Work Text:
Many years ago, shortly after the chaotic violence of the Civil War, America had disappeared into the wildlands of the west. She’d gone many places to avoid her government and worked many jobs to keep herself afloat, but in the end she always found herself in the same places. Fortresses of trees as tall as they were old, grand mountains that scraped the skies and held the sun aloft, and lakes that stretched to the horizon and moved with the same grace as the oceans at her shores. Each gave her a kind of solace and solitude she had yet to find anywhere else, completely cut off from the world and the politics and the conflict.
One such place had been on the shores of Lake Superior, nestled on a cliff overlooking the freshwater and away from the bustle of the shipping routes and ports. America had built a small cabin on that cliff, and she often spent her hours staring out at the water, watching as light sparkled off the waves, and listening to the wildlife that lived deep in the woods around her. The cabin sat just along the border - mere feet away from her sister’s land. She could never figure out whether she’d done that intentionally or not. Back, then, she hadn’t seen or spoken to Canada in a little over a hundred years. In fact, she hadn’t interacted with any of her kind in what felt like a small eternity. Perhaps it had just been a way for her to feel close to someone, even if that someone wasn’t truly there.
Regardless, that had been a long time ago. The years of isolation had come to a sure end with the Second World War and amends for long-held grievances had been made with it. One of the hardest to mend had been her relationship with Canada, both because of the state they’d left it in and because they were incredibly stubborn and unwilling to be the first to admit they’d done wrong.
The cabin had become neutral ground for them, an in-between where they could meet without any fear of being disturbed, which soon turned into a traditional sisterly getaway. Nowadays, though, America looked forward to their holidays. Being able to escape the suffocating tediousness of her government was a rare opportunity that she absolutely loved taking advantage of at the most inopportune moment possible, if only just to spite all the politicians who irritated her. Maybe times weren’t terribly different after all.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it,” was Canada’s greeting to her as she parked her car in front of the cabin and got out. Canada was sitting on the front porch, rocking back and forth in one of the rocking chairs with a cup of steaming coffee cradled in her hands. She had come up the night before, eager to dig in before America had arrived early the following day.
America took in a breath of fresh air, letting the lapping sound of the lake soothe away the tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders as she walked up the creaky wooden stairs to the porch. “And leave you here alone? I’m not sure the cabin would survive.”
Even in the light of the early morning, she could see her sister give her a sardonic smile as she sipped at her coffee. “It survived you, so I’m not quite sure it could do any worse.”
“Ha ha,” America drew out, throwing her bag into the cabin and plopping down into the chair next to Canada. Her sister pushed a second cup of warm coffee towards her and adjusted the quilt she’d wrapped around her to fight off the early morning chill. “Very funny.”
All around her, America could hear the chirping and twittering of birds in the trees just waking up to the faint sunlight barely lighting the deep blue sky, and she sighed as the coffee slithered down her throat and pooled pleasantly in her chest. She had gotten a cup on her drive up, but there was something far more calming about drinking an early morning cup while peacefully sitting on a porch in the wilderness rather than desperately fighting rush hour traffic.
“How was the drive?” Canada asked after a beat of silence.
“It was alright,” America sighed tiredly. She had actually escaped late the night before, just after she’d texted her boss about being gone for two weeks and turned off her phone to avoid his reaction. A part of her itched for her phone, to turn it back on for just a second and lose herself to the mindless white noise of social media and work emails, but she resisted. The entire point of the trip was to spend time with her sister, to escape, which meant no phones and no work. She was sure her government would be just fine without her. It wasn’t as if she’d be missed much anyway. “Getting away was the hardest part. Everyone’s so eager for my opinion until it doesn’t line up with what they want, then everyone’s suddenly up in arms.”
“It’s been a long couple of years,” Canada answered, “and some things just never change. For better or worse.”
All America could do was nod her agreement. There wasn’t really anything she could add that Canada hadn’t already experienced herself. Politics had always been, and would continue to be, a precarious balancing act both women knew all too well, and it was also a forbidden topic on their retreats. They couldn’t really escape if they only talked about work.
“God, I missed this place,” America eventually said aloud, more to herself than to Canada.
Canada hummed, and both sisters fell back into a comfortable silence as they watched the world around them slowly wake up. By now, the sun has risen enough to light the bay that the cabin was overlooking, a scene that both had and hadn’t changed since they’d first started their retreats. The tree-covered hills and rocky shorelines seemed to be practically untouched by time, yet in the distance, America could see the bobbing of bright buoys floating in the water and the faint outlines of early-rising boats making their way out onto the lake. Even then, though, the modern world seemed far away, almost untouchable, and she felt entirely at peace. Calm. Centered.
And even though she didn’t say it, America knew Canada felt the same way too.