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America took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. He definitely needed to, considering who he meeting. His bruise throbbed at the reminder, and USA quickly schooled his face back into neutrality. He mentally scolded himself for letting slip of his control. Sure, the bruise had hurt, but the President had only kicked him in the stomach!. … 3 times technically, but semantics. The point was that he had suffered worse, and he could live with a small bruise. …And the other one on his arm.
He had promised to Canada that he would take care of himself, but that promise didn't matter anymore, did it? He doubted Canada would even care if he broke another promise, let alone think of America as his own brother now.
The thought of Canada and Mexico hating him made his chest feel tight, a reminder of all that he had lost. He grit his teeth, reminding himself that the President had already been waiting for too long. If he didn't want another bruise to match, he might as well hurry.
He pushed open the doors silently, and made his way over to the desk.
"You called me, sir?" he asked, making sure his back was ram-rod straight. He had long ago realized that the President craved respect. And power of course. Keyword was craved. While America kept those thoughts to himself, (No he was not an idiot nor was he looking to get hit) because he didn't want to deal with the Presidents temper tantrums, he had to attempt that it was getting a bit pathetic.
How did he know this? Well one, it was quite obvious. And America supposed he did have a small knack for reading people. The same ability that allowed him to realize that Canada and Mexico truly were done with him. Along with everyone else.
"Ah, yes! My country! How have you been?" the President said, his voice grating on America's nerves as it did with almost everyone else's. The country remained silent, knowing that the President didn't give a damn.
The man simply sighed. "Oh well. Onto business then. Canada still hasn't agreed to joining us. Why is that?"
USA stiffened at that topic, hating how the President made sure to bring it up every meeting, rubbing it in his face. He hated himself for how reactive he was. Its not like countryhumans could go against their leaders anyways.
"Canada seems to be very against the idea of joining America and becoming a state. Along with many other vocal countries." America knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for, but USA was supposed to be the country of free speech. He would know, considering the fact HE EMBODIED THE FUCKING COUNTRY.
"Do I look like I care about Canada's wants?" the President spat, already getting riled up. America swallowed. Today was going to be one of those Thursdays huh?
"Sir-"
"If you don't get that damn country to agree, then I'll make him agree. Understood?" he snarled.
USA froze, his temper damn near close to boiling over. "Don't threaten my family," he snapped. He really should control his temper, he thought, before getting slapped. America only blinked, shocked at what had happened. He shouldn't have been surprised really, this had happened multiple times. So he took it, letting himself get kicked onto the floor.
"Don't you dare talk about to me with that tone!"
Ironic, America thought, resisting the urge to jump up and fight back. He was under the impression that he couldn't talk back at all. "Apologies Sir," he replied, getting up when it was clear that his President wasn't going to kick him again. "However, I cannot make Canada obey your will."
"And why is that?" the president snapped, most likely on a temper tantrum. Why couldn't he accept that Canada wasn't a coward like himself and wouldn't just bend to the President's whims. "How dare you!" he screeched, whirling back and glaring at USA. Shit. He had said that out loud, hadn't he?
"I dare because its true!" America retorted, his leash on his temper snapping. "You act like you-" His head snapped back, his body falling onto the floor. Damn, the President punched him. Surprisingly hard for a 'all bark no bite' man like him.
He knew the next blow was coming, but the preparation for the pain didn't really help him at all when he was kicked in his torso. Okay, maybe the bruise also took up half of his lower torso, but it was fine. He was fine. He could get through this.
The next kick landed in the same spot, and America couldn't help but cry out in pain. Ok, maybe he couldn't get through this. He choked, refusing to let the man hear anymore of his pain. He was a super power god damn it, he wouldn't show weakness because of some mild disciplining.
