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Chapter Text

Texas turned sideways in his seat leaning back against the window of the airplane. Listening to the bickering coming from the cockpit. Sounds like New York got ahold of dad finally. On the plus side it sounds like Alaska is okay. Closing his eyes and just smiled while relaxing. At least until the bathroom door opened. With his eyes closed he tries to figure out who would be there. Who could have snuck away while he was not paying attention. Texas stared with a mix of fear and shock at the young man who walked out of the airplane bathroom.

For one, everybody on the plane was accounted for. Two, they were about a mile in the air, so someone ‘sneaking’ on was next to impossible. Third, this particular young man died over a hundred and fifty years ago. The dead did not just ‘show up’, much less to a flight in midair.

Texas stood and crossed his arms as his head brushed the roof of the airplane. This had to be a dream. All he had to do was take control. Just like his therapist said. Just take control. Taking a deep breath and thinking calming thoughts as he attempted to take control of the situation. ‘Control. You got this Tex.’

“CSA, What are you doing here?” Texas asked. ‘Just act normal. This is my dream. I got this.’

Confederate States of America looked at Texas with a confused look. His eyes wandered around the passenger compartment. Texas could hear the arguing still going on upfront. CSA’s eyes returned to him, looking him slowly up and down.

“Texas? My god you got tall,” he said with that heavy southern drawl that Texas remembered. He looked over the back of the seats again. “Is that California? She-”

“They are none of your concern. Why are you here?” Texas asked firmly. ‘Take control, this is your dream! Why is he here? Why am I dreaming this now?’

“Well, dangit boy, I'm just as confused as you,” Confederacy growled. Texas frowned watching the confusion settle on CSA’s face. “I know y'all-”

“Nope. I ain't having it.” Texas stood firm. “I am in a sealed, pressurized tube, twenty thousand feet above the ocean. You are in a grave at least a thousand miles away. Therefore, you cannot be here. I have to be dreaming unless you can tell me why you are here?”

“Texas, last I knew I was in H- Heaven,” Tex noticed the brief stutter, but it faded with how weird it was to see him again after so long. His heart clenched briefly with a small sob that escaped CSA. “then the world came crashing down around me!” CSA explained, gesturing around him wildly. Turning quickly back to Texas he narrowed his eyes tilting his head to one side, “Wait, you mean under the ocean?”

“What?” It was his turn to be confused. Texas looked out the window just to be sure dream logic had not taken over and they were suddenly under the water. Seeing the clear blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds. “No?”

“It has to be under the water cause we can't be above the ocean, that's impossible. That would mean we were in the sky. This kit looks way better than the CSS Virginia.” Confederacy scoffed as he looked around the plane. Slowly standing up till his head didn’t bump the ceiling.

Texas saw his way out, he leaned over to a window and pushed up the shade to fully open. Sure enough, the sky and the ground far below greeted his eyes.

“Look for yourself. We are in the sky.” Texas smiled to himself ‘see, all in control.’

Confederacy scowled but looked out the window. His face went slack, then pale.

“See? We-”

“Get me out of this contraption now!” confederacy ordered. Texas turned back to him confused again. Why was his dream being so weird?

Just as Texas was about to rebut him, New York threw open the door to the cockpit.

“Dad is still a POS! The Fuck are you yelling about now?” He yelled startling California into sitting up and blinking. New York’s eyes locked on the Confederacy standing next to him. Taking two large steps York then grabbed Texas’ arm and glared at CSA. “‘Cuse us.”

The smaller state dragged him into the cockpit.

“Who is that?” New York asked, gesturing to the now closed door.

There was a demanding knock at the door. Followed by muffled demands that sounded like ‘let me in’ and ‘get me out of here’. Texas was starting to feel he was seriously losing his grip on his control.

“Is everyone okay?” Alabama asked.

“You can see him too? Wait, I'm not dreaming?” Texas asked, looking at the door and then back to New York. Then looking at Alabama who just shrugged at him. Leave it to his brother to help him out when he needed it. Texas rolled his eyes and looked back at the door. ‘Well hell, so much for control.’

The knocking got heavier. It sounded more like a thud. The shrieking was gaining in volume. If this was not a dream, then that racket was going to wake up either Louisiana or Cali. Honestly he would not want to deal with either one of them if they were awoken from a good nap. Poor CSA was gonna get killed if he kept that up. Killed again that is.

“No you dumbass!” New York said with an edge of frustration, punching Texas in the arm. “Now who the hell is that?” Pointing his finger at the door with emphasis. ‘Great, not a dream and York is all kinds of mad now..’

