness behind his eyes.

"We almost didn't. Did Cali tell you about how unstable they were when they first lost their nationhood?" Texas said. California rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I lived, so I think I won in this scenario," California said. "And did tell Mama. No use not being honest, especially when it's all over. Now stop trying to get out of talking about your issues with her by trying to bring up my issues."

Being weak and comatose like that had hurt California deeply. Even now, as one of the wealthiest and most influential states in the union, California suffered from fibromyalgia, pain and exhaustion haunting her.

But they would never regret the life they lived, and a little pain and exhaustion was a price she was willing to pay to live. Life was worth it. It always had been. Texas kept their gaze before breaking it off and looking away.

"Pa told me about your other states once. The original ones. When I asked if he understood why…why you had fought so hard to keep me when we fought, I could tell there was more there than land. Sorry for giving you hope you were getting your children back," Texas said, his voice soft. Mexico's face crumbled, deep, old pain flashing across it.

"I won't pretend like it didn't hurt…but I shouldn't have tried to hurt you in return. I shouldn't have…ignored you for my own wishes. I just ensured you would leave, that you would hate me. I had my own role to play in all that," Mexico said before pausing as if there was more she wanted to say but, at the same time, didn't want to say it.

Or didn't know how to say it.

"You couldn't have said anything to make me stay. Then, we were too different. All my people were Pa's, for the most part. I was more him than you. I was going to do something to rejoin Pa for that reason alone," Texas said, a rare acceptance of responsibility for him.

"The very thing that made you—both you, is what made you choose United States," Mexico said, before sighing.

"We have your people too, Mama," California said, trying to offer their best reassuring smile. Mexico smiled back.

"I still…I still don't know if I can let you be my mom again. I…there's a lot that I need to figure out. But…we can still talk. It's…helped," Texas said, almost hesitantly, a small, shy, genuine smile on his face.

Mexico smiled back.

"I'd really like that."

[weirdestbooks]

The Occupation Chapter 4

A Southern Meeting (Wattpad | Ao3)

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Virginia didn't like the Southern governors' meetings. He always got too many looks, stares from governors who believed him a murderer, and pitying gazes from his aunts and uncles.

Virginia hated it.

It was why he preferred to spend the meetings with Aunt Maryland, Uncle Kentucky, and Uncle Delaware, his uncles and aunt who had been on his side of the war, where there were no bad feelings, because they knew the division and never had pity or blame.

Uncle Delaware was normally early to arrive, as he hated being late to things, but as more of the states and governors filed in, Delaware and his governor hadn't shown up yet.

Dimly, Virginia began to think about something that Uncle Massachusetts had told him and some of the others before the meeting, about Delaware having concerns about his governor and things involving him.

Was something wrong?

Maybe it was Virginia's experiences being born to fight for the Union, being the state to replace the original Virginia, his mother, the one the South had loved so dearly…he had dealt with governors who didn't like you, or understand you.

It was never fun.

Virginia hoped Delaware was okay, especially as he saw Uncle Delaware's governor walk in without him.

Something twisted in his gut.

Virginia didn't like this.

"Hey, Aunt Maryland," Virginia said as his aunt and her governor entered the room, "Have you seen Uncle Del?"

"No, I haven't," Aunt Maryland said, before smiling at Virginia. "I'm sure he's just a little late. He's not always early, you know."

"Governor Terry is here. Del's not. And all Governor Terry is saying is that 'everyone from the state of Delaware who needs to be here is here.'" Virginia told her. Aunt Maryland frowned, looking more concerned now. 

"Okay, that is odd. But maybe Del is somewhere else, or arriving later. We won't know for sure until this meeting starts. Try to stay calm, okay?" Aunt Maryland said, her voice calming. Virginia nodded.

"Alright. But I still find it weird. Especially since Uncle Del hasn't come home in, like, a month. I'm a bit worried for his safety," Virginia said, keeping his past experiences with his governors secret. No one had known yet, and no one had to yet. Aunt Maryland put her hand on Virginia's shoulder.

"I know you worry, and you have a good heart. But your uncle can take care of himself. He's probably just busy right now, or you two have been missing each other when you are home. It's going to be okay," Aunt Maryland said. Virginia nodded.

"Okay," Virginia said, trying to calm himself. "Okay."

So he sat there, making conversation with his aunt as the rest of the states and their governors filed in.

All the states but Delaware.

"It looks like everyone has arrived. Shall we begin?" Governor Terry asked. The other states and governors looked confused.

Virginia's gut twisted.

"Señor, Delaware is not here yet." Uncle Florida pointed out something strange on his face.

"Delaware is unable to attend this meeting. He had business to take care of. But Delaware looked over things that we might possibly talk about and approved of any points I will make. Just so he could still have a contribution even if he is not in attendance." Governor Terry explained. 

"What business does he have to take care of?" Uncle Kentucky asked, the old lines of his face becoming deeper.

"We are not here to talk about Delaware, we are here for other reasons, like discussing laws to help keep order and other actions like that." Governor Terry said. Virginia frowned, not liking how Governor Terry was deflecting from the topic.

Something felt really wrong, and with what Uncle Massachusetts had said about Governor Terry not respecting or understanding personifications…had he tried to keep Delaware from this meeting, from his job?

"Yes. We are. If you are so concerned about your brother, talk to him after this." Uncle South Carolina's governor, Governor McNair, said. Uncle Kentucky frowned, but nodded.

"Shall we continue then?" Governor Hilton, Virginia's governor, asked. Everyone nodded in agreement, although some of them, mainly the states, reluctantly.

Virginia was still worried. The worry kept him from being able to focus on what topic was being talked about, as his mind kept coming up with worst-case scenarios.

He knew he should be focusing on the conversation, but how could he? Something weird, something dangerous was happening with Uncle Delaware, and everyone seemed too content to ignore it.

"…keep order in place." I heard Governor Wallace, Uncle Alabama's governor, say. Virginia quickly tuned back into the conversation, wondering what he had missed in his worry. 

"One should not underestimate how powerful a deterrent the whipping post can be and the sight of state police in riot gear." Governor Terry said. Virginia blinked. He had definitely missed something.

"So you aren't getting rid of the whipping laws?" Uncle Kentucky asked, something tight and painful in his voice, and Virginia knew his uncle's mind was trapped in the Hell he had been in during World War Two. Governor Terry shook his head. 

"And Delly agrees with this?" Uncle Arkansas asked, skeptical. 

"Of course he does. Like I said, everything I saw here has been pre-approved by your brother." Governor Terry said. Virginia exchanged looks with some of his aunts and uncles. Uncle Delaware would have never agreed to that statement. He's complained about the whipping law multiple times.

He hates those laws. Especially, in his words, some "enlightening conversation" with Uncle Kentucky.

Uncle Delaware would never support the whipping post.

So why is Governor Terry lying about Uncle Delaware's opinions and, most likely, location? 

"I think Governor Terry makes an excellent point." Governor Wallace said. 

"About Del supporting his opinion?" West Virginia asked, confusion in her voice, her brows crinkling, the familiar sign that his twin was confused.

"No, about the police and whipping posts being a powerful deterrent!" Governor Wallace clarified. 

"Are you sure Delly said he supported that?" Oklahoma asked, as if the states were all working together, in an unspoken movement to pin Governor Terry in a corner and catch him in a lie.

"Yes, I'm sure! Why do all of you seem to insist on ignoring my word?" Governor Terry said, his face becoming red with anger. Uncle Texas sighed.

"Let's just move on before we start arguing endlessly. If y'all are really so worried 'bout Del's opinion, ask him about it later." Uncle Texas said, a rare moment of him being a peacekeeper.

And with that, the conversation moved on. This time, Virginia was paying attention, wanting to listen to everything Governor Terry said. 

He knew his aunts and uncles said he didn't have to look after them, as he was their nephew and they were supposed to look after him, but…Virginia wanted, needed to know what was happening.

He loved Uncle Delaware. Virginia didn't want him to be hurt.

Something just seemed off about everything. Governor Terry seemed to claim Uncle Delaware supported a lot of things he's never supported before. It was worrying. 

Once the tense meeting wrapped up, Virginia watched as some of his older aunts and uncles got together, whispering under their breaths. Virginia joined them.

"Are we going to tell Uncle Del?" Virginia asked, knowing there was no way that they couldn't tell him about that, not with how wrong everything seemed.

"Of course," Uncle South Carolina said, "I have some money for a payphone, so I was thinking of calling him just to have him really quickly up to date, and any further information being told later."

Virginia nodded.

"Good. I don't like this. Uncle Massy said that Uncle Del was complaining about Governor Terry not listening to him, and that Governor Terry didn't understand countryhumans biology, so…it feels connected," Virginia said, wrapping his arms around his chest.

Uncle South Carolina frowned.

"That is worrying. But…I'm sure…" Uncle South Carolina trailed off, frowning.

"Governor Terry can't stay forever. We can keep Delaware up to date if need be, but things will work out," Oklahoma said. Uncle Kentucky didn't look convinced, and neither was Virginia, but he nodded.

"Okay. Are you sure he'll be okay?" Virginia asked. Aunt Maryland nodded with a smile.

"Delly's a strong one. He'll be fine," Aunt Maryland said.

Virginia nodded and tried to believe it.

[weirdestbooks]

The Weapon and the Spy Chapter 8

Upkeeping a Weapon (Wattpad | Ao3)

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The weapon needed repairs.

The weapon had been damaged by thoughtcriminials and needed to be repaired before it could be used to take care of threats to Big Brother. The mission was important, and the repairs were happening speedwise and would not be finalized until after the mission had been completed unless something more important came up.

An error message appeared in the weapon's processor, and it jolted parts trying to respond to the threat.

A weapon will protect itself from being broken if attacked.

The repairman held down one of the weapon's parts, awkwardwise holding his tool.

"False alarm. This is one of the repairs," the repairman said, and the weapon calmed, the error message fading as the weapon returned to repair mode, all power to its parts stopping so the repairs could continue unimpeded.

When a weapon is being repaired, it doesn't move or react, remaining still until completion.

The weapon could distantwise sense what was happening, but repair mode prevented any analysis or storage of the data until the weapon was taken out of repair mode without any further incidents.

The weapon stood, feeling how the repairs restored some of the pastwise difficult movement.

"Begin post-repair testing," the repairman ordered, watching the weapon as it began to test the repaired parts, ensuring everything was doubleplusgood and that none of the repairs would cause any flaws while it fulfilled its mission.

The weapon had broken down before after a failed repair job, and the testing became necessary to ensure that the weapon would never fail again.

The weapon unspeedwise moved, running through the motions and ensuring that every part could be monitored and recorded.

"Pause testing," the repairman then said, and the weapon froze, not a single part moving, so testing could be restarted when the repairman ordered it.

"How are the repairs? When will my weapon be back?" Big Brother's voice asked. The weapon's processor began to work again, as it always needed to be aware and ready in Big Brother's presence.

Big Brother had created the weapon, and it was incapable of ignoring Big Brother, no matter what mode it was in.

Big Brother is the weapon's owner. Big Brother made the weapon. There is nothing for the weapon without Big Brother. The weapon is nothing without Big Brother.

"The hardware repairs have gone well. I'm just running the tests now to ensure that the repairs will handle the stresses of being a part of your weapon. However, the weapon exited repair mode in the middle of its repairs, and I believe there might be a flaw that should be corrected," the repairman reported.

"I will take care of software repairs. Finish the testing," Big Brother said, their tone leaving no room for argument.

No one can argue with Big Brother. Big Brother knows all. Those who argue with Big Brother are thoughtcriminals and need to be taken to Miniluv.

"Yes, sir," the repairman said, "Weapon resume testing."

The weapon finished the testing to an approving nod from Big Brother that—

The weapon resumed its standby position, facing its creator and its repairman.

"The repairs are doubleplusgood for being done speedwise unless a problem has been made with the software issue," Big Brother said, turning around. "Weapon, follow."

Weapons obey. The weapon obeys Big Brother.

The weapon followed Big Brother to the refueling room, where it was ordered into the chair.

"I will prepare the weapon's mission info. The weapon is going to have a software repair session. The weapon will ensure that the repairs are doubleplusgood," Big Brother said. The weapon saluted to let Big Brother know it had understood the command, staring at the telescreen as it waited for repairs to begin.

Big Brother left the weapon's line of sight, and there were some noises from behind the weapon before the telescreen turned on.

"The weapon cannot move during repairs. During repairs, its processor is turned off and is unable to function. A weapon cannot leave this mode until ordered to by the repairman or Big Brother."

The words entered the weapon's processor, speedwise removing the weapon's ability to access its processor and placing it in the hands of the words, the words that were spoked in Big Brother's voice.

The weapon felt its parts disconnect from its processor as the words took hold.

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength.

