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Pressing his fingers to his temples, the UN tried to push back the headache he'd been battling for the past three meetings today. Amber hues flitted through his office's drawn blinds, painting his thin frame a light purple. His beautiful tone was darkened by the frustrated frown cast over his face.
The tips of his wings flicked slightly as he realized he'd already lost, slouching slightly over a heap of papers that had to be read and filed appropriately by the day's end. Already on his fourth painkiller, he was quite surprised that he had even managed to hold back his headache for as long as he had.
Taking care of almost two hundred countries was no easy feat, but it was what he was made for, his purpose. He must keep the peace, protect his people. Anything less and he wouldn't be living up to his "angelic" title that all the countries seemed to have agreed upon, which he supposed made a twisted sort of sense.
What is an angel but peace with wings? UN chuckled at his weak attempt at a joke, then winced as the movement worsened his headache along with the other various body he managed to collect throughout the day.
He was their angel, created to swoop gracefully down and solve whatever problems they could throw at him. Of course, the whole world wasn't at the point yet where everyone could agree on what to give and what to take, or else he would cease to exist. Their bickering ironically kept him alive, an odd paradox that the UN would quietly accept.
He huffed, smoothing his light blue hair back and raising his hands up slightly higher to rest them on the laurel wreath that floated just above his head. The leaves were tinged yellow around their edges, mimicking his own degrading health. Thinking back to an offhand comment someone had made about them looking golden, loving the change that he had made to them, immediately made his stomach turn.
He stared blankly at the pile that only seemed to grow the harder he worked. Hands reached to grab a packet of many off his stack as he was interrupted by a bang on the door, too loud for his current state.
This type of interruption happened often, and like clockwork, the UN began his usual transformation. Hurriedly, he shot back up to his normal immaculate posture in his chair, straightened himself out, flared his wings, lifted his head higher, and put on his best attempt at a calm and grandiose disposition.
"Yes? You can come in." Spoke the UN in a soft, commanding tone.
The rest of the UN's sentence fell on deaf ears, since as soon as the word "yes" slipped past his lips, America had already invited himself in.
Large and imposing to many others, but only obnoxious to him, the star-spangled country strode in clutching a large manila folder while the UN dipped his head in recognition. He gave the UN a flashy grin, and the UN silently mused at the sunglasses adorning the smaller man's round face. The sun dipped lower in the sky. It was late, but apparently, the country's style had no curfew.
"Good evening sir! I have a few more documents that'll need your go-ahead before I can do anything with 'em." America puffed at the open folder he was holding, running his fingers through the twenty-or-so pages stapled together in it. He wagged the folder around, making a noise that wanted to personally antagonize the UN. Still, with a serene face, he answered.
"That is fine, I will document them accordingly once I have the time. When will you need them by?" The UN smiled gently, hiding the dull ache that throbbed harder each time spoke.
He struggled to keep his wings in check the longer the other man stood waiting, keeping them only to a small twitch hidden by the large desk in front of him.. Strangely feeling a small chill around his ankles, but oblivious to the UN's struggle, America continued. The UN observed America's usual smile fall to a more sheepish one, and he silently prayed it didn't mean what he thought it might.
"I'll need them by tomorrow-let's say, morning-if that's possible." America tutted and shifted a bit on his heels as he spoke. He knew it was extremely late notice, but in actuality, America needed those papers signed yesterday.
Thinking about what would happen to him if they didn't get reviewed by tomorrow was what pushed America to stop by the UN's office in hopes he was there in the first place. I am NOT dealing with an angry Brit...again. America tried to pull an innocent face as he looked back at the UN with anticipation. The eyes trained on America widened, apparently caught off guard by the other's brazen request.
He'd deny it to himself later, but America swore it looked like the UN deflated, his wings sagging. Seeing just for a second something in the UN's eyes that made America feel awful for handing him more paperwork as it was already nearing night.
Struggle is what he saw, and it frightened him. It seemed out of place on the handsome man's usually tranquil face, causing America to avert his eyes to literally anything else. He finally settled on the gold embossments that lined the UN's desk, following their lavish curls as they wrapped lazily around the dark wood. Cautiously, he tilted his head back up to meet the UN's gaze again, startled by what he was met with.
The look that America feared was gone, and only UN's serene smile remained, as if it had never happened. Maybe it didn't.
"That should give me plenty of time to finish it up. I'll have someone bring it to your desk when I'm done, okay?" UN questioned as America handed over his paperwork.
The concern in America's eyes, unseen by the other through thick sunglasses, was quickly replaced with relief as he shrugged off whatever peculiar event just took place in the taller man's office.