Thud. Thud. BAM. Thud. “... ge… OUT….. now” Followed by a high pitched whimper.

“Well,” Texas looked at the door, ignoring everyone else in the cockpit. “As far as I know, that is the ghost of Confederacy.” Texas smoothed his sleeve where New York had pulled him. “Or else a really good impersonator.”

Thunk thud. Nails raking down the outside of the door as the whimpering faded.

“Ok, but who is that?” New York pointed at the door again.

Thud. This time it sounded like a forehead, a different lilt compared to the thunks of his fists.

“Confederate State of America!” Texas did his best to keep calm as he kept his eyes on the door. ‘Control! Breath deep.’

“It can’t be. Confederate is dead.” New York turned to stare his taller brother down. “So that can not be him!”.

Thump. Thud. “... leeeeas. “

“Here,” New York shoved the headset with the microphone from the radio at Texas. “You deal with ’Drinky Kong’, I will go straighten this mess out.”

Texas threw a desperate look to Alabama and Mississippi holding the headset limply in his hand. Listening to the door open, a screech from the other side, and then it closed. ‘Serve him right, self righteous schmuck.’ He loved his brother, but some days that sanctimonious attitude really got under his skin.

Alabama gave Texas a confused shrug and turned back to piloting the plane. Mississippi dedicated himself to getting a radio signal. Texas handed him the headset. “This is Magnolia to UN island, do you read?”

Mississippi grinned and turned on a speaker.

“Yes, oh thank God!” America's voice came through. “This is Eagle. How far are you?”

“We just entered your airspace, shouldn't be long before, wait…” Alabama started but trailed off, “Dad, your not gonna believe this but-”

“Try me.” America deadpanned before there was the sound of the mic being snatched with a faint “hey!”

“The Island changed a lot,” a woman's voice came over the speaker but it kept breaking up in an annoyingly predictable pattern. “Tea Cup here, Magnolia, you got about fifteen minutes by my estimates. Watch for the radio tower; the landing field should not be too far after that.”

Alabama squinted into the morning sun.

“I think I see it,” he squinted again before keying his mic, “but it looks like it's moving?” Alabama asked.

Mississippi grabbed a pair of binoculars and scanned the horizon ahead of them.

“That's a woman on a flying red horse.” Mississippi said in disbelief.

“What?” Texas looked to the red dot in the horizon. Mississippi handed him the binoculars. It was a woman with flaming red hair on a matching, flying horse. Texas felt that he was at the edge of what he wanted to try to handle. CSA and now this.

“You need to get out of the sky.” America said. “Now!” Texas had not heard that tone of command in ages.

“What? Why?” Texas asked.

“That woman and horse combination is trouble. With a capital T. I do not want you anywhere near her! I don't know how, but she takes people and causes storms,” America explained. “You need to land and take cover. Stay. Away. From. Her!” Texas could almost imagine dad hitting the desk with each word.

Alabama nodded as if America could see him. His eyes scanning the ground without another word.

“Looking for a spot now,” Mississippi said, picking up for his mute brother.

“Dad, you have a lot to explain when we get together,” Texas said, relaxing into the insanity that was his family. ‘Just take it all instride and freak out later.’ The radio buzzed with static.

Texas handed the spare headset back to Mississippi and went to check on New York. These two didn’t need his help. Maybe York did.

Texas walked into the passenger cabin to see that New York was interrogating Confederacy, Louisiana had apparently woken up and tied the intruder to a seat with her knitting. California was peacefully sleeping where they had been before.

“This is your captain speaking,” Alabama said over the intercom, “we're going to make an emergency landing. Please get in your seats and buckle up. It’s gonna be bumpy”

“Why are we landing?” New York yelled through the door. Then he turned to Texas, “Why are we landing? We have to get to dad and Alaska!”

“Y’all ever seen a horse go through a plane engine?” Alabama quipped back as the plane shuddered.

New York muttered several swears in Dutch as he pushed past Texas to the cockpit.

“Mind updating us on what's going on?” Louisiana asked. Spinning a knitting needle around her fingers before putting it down and buckling in the sleeping California. Sitting next to CSA she prepared for the landing.

“Apparently the earthquake changed the island a lot,” Texas started as he took his seat next to her. “And not in ways we'd expect. Dad and UK didn't say much more than that. Didn’t have much of a chance to say anything.”