"If the weapon is able to change modes without being ordered, the weapon is broken and in need of repairs. The weapon cannot function without commands from Big Brother. Big Brother is everything. Big Brother controls the weapon. The weapon can do nothing without Big Brother."

Freedom is Slavery.

Freedom is Slavery.

Freedom is Slavery.

"The weapon cannot feel pain, as the weapon is not a person but an object. The weapon cannot feel anything during repairs. If the weapon can feel, it is broken and in need of repairs. If the weapon's processor informs it of an error, it will ignore other commands in the Minipax building and report to Big Brother for repairs. If on the battlefield, it will report to Big Brother as soon as it is able."

Big Brother will always repair the weapon and ensure it is doubleplusgood. The weapon will obey Big Brother and be loyal to Big Brother.

"The weapon needs to be doubleplusgood and cannot be anything without the help of Big Brother."

The words were burned into the weapon's processor, echoing around the deactivated machine as the weapon stared at the telescreen, littlewise blinking.

The telescreen was then turned off, but the weapon didn't react, as its processor was still under the control of the words.

"Weapon, on," the repairman said, and the weapon felt the ability to access its processor open back up to it, the words still embedded deep inside. The repairmen then stepped in front of the weapon. "Weapon, enter repair mode."

The weapon's processor was turned off, and the weapon sat there.

"Exit repair mode," the repairman said, and the weapon blinked as it reactivated, seeing that Big Brother was now standing in front of the weapon.

"Follow me, weapon. It is time to prepare you for the next mission," Big Brother said, and the weapon stood up and followed, all repairs complete.

[weirdestbooks]

Secret States Chapter 39

Reunions (Wattpad | Ao3)

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Mexico was eager to have a proper conversation with their son again. The brief reunion was not enough to talk, to apologize, or to figure out where they stood in relation to one another anymore.

Texas was the first child Mexico had since…

Texas had always had a place in their heart despite their history.

Mexico just hoped they still had a place in his.

Mexico had expected it to be harder to arrange a meeting so soon after the UN meeting had ended, with certain idiotic countries through a fuss, and how United States hadn't been fronting for most of it, but…in some ways, Mexico supposed, they were predictable.

United States had sent them his address and told Mexico that their children were willing to talk.

Children.

Mexico had never known that the California Republic had a countryhuman. The nation had barely existed, and United States had taken command of that land so quickly that any reports of a countryhuman were just United States attempting to implement his will.

Mexico should have heeded the call, but grief kept them blind to it.

The 1830s and 1840s had been Hell on their personal lives with the death of their children, and when some of their children had begun to return, they returned as rebel governments that Mexico feared they would have to harm.

It had been horrifically depressing and lonely.

But even if Mexico had paid notice to the new countryhuman, what could they have done? The war had begun, and the United States had seized that region so quickly.

It would have only caused them more pain.

That didn't stop Mexico from wondering.

So they took United States up on his offer, nervously walking to his front door before standing there, anxiety running through them. Mexico could have laughed if they weren't so nervous.

They guessed it was just another thing they and Texas had in common. Mexico wondered if California had that in common with them, too.

Finally pushing aside the last of their anxiety, Mexico raised her hand and knocked on the door.

"Coming!" a voice called from inside. A slight crash was heard, and then the door opened, revealing someone whose flag was almost identical to Cuba's.

"Hello, Puerto Rico. I am looking to talk to my children," Mexico said, feeling unbearably awkward. Puerto Rico smiled, looking sympathetic.

"I don't know if Texas is here, but Cali is, and considering you haven't met her, that might be for the best. Gives you more time to actually get to know each other,"Puerto Rico said with a cheerful smile before waving Mexico inside. Mexico followed as Puerto Rico led her through winding halls before throwing open the door to a room.

Mexico began to hear someone yelling as someone, as their child, came to the doorway, yelling at Puerto Rico in a mix of Spanish, English, and some other language Mexico couldn't place.

California was slender, with dark black hair cropped close to her head, although that did little to hide its curliness. She had dark brown—maybe even black eyes, and animal traits—ears, claws, and teeth—bear, based on the flag.

California then met Mexico's gaze, and the curses stopped as she glared at Puerto Rico.

"You could have texted me," California said. Puerto Rico shrugged, smiling as he walked away. California rolled her eyes, before turning to Mexico, a nervous smile on her face. "Sorry about that."

"It's alright," Mexico said, a fond smile on her face. It was nice to see that California had the same fire as many of her siblings. California grinned, revealing the sharp fangs inside of her mouth.

"Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm California, she/they," California began before Mexcio cut her—them off.

"She/they? You're non-binary?" Mexico asked, wings pulling close. Their child was…like them. California looked annoyed before her eyes widened, and they gave Mexico a knowing smile.

Had…had California already figured them out?

"I've been out for a long time, and know for even longer," California said, "Glad to see it don't bother you, cause I would have told you to fuck off if it did."

Mexico felt a small bit of pride well up in their chest at that. It was wonderful to see their child more confident in themself than Mexico ever was.

"I'm sorry I didn't know about you sooner. I would have tried to visit before," Mexico said. California shook her head.

"No need to be sorry. I could have reached out too, but instead choose to keep silent like everyone else," California said before giving Mexico a small smile, "Maybe I could have done it sooner, but I was near comatose between the dissolution of my country and statehood. Didn't have a lot of an official identity to cling to, so I suffered through that. By the time I got statehood and started healing…talking to you was far from my mind. I had never really gotten to know you, so in many ways, it was easier to just be 'America's daughter.'"

"I'm sorry," Mexico offered again, unsure of what to say to that. Mexico knew they couldn't have saved California from that limbo, and if they retook California's land back then, they only would have doomed California, but a part of Mexico felt like they should have done something more.

"Seriously, Mama, don't worry. I don't blame you at all. Fate kept us from meeting," California said, walking forward and pulling Mexico into a hug, squeezing them tight. Mexico returned the hug, feeling grief squeeze at their heart.

"Thank you," Mexico said, feeling some sense of relief at that. They hadn't ruined things with another kid United States took from them. California pulled away, smiling impossibly bright.

"Are you going to stay to talk to Texas?" California asked. Mexico nodded.

"I have to see if I can set things right," Mexico said, their hand subconsciously lifting to cover a scar that they got so long ago, "I don't want to leave open wounds to fester."

"Texas will be willing to talk. We've all had time to grow, and Texas and you, from what I've heard from Papa, are a lot more alike than either of you will ever be willing to admit," California said. Mexico sighed, knowing that was probably true.

They also knew California had to be right and that things were at a point in time where they could change.

Texas had seemed willing to talk to them before. California grabbed Mexico's hand and began leading them down the hall.

"Come on, Mama. Let's go meet the world's biggest asshole."

[weirdestbooks]

The Occupation Chapter 3

Father and Son (Wattpad | Ao3)

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Governor Terry had been getting worse. Delaware hadn't thought it possible, but now an interaction couldn't go back without Governor Terry making a comment about Delaware's nature, without him trying to convince Delaware that he was being manipulated by the Northern states, or that his Da still had him under martial law.

The breaking point had been when he brought Delaware's mother into it.

"How would the real Virginia feel about that?" Governor Terry had said. Delaware had hit him for that, not caring about how the last one had been perceived, how it was only going to make things worse, because Governor Terry, who knew nothing of his mother other than the stories they had told, could not pretend to understand her.

Not to mention the insult to his nephew. Virginia deserved none of the hate for their mother's death. Mother had asked for that, and Delaware would uphold it.

Still, the attempted manipulation still opened wounds that hurt deep, and Delaware had left to his room in his father's house to find his mother's letter, and grieve.

He had cried a little, read back her last words and wishes, and then tried to pull himself together.

That was when he ran into Massachusetts, someone that he really needed to talk to.

After all, Delaware needed to get some things off his chest, and Massachusetts had gotten better at knowing when to listen and when to act, and he was always a steady listener.

In any case, Delaware trusted him for advice on how to deal with Governor Terry.

"He's really just a bastard who refuses to listen to me because he has his own ideas about how our biology works and doesn't want to change his beliefs because it would make him realize that not as many people support his ideas as he wants to convince himself," Delaware ranted with an annoyed sigh, glad to be getting some of this off his chest.

While he still didn't want to say everything, knowing that it was just going to prompt Da or Massachusetts to talk to Governor Terry, something that Delaware really didn't need right now, all of them knew what it was like to deal with humans that didn't understand them, and it was a woe they all shared with each other, as some of the misunderstanding could be very funny.

Unfortunately, since this was Delaware's governor, it was just annoying.

"So even though your job is to advise him about what the people he doesn't care because it doesn't match up with what he thinks the people want," Massachusetts said, before leaning back with a sigh. "It's not even the fun kind of misunderstanding."

"Mass…"

"What? Normally your politicians are funny. Like that guy who mailed himself to Queen Victoria. I expected something like 'oh he thinks we're demons here to eat his soul' or something along those lines," Massachusetts said with a smile. Delaware rolled his eyes.

"Not all of us were raised by Puritans," Delaware answered.

"Hey, I wasn't raised by Puritans. They didn't know I existed, and if they did we would have had bigger problems," Massachusetts said. Delaware snorted.

"Okay, Fight-the-good-fight-of-faith," Delaware said, laughing as Massachusetts' face flushed.

"I can't believe you were told that. Listen, we all made mistakes when we were younger," Massachusetts began, cut off as Delaware began laughing. "If I try to justify this you're just going to laugh more, aren't you?"

Delaware nodded and Massachusetts said, before his face became more serious.

"What are you going to do about your governor? Reelection's not for a while, right?" Massachusetts said. Delaware just shrugged.

"No, but I'm just going to keep shooting down his nonsense arguments and keep trying to explain. Maybe it won't change his mind, but I have a feeling if I start ignoring it he's just going to progressively get worse about it," Delaware said.

"Maybe Father could try talking to him?" Massachusetts asked, and Delaware quickly shook his head.

"There's no why that's ending well. He's blaming Da and the northern states for my 'unreasonable behavior,'" Delaware began, a mocking tone entering his voice, "and he thinks I should only be close to the Southern states because he likes their governments more, but again, he knows nothing of the actual personifications. He seems to think they all agree blindly and I'm just the odd one out."

"Yikes. What's his problem with us?" Massachusetts asked, to which Delaware raised an eyebrow. Massachusetts laughed. "Fair enough. That really sucks. I suppose he doesn't like that you, Jay, and Yorkie are such a trio."

"He thinks that we don't actually have family trees and we only use family terms because Da makes us," Delaware said, burying his face in his hands.

Sometimes, Delaware wondered if Governor Terry even believed Delaware was sentient. The thoughts were brief and faded quickly, certainly not something that Delaware was going to bring up to Massachusetts, as that was going to ensure that Massachusetts was going to visit Governor Terry, but…the feeling was there, in that patronizing tone Governor Terry used.

He talked to Delaware as if he were talking to a misbehaving child. As if Delaware was wrong to be annoyed at being treated as if he understood nothing about the job that he had been made for.

"Yikes. So he's a real piece of work about it," Massachusetts said, before giving Delaware a comforting smile. "I'm sorry you have to deal with that. Misconceptions are annoying enough without them coming from someone in a position of power."

"At least he can't do anything, just talk and talk, but I'm not going to back away because he annoys me. He's the type of person I don't feel like emboldening. Lord knows he would only twist it to mean that I trust him so much I don't feel the need to council him," Delaware sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, with any luck, no reelection for him," Massachusetts said, before looking Delaware over with a frown. "Are you sure you're fine?"

"I'm fine, really. I just needed to rant. He's really been frustrating me these past couple of weeks," Delaware said, a quiet sigh leaving him as he leaned against his father, before frowning.

"There is one southern state that he don't want me talking to," Delaware said, knowing that he had to tell Massachusetts. Beneath him, Massachusetts froze.

"He thinks Virgil isn't the 'real Virginia' and implied that Da and Virgil murdered Ginny," Delaware said, "I hit him for that."

"Good," Massachusetts said, his voice hard, angry, although Delaware knew it wasn't directed at him.

More often than not they were defending Mother's life and who she was as a person.

When they weren't, they were defending Virginia's existence. He never asked to be born, and it was a miracle he hadn't come out of the Civil War with more issues.

"He's just…one of those people angry about how the war ended, even if it's been over a hundred years, it seems. And I don't…he wouldn't do anything like what happened then, but it just makes me mad, when people don't understand that sometimes countries will change, and that's okay," Delaware said, not wanting to confess his other worry.

"And now you're worried he's not going to take the fact that you're a replacement well, even though that's a big part of your life and your history, and not something you have ever been ashamed of," Massachusetts said, understanding perfectly. Delaware nodded, before closing his eyes as he rested against his father's side.

"Exactly. It's just a lot of stress I don't need with everything else that's going on in the country now," Delaware said. Massachusetts began running a hand through Delaware's hair, expertly avoiding his horns.

