literature

Playmates Part 4

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It had all happened so fast: England jerking America off of Canada, America grabbing onto Canada's bear in a desperate attempt to stay on the ground, and Canada reacting by clinging onto his bear with all his might.  Immediately following his instinctive action, Canada had felt himself lifting off the ground slightly.  Then, the sickening RIIIIIIIIIP had sounded out, and Canada had felt his body descend briefly.  He now found himself firmly planted on the floor once more.  As soon as he had landed, Canada had heard all of the commotion in the room die.  Where there had been the sounds of laughter and play, there was now an uncomfortable silence.  Neither England nor America were making a sound.  Canada remained curled around his bear in a protective pose.  He had a feeling something horrible had happened.  The silence around him caused the feeling to intensify.  Deep down, he had an idea of what had happened.  He dreaded opening his eyes and seeing it for himself, but curiosity was urgently demanding that he check the condition of his best friend!    

He silently prayed that all of this was a dream.  When he opened his eyes, he would be back home, in his own bed, with own brother, far, far, FAR away from this place.  He opened a cautious eye.  There stood England and America above him.  They looked as if they had been shocked into a stupor.  England was looking down at him, completely speechless, with an awkward stunned/slightly concerned expression.  America, still dangling in England's grasp, was staring in horror, with his mouth agape, at what he held in his own hands: the lone, snowy-white arm of Canada's bear.  

For a tiny fraction of a second, Canada joined his brother in gaping at the gruesome sight.  He watched helplessly as the stuffing rolled out of the torn opening at the end of the soft arm and flowed gently down to the ground; almost like snow.  Then, Canada awoke from his short spell, and shot up in a sitting position.  With desperately quick reflexes, he held his bear out in front of him, as if he had to fully confirm his fears.   

There was no denying it.  

The bear's arm was gone.  

The very room itself seemed to be holding its breath while it waited for Canada's reaction.  Strangely, Canada found that he could only gawk at his bear in disbelief; his little brain not quite registering what his eyes were seeing.  It took some time (how much time, Canada never knew.  He had felt as if the world had crashed to a stop and time had frozen), but the reality slowly began to sink in.  His bear…the one that his brother, France, had given him…his favorite toy…his constant companion…his special friend…it really was…missing an arm…it was…ruined.

This was a devastating blow to the sensitive child.  His poor bear!  His imagination told him that his toy must be in so much pain.  How could this have happened?!  The bear that Canada had loved so much had just been ripped apart right in front of him.  He had tried to protect it, but it had happened anyway.    His most cherished possession in all the world was destroyed!  Nothing could ever replace it.  As if being forcibly separated from the closest thing he had to a father, and then handed over to scary England had not been bad enough!  But now this?!  Even his teddy-bear, his only security blanket, wasn't safe?!  Did the universe hate Canada, or something?!

Feeling hit with an unbearable sense of loss, Canada at last began respond to the tragedy.  His little hands tightened their grip on the bear.  His brow lowered.  His teeth clenched.  A long, quiet whining sound slowly began to emit from him, as beads of tears quickly gathered at the edges of his eyes.  

The high-pitched whine brought America out of his own shock.  Upon turning his attention to Canada, America's already wide eyes became even wider with alarm.  He knew that look. He began thrashing furiously against England.   

"PUTMEDOWNPUTMEDOWNPUTMEDOWN!" he demanded.

England obliged, but because of America's thrashing, he was forced to do so slowly—Too slow for America's taste.  The boy squirmed all the more in an attempt to further communicate that he had to get down NOW.  England was doing his best.  He would have gladly placed America back on solid ground if that was what he desired, but all the struggling was making it hard for England to keep a hold on the boy.  He really had to concentrate on lowering America and keeping a careful grip on the boy, lest he drop him.  