"Thanks, Mister Halo!" yelled America, enthusiastically waving goodbye as he made his way out of his office. He was tired after a long day of work, glad to finally be heading home. Much to the UN's dismay, America let the large door slowly creak and slam shut behind him.
The loud band of the door still ringing in his head, along with the sting of America's habitual nickname in his chest. he let the pain of the day slowly seep back into him. The UN sank lower into his chair, exhausted eyes leering at the now even larger stack of papers. The colors outside had taken an even darker shade since the last time he had peered out the window.
With only a small sliver of the sun peeking out over the horizon, UN clicked on his desk lamp, inhaling sharply as the bulb inside began its monotonous hum. Any ounce of composure he held drained from the UN as he groaned and tucked his wings around himself, trying to disappear.
Taking a deep breath, UN unfolded and attempted the return to what he was doing before being interrupted by the boisterous country.
Guess he'd be staying late again.
NATO stomped through the corridor, shooting daggers at the floor with his eyes. Another one of his plans of defense had been denied earlier in the day by majority rule, and he was getting more frustrated by the second as he fervently brainstormed alternatives.
The day had quickly become night as he scribbled his disjointed revision ideas on any free desk space available in his office.
Not feasible? Pft, I'll show 'em "not feasible" when I shove a gun up their-, NATO grumbled and slouched over his desk as he crumpled the paper he'd been writing on in his large fist. Anger reaching its peak, he swung his arm out, accidentally punching a hole straight through his office's wall right into France's.
Oops.
He had decided shortly after that a walk along the spacious hallways would do him some good, help clear his head. Maybe punch less walls.
It had been working, until something swept along the floor around the heavy steps of his boots, catching his eye.
Feathers? NATO crouched down to pick up the one that had first caught his attention. Large, pristine, and so bright white it almost glowed, he wondered who its owner was as he absentmindedly stroked it between his thumb and forefinger.
Poland, maybe? He dramatically pondered, humming and placing his hand on his chin. A display no one would see, but it made him feel like a detective. Couldn't be, his feathers aren't this white...Sorry, Poland.
The feather was soft in his palm as he gently toyed with it. Scanning across the floor at the others strewn about, he was surprised to see more than just the few that had distracted his march.
They seemed to be growing in number further down the hall he'd been walking in, some crushed under the many countries that had been walking through and had been too preoccupied to notice them, others blown over to collect in various corners and doorframes.
Curiosity quickly surpassed his frustration, and he began to follow the strange trail.
Growing increasingly concerned for whoever lost so many feathers, NATO's pace increased. In his mind, he imagined someone hurt. Not having wings of his own, he had no idea what dropping feathers exactly meant, only assuming that it wasn't a good thing.
Almost running by the end, NATO abruptly stopped so quickly his army boots squeaked as they left small black streaks on the marble floor below him.
He was now at their owner's doors. Only now did he feel like the conclusion was blatantly obvious.
There he stood.
In front of the UN's office.
NATO and the UN had had previous conversations of course, but nothing ever along the lines of their personal lives.
Strictly business, they'd talk during meetings, bouncing ideas around the room both between just them and the countries surrounding them. They'd even butt heads a few times over different ideas and declarations, NATO always vying to have the last word in their disagreements.
NATO never admitted to anyone but himself how much he actually looked up to the other organization, and thinking about him now made the color rush to his face. He shook his head, this not being the right moment for his thoughts to wander as he stared nervously at the intricately carved door in front of him.
Some of the bright feathers poked their way out from underneath the UN's closed door, seemingly prodding the anxious NATO to enter. Without thinking, he slowly pushed on the door, not even completely sure that the UN would even be in his office this late at night. Checking his watch, he noted that it was already 23:16, and had almost considered leaving until he heard a small sigh escape the slight crack in the door he had made.
Nudging the door open enough to step inside, NATO was greeted by a very disheveled UN. It felt like NATO wasn't looking at the UN at all, with him appearing to be the complete opposite of what he usually displays in their numerous meetings. Pristine, elegant, beautiful, the last one NATO would definitely attest to, even in the UN's current state.
The UN sat with his hands begrudgingly propping up his head, his jacket cast to his side on the floor, and pieces of tousled hair sticking up at odd angles. His bags looked darker as the small desk lamp cast an artificial orange glow over his body. His wings were held low and moved erratically, twitching vigorously each time he shifted in his seat. So lost in his work, he hadn't even noticed NATO's presence as the other organization stood apprehensively by the doorframe.