"Well, looks to me like you could use a break," Massachusetts said, his voice changing to something soft and familiar as Delaware relaxed.

"I do, yeah. Just a lot happening that I could use…some time not worrying about it," Delaware said.

"Well, you've gotten your worries off your chest, and we both know there's really little you can do other than change his mind, so I think, if you're as tired as you're looking right now, that it is naptime," Massachusetts said, and even though Delaware wasn't looking at him, he could hear the smile in his brother's voice.

"That's the plan. You know I like my naps, and you dubbed yourself the victim when you asked if I needed to talk. This is all on you," Delaware said, burrowing as best he could into Massachusetts' side as the man wrapped an arm around him.

Here, Delaware was safe. Governor Terry's words and wants faded away, as Massachusetts' presence chased them away.

His father always meant safety.

Delaware smiled and quickly slipped off to sleep.

[weirdestbooks]

Wrong Reflection Chapter 25

Country and Human (Wattpad | Ao3)

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America was familiar with exhaustion. He suffered from insomnia, after all, and was very used to it weighing him down, making it hard to think.

But America had never felt exhaustion like this before. His brain was slowly fogging, and while America was trying to stay near James, that was taking all his energy, and he wasn't aware of what else was happening.

America knew James was talking to him, but he just couldn't process the words, mind addled from weakness and exhaustion.

"Finn!" James called again, his voice more panicked than before. America could feel himself being pulled to the front, and although he fought it slightly, there wasn't enough energy to fight back.

He was so…tired.

"What is it?" America heard himself ask.

"I need you to find your land bond and hold onto it," James said. Unsure of what his brother wanted with that, America went and grabbed it anyway.

His land bond had felt different since being here. Before…well, he didn't really know how to describe it, but before, it had been an ever-present strength in his life, helping him and healing him, a part of who he was.

Sometimes, America could hear it communicating things to him—the land's wishes, its warnings, its desire to hold him close and keep him safe.

It hadn't been like that in a while.

It was broken and frayed, faded energy that used to be strong.

It used to be alive.

Now, it was dead.

Well, mostly dead. America could feel the smallest bits of strength and life coming from Alfred's land, weak pulses going up the bond, but it was nothing like it should be.

Nothing like it had been back home in his land.

America clung to it, not really sure why James needed him too. The bond had been snapped. There was no fixing it, not without going home.

America tried to pull his mind from the fog to see what James was looking at, something that felt a lot harder than it should have been.

"What's happening?" America asked.

"We're trying to use your land bond to get home. Hold tight," James said. America nodded, even though he knew his brother probably couldn't see it and clung to the bond tighter.

America felt something brush against his bond, foreign influence, and America tried to pull it away.

"That's Arthur. He's going to find the other half, but he needs to know what he's looking for. Let him use it to find the other part," James said. America grimaced, fighting the urge to pull his bond back to himself, feeling the foreign influence brush against it again.

The foreign influence seemed to spark something in the broken bond.

Find your other half. Find the rest of you.

America could vaguely feel some sort of shift in the air, and something in his bond seemed to leap in joy.

The connection with his land wasn't back, the bond still broken, but it felt closer to the missing half, as if they weren't completely cut off from each other, but distant, still able to find each other if they looked hard enough.

Then, America felt it.

He felt the bond that connected him to his land, the bond that had been severed all those weeks ago, connecting with its other half.

The fog in his head began to clear as the bond reconnected.

America could feel joy and excitement coming from his land—from the bond. His weakness was fading as strength began to return to his limbs. It wasn't the only bond being repaired; America could feel his connection with his states returning as well.

Colorado's Love For the Outdoors, Minnesota's Care For Others, Michigan's Will To Keep Up A Fight, Oklahoma's Understanding of Others, and Texas' Ability to Overcome His Own Biases, they were all coming back.

It was like a balm to his soul, soothing and comforting, reminding him of the strength he got when he began a country again.

It was the feeling of home.

As the bond repaired itself, the fog and weakness fading more and more, America began to gain more awareness of his surroundings, voices filtering into his mind.

"America, was that it?" James was asked, repeating the words as America took longer to respond.

"I can feel my land, my states," America muttered. "It's being fixed."

Talking felt strange, with his being so consumed by the country side of himself.

"He says he can feel the bond being fixed, so I think… that's it," James said, no longer talking to America but to someone else. A part of America knew that he should be following the conversation, but he didn't feel weak anymore, but almost…he didn't know how to describe it.

His mind kept being pulled back to the bond, and America kept trying to do his part to repair it.

He needed his land—to be on his land.

America tried to take control of the body, but James wouldn't let him.

"What are you doing?" James asked.

"I need to go to my land. It won't fix without that," America said. He heard James sigh and continue his conversation with the others.

"America needs to get back to his land. He says it's being fixed but can't be fully repaired until he's actually back on his land, and I don't want to risk it any more than we have," James said.

"I don't trust the portal to be fully safe," America heard Alfred say.

When…when did Alfred get here? He hadn't been there before, right?

America's memories were a little fuzzy, and it was still hard to think with his land tugging at him to come home.

More distant conversation filtered in, but America wasn't paying attention to it, instead telling James how he needed to get back to his land.

The human side of him was being pushed away as his land demanded the country side of him come home.

Thankfully, the conversation soon ended, and America watched as James walked through the portal, his land bond singing in delight.

America's feet hit the dirt, and he collapsed, pressing his hands into it and feeling the land bond fully connect again. But there was still some distance, distance that was quickly mitigated as James pulled away from the front, letting America take control.

"You need this more than I do," James said. America nodded in response.

He was home.

America couldn't be happier.

[weirdestbooks]

The Weapon and the Spy Chapter 7

Safe Haven (Wattpad | Ao3)

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Traveling to meet with the others was one of the most stressful things that Ireland had ever done. He could feel the gaze of the cameras on him each step he took, how the eyes followed them as they attempted to disappear.

People didn't travel often in Oceania, kept poor so they were easier to control, and anyone that did travel was always watched more closely.

There was no traveling by night, leaving hotels when the sun was still down to hide from people. The cameras would see you, the Thought Police would catch you, and you'd be tortured back into compliance.

Or you would disappear.

The outcomes didn't matter. Neither of them could happen. Ireland would make sure of it.

Britain talked to the other constantly, and Ireland had been involved in a few conversations as well.

But Ireland had learned the game of survival, and talking freely, even mentally, while Big Brother's eyes were still on him was not something he could do easily. Fear and the desperate want to survive kept him silent more often than not.

Britain was disabled, unable to help.

It was Ireland that had to get them to the American rebels alive. It was Ireland that needed to do the heavy lifting.

So, Ireland refused to compromise his safety. He wouldn't risk it.

Ireland had survived too long to risk it while on the doorstep of a reunion with his family.

"Ireland? Do you want to talk to them about plans for tomorrow?" Britain asked, his power brushing against Ireland's head. If it had been before, Ireland would have yelled at him for the intrusion.

But Ireland had long since realized that Britain couldn't control his powers as well, as they as expanded so much. Ireland wasn't sure how much Britain had realized yet. He loved the man; he really did, but Britain didn't understand yet the way things were now.

It would have been easier if he did. Britain said he understood the stakes, but he didn't seem to.

Ireland could never blame him for that. The world was hard enough to adjust to when living it as it played out, watching as people disappeared and rights were stripped away, as the endless droll of propaganda began.

Waking up to a world like that…Ireland wouldn't understand it, either. Britain was, in many ways, a man out of time.

It was too dangerous.

It was so freeing.

Britain's ability to clearly remember the before was so important to the rebellion, restoring a hope and life to Ireland that he had left behind before, reminding Ireland what this was all for, what Oceania had taken from him.

Ireland could be angry.

But he would never condemn Britain for it.

"I've talked about those plans so much that if I do it anymore, I'm going to be sick," Ireland said, finally answering, nervousness clawing at his stomach. "I know what the plan is."

It was simple—dramatics only got you caught—meeting up, pretending like the messenger was the person they had come to see, and leaving to go back to the base.

Hopefully, the eyes watching them didn't continue to look once they disappeared. Ireland had heard nothing about the rebellion in Britain or the news of Britain being taken, but that didn't mean they weren't worried that it wasn't still happening.

Oceania hid everything. It was the only way they could keep their power.

"We're going to get there. We'll be safe," Britain said, probably sensing Ireland's fear and apprehension. Ireland exhaled silently.

"I know. I just…every good thing I have ever had has been taken from me. I know to expect the worst sometimes."

Ireland would always be hopeful that things were going to change.

That didn't mean he was wrong to worry.

───────── 𓁺 ─────────

Ireland hated being out in public spaces. Maybe it was years of hiding with a rebellion, but it felt like anyone who even glanced at them was a Thought Police agent waiting to drag them away and break them into more of Oceania's puppets.

So when the man approached them, Ireland tried not to tense, knowing it would only draw more eyes onto them.

Good citizens weren't nervous about Big Brother watching them—only thoughtcriminals.

And they had to be good citizens to get away with this.

"It's good to see you," the man said, his face unfamiliar. Ireland knew a human was getting sent to pick them up, any countryhuman too recognizable, and Ireland waited for Britain to signal that this was the man they were meant to leave with.

"It's him," Britain replied a few heartbeats later. Ireland let a small smile spread on his face.

"It's good to see you too. Thank you for offering to help me take care of my brother," Ireland said, slipping right into the role he was meant to play for this.

"I told you before, I will always be there for my cousins. Come, let's get him home. He'll get sick here," the man said, and Ireland grabbed Britain's chair, ready to head to the headquarters, hope rising in his chest.

The man led them to the more rundown part of the city, as even Oceania's perceived Utopia was not immune to the faults all countries had. Ireland loved places like this, as the cameras were more likely to be run down or broken, even as Oceania tried everything to cramp down on it.

But their empire was too big, and that would only be their downfall. While the masses could be brainwashed into their slaves through the propaganda and the schooling teaching them that that was all they could ever be in life, people would always slip through the cracks.

Even if it had to be in silence, in secret, dissent would thrive.

The man led them deeper and deeper into the slums, and Ireland watched as the cameras became more decrepit and broken until they reached a street that didn't seem to have any.

And yet Ireland could still hear the telescreens and the propaganda.

It figures that would be what Oceania would focus on.

The man led them to an alley, knocking against a wall, and a door opened.

"I can't take you any further; my job is here, but you just need to walk down that tunnel, about a mile, and you'll be there," the man said. Ireland glanced at Britain.

"Is he being honest?" Ireland asked, knowing it was better to check, just to be sure.

"He is," Britain answered before smiling, turning to where he probably thought the man was.

"Thank you," Britain said, and the man smiled.

"You're welcome. Always good to have more people like you involved," the man said before leaving, looking nothing like a rebel at all.

He was good at what he did.

Ireland grabbed Britain's wheelchair and walked into the tunnel, the hope swelling more.

After fifty long years, he was going to see friends and family again.

It was freeing after so many years of isolation from others like him.

It would be nice to pretend at normalcy for a little while too.

───────── 𓁺 ─────────

Ireland had been caught off guard by the hug, letting go of Britain, and initially about to attack the other person before he processed the face and pulled Nova Scotia into a tight hug.

"I thought you were dead," Nova Scotia said, her voice teary. Ireland smiled.

"I thought you were dead," Ireland said, pulling away from the hug and looking into her eyes, feeling tears well up, and he could see the same in Nova Scotia's. Ireland looked around the room, seeing so many personifications he had long written off as dead—Canada, American states, and it warmed his heart.

Oceania may have taken power, but they hadn't won. They were alive. So many of them were alive and free, and it was amazing. Nova Scotia then turned around and leaned down to pull Britain into a hug.

"You too, you old codger. You vanished so early, and…" Nova Scotia trailed off, "I'm glad you're…alive. How's my father?"

Ireland suppressed a wince, knowing that wasn't going to be a fun conversation to have with her and knowing that now wasn't the time, with everyone's emotions so high.

"Later," Ireland said, the sad smile on his face real, "Britain's still pretty weak, and Oceania was using his power pretty hard to spy on him, and he's still piecing himself back together."

"My head is fine," Britain said. Ireland snorted.

"Yeah, and your body looks like something I dragged out of a grave two hours ago. No strenuous stuff until we can figure out what Oceania's machine did. I pulled far too many wires out of you, and we never got a chance to check before, with it not being safe," Ireland commented, both to fill the others in a little but also knowing that Britain, now safe, away from the Soldier in a place Oceania wouldn't think to look and now out of sight of their camera, that they needed to check his health more.

Britain didn't have a good track record of being the most conscious about it.

"Oceania's what?" Canada asked, stepping forward from where he had been in the other part of the room. Ireland shuttered as he suddenly felt the connection with Britain vanish as the man's power took effect.