And so, despite America's unnecessary flailing, he was gently lowered to the floor.  The hyper child was on his knees, in front of Canada, practically the instant his toes had touched the hard-wood.  The first thing America did was make a move to hug Canada or pat him.  He wanted to give him some kind of consoling touch, but something was making him hesitate.  Canada looked dangerously close to a breaking point. His drawn-out whine was like the warning signs for a storm.  That threatening whine sounded like it could easily morph into an inconsolable wail at any moment.  The trembling and watery-eyed Canadian looked so fragile and delicate in his distress, that America was convinced merely tapping him with one finger would cause him to crumble to pieces just like one of their unbalanced block towers.  Being unable to touch Canada, America settled for waving his arms around, frantically.       

"Wait!  No!  Don't cwy!" America flung his pleas at Canada in super-hurried speech, as more white puff balls were flung out of the bear's cloth arm (which America was still holding in one of his waving hands) and all around the room.  "I'm sowy!   I didn't mean too!  It was an accident!"  

Stuffing was flying in all directions now.  America kept an unconscious, but tight, hold on the paw, and the torn limb attached to it was roughly slung about.  White fluff landed all around the boys.  Some came to rest on Canada's head, but he did not seem to notice.  America's loud apologies and actions did nothing to change Canada's state.  He kept his distraught focus on his bear; seemingly unaware of America's presence.  His whine was still going strong (and was still impressively fueled by the same breath that had first released it).  Then, all at once, America stopped waving his arms.  On a new impulse, he reached out to touch Canada's bear.
   
"It's alwight!" he confidently continued to shout (just as much for he own assurance as his brother's).  "Engwand can fix it!"

That triggered the storm.

Canada jerked away from America.  "NO!" he squeaked forcefully.  

Now in full-fledged tears, Canada clutched his injured bear in both arms and lay huddled on top of it so no one could touch it.  America was surprised at first, but he did not let Canada's refusal discourage him.  Again and again he tried to pry Canada away from his bear.  He crawled around Canada in a fruitless attempt to find an opening, all the while shouting encouraging statements over Canada's sobbing.  He kept trying to coax Canada to give the bear to the older brother for repairs, but Canada wouldn't budge.  Letting America hold his bear was one thing, but Canada was NOT going to give it up to England!  What if Canada didn't get it back?  As far as Canada was concerned, England had taken away everything else from his old life.  England had taken his brother, his language, his food, his friendship with the Indians, he had even taken Canada's own name!  What if he took his precious bear too?  What if England thought that the damaged bear was not worth fixing?  What if he decided to just throw it out?  Canada couldn't let that happen!  Ruined or not, that bear was all he had left!

"Come on, Maf'oo!  Just give it!  It'll be okay, weally!"

Canada didn't even hear America.  He was now totally lost in his grief.  America pressed on through Canada's wails.

"You can—"

"ENOUGH!"

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut in on all the disorder.  The boys froze in place.  America stopped his advances.  Canada visibly cringed.  (His weeping didn't stop, but the volume of it dramatically decreased)  Of course, the thundering voice belonged to none other than England.  He had been watching the mounting chaos with uncertainty up until now, but he had finally decided to interject before it got worse.
Sorry this is so short! I feel so bad for making anyone reading this wait so long, and this is all you get for now! :( The reason this took so long is a mixture of life, sickness, and holiday hassles. Writers block also helped. It's like I knew what I wanted to happen, but I was never happy with how I wrote it out on paper! It's clearing up now, and I just realized that I was pretty happy with this little chunk, so I might as well give anyone waiting for this something to read. Hopefully I can get the next part up later tonight when I have more time. Comments from those still reading would be greatly appreciated! They might give me extra motivation to nuckle down and finish this sucker. Anyway, hope this satisfies for now. (After stressing over this for so long, somebody out there has to like this! ;) )

If this is your first time seeing this, you might want to start here:

A New Guardian: [link]

Playmates Part 1: [link]

Part 2: [link]

Part 3: [link]

Edit: Part 5: [link]

Edit: Fan art by :iconkyuubi-chan16: :[link] Check it out! :dance: (It's called "Poor Mattie..." in her gallerly if the link doesn't work for some odd reason)
© 2010 - 2024 4TheFunOfIt
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MangaLover541's avatar
Aww, I just wanna console Mattie and hold him! America, why did you have to rip his bear! And England, you better be nice to him!