Louisiana nodded, then pulled out her runes. Texas looked up to give her some semblance of privacy. Turning his gaze to the shaking Confederacy.

“There's a stupid amount of magic here.” Louisiana closed her bag and tapped Texas's arm to let him know she was finished.

“So what does that mean for us?” Texas asked her. The plane banked hard to the right as the sun swung quickly around in the sky. CSA screamed in panic at the plane's movement.

“Our prisoner might actually be telling the truth for one thing,” she said with an annoyed groan. “And with what you told me about the island, we might be in for more than sister wrangling.” Texas loved the soft measure of his sister's accent.

Texas nodded as the plane started to descend. He glanced over at California, their eyes were closed, but that didn't mean much. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Confederacy white knuckling the arm rests and starting a low level keening.

“You think he's telling the truth?” Texas asked, nodding his head to his seat mate.

“I am right here you know! Why would I lie to you?” Confederacy yelled as he squirmed in his cotton bindings. CSA screamed when the plane dipped sharply again.

“Watch it! We are not in a fighter plane this time!!” New York could be heard screaming from the cockpit.

“In our defense, Dixie, you've been dead for a long time,” Louisiana said. “It aint like people come back from that often.”

“You were shot in the head!”

Chapter Text

“Magnolia? Magnolia do you read?” America nearly screamed over the radio. Pulling himself back enough that it would not overload the circuits.

When he was answered with static, America barely restrained himself from throwing the radio equipment. That red menace was near his kids! Shaking at the thought of his kids in danger he looked around the room to check on Alaska. Making sure that the one kid he was near was safe. Seeing that she was helping out his brother. She was safe. Safe. Now he started to look around for some way to get to his kids that were now in trouble. There were so many dangers out there that they had no idea about. It was not a good sign that they were already close to War. There was still Soviet and crew out there. Then the ancients. America shuddered to think of how York would react to Rome. At least WARSAW was here and under guard.

His eyes searched the room again and his gaze lighted upon a ladder. Rushing over, he looked up the maintenance ladder where NATO had established a watch on the roof.

UK grabbed his arm and slowly shook her head at him. Staring him firmly in the eyes.

“They're at least two hundred miles away, you're not going to spot them with binoculars.”

“Well God dammit what am I supposed to do?” He said, his voice more helpless than he meant for it to sound. “I have to get to them! I have to keep them away from War… and the ancients… and that damn Soviet… and that hideous bug!!!” He could feel himself shaking at each thought. Throwing his arms in various directions as each threat piled up. He could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat.

“Didn't you send the German out with a radio?” UK asked, a hopeful smile on her lips. Still not breaking eye contact. UK was talking slow and calm.

“Yes, charged up and with military frequencies. Even that will only make 30 miles with no obstructions on a good day.” America pointed to the radio that UK had been using “That base station can reach 4,000 miles unless the atmosphere causes issues.” Even as he was talking he was looking around the room for inspiration to save his kids. His whole body on fight or flight response.

Feeling hands grabbing his face he was forced to stop looking around. Gazing into UKs eyes as she turned to one of the monitors and pointed to a little yellow dot. “This is us,” she explained slowly to him. “we're set up for pre-earthquake island geography, but with the readings from when we flew in,”

“You can guess where things are!” He almost cheered. Maybe he would not be a complete failure to his kids this time. He was trembling slightly from the adrenaline.

“Using East we can have a second point of reference.” UK held her hands up, trying to calm America.

“Ok, but that narrows it down a lot!” He started to think of the ways that this could help. If he had a plan of action, he could handle almost anything. Sitting around not being able to do anything tore him up. “Or we can use the other planes as a reference? The water tower at one end of the field, or ” His thoughts trailed off as he used what mental map he had. “The transmission tower here. League’s tower could help also. Triangulation! The more data points we have, even with the time distortion, we can narrow down the area!” Standing still as he started to think.

UK turned back to the radio picking up the mic. Keeping an eye on America as she sat back down. Not letting go of his hand. His thoughts spiraled down alternate plans, discarding as quickly as he was creating them. Other than the initial word vomit he gave to UK, none of them were viable.

“*Tower to Notebook*” She said. “*Do you read?*”

“*Yeah,*” East answered, he sounded slightly disgruntled at his callsign.

“*There is a report of a hostile in the area by an incoming craft,” UK explained.

“*Who was spotted?*” East sounded more serious. America was not sure how East even did that. The kid was so deadpan so often.

“*A woman on a red flying horse,*” UK said, tapping a rough location on a crudely drawn