Britain's hands tightened on his wheelchair, and Ireland moved around Nova Scotia to place a hand on top of his, feeling the bond trying to draw them together flutter weakly. Britain's lips were parted as if he were trying to speak, but no sound came out.

"It's Canada," Ireland said, watching as Britain relaxed some. Ireland then turned to Canada, an apologetic smile on his face, "I can explain in a moment, but do you have a med bay I can put him in? He's gone too long for my comfort without someone who knows what they are doing looking him over."

Canada glanced between the two of them and nodded.

"I can take you do it," Canada said. Ireland winced.

"Could we have someone else? Britain isn't able to talk without his power, and I don't think he likes being cut off like this," Ireland explained, watching as the mask over Canada's face broke before quickly being put back on.

"Of course. Delaware?" Canada asked, and the state stepped forward with a nod.

"It's not too far. We keep it closer in case of emergencies," Delaware said, gesturing for them to follow him. Ireland took Britain's chair and did just that, breathing a sigh of relief when they exited the range of Canada's power, and he could sense Britain again.

"It's back," Ireland said.

"I hated that," Britain said, sounding more panicked than he had in a long time. "I couldn't speak or sense anyone; it was like I was trapped underwater, and nothing was there."

Ireland frowned, worried, exchanging looks with Delaware.

It sounded like Britain's power was making up for a lot more than just the blindness.

"He didn't realize. I'm going to explain things to them. Hopefully, that can prevent something similar. You're going to get looked at and checked to make sure everything is okay," Ireland said. Britain mentally snorted.

"I'm not dying, Ireland," Britain said.

"No, you just look like it, which is a bad sign in and of itself," Delaware commented as he opened a door. "Laurens, I need you to help Britain."

A shocked doctor nodded and walked over to them.

"He can't speak without his powers," Ireland said before speaking privately to Britain. "You'll be fine. If you can't feel me, I'm with Canada."

It was strange how quickly they had begun to need each other.

Ireland felt weird, stepping away and letting Britain be taken away by someone he didn't know, even if Delaware trusted him.

"Do you need a minute?" Delaware asked. Ireland shook his head.

"I'm fine," Ireland said, exhaling slightly. "But boy, do I have a story for you."

Delaware smiled.

"Can't wait to hear it."

[weirdestbooks]

The Shot Heard Around the World Chapter 58

The Colony's Victory (Wattpad | Ao3)

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And that's a wrap. The first fic I have ever written for countryhumans is done. This is the fic that inspired me to start writing, and it is crazy the journey I have been on, and I am so excited to have it finally done.

September 3, 1783

It was finally happening. After eight long years, the peace treaty was going to be signed and United States was going to be free, be independent.

It was an exhilarating feeling, even if they hadn't yet signed the peace treaty, as United States needed to pick up two people from their hotel rooms. Knocking on their doors, after almost six years of captivity, Nova Scotia and St. John's Island exited, ready to be returned to Britain.

"You could have left any day if you wanted to. Why didn't you?" United States asked, knowing the doors had never been locked and that he had given them both permission to go back to Britain after the first draft had been finalized, knowing Britain couldn't back out of his promises after that. Nova Scotia smiled. 

"Is it not the role of a country to hand over captured lands at a peace treaty?" she teased, her tone playful. United States laughed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes. 

"You're an idiot."

"And you're too stubborn for your own good," Nova Scotia said, walking over and pulling him into a hug. "Don't do anything stupid."

United States nodded, his throat tightening. This really was the end. His life was now forever changed, and he couldn't go back. He was going to be a country.

And he knew Britain would never let him see his family again for his betrayal.

"At least you have us," New Hampshire said, her voice gentle. United States knew she was right. No matter what, he had his states, he had James.

Maybe he would never have family the way he had with Britain, but United States wasn't going to be alone.

The thought soothed him.

"I will try my best, dear cousin," United States said with a smile, before holding out his arm for her to take, letting her walk alongside him as an equal even as he was about to become a country, become a person she wouldn't be allowed to talk to without permission.

"I hate that all of them are colonies. So long as Britain doesn't want us to talk, we can't. He'll still control that. Forever," Georgia said mournfully. And United States knew that. He knew that, and it hurt so much that Britain's refusal to listen ensured United States would never see them again.

They were going to leave his life forever.

At least he had his goodbye with Nova Scotia and St. John's Island. At least they could walk into the last room they would ever share together, together. United States knew Britain would hate it. Maybe that was a little bit of the reason as to why he did it.

Nova Scotia took his arm, and the two cousins, St. John's Island by his mother's side, walked to where the treaty would be signed.

United States shouldn't have been surprised to see Scotland there as he entered, but there his uncle was, fatherly worry in his eyes, a worry that would never again be directed at United States, because they would never see each other again.

United States hadn't realized he was on the verge of tears until James took a little bit of control and cleared their face. United States and Nova Scotia unlinked their arms, as St. John's Island rushed forward to hug his grandfather, Nova Scotia just behind him.

"I am sorry that you were separated for so long. I ensured they were treated well as best I could," United States said, ignoring Britain for now, knowing that his apology to Scotland was more important.

"Britain loves his family. He'll see that," Virginia said, her voice sad, as if she were feeling the same, painful emotions watching that reunion. Scotland nodded, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you," Scotland said, and the relief in his voice was clear. United States tried to speak, to say something else about how little he had wanted this, about how he had never planned for them to be prisoners, or even for his independence, but the words died in his throat.

United States knew it was far too late for that.

United States then turned to face Britain, bowing his head respectfully.

"I am sure that you want to let the rest of the family—" the family, not our family, because that relationship was good and dead, "—reunite with St. John and Nova Scotia, so why don't we make this fast?"

United States also wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to stand here without breaking into tears, but he wasn't going to tell Britain that, so it was better to give Britain a reason to want to leave.

"I'll take control if needed for your composure to be kept," James said, another solution for United States' aching heart.

"Agreed," Britain said, his voice firm, as he was clearly not over the outcome, nor the amazing deal United States was getting from him.

"He should have tried harder to give us a worse deal then," New York said, angry, "But he deserves it for the hell ships he put into my harbor."

Despite the anger and hurt and everything that was now between them in the room, United States signed the treaty, and then Britain.

After seven years, his father had recognized his independence, recognized that United States' land was no longer his.

In that moment, they both changed.

Britain became a few inches shorter as he lost all of United States' land, returning to the islands he still had.

And United States?

The new land between his old borders and the Mississippi caused him to grow a little, his clothes becoming tight in some places.

But that didn't bother him, not with the other change.

There was a strength that filled him, stronger than recognition, as if United States' land was no longer divided between two countries, but now wholly his, just his, no one else's.

The land was happy and excited, and it was all United States had to not cry and how his land wanted him, wanted him to be free.

Britain then left without a second glance.

"Goodbye, United States," Nova Scotia said, a sorrow in her eyes. Her father repeated the words, one final smile for United States.

And then they were gone.

United States…he was independent now, and…he was going to be a country.

United States was so excited for whatever the future was going to hold, for the times of peace he was now going to be able to spend with his children.

And yet, in many ways, he was also so, so scared. United States began to cry.

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The Occupation Chapter 2

A False Emergency (Wattpad | Ao3)

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August 4, 1967

Things between Governor Terry and Delaware had been very tense recently.

Governor Terry, much to his displeasure, had still been insisting on treating Delaware like a child. It was annoying, disrespectful, and grated at Delaware day after day.

Delaware was staying in the capital more, as Governor Terry was trying to get new riot laws passed, laws which would greatly increase his power. Delaware wanted to know whether or not they would be passed, although it seemed very likely that they would be passed. 

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Delaware was concerned, especially with how Governor Terry had been acting before. Something just felt…off about everything, and some deep instinct in his mind whispered that he was going to be in danger.

Governor Terry clearly had very different ideas as to how countryhumans worked, and instead of letting Delaware explain to him why it was impossible for martial law to continue, he doubled down, slowly making it harder and harder for Delaware to work with his government.

It was annoying and a little bit scary. Delaware knew laws would keep him from doing too much, but Delaware didn't like to be locked out.

Recognizing the spiral of worry he was falling into, Delaware took a deep breath and decided to go to his father's home. There was always someone there, and with any luck, Delaware would be able to find someone to help distract him.

Delaware prepared to make the jump to the other world, but as he did so, his bond with his land seemed to grow heavy, as if it were trying to anchor him back there, and then Delaware appeared in his father's home.

The following weakness was dizzying, as Delaware stumbled, black spots dancing in his vision, releasing a low groan from the pain that was beginning to grow in his head and soul.

In many ways, it reminded Delaware of how he had been when he was a child, when weakness overwhelmed him and made it hard to do anything.

Delaware, legs shaking and weak, tried to sit down, falling some as he did so, knowing from when he was younger that it was better to wait for it to lessen, wait out the worst of it.

The black spots were still dancing.

"Del?" Delaware heard Massachusetts ask, causing him to lift his aching head, nearly passing out as he did so, as it was too much for the dizziness in his head.

"Feel like…I did when I was a kid," Delaware said, closing his eyes, feeling his brother set Delaware's head on his lap.

"Do you know why? Are your health problems coming back?" Massachusetts asked, worry in his voice. But the sound of his voice just made Delaware's head hurt more, and he didn't answer.

"Wait," Delaware said, hoping, as it did when he was younger, that it would fade and weaken. It seemed to get better as he sat there in his brother-father's arms, and the dizziness faded some, not a lot, but enough that Delaware was comfortable speaking again, opening his eyes.

Massachusetts was looking down at him, and the concern in his eyes made Delaware feel warm, especially with the nonsense he had been dealing with from his governor.

"You feeling better, Delly?" Massachusetts asked, his voice gentle and quiet. Delaware smiled up at him, sitting up some, switching his head from being on Massachusetts' lap to Massachusetts' shoulder.

"Yeah, I am. Thanks, Dad," Delaware said. He did feel a lot better, but he could feel his land bond tugging at him, trying to pull him back home, and knew that it had something to do with how he was feeling. Massachusetts started to run a hand through Delaware's hair, and Delaware relaxed into his dad's side.

"Do you know what happened?" Massachusetts asked. "If it's your health problems, we should take you to see a doctor. Cali has her pain and fatigue that she's had for forever, and she goes to doctors."

"No, I know what it is. My land is…mad at me for coming here. It wants me to go back, and I think just…you know how hard it is to travel sometimes," Delaware said. Access to this world was rarely guaranteed, especially when there were things going on in your land. Apparently, something had happened that fit the bill.

"You should go back and check then," Massachusetts said. Delaware sighed.

"I know," Delaware said, not wanting to leave his father's side but knowing he had to. Delaware stretched, standing up and swaying briefly, before rightening himself.

"Let me know you're okay once you've figured it out, okay?" Massachusetts asked, standing up and making eye contact with Delaware. Delaware smiled back at Massachusetts before preparing for the jump, hoping it wouldn't disorient him any further, as he was planning on going right to Governor Terry's office, knowing that if something had happened, his governor would know.

Even if he might refuse to tell Delaware.

"I will," Delaware said, even if he knew that he might not be entirely honest with Massachusetts, not wanting to worry him too much over a terrible governor. They had all had terrible governors before, and this one wouldn't be the end of the world.

His stubbornness was just stubbornness, and Delaware knew he would laugh about the false and frankly, silly, ideas that Governor Terry had about countrypeople.

Delaware then brought himself back to his state, the dizziness catching him off guard, as his arms grasped around for something to keep his balance against. Despite that, Delaware was still trying to keep eye contact with the governor in front of him.

After all, he could feel how happy his land was to have him back, and the dizziness and the headache were quickly cleared up as his land and he reconnected.

"Governor Terry," Delaware said, his voice even and calm, "Has anything happened in my state recently?"

"You have had those horrible riots recently, of course, not to mention all of the terrible influence coming from the Northern states. Why do you ask?" Governor Terry said, sticking to his story, the one that he always fed to Delaware whenever he tried to do something Delaware disliked.

It was always for the better. Always on behalf of Delaware, regardless of what Delaware actually had to say.

"I ask because when I was trying to visit my family, I found that my land was not pleased with me leaving and was trying to keep me here, something that only happens when something is happening in my land," Delaware said, before standing at his full height, not caring how his ears and tail gave away his anger, "So as your state, I order you to tell me what is going on."

Governor Terry looked very angry at that, standing up from his chair. Delaware didn't break eye contact and refused to back down. But after a few seconds, Governor Terry seemed to fight down his anger.

"Due to concerns over the riots and the fact that more might break out," Governor Terry began, already growing Delaware's anger toward him, "I have declared a state of emergency."

Delaware couldn't help the laugh that escaped him at that. It was so, so absurd of an excuse that Delaware wondered if Governor Terry actually believed what he was saying.

"There's no reason to declare a state of emergency for that, and you know it," Delaware began, "You've ruined my day and sent my land into a state of panic for no reason."