Not knowing what to do next, NATO decided on trying to get the UN's attention by clearing his throat. The sound scared the UN out of his drowsy stupor, and he all but jumped from his desk, wings flapping in shock, the gust of air they made as they moved strong enough to sweep the piles of papers he had been reading off the desk and all across the room.
Adrenaline pumped through him as he eyed up at NATO cautiously, sleep deprivation still clouding his mind partially before he realized who it was.
With deft hands, he reached down and snatched his jacket, slipping one arm into it as the other swiftly went to work on fixing his hair. His appearance soon returned to a normal one, albeit more embarrassed than usual. It was now his turn to clear his throat.
"Hello NATO, and to what do I owe the pleasure?" UN quietly said, grinning as he slipped back into a more presentable temperament. Stunned at the spectacle he had just witnessed, NATO stood mouth slightly agape until he remembered why he had come. He glanced at the white feather he was still holding in his hand, then back to the UN. The UN followed NATO's gaze, face dropping once he saw what the other man was holding.
"...Is that mine?" UN hesitantly spoke. His voice slightly quivered, chipping his façade. He hadn't noticed the feathers in and around his own office. Tracing his eyes briskly around the room, he saw them littered around him, some still fluttering gently from the draft he had provided earlier.
NATO dumbly nodded, his throat gone completely dry as he looked at the concern slowly grow on the UN's worn visage. He stretched one of his wings out, lightly shuddering at the small patches that longed for their lost feathers lying on the ground. Shifting his gaze away from NATO, he rapidly tried to blink away the glassiness that had snuck its way into his eyes.
"Ah....well then...", UN cleared his throat again, trying to save face, "Thank you NATO, for bringing this to my attention. I will deal with it all tonight before anyone arrives tomorrow morning." He paused before continuing.
"And please, keep this between the two of us." He added warmly. Internally, the UN feared what would happen if this had gotten out. Him, their angel, falling apart. He paled at the thought of anyone else finding and questioning the feathers in the halls as NATO did. There'd be chaos, and it would be his fault.
The military organization, confused, was still quick to automatically respond with a "Sir, yes sir, I won't tell a soul!" all while trying to awkwardly salute. The action appeared more like NATO smacking himself in the face to the UN, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards at the antics.
"Good...thank you.", replied the UN, "Now if you'll excuse me." UN moved away from his desk he'd been leaning on and began to hunt around the room for the stray pieces of paper that had blown around.
Snapping out of his daze completely, NATO silently offered his help, walking around the room and picking up the lost documents along with him. UN expected NATO to leave as soon as his curiosity was satiated, but him staying to help made the UN's chest warm. Usually the one to give assistance, and not receive it, he hummed at the pleasant change of pace.
The atmosphere in the room, however, seemed tense to NATO, and the silence was killing him. He still hadn't even figured out what the UN losing feathers meant to his health.
"So, uh, what caused you to drop 'em?" He started, placing a stack he'd already gathered down on the desk. "Is it a private thing? You don't have to say, if you don't want to!" NATO flushed and tripped on his own words, eliciting a small chuckle from the UN, which in turn caused the other's face to burn even hotter.
UN sensed no harm in telling him, he felt authentic concern in the other man's voice. He could make it brief, to displace NATO's uneasy thoughts. Plus, he's the only one that had seemed to notice and desire to discuss any part of the UN's pain. Maybe it was an organizations thing, and they were automatically closer?
He supposed that made sense, although he ignored the fact he only felt this way with NATO.
The UN sighed, "It's stress...birds lose their feathers when they're stressed." He feebly laughed while stooping down to pick up another piece of paper, wondering if NATO would prod any further, not being able to decide if he'd prefer him to or not. Solemnness passed over the UN's countenance, and NATO had no clue how to console him. He had been trained to deal with physical wounds, not mental ones, he was at a complete loss.
Awkwardly shuffling around the new bunch of collected papers in his hands, NATO thought to try and lighten the mood by cracking a joke.
"Hey, that should be no problem for an angel though, right?" NATO snickered, only stopping when he glanced over at the UN to find him frozen, arm still reaching out to grab a paper that had made its way beneath his desk.
Something inside him had broken.
"DON'T CALL ME AN ANGEL!", UN shouted, springing up and slamming his fist down onto his desk. NATO stepped back, startled by his sudden movement.
UN's wings flared out even higher than they had been when NATO caught him by surprise, a sharp rage in his eyes.
"Don't call me something I am not! Do you see these wings?" UN asked, stretching them so far out they made his back hurt, skin tearing where feathers met cyan skin. Hissing from the pain, he continued. "These are DOVE wings, not a FUCKING angels, you're all comparing a PIDGEON to a PROPHET!" His blood felt like it was boiling, but he didn't care anymore. Restrained feelings finally broke their chains and tore into the UN.
