[log] I'll bury you good and straight and right [closed]

[fifty]

Characters: America, England, Sealand
Location Building 86, maybe some other places later, we'll see
Date: duration of the event, starting at evening/night 80
Summary: It's time to deal with awful familiar monsters. A catch-all for the nation group during the event.
Warnings: just the standard event warnings of horror and general upset

Comments

[keepscalm]

[Well, it gets England's attention. Colleagues, allies, even friends— but this is a new one, at least out of America's mouth.

England lifts his head a little, his eyebrows furrowing and a corner of his mouth turning up just the barest hint.] Partners?

[fifty]

Yeah! [America barrels forward with his usual subtlety (which is to say, none) before putting on the breaks a little.] If you want to be. You want to be, right? I'm a great partner.

[keepscalm]

[So boastful! But England recognises an attempt at normalcy when he sees one. And it's...a sweet sentiment, regardless.

He lifts America's hand off of his shoulder to set it against the bed, but he still doesn't let go. He finds the energy for a little tease; he's still obviously weary, so it's lighter than usual, and maybe a little friendlier besides that.] When you've got me, maybe.

[fifty]

We're good at working together, so we're good partners. [America says it like it's fact, as if being confident about it will cement it.]

[keepscalm]

[They argue so much that the idea of being good partners is almost laughable. But aren't they a force to be reckoned with when they work together? England knows that if he needs an ally, he's likely to pick America; there are no winners in war, but it's better when America is there.

He tilts his head a little, eyes downcast as another small echo of a smile tugs at his lips.] I suppose you're not the worst partner someone could have.

[That's a compliment coming from England, okay.]

[fifty]

Yeah, 'cause I'm the best! [Americas gonna America.] And you're pretty great, too.

[keepscalm]

[England feels a very distinct thudding in his chest and heat in his face despite America's idiocy. That's never a good sign. It kicks up a whirlwind of activity in his mind; he's not great, he's not even good, he can't even keep his little brother safe, but America thinks he's great...

The fluttery bit in his chest is at terrible odds with the heavy, gnarled knot in his stomach, and he looks stupefied and conflicted in alternating measures before he eventually settles on something resembling bashful.] I, um— right. Of course.

[Agreement continues to be a dubious sign.]

[fifty]

[America wraps England up in the blankets with very deliberate motions.] Do you want something to eat? [That makes him feel better. And he really does want England to feel better.]

[keepscalm]

[For just a brief moment, as America tucks the blankets around him, England can appreciate how bizarre this situation is. He clenches a fist around a bit of blanket, thoughtfully.] Er...I'm not really that hungry.

[He's really a bit nauseous over all his stresses, truth be told. But he doesn't want to brush off America's gesture, so he thinks fast for an alternative. It's embarrassing when it finally comes to him, but it will have to do.] And.

[He stares at a nondescript point on the mattress, trying to keep an even tone.] It would be cold. If you left the bed.

[fifty]

Oh--yeah, I guess it would be. [And it hadn't been too long since he'd been very reluctant to hop out of bed.] I can hang out here! We can hang out. And be warm. [Hanging out sounds more like no big deal, even though they're both in bed together.]

[keepscalm]

[That's one way to put it...

England nods, dumbly.] ...we can have breakfast later. [He settles back against the pillows. And then, uncertainly, he holds the tangle of blankets open so America can make himself comfy, if he wants.]

[fifty]

[America resettles himself under the blankets beside England, sliding closer again now that it seems like England is unlikely to shove him away to brood.] I definitely don't mind sleeping in more.

[keepscalm]

[England tucks America in just as America did for him a few moments ago, letting out a light scoff in response.] Of course you don't.

[When he's done fiddling with the blankets, he withdraws his hand, brushing America's fingers along the way. He doesn't grab it again, but he settles his own hand near enough so as to offer the invitation.] But I dare say we need the rest.