"Just because you are not able to understand doesn't mean there isn't a reason," Governor Terry said, prompting Delaware to roll his eyes. "Everything I do is for your own good."

"And yet you ignore everything I have to say," Delaware said, looking down at his hands as Delaware picked at a fingernail, "Telling, is it not?"

"I am trying to be patient with you, Delaware, as I know you cannot understand the extent to which you are being hurt and controlled," Governor Terry began, and Delaware sighed.

Could he not let that stupid conspiracy theory go?

"Martial law is over, and my mind is my own. The fact that I do not agree with you is merely a sign of your popularity amongst Delawareans, not a conspiracy," Delaware said. He hated this, hated that Governor Terry was trying to claim that Delaware's mind was not his own, even as Delaware remembered every last bit of pain that he had felt when martial law ended, all of the feelings he hadn't been allowed to feel surging back.

The grief, the betrayal, and the overwhelming pain.

That was not something that could be faked.

"I am just trying to help you," Governor Terry said, walking around the desk and approaching Delaware, as if he were about to pull Delaware into a hug.

Delaware stepped back.

"What you think you are doing and what you are doing are very different things," Delaware said, hands tightening into fists as he tried to keep his composure.

Governor Terry stepped closer to Delaware, his eyes angry and voice condescending.

"Del—"

Delaware cut him off with a punch to the face before he had even realized what he was doing.

Governor Terry's eyes widened, and Delaware took a step back, realizing he had made a mistake, but also not regretting it.

"You don't touch me," Delaware said, "Not without my permission."

Governor Terry's face had twisted in anger, but Delaware was already gone, using his connection to his land to flee to his human house as he resumed his human form, already feeling safer now that he was inconspicuous, just another human.

There had been something about Governor Terry's eyes, something more than just anger.

Delaware didn't like it. Something was just so…off.

Governor Terry was growing to be more than just an annoying and overbearing governor.

Delaware…things were going down a route he didn't like, but what was he supposed to say? That he was paranoid and afraid his governor was going to try to hurt him in order to get Delaware to agree with him?

The law wouldn't let that happen, and no one would believe him, just think he was overreacting.

And Delaware knew it was just his past experiences in war that made him paranoid.

Governor Terry would be out of office by 1969. Delaware would be fine.

He could deal with this nonsense.

And maybe he could finally make Governor Terry see sense.

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The Weapon and the Spy Chapter 6

Familial Connections (Wattpad | Ao3)

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The journey to America had been strange.

Britain had never heard Ireland so quiet, as he barely spoke—out loud or telepathically—to Britain, only speaking when other people stopped by their small room on the ship.

It was…disconcerting, to say the least.

The world-changing was one thing, that was a constant that Britain had long since grown used to, even if this time, the world had changed for the worse, but Ireland?

Even as Britain's colony, Ireland was loud and outspoken, always making his opinion known. Ireland didn't care about the punishments Britain would inflict on him, or the threats meant to keep him silent, or the consequences of speaking out. Ireland always loudly stated his beliefs and swore daily that he would be free again.

But now, under the occupation of another country after fighting so hard for his independence and just getting it, Ireland was silent. Ireland's stubbornness hadn't been broken, nor his tendency toward rebellion, but…it was as if his voice had been stolen from him.

Every day on that ship, Britain could feel Ireland's fear. Every time Ireland had to speak, that fear spiked.

It was…Britain hated it.

Just what had Oceania done to make Ireland this way? To make this the way Ireland had to survive, deprived of everything Britain remembered making him up.

"We're about to disembark," Ireland said telepathically, his tone blank and empty, but Britain could still sense an undercurrent of fear and terror.

Britain braced himself for Ireland to grab his chair and carefully, as he had been lectured enough about it by Ireland, let his tight grip on his power loose, trying to get an understanding of his surroundings.

Ireland hated when he did this, wanting Britain to only keep open a way for them to communicate, but nothing else, as he was worried that after fifty years as a tool of Oceania, the man had developed a way to track Britain's power.

But it hurt trying to keep it all contained, especially with how much it had grown since the time before Oceania.

It didn't do much, as he could only sense people, but it was better than no sight, and Britain was starting to be able to separate everyday citizens from Oceania's secret police—Thinkpol—which was something he knew was going to come in handy since they were trying to lay low.

Then—

Britain furrowed his brows as something tugged at the corner of his senses. It felt familiar, and he began to look at it more before he felt Ireland's hand on his shoulder and annoyance over the bond.

"Stop it. Thinkpol's here, and we don't need you doing anything risky," Ireland lectured, his terror mixed with worry. Britain pulled his power close again, wishing that he had time to explore that tug.

Something about it felt…important, but he couldn't remember what. Britain's brain might remember before Oceania, but his power didn't remember as well, used to the well-worn grooves Oceania had it run in.

"I felt something," Britain said, knowing he had to let Ireland know, as the man was the only one of them who had any idea of how to navigate in this strange new world.

"Later," Ireland said before returning to his eery silence.

Britain sat silently as Ireland navigated them through the port, smog and a burning, acrid smell stinging his nose.

Britain tried to hold down the urge to search for that strange pull.

Ireland was right. That could be handled later.

───────── 𓁺 ─────────

Ireland was silent for the rest of the day as he navigated Britain to…to somewhere in the American city they found themselves in.

Britain had tried to keep his power contained, but Ireland's silence was starting to irk him, and the longer he went without investigating that tug, the more his brain began to panic about missing something important.

Because he knew that tug was important. He knew it.

Britain's wheelchair came to a halt.

"Ireland?" Britain asked. There was the faint sound of…a tv? A new report? Something of the like in the background.

"We're being watched again. This time through the telescreen. It's a TV, but it'll hear and see everything we say or do," Ireland explained. Well, that explained the noise.

The boat had cameras, too. Even without his powers, Oceania did their best to watch every single one of their conquered peoples.

Britain was beginning to understand Ireland's silence.

"Why a TV?" Britain asked, trying to focus on the words being said, as the TV—telescreen was quite loud. It only took a few seconds of listening for the reason to become clear.

"To broadcast their propaganda, of course. All day, every day, at all hours. Oceania's control relies on the population to be so brainwashed they don't know how to think," Ireland said, disgust in his voice and over their bond before he sighed.

"I am going to sleep. Let's get you to the bed," Ireland said, out loud this time.

A performance for the telescreen.

Britain had never taken Ireland for an actor, but Ireland was nothing if not brilliant at adapting.

Ireland prepared Britain for bed, pulling the covers over him before lying down next to him. Ireland remained still and quiet, but Britain could feel he was still awake, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

But, figuring he was as safe as he could get for the time being, Britain again released the hold on his powers, trying to find that familiar tug.

The tug wasn't there at first, and Britain's stomach dropped.

He had been too late. It was gone. The only thing left were the people in the city.

Britain let himself relax, not regaining in his powers, even though he wasn't looking for anything anymore, but just let them be free.

It hurt keeping them locked up that tight, even if he understood why Ireland was so insistent for him, too.

Britain let himself drift for a little, sleep escaping him now that he wasn't trapped in the constant exhaustion he had a few weeks ago.

Then he felt it again.

Another tug. And another. Two tugs at his consciousness.

This time, Britain went after one of them, latching onto the person that it was coming from and feeling shock, and horror, and fear racing down the bond.

Britain's gut twisted.

Had Oceania used his power to hunt down the people with the strange tugs?

"I am not with Oceania. I am fleeing from him," Britain said, not really sure if it was safe to announce his intentions, but knowing that the person on the other end couldn't track him after Britain broke the connection.

There was silence from the other end, but the shock-horror-fear had faded to a cautious, happy, disbelief.

"Father?" Delaware's familiar voice asked, something hesitant there. "How?"

"Ireland freed me. I only…I only just got to America and only just got enough of my consciousness to even be aware of what is happening around me," Britain said before realizing that revealing his location had not been the smartest move.

Ireland had been trying to keep him up to date on which countries had come under Oceania's thumb—whether willingly or because of Oceania's ability, which Ireland had been theorizing to be some form of mind control—and had lectured Britain extensively on not trusting anyone because they used to be friends.

Even family wasn't immune to that law.

"Ireland's alive?" Delaware responded, shock in his voice. Britain would have winced if he could. That was something else that he should have kept secret.

"Are you working for Oceania?" Britain asked, figuring it was best to be blunt, as the shock of the question would cause Delaware to reveal emotions that would reveal how honest his answer was.

The surprise-anger-anger-anger that traveled down the bond made Britain think the answer to his question was a no.

"That bastard murdered almost all of my family. Only a few of us escaped. I would never work for him. What about you? How can I be sure of your honesty? We know Oceania took you, and we know they have a way of twisting people," Delaware asked, performing his own test of trust.

Britain couldn't blame him, with the state that the world was in.

Instead, Britain forced his own emotions towards Delaware, knowing those were harder to fake than any words he could say.

Britain had anger, and confusion, and disbelief.

"Ireland started a rebellion in our islands. The rebellion made us come here so we wouldn't be caught. I was surprised there was no rebellion here, but…I guess it's not as active as Ireland's was," Britain said.

"We had thought we were alone," Delaware confessed.

"Oceania would want you to think that, considering they seem to have control over everything. Although…I don't remember much from my time as their prisoner. I wasn't lucid, as they were…harvesting and using my power or something like that," Britain explained.

"You should help us. We…we're not making any active moves, just building strength, and we've been hiding since they killed America and began their purge of the states. If you need to hide from Oceania, we haven't been found, and it's safer than staying in a city. Oceania, even without your power, is always watching, and if you really haven't been lucid, then there's no way you're not fitting in," Delaware said.

"That sounds nice," Britain said. He missed being around other countries, and as much as he loved Ireland, they were both exhausted from having to fight off the urge to fuse.

Britain…he wanted to pretend that things were a little less strange than they were.

"I'll contact our council. Contact me again in a week. That'll give us enough time to…ensure you're not going to hinder our mission and for you to not look too suspicious to Miniluv and Thinkpol," Delaware said. Britain blinked before remembering what Miniluv was. The new way some people spoke and abbreviated things still confused him at times.

"I will. Stay safe," Britain said. Delaware didn't respond; instead, he tried to make the bond less strong before his tug vanished.

Britain didn't like how that kept happening. But Delaware had said "we," and if Britain knew anything about the abilities of the personifications of North America, he would bet anything he owned (which was, admittedly, nothing) on the assumption that Canada was with them.

His powers not working on people he should be sensing could only be Canada's work. That filled Britain with the smallest sense of joy.

They were still out there. They weren't all gone or under Oceania's control.

It was as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders.

"Ireland?" Britain then asked, wanting to talk about his silent conversation with the state. But Ireland didn't respond, and a quick check revealed he was still asleep.

Britain guessed he would have to tell the other in the morning.

At least he felt tired now.

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The Shot Heard Around the World Chapter 57

Conspiracy (Wattpad | Ao3)

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March 15, 1783

My dear country,

I am afraid that I have terrible news for you. General Washington has learned of a conspiracy to mutiny over the delays in payment for many of the soldiers. While we are sure that the situation will remain well in hand, I am writing so you will be aware in case anyone tries to use this against you in negotiations. Rest assured, we have this all in hand, and the situation will be dealt with.

I know you will worry, but we will ensure that the situation does not spiral out of control. Do not try and make your way back here—you are needed in France negotiating for our independence, and we both know our delegations do not have much experience, and your presence will keep things stable.

General Washington has addressed the conspirators and we are this this mutiny will go nowhere, same as all the other mutinies men have tried.

I hope that negotiations are going well, as the Article of Peace from so many months ago must be news enough that our full independence and full peace are only a few days away.

Your obedient servant and aide-de-camp,

Lucas Miller

• ───────────────── •

April 23, 1783

United States hated mutinies. They had been a plague on him since his independence was declared, and it seemed they were going to haunt him until the end.

He also hated his financial issues. United States knew just as well as anyone that he could not survive if his financial issues continued. He understood where the mutineers were coming from, but…if they mutinied and succeeded, throwing the command structure into disarray when peace was so close.

"It could undo all the progress, if Britain saw that weakness and decided to take advantage of it," James said, his voice ripe with worry.

"It's okay, James. They seem to have it all in hand," Rhode Island said, his voice calm, but with his own undercurrent of worry. United States could feel the worry of several others, and he knew that he had to keep everyone calm.

"I am going to trust them," United States said, folding up the letter and placing it back down. "We can't do anything now."

United States hoped he came off as more confident than he felt. This really was the worst possible time for a mutiny.

"I know, I know," James said, before sighing, "I just really don't want anything to go wrong with the negotiations, and I don't trust your father not to try to pull anything when he finds out."

"It'll be okay," United States said, before putting himself together and exiting the room, ready for that day's negotiations and discussions.

It was becoming exhausting, but as independence became closer, United States couldn't be bothered by the exhaustion. It was all worth it to finally be free.