"Do you think I ever wanted to be an angel?! I didn't want ANY OF THIS!" He screamed out, throat sore from the unfamiliar strain.
The longer he stood, the more his seething turned to soft crying. Sliding down onto the floor near his desk, UN brought his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms around his face, ducking his head into them. Fresh tears from a mix of embarrassment, sadness, and anger dripped from his eyes and down onto his slacks. He hated the thought of NATO seeing him like this, and with a move of his wings, he curled them around himself, blocking NATO's view.
"Please...", UN cried, "I'm not anyone's angel....just...leave." His voice was muffled as he talked through the many layers he'd used to hide.
Any country would've taken that as their chance to run, but this was NATO. He couldn't bear seeing someone he cared for in any sort of distress, especially the UN, and especially since he seemed to have brushed a very raw nerve. He wracked his brain for a viable solution. The gears turning in his head were almost audible in the large room before he nodded sharply and took in a deep breath, decision made.
Hoping he was making the right one, NATO stepped closer to the trembling figure in front of him, trying to be as quiet as possible. Kneeling down, he leaned closer to the UN's side and brought the other into his arms, delicately making his way past UN's folded legs and the feathery barricade he had created. NATO noticed the UN tense, and he mentally chided himself for making the wrong choice.
But before he could pull away and apologize, he felt smaller arms tentatively snake themselves around NATO's torso. The UN's wings opened wider as he shifted his body to rest his head on NATO's chest. Soft cries turned into deeper sobs as UN squeezed his arms tightly around the comforting figure.
NATO rubbed gentle circles into the other's back, avoiding the sensitive spots where the UN had ripped his own skin. A patch of NATO's army jacket near his collarbone dampened as UN buried himself deeper in his strong embrace. The sounds of the UN's cries and NATO's faint soothing filled the quiet office, and time seemed slow between them. Soon, heavy sobs turned into gentle cries, then finally to a tiny sniffle. The tight grip the UN had on NATO slackened, and through his hoarse throat, he spoke.
"I'm sorry you had to see me like this." The UN choked out between shallow breaths. He laughed dryly, "This is my fault, it's all my fault."
NATO was quick to rebuke the shivering man. "Don't tell yourself that...what you do every day, I couldn't imagine being in your shoes. You've got the toughest job outta all of us."
"You say that as if you don't also have a difficult job," UN replied, sniffles dying down. NATO clicked his tongue and rested his head on the top of the UN's, careful to avoid his dry laurels.
"War is all too easy, it's peace that's hard." NATO sighed, "And you're right. You're not an angel, contrary to popular belief, you're an organization just like me. And if I wasn't sure about it before, I am now, I'm sorry. Please, let me help you." The UN was taken aback by the other's kind words. Tears of relief now pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he felt like he could breathe easier with someone to share his pain.
A lightbulb went off in NATO's head. "Here! You wait right there!", he spoke as he shot up and helped the UN to his feet. He bolted out of the office, leaving a puzzled UN staring at the doorway NATO had dipped away into. NATO returned as fast as he had left, breathing heavily and clutching a chair in his arms. The UN tried and failed at suppressing a laugh at the sight.
"You know I keep extra chairs tucked away here, right? Where did you even get that?" UN questioned, still smirking.
"...Y'know...around..." NATO rubbed the back of his neck and avoided the question, too embarrassed to admit that he ran all the way back to his own office to grab his chair.
"Anyways, I said I'd give you my help, and I meant it." NATO brought his chair up next to the UN's, plopping himself down into it while he reached for the stack of papers he previously had on the desk, taking one off the top. "C'mon, I'm not leaving 'til we're done. And don't you go thinking this'll be the last time I do this for ya." He looked up at the UN, who was still standing, with expectant eyes. The UN's heart fluttered as he sat down next to NATO, whose eyes were already back to squinting at the document he had grabbed.
Grunting annoyedly, NATO pulled a small pair of reading glasses out of one of his pockets. Once they adorned his face, UN giggled at how soft they made the usually tough-as-nails organization look. NATO quickly saw his reaction, blushing as he scoffed and rolled his eyes. A comfortable silence fell over them as they began their individual paperwork, some casual conversation dotted throughout. In an hour's time, they were almost finished.
"...NATO?" UN spoke up after laughing at a particularly crude joke NATO had quipped. He dared his hand to reach out and intertwine itself with the other man's.
"Y-yeah?" NATO replied, heat rising to his cheeks at UN's action. He gently squeezed his hand, waiting for a response.
"Thank you."