He took a deep breath, then let out a loud shout, unprepared for the President to step on his wing. Shit- his wing! The next kick landed on his ribs, and he heard a crack, but his wing throbbed and he couldn't breathe-
"WHAT THE FUCK!" someone yelled, a loud thud sounding. He must've been too deep in whining about something as stupid as this mentally to realize that there was a threat. While he wouldn't mind his President getting beat, if America didn't react, the man could die. Shit! He threw himself up, ignoring the pain as he pulled out his gun and pointed it at the assassin- Canada and Mexico??
"What are you two doing here?" he demanded, his vision too blurry for his liking. Great, now Canada and Mexico had seen. He'd have to damage control, and his leader was probably going to be pissed, and they might think he deserved it, they probably thought he did-
"Forget that! What the fuck did this vile man think he was doing to you?" Mexico sounded murderous, and America blinked.
"Its nothing, get out of here! This is the god damn White House-"
"I'll fucking kill you! I swear to god, I don't care if you're the President-" Canada cut off, and America shifted his gaze to see his brother was the one who had tackled the President. USA took a shuddering gasp, which only seemed to cause him more pain.
"Get off of my President," America ordered, attempting to stifle his coughs. He knew he should've pointed the gun at Canada, the country could be vicious when he wanted to, but the hurt look on Nada's face told him he'd done enough damage. Not like there was anything to damage. They had made that clear enough.
"What?! He was literally attacking you!" Mexico protested, sounding shocked that America would even suggest that.
"You saw wrong. He was just making sure I knew my place-"
"Oh fuck that shit!" Canada snarled looking even more pissed than Mexico. "Teaching you your 'place'? And that sorry excuse for a man? I swear-"
America cut him off, he didn't have time to argue with them. "Get off my President-" America swayed, his injured wings flaring out to balance him before he slammed into the ground. Hard. He wheezed, his chest felt like it was burning, and he couldn't breathe and he was going to die, and- no. America knew what was wrong. He quickly rolled so that he was facing the ceiling, hitting his chest until the blood he was choking on came out. He coughed up blood, his vision going blurry as the room began to spin.
"Ame!" Canada cried out, rushing over to him.
"You idiot!" Mexico scolded, lifting him up from his position sprawled on the ground,(when had that happened?) and put USA into a bridal carry position. "We're getting you out of this fucking shit whole whether you like it or not."
America attempted to weakly protest, but there were black spots invading his vision, and every noise he made caused his chest to burn, so he shut his mouth.
"How dare you, where do you think you're going-"
A loud crack sounded, followed by a thud. Mexico cackled in glee, and Canada walked back over to them, shaking his wrist. "Lets go," he said, glaring at the unconscious man lying on the floor. "He should be glad I didn't butcher him."
Ame just wheezed, glaring at his brother before looking away, focusing on not fainting right then and there. He probably punctured his lung, and it was a bad idea to fall asleep without being sure. He desperately clung to awareness, the conversation Mexico and Canada were having becoming blurred. Eventually, his control loosened, and he slipped, falling into the sweet embrace of sleep.
Oh well, if he did, at least it would be with people he knew he could trust. Unless this was all a dream and they didn't care and- no. It would be ok. So he let himself drift, and hoped that when he woke up, it wouldn't hurt as much as last time.
……
Canada was fuming as he stormed towards the entrance of the White House. Mexico wasn't in any state better, considering they were both thoroughly pissed. However, Canada did have admit that Mexico was currently a bit more level headed than him, which was why the country in question was attempting to talk down Canada.
"We can't just storm into the White House out of all places! If you want to talk to Ame-"
"If I wait to talk in the next meeting, he'll just make a bunch of excuses! Besides, maybe I can talk sense into the President instead," Canada said leading them through the hallway to the President's room. "And besides, if this is the President's planning, then we'll just have to convince USA to speak against it."
Mexico huffed, following the agitated country despite his protests. "Fine, we'll go in there and try to talk sense. But under any circumstance, DO NOT punch any of them. That would put both of us in a very bad light, along with our countries.
"Fine," Canada muttered, nearing the room they were looking for.