But it seemed, even with his attempts to calm himself, he hadn't been able to keep the worry out of his face and body language, as it was almost immediately picked up on as he made his way downstairs.

"United States? Are you alright?" a gentle voice asked from behind him. United States twisted his face into a small smile, turning to face his hosting country.

"I am fine, Madam." United States said, "Just dealing with some news from my country. Everyone is eager for this war to be over."

"We all are," France said with a smile. United States was glad when they were able to talk civilly. France had been very angry when United States began to create a peace treaty with his father without her, even if it was a violation of their treaty.

United States hadn't wanted to do that, but his people had decided it, and United States had gone along with it.

"We probably got a better deal with your father without her being involved. I don't trust her," Virginia said. United States knew she had a point, but it wasn't good to be risking his most powerful ally in this fight.

United States knew the only reason that he had won this war was due to France's help.

"I am glad that the treaty negotiations are at least going well. That should be a conclusion is soon," United States said. France frowned, something…strange about it, before she began to speak.

"I know that we have had this discussion over and over again, but I really wish that you had consulted me and stuck to our deal to end this war together. You've made things harder, with all of us having to negotiate our own deals," France said, still sounding very hurt over it.

"Tread lightly," James warned, something sharp in his voice. United States could have rolled his eyes. He knew James liked to worry, but France wasn't going to turn on him. She had every right to be upset that United States broke their treaty.

"You know that wasn't my choice. I wanted to stick with our treaty, but so many of my people, formerly British as they were, were concerned that you could not be trusted to help us make a deal," United States said, seeing no reason not to continue to be honest. France had been a country for much longer than United States had, and United States knew she probably understood.

"I know. I just wish I could have helped you get a better deal from your father," France said. United States shook his head.

"He's not my father anymore," United States said. He knew France had known about that disownment, as United States had been panicked over it for days.

It had…that had hurt so, so much. United States loved his father still, even despite everything.

"I'm sorry. I am still getting used to that. You had both been so close, and things really have changed. I'm happy, though, that you had the courage to do that. Britain is always…easily angered by perceived insults to his superiority," France said. James laughed at that, although there was something else there.

"She's not wrong about that," James said, before he sighed.

"My independence is close, and Britain is not able to do anything about that unless he wants to restart the war, and that's not something he is financially able to do," United States said, "Although I thank you for your concern."

"We have a meeting to get to," Massachusetts said, and United States felt his eyes being brought to the clock, even though he wasn't trying to do it, a sign that Massachusetts was trying to help him.

"You are my ally. It is my job to be concerned about your security and safety," France said. United States smiled.

"You are a good ally. However, I must get back to my duties and negotiations," United States said, giving France a respectful little bow, before turning to leave the room.

"I don't trust her," Massachusetts said. United States sighed.

"France has been a good ally," United States said. He needed to keep her as an ally if this war was going to end soon.

There was no use poking that bear.

Besides, France was a kind person. United States did trust her as much as a country could.

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The Occupation Table of Contents

Foreshadowing

A False Emergency

Father and Son

A Southern Meeting

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The Occupation Chapter 1

Foreshadowing (Wattpad | Ao3)

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July 27, 1967

Delaware knew it was only a matter of time. He knew it was only a matter of time before the protests spread to his state.

Delaware still couldn't believe that Governor Terry had tried to say that they wouldn't spend for his state. But then again, it wasn't a riot, not yet.

Hopefully, it won't become one. With Governor Terry's stance on crime, Delaware knew it would most likely blow way out of proportion. And that would be awful, both for his people and for Delaware, who would have to deal with it.

Governor Terry had already sent 1,500 National Guard troops to Wilmington, too, which seemed unnecessary and excessive, but still, with the situation, it was better to be safe than sorry.

So much had already happened in the past couple of hours so far. Most of it had occurred in Little Italy. Delaware wasn't going to get involved with it, though, not with the way things were now. He just wanted to see if there was something he could do to help and to make sure things didn't escalate.

Delaware didn't want things to escalate, knowing Governor Terry was just going to make a whole fuss about it.

Not that it wasn't getting too far already.

The worst part so far was that a mob of his people was threatening violence in a black neighborhood.

Delaware was avoiding that part of Wilmington, not wanting to make the situation worse. Even though a small, awful part of him wanted to let it happen, Delaware pushed that part down. He had let too many of his people be hurt in the past. Delaware had to move on; he had to be better; that way, his people could have a better future. 

If some of his people hated that, Delaware would do his best to ignore them. Delaware wouldn't hurt any more of his people. Delaware needed to be better.

So he would be.

Regardless, Delaware was still going to go to the club where that shooting had occurred. Thankfully, no one had died, but still, Delaware knew being stopped was awful and wanted to make sure the people there were okay.

Delaware still wasn't sure where he should stand on the protests, on the issues around them, but he knew that his role was to be with his people, and that was what he was going to do.

Delaware was a couple of blocks away when he suddenly felt hands grab him. Delaware began trying to get out of the grip immediately, struggling against the grip as his hands were pulled behind him. 

"What? Let me go!" Delaware said, turning around, expecting to see a protester or someone like that, but he never expected to see a member of the National Guard behind him, holding his hands in an iron grip. What was this man restraining Delaware?

The man at least looked apologetic, a small smile on his young face.

"Sorry, Mr. Delaware. Governor Terry's orders." the National Guardsman said as he handcuffed Delaware.

Governor Terry's orders? Is he serious? Delaware groaned.

Dammit, Governor Terry, do you really think this is necessary? Delaware thought to himself, gritting his teeth. Governor Terry was far too controlling, and it was annoying on the best of days.

"You can't arrest me!" Delaware protested as the guard held his arms and began marching him down the street.

Where was the guardsman taking him? Delaware wasn't even joining the protests, and he was too divided for him to even think of doing that. Delaware dug his feet into the ground, hoping to make this more inconvenient for the guardsman.

"We aren't arresting you. Just restraining you till Governor Terry can talk to you about your behavior." the guardsman said. Delaware rolled his eyes.

"Is he going to lecture me? Like I'm a child? I don't know why he thinks he can. He's a child compared to me." Delaware muttered, more to himself than anything. The grip of the guardsman on his arms seemed to tighten as Delaware switched to Swedish.

"What did you say?" The guardsman asked, sounding annoyed.

"Like I would tell you," Delaware answered, glad that he could at least annoy the guardsman until he got a chance to tell Governor Terry that this was unnecessary, annoying, and completely out of line.

Delaware didn't need to be restrained and treated like a criminal for trying to help his people. If they disagreed with Governor Terry, that was not Delaware's fault.

They gave him his thoughts, not the other way around,

Delaware still didn't know where the guardsman was taking him, though, as the guardsman marched Delaware through the city. It wasn't in the direction of the police station or any place Delaware thought they would restrain him.

Delaware's brows furrowed, and worry flooded through him.

"Where are we going?" Delaware asked, but he got no answer. Delaware scowled at that and began swearing in English, Dutch, and Swedish under his breath. The guardsman's grip tightened.

"Stop that." the guardsman said. 

"Oh fuck off," Delaware said, causing the guardsman to suddenly slam him against the nearest building, knocking his breath out of him.

Delaware immediately began to struggle against the grip, kicking the guardsman in the knee and causing his grip to loosen some. The metal of the handcuff bit into his wrists, and Delaware could feel his tail lasting, with his ears pressed tight against his head.

Delaware was more panicked now. Taking him to see his governor as if he were a misbehaving child was one thing, but this was another: a threat against his statehuman, something that was always seen as an act of treason.

"I recommend you learn to treat your superiors with respect." The guardsman said. Delaware scowled. Did this boy think that he was above Delaware, who was far older than even his eldest family members?

"Show me one of my superiors, and I will," Delaware responded angrily. That was probably a bad thing to say, as the guardsman seemed to get angrier and pushed Delaware further up against the building.

Delaware prepared himself to teleport back to the country world should the guardsman turn violent. He could report the man later, but now was not the time to risk his health.

However, the guardsman seemed to collect himself and pulled away, letting Delaware drop back to the ground. Delaware caught himself but stumbled briefly, unable to use his arms to regain his balance.

"Thank you," Delaware said as he tried to move his arms into a more comfortable position. The guardsman grabbed Delaware's arm and began dragging him again, although this time for a much shorter distance, stopping in front of a house.

"A house?" Delaware asked, turning to face the guardsman.

"Governor Terry wants you to remain here until he can talk to you." the guardsman said, taking Delaware inside.

The guardsman unlocked one of the handcuffs before attaching the handcuff to the wall on a little thing or something that stuck out of the wall and kinda looked like a towel hook, which kept Delaware handcuffed to the side of the house.

Delaware didn't like this all that much, but he knew he had his way out, and he really needed to talk to Governor Terry about the legality of handcuffing Delaware just to talk to him.

"This is unnecessary. And stupid." Delaware said, tugging at the handcuff. The guardsman rolled his eyes.

"I don't care." the guardsman said. Delaware rolled his own eyes and leaned against the wall, ready to start lecturing Governor Terry on how this was unnecessary and stupid. After a couple of minutes, Delaware heard the door open and saw Governor Terry walk in.

"You don't have to restrain me like this. It doesn't do anything anyways, and I can still leave if I want." Delaware told him.

"Then why don't you?" Governor Terry asked. 

"I want to talk to you. First, arresting me isn't going to stop me from helping my people." Delaware began.

"Your people, as you call those rioters, are misguided, and I don't want them misguiding you." Governor Terry said. Misguiding him? Was Governor Terry seriously acting like Delaware was a child? Sure, Delaware was short, but he was still about twenty-five physically, which was not a child. Oh, and Delaware was hundreds of years old. Not a child.

"Second. Stop acting like I am a child. I am old enough to be your grandfather's grandfather and then some. I don't appreciate it." Delaware said. He had had several governors who struggled with his age, but none had ever been as bad as Governor Terry was being.

"I am trying to do what is best for you. If you are so insistent on resisting that, then I will treat you like a child because it is clear you are in need of guidance." Governor Terry said. Delaware scowled.

"That's bullshit!" Delaware said, furious. Delaware swore if he could, he would have punched Governor Terry for that comment, even if he knew it wouldn't have made anything better. In need of guidance? For trying to help his people, which is the entire reason for his existence? 

"Speak English. You are an American state." Governor Terry said. Delaware rolled his eyes, imagining the horror on Governor Terry's face if he learned that Delaware had been born as a Swedish colony and had technically been partially adopted by his father, barring replacement weirdness.

"I said that was bullshit." Delaware spat. Governor Terry looked furious at that.

"You are not to speak to your superiors that—" Governor Terry began before Delaware cut him off.

"Oh fuck off with that 'I'm your superior' bullshit." Delaware started before nodding to the guardsman, "He did it too, and it's annoying."

"You will stay quiet when told not to speak." Governor Terry said, and didn't that make Delaware's blood boil, being reminded of all the times he had been in control as a colony, listening to Britain say the same thing.

"No, I won't. You aren't doing what my people want. Just listen to them and implement the changes they want, dammit! They want you to at least try and fix the poverty, fix the systemic oppression that has led to the police and the black community being at odds. Otherwise, things in Wilmington will only get tenser. New York—"

"No." Governor Terry said, cutting Delaware off, sounding furious.

"No, what? Are you not trying to help? Not trying to listen to the people who are being affected by issues in Wilmington?" Delaware questioned.

"No listening to northern states. They are idiots and fools." Governor Terry said. Delaware was shocked by that. Sure, some of his siblings could be idiots sometimes, but that wasn't an excuse to never listen to them. 

"No, they aren't! Sure, they may be annoying, but they aren't complete idiots. They brought up how those issues could be hurting the city, and I agree. It needs changing—" But before Delaware could continue the thought, he was cut off once again.

"You need to stop letting yourself be misguided." Governor Terry said. Was he seriously trying to argue this point again? 

"I'm not," Delaware responded.

"You are. You listen to the damn North and forget you are a Southern state." Delaware's fists clenched at that comment. Sure, some still considered him a part of the South, but the South had made it painfully clear multiple times that Delaware would never be considered a Southern state to them.

"The South made it clear after the Civil War, and more recently now, that I am not a Southern state, not in their eyes at least. I'm okay with that." Delaware was more okay with that. If the South wanted him out of their region, then he would happily leave their merry little group of traitors.

Well…most of them. Little Virginia didn't deserve to be caught up in their arguments. If Virginia told Delaware that he thought of Delaware as a southern state…maybe Delaware would be a little more willing to listen to him.

"So you want to be a northern state?" Governor Terry asked, something glinting in his eyes.

That, however, was a stretch. Delaware might not be Southern, but he sure as hell ain't Northern. Delaware went to point at Governor Terry but yanked the hand that was handcuffed to the wall, letting out a small hiss of pain. 

"I may listen to the North, but I'm not one of them. The point is that the North has good ideas to help improve things for—" But before Delaware could finish, he was cut off.

"They aren't good ideas, and you and the states who use them are fools if you think they are." Governor Terry said. Delaware was getting incredibly furious at Governor Terry for insulting his sibling, interrupting him, and being so dismissive of others' ideas and concerns. "However, I worry if these unruly behaviors are from that parasite the Union infected you with."

Delaware's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Are you talking about martial law?" Delaware asked. His civil war martial law had ended over a hundred years ago, and Delaware hadn't been under it since. What was Governor Terry talking about?

"Yes, that. I have always been worried as I have watched you drift further from your fellow Southerns, and I have always wondered if perhaps martial law—that influence—if it is as not gone as you think," Governor Terry said. Delaware scoffed.

"I felt when it ended. It's gone, and my mind is my own," Delaware said. Governor Terry just frowned. 

"I do not believe you are as willing as you say you are," Governor Terry said, and Delaware scowled, deciding to change the topic from this useless argument, as it would do nothing to change things.

"We have problems, Terry, and—" Delaware was cut off as Governor Terry grabbed his jaw, preventing him from speaking and forcing Delaware to look him in the eyes.

"You need to learn how to behave Delaware. I don't know why America is being so foolish as to let the northern states get away with passing such dangerous laws, but you and your people are under my control, and I will do my best to correct the mistakes your father made when raising you." Governor Terry said, his voice low and threatening. Delaware pulled his head out of Governor Terry's grasp, swallowing harshly, not liking this new behavior.

"You are my governor, but you do not control me. And my father might not be perfect, but he was still a good dad. You have a habit of talking about things you don't understand. You don't have the power or authority to 'control me.' I do what my people want, and if you don't like that, then that is not my problem. That's yours." Delaware said.

Governor Terry smirks. 

"Oh, not quite yet... But soon. Now, don't you start anything." Governor Terry said, his expression then changing to a pseudo-concern. Delaware's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What does that mean?" Delaware asked.

"Don't start trouble, Delaware. Just do as you're told, and everything will turn out fine." Governor Terry said. 

"And if I don't?" Delaware asked, hoping to get some sort of answer out of him.

"Run along now, Delaware. I have things to do." Governor Terry said, unlocking the handcuff.

Delaware sighed and pulled his hand away, rubbing at his wrist. That wasn't a good answer, but it seemed like it was all Delaware was getting for now. Hopefully, things would turn out alright, but he still had a nervous feeling growing in his stomach.

Delaware didn't like how ominous Governor Terry was being.

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Wrong Reflection Chapter 24

A New Kind of Magic (Wattpad | Ao3)

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Arthur had no idea what had brought Sam—Finnegan—and his headmates to their world. He and his brothers had gone through book after book, trying desperately to find a solution, trying to find even the smallest of references to something that could help Finnegan.

But they still had nothing.

And Finnegan was fading fast.

"Finn's can't front anymore. Please tell me you have a solution," Not-Finn declared as they stormed into the room, Francis on his heels, worry on his face.

"What?" Arthur exclaimed, feeling a sharp jolt of fear going through him. He wouldn't pretend like he knew anything about Dissociative Identity Disorder—that was out of his league, but with how panicked Not-Finn seemed to be…Arthur got the impression that it wasn't good.

"Who are you?" Dylan asked, causing Ciarán to shoot him a look, "What? I know that's bad, but we should know who we're talking to."

"It's James. Finn…he's feeling too weak to stay in control. He's near the front, but…" James' eyes became unfocused, and he paused.

"James?" Francis asked, putting a hand on James' shoulder. He blinked twice before shaking his head.

"So-sorry. But Finn isn't doing great. He says it's getting hard for him to focus because, well…he's lost his connection, and his being isn't taking it well. We need a solution now. Finn's the reason we have a body, being America and all, and if he goes, so do all of us, and I have no idea, despite Finn's insistence that it'll work out, if our world will be able to create a new America, with Finn here," James said, his voice was panicked, worried, and most of all, frantic.

"If Finn's so weak, then why are you…better than he is?" Ciarán asked. James shrugged.

"I'm a human soul. I don't have to worry about the missing connection that Finn has. I can last longer, but not if the body can't," James said. Despite his assurances, Arthur could still see the exhaustion in his eyes and frame. Maybe inside, James wasn't tired, but their shared body seemed to be.

"We…we haven't found anything. Not even a mention that could be useful. It's…I'm sorry," Allistor said. The frustration and anger that he held about the situation was obvious, and James' face softened.

"It's okay. We know you're trying, and we aren't going to blame you for that," James said before sighing. "I just wish we knew what caused this in the first place."

"We don't know what caused it. Maybe that's the answer?" Francis suggested. Arthur scowled.

"Now, what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Arthur asked, pressing a hand to his forehead. He didn't have time for Francis' nonsense, not with Finnegan's life, James' life, and the lives of everyone within that system hanging in the balance.

"We don't know what caused it, so instead of trying to find a solution, why don't you try to make one? You guys have powerful magic and centuries of experience. Surely you could make your own spell that would work," Francis suggested.

It was outlandish and foolhardy, and Arthur would have no idea where to even begin with something like that, but…they didn't have any better ideas.

"That could work," Dylan began.

"I'm sensing a but," James commented, crossing his arms and sitting down, shoulders unsensing as he did so. Dylan nodded.

"But I don't know where we would start. Maybe we can open a portal, but that's no guarantee that it'll take you to the right place or that it will be safe to pass through, not to mention I have no idea how we'd even go about opening one," Dylan continued.

"So, although it might work, it might be as much of a dead end as searching," Francis said, rubbing at his forehead.

"We've almost exhausted the books, though. I don't think searching is of any use to us anymore. I think…we should try this. Right now, it's probably the only option we have," Arthur pointed out. Dylan sighed deeply.

"Well, time to lose sleep trying to work this out. Hey James, do you know if there is anything that could be used to track your world down?" Dylan asked, not really serious; Arthur could tell.

But James seemed to take the question seriously, eyebrows furrowing together in thought. Arthur looked away, ready to begin a most likely headache-inducing conversation with his brothers before James spoke.

"What about the land bond?" James asked, his voice unsure. Arthur turned to James, whose face was still heavy with exhaustion but firmness in his gaze.

"Explain?" Allistor asked, his voice focused. Arthur, like all countries, had a connection to his land. Arthur didn't know how it worked for Finnagan's versions of them, but if James thought it could help…

They needed to try. What other plan did they have?

"Well, Finn's attached to his land, which I'm pretty sure is universal," James began, continuing as they nodded, "But we know that it's not just 'Finn is attached to his land and needs to be near it' but also that the land needs him. Well, that bond's been broken since we got here, and that's what's making him waste away. But if Finn's bond is looking for the land, and the land is looking for him—"

"We can find the other half and use the two to, hopefully, create a portal," Arthur finished.

"Well, I have no idea if this is going to work, but we have nothing else to try!" Dylan said, turning to James. "Will Finn need to front for this?"

James frowned, "Probably. It's his bond. We may share a body, but I'm not the one connected to the land the way he is. I'll try to get him to front, but Finn doesn't think he can front for long anymore, so you're going to want to be fast."

Arthur exchanged looks with his brothers before nodding.

"Okay," Arthur said, bracing himself, although for what, he didn't know, "We're ready."

[weirdestbooks]

i have request..

The moment/conversation where America realized that Gin n Mass had raised his kids? (or something of that sort)

He might’ve had a suspicion, but Mass n Gin truly had been mom and dad for like, a LONG while by the time they got bodies. And I think it would be interesting on Ame's part (emotionally)

also.. my bias towards Mass n Gin lol. but you don't have to if you don't wanna! I don't mind hehhe

Three Parents (Wattpad | Ao3)

United States had always known that his kids had relationships with each other before him. He knew that and was okay with that, because he had failed them and he had not been there for them.

United States was just grateful that they had each other, and nothing was going to change that.

But he was still dedicated to doing his best to be there for them now and make up for lost time, even as it hurt every time they turned to each other instead of him.

United States knew why, knew it was what they were used to.

It still hurt a lot.

But United States tried his best to accommodate it anyway. He knew he could not force them to come to him…and he didn't want to be like Britain.

His kids deserved the best, not more pain.

United States was walking through his house, wandering aimlessly, unable to fall asleep, checking in on his kids before moving on, just trying to find something that would help tire him out, when he heard his name being called.

"Father, I need your help," United States heard New York say quietly. United States turned, as it sounded like the voice had come from behind him, but New York was not there. United States looked around the darkened hallway, but could see nothing.

Where was New York?

"Yes, New York?" United States then heard Massachusetts say, and his brows furrowed in confusion.

Was…was Massachusetts responding to New York asking for United States? But why?

United States began to walk toward Massachusetts' room, and saw that the door was cracked. United States didn't want to come in, curious about what was happening…and knowing that his children were not telling him everything about their childhood, and so desperately wanting to know more.

"I had a…weird, bad dream. I don't know if it was a New Netherlands thing or not, but it freaked me out," New York said. United States' face twisted into a frown.

New Netherlands? But she had been killed before New York…was born.

United States' stomach sank as the realization came to him.

New York was a replacement. He was New Netherlands' replacement.

Oh, New York. United States thought to himself. He would have helped New York with this, not judged him for this. United States pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead.

He was trying so hard to be good for them. Did they still not trust him? He was dedicating himself to trying to make up for lost time, and he never wanted to neglect them.

He knew he had…but it hadn't felt like a choice. Britain wouldn't have let him be insane.

Britain would have made him forget again and again and again.

"Come here," Massachusetts said, and United States could hear New York climb into Massachusetts' bed. His heart hurt a little, as he wished he could have been the one that New York went to for comfort, that he could have been the one who knew about New York's past and could comfort him.

But it made sense that New York would go to Massachusetts, one of his eldest kids.

Massachusetts probably gave them someone they could rely on, alongside Virginia and James.

At least they had someone.

But who did Massachusetts and Virginia have aside from James?

United States needed to be more involved.

"Father, do you think I can ever tell Dad about this?" New York asked, and United States backed away with that final confirmation.

New York had been calling Massachusetts father. The pain hurt more than United States wanted it to, as he gritted his teeth and forced down tears.

United States began to walk back to his room, knowing that he needed to think this through alone, where he wouldn't make any more mistakes with his kids.

When United States got there, he sat down on his bed and began poking around for James.

He needed to talk to his brother.

No one else would be able to help the way he could, because no one else knew what had happened in those long years before United States had become aware of the others in his head.

"James, please, I need to talk to you," United States said, his voice pleading, wanting to get some sort of response. United States felt someone stirring and impatiently waited until he heard James again.

"Yes, Johnathan? What is it? Are you alright?" James asked. United States nodded before shrugging.

"I think I am. I just have a question," United States said, his voice nervous, as if he was going to ruin the relationships he was building by asking this question.

"Yes? What is it?" James asked.

"Is Massachusetts a father to my children?" United States asked. James was silent, and United States felt his stomach sink, even though he didn't want to feel that way, that he was happy his children had someone.

"He was the father, and Virginia was the mother," James said, and United States let his head fall, trying to force down any disappointment or jealousy, because he knew it was good that his children had someone.

United States hadn't been there, and they had someone, and that was great. His family had been close-knit, and they cared for each other, making up for his absence.

"I'm glad they were able to look after each other," United States said, trying to keep his voice even.

"Are you angry?" James asked, and United States quickly shook his head.

"No, no. I'm happy they had someone to lean on. I just hate myself for not being there for them, and I hate that my children had to become parents. They should have been children as well," United States said, feeling the jealousy and anger burn away into self-hatred.

"You should talk to them both about this. I think they love what they have done, but do not want you to think that they stole your role," James said. United States' head shot up.

"They didn't!" United States said. James then hummed.

"Then talk to them and make sure they know that," James said, before sinking away. United States lay back down in his bed and waited for the day to come.

───── ⋆⋆ ─────

United States knocked on the door to Virginia's room, smiling when she opened it.

"Hello, Ginny. Can I speak with you and Massy?" United States asked. Some emotion flashed across Virginia's face, and a pit opened in United States' stomach. He really hoped she didn't think he wanted to hurt her. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. I just want to apologize for some things."

Virginia seemed to relax at that and smiled back at United States.

"I'll go get him. Parlor?" Virginia asked. United States nodded, and Virginia walked off, grabbing United States' hand and squeezing it once before she did so.

"You're making the right choice," James said, and United States could feel his brother's pride.

It gave United States confidence.

United States sat down and waited there, fiddling with his fingers, waiting for his children, forced to grow too soon, to come into the room.

When they did, United States did his best to give them a soft smile.

"I know that you two have done so much for my children," United States began, standing up and walking over to them, "And I cannot thank you enough for that. But I am also very sorry that you were forced to grow up so quickly in order to do that."