As they drew near, they noticed loud voices coming from the room.
"Apologies Sir," a voice said. America. But why was he apologizing like that? America had always been more informal and energetic with his leaders, unlike most other countries. "However, I cannot make Canada obey your will."
Canada grit his teeth. Oh, so they were talking about him He wasn't just some pet was misbehaving! He had emotions for gods sake, of course he wasn't just going to bend over and obey this man's wants!
"And why is that?" another voice snapped. Mexico raised an eyebrow. Was the president of America throwing a temper tantrum?
America muttered something, too low for them to hear as they still hadn't reached the door.
"How dare you!" the man screeched. Canada winced, the shrill noise grating on his nerves.
"I dare because its true!" America snapped back. "You act like you-"
A thump happened, and USA had been cut off. Shit, was something going on?"
The duo sped up, worried now instead of just angry. USA let out a cry of pain, and Canada ran to the door, having just realized what was happening. Mexico flung open the door, and froze at what he saw. Canada had never felt this much fury towards a human in a long time.
One second he was standing there, staring at that foul man step on his brother's wing, and the next second, he was flying towards the President. "WHAT THE FUCK!" he screamed, tackling the man, shoving him on the floor, and punching him squarely in the face. He prepared to hit the man again, the urge to rip the human into shreds increasing and the blood lust filling his pounding ears.
He could vaguely hear Mexico and America conversing, but his vision tunneled onto the President.
"I'll fucking kill you! I swear to god, I don't care if you're the President-" he snarled, pausing as America interrupted him. He shifted his gaze as his brother as Ame spoke.
"Get off of my President," America ordered, clearly trying hold back coughs. Canada felt the rage slip, shock replacing it.
"What?! He was literally attacking you!" Mexico protested, voicing the exact thoughts of Canada.
"You saw wrong. He was just making sure I knew my place-"
"Oh fuck that shit!" Canada snarled, rage filling him at the idea of America even saying that. "Teaching you your 'place'? And that sorry excuse for a man? I swear-"
His brother cut him off, rasping, and Canada definitely needed to get him medical help. "Get off my President-" America swayed, his injured wings flaring out to balance him before he slammed into the ground.
Canada checked to make sure that the President was unconscious before rushing over to Ame, just in time to see him cough up blood. "Ame!" he cried out, kneeling down to his brother.
"You idiot!" Mexico scolded, lifting America up from the ground, and carrying him bridal style. "We're getting you out of this fucking shit whole whether you like it or not."
America made some mumbles, most likely trying to protest, but he wheezed every time he attempted to speak, so he closed his mouth.
"How dare you, where do you think you're going-"
Canada whirled around, and punched the man as hard as he could, hoping it gave the man a headache.
He walked back to the others, shaking his wrist. At least he got other hit in.
"Lets go," he said, glaring at the unconscious man lying on the floor. "He should be glad I didn't butcher him."
Ame glared at him, but just looked away after a second. Canada sighed, they would really need to work on communication, huh?
"He definitely needs a doctor," Mexico sighed, rasing an eyebrow at the country in his arms, and smiling despite himself.
Canada sighed, shaking his head. "Yep. How bad do you think it is? He probably broke a rib."
"Most likely, might have punctured a lung with the coughing up blood thing."
"Really, shit." They both sped up, getting into the car and speeding up to the hospital. Mexico mostly stayed on call with the hospital and UN, informing them of what had happened, while Canada focused on driving, and not going back to punch the President again.
"Yeah, that's what happened UN. Uh huh. Yep, he'll probably have to stay at the hospital for a bit. No, we will not be apologizing to the President. Ugh, we'll talk later, we're at the hospital now."
Canada grit his teeth. In no way, shape or form was Canada apologizing to that prick. He sighed, getting out of the car. Its fine, he could deal with a few hours of speaking to doctors and worrying over Ame, and then a talk with UN. Its fine. As long as Ame was fine. They were all fine.