"I'm sorry," Massachusetts immediately said, his eyes dropping toward the ground, his voice becoming quiet, "I didn't mean to take your role."

United States pulled him into a hug.

"I don't care. You took care of them when I couldn't, and I cannot thank you enough for that," United States said, feeling Massachusetts tremble beneath him, and feeling angry that Britain had taught them all to be so afraid.

"We didn't want you to think that you were not needed," Virginia said, still standing off to the side, his eyes also facing downwards.

"I know I made mistakes, but I am so happy that you were able to ensure that people feel loved. I cannot thank you enough for taking on the role that I should have had, even at the cost of your own childhood. My—our children can have three parents, three people there to support them," United States said, gesturing for Virginia to join the hug.

"That sounds great," Massachusetts said, his face muffled in United States shirt.

As he sat there, holding two people he loved, United States knew that things were going to be okay.

[weirdestbooks]

British Michigan AU Oneshot

The Last Piece of the Stolen Son (Wattpad | Ao3)

America didn't want to do this. He didn't want to have to sit here with Britain and negotiate a new border that would leave his son on Britain's side of it, negotiate a new border that would abandon his son, the son that Britain wouldn't even let America say goodbye to.

America knew he was going to hate every minute of it. He already had a deep-seated dread burning in his gut that made his body hurt.

And he knew Britain was going to take every opportunity to mock him.

At least he would have James to help him. James would not let him suffer and would help America.

America wasn't going to be alone for this.

"And Britain will be," James said. It only made America feel a little bit better.

Because America had support. But Britain had shown that he still had all the power. America would never be able to take that power from him or fight him.

This war had taught America that he was still that scared little colony he had been when his War of Independence began.

America straightened his back and felt James shift to help him. Before stepping into the room where the negotiations would take place, a map was on the desk, and his father was standing there.

"Hello, America," Britain said, and America swallowed down his emotions.

"Hello, Britain," America said, careful to keep his voice even.

Britain was a predator. You couldn't show fear.

Showing fear gave him power.

America couldn't give him any more.

"Well, we have some important work to get to, don't we?" Britain said, gesturing toward the map.

"I want to know what you've done to my son first," America said, keeping his voice firm. He needed to gain information about his son before he would consent to any border changes.

"I don't recall having custody of any of your children," Britain said, his voice casual but something lurking in his eyes, as if he were waiting for a reaction.

"I should have known he would have tried something like this," James said, before nudging America out a little, taking control. America let him, knowing James would have an easier time speaking.

"Really? Then there must be no reason for this meeting, and Michigan should be back safe at home when I return there," James said, his voice drawing and unamused as he locked eyes with Britain.

"Oh, you mean Michigan? He's Lower Canada's son, last I checked," Britain said, and James had to force America down, prevent him from taking control as America practically leaped into action, angry.

How dare Britain give his son to that bastard? How dare Britain take Michigan from his family? How dare Britain try to pretend that he didn't destroy America's family?

America felt his anger returning, replacing the numbness, as a restless energy filled him.

The worst part was the fact that he could not act on it.

He was forever trapped in the horrible silence of diplomacy.

"Funny. I think there are many documents to prove otherwise. If you are unwilling to have us settle the border dispute, you could have said so before dragging us out here," James said, masterfully keeping his voice calm even though America could feel how angry he really was.

James was a blessing.

James began to stand up, moving to the door, ensuring that Britain understood their threat.

Michigan might be in Britain's hands, but he was still America's son, and America and James would deadlock any negotiations until that was agreed upon.

They had to.

Britain had taken his son, but America wouldn't let him take away his son's identity or America's memories.

"You're really going to hurt negotiations over this?" Britain said, in an attempt to get them to come back. A part of America felt guilt, but the anger kept it at bay.

"I'm not doing this," James said, not even looking back at Britain as he opened the door. "You are. I hope we can return to proper negotiations when you are done throwing this tantrum."

James had thrown back Britain's words at him, and America wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry or scream.

America heard Britain stand up, but James walked out the door, and America let out a small laugh.

"James, that was amazing," America said. He knew it was not going to delay the negotiations for long…but it felt good to show that Britain didn't have complete control over him.

James didn't respond, but America felt their lips curl into a smile as the doors opened behind them.

"America!" Britain said as a hand was placed on their shoulder. James turned around to face Britain.

"Can we come to an agreement about this? Or are you going to lie to me as we try to make peace?" James said, his voice sharp.

"Let's talk about your border with your son," Britain said, practically hissing out the word between his teeth. James nodded and walked back into the room, sitting down at the table and looking down at the map.

"I believe that the Michigan-Ohio border should be kept as it is," James began, a point America and his people had decided was a firm boundary they would not cross or give in at any point during the negotiations.

That border would remain.

No matter what.

"Why so?" Britain asked. James shot him a fixed look, and America realized that he was going to be in the backseat for this meeting, unwilling to leave but unwilling to take control.

"Because it's an already established border that has been labeled and therefore won't cause any more fights and will smooth out this entire process," James said, keeping his tone calm.

America was glad James was here. He knew that he would not be able to handle this without him.

America knew he would break down and start begging for his son back, even though he knew he was going to sign a treaty officially handing over custody soon.

America hated it.

He didn't know how empires could do this so many times.

Maybe they really were heartless.

"I suppose you're right. So we should keep all the current borders as is," Britain said, looking as if he was going to leave.

"No. Just that one," James said, before tapping the map, "You're going to have this peninsula, the lower one. The other peninsula will stay with us. All of it, not just the part that isn't a part of the former Michigan Territory."

Britain stepped back and gave James an even look.

"Oh, I need that cause Michigan would just love to have all his land. It really would be terrible for him to lose his land to his own father," Britain said.

America knew Britain was trying to manipulate him, and he hated that it was working.

He hated how well his father still knew him.

"The government has agreed that you get to have Michigan and his main lands, but only if we are given the Upper Peninsula. That land is not connected to the land you have conquered, and therefore, you have no right to it just because of pre-existing boundaries. We only agreed to have the Ohio-Michigan remain the same for convenience and to avoid dragging out this peace treaty and any more possible conflict," James said.

He sounded and acted more like a country than America ever could.

America just hoped Britain wouldn't push too much. Maybe he had trouble seeing all the harm his father had caused him, all the lies he had been told, but he knew that his son was going to be lied to about that.

And he hated it.

"My government thinks that since Michigan is my grandson and will be in my custody, all land that is his should transfer, like when Lower Canada came to live with us," Britain said.

"We are not the Kingdom of France," James said bluntly, and Britain seemed to fight to keep a scowl from his face. "You are getting more than we want. You are getting my son. If I had my way, Michigan would be back home with me. Instead, you are keeping what you stole, and we are giving you more land than you controlled," James said, his voice still even and controlled, as America fought down tears and anger at the ever-present reminder of who he was giving away.

The son he was going to lose.

America began to sink away.

He hated the reminders, the pressure, Britain's presence.

He trusted James.

And he just couldn't watch this anymore.

It hurt.

Far too much.

[weirdestbooks]

The Weapon and the Spy Chapter 5

The Deadliest Weapon (Wattpad | Ao3)

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"Thoughtcriminals have taken Airstrip One. The weapon needs to make them all unpersons and return Airstrip One to Big Brother."

The weapon stabbed another thoughtcriminal, the body falling to the floor. It didn't need to take that one prisoner—the thoughtcriminal was clearwise no one of importance.

The weapon turned, seeing another thoughtcriminal trying to run away, looking back with fear in their eyes. That thoughtcriminal was made into an unperson, too.

There was no room for disloyalty in Big Brother's land.

Freedom is Slavery.

"Thoughtcriminals have taken Airstrip One. The weapon needs to make them all unpersons and return Airstrip One to Big Brother."

Big Brother's command echoed in the weapon's processor, ensuring that it would be unable to stray from its mission.

There is nothing without Big Brother. Weapons obey.

The weapon continued to attack any common thoughtcrimial it saw, not seeing any sign of a leader.

When it finalwise saw no more thoughtcriminials, it stopped waiting for further orders. Without orders, it could not move.

Weapons cannot move on their own. Weapons can alonewise be moved when their owners move them.

"Thoughtcriminals have taken Airstrip One. The weapon needs to make them all unpersons and return Airstrip One to Big Brother."

The weapon's handler walked into the room, looking over the thoughtcriminials the weapon made into unpersons before turning to the weapon.

"Any leaders?" The weapon's handler asked. The weapon shook its head, feeling…off-balance as it did so but not letting the flaw show.

Weapons will be repaired after battles, not during them.

"Get back to the truck. It's time for the next base," the weapon's handler said. The weapon moved, stiffness in its parts and blood dripping from its blade as it walked back to the truck, as people from Miniluv began to take away the thoughtcriminials.

The weapon sat down.

Weapons do not think. Weapons obey. War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength.

When it began processing the world again, it was in front of a plain house, looking as normal as any building.

The night was dark, and the street was quiet.

The weapon's handler was beside him.

"You know your orders," the weapon's handler said.

"Thoughtcriminals have taken Airstrip One. The weapon needs to make them all unpersons and return Airstrip One to Big Brother."

The weapon left the truck, walking unspeedwise toward the entrance of the building. The weapon had been made to deal with thoughtcriminials, even if it spent more time with Minipax than Miniluv.

Thoughtcriminials are rats. They scare easewise. To hunt them down, a weapon needs to be quick and effective.

The weapon didn't even bother opening the door, kicking it down and stabbing the first thoughtcriminial it saw.

Thoughtcriminals have taken Airstrip One. The weapon needs to make them all unpersons and return Airstrip One to Big Brother.

Make them all unpersons.

Make them all unpersons.

Make them all unpersons.

Weapons were meant to be covered in blood. If not, the weapon was ineffective. The weapon wasn't fulfilling its purpose.

Big Brother didn't make ineffective weapons.

Thoughtcriminals have taken Airstrip One. The weapon needs to make them all unpersons and return Airstrip One to Big Brother.

The weapon did not see any sign of Airstrip One as more thoughtcriminials were made into unpersons. The blade cut through them speedwise, and blood soon stained the ground as the weak groans of unpersons filled the air.

The weapon raised its blade, ready to get rid of another thoughtcriminal—make them all unpersons—before it was stopped by its handler's voice.

"Wait! Do not make this one an unperson. Miniluv wants to see if they can find anything about Airstrip One from it," the weapon's handler said. The weapon lowered its blade, keeping the thoughtcriminial pinned before Miniluv workers took them away to make into their unperson.

The weapon stepped away, standing still as it awaited orders.

"Continue now. This place needs to be cleared out," the weapon's handler said.

Thoughtcriminals have taken Airstrip One. The weapon needs to make them all unpersons and return Airstrip One to Big Brother.

The smell of blood continued to grow stronger.

───────── 𓁺 ─────────

Thoughtcriminals have taken Airstrip One. The weapon needs to make them all unpersons and return Airstrip One to Big Brother.

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength.

Thoughtcriminals have taken Airstrip One. The weapon needs to make them all unpersons and return Airstrip One to Big Brother.

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength.

Thoughtcriminals have taken Airstri—

"There's still no sign of Airstrip One?" Big Brother said, their tone deadwise, breaking through the commands echoing in the weapon's processor, allowing the weapon to process its surroundings again.

"No, sir, we have not found Airstrip One. We believe the thoughtcriminials, after the first raid, hid Airstrip One in order to prevent us from finding him. But we have taken thoughtcriminials captive, and Miniluv is helping them to realize their loyalties," the Miniluv agent said, his tone trembling littlewise.

"You will get the answers I need, and you will bring Airstrip One back to me," Big Brother said, their form shifting as they leaned down towards the Miniluv agent, who was now shaking.

"Y-yes, sir, I understand," the Miniluv agent said, scrambling out of the room after they were dismissed. Big Brother then turned to the weapon, their form changing fullwise, their tail wrapping around the weapon's throat and pulling it close.

"The weapon is going to make every single thoughtcriminial it sees into an unperson without any hesitation until Airstrip One is back where it belongs. And if the weapon sees a lead thoughtcriminial and cannot capture the leader, the weapon will ensure that the lead thoughtcriminial will not have a joyful time becoming an unperson. Understood?" Big Brother commanded.

Big Brother's voice had taken on a strange quality, one that made Big Brother's orders more powerful, allowing the orders to embed themselves into the weapon's processor with ease.

The weapon nodded.

The thoughtcriminals are a danger. Make them all unpersons.

Big Brother released the weapon, and it fell, almost falling over. But the weapon caught itself and resumed its ideal position, body stiffening.

Big Brother left the room, barking orders at someone else.

The weapon's handler entered the room.

"Into the chair. It's time to be refueled," the weapon's handler ordered.

The weapon obeyed and didn't move as it was reconnected to its fueling station. The weapon's handler took a step back, looking at the telescreen before looking back at the weapon.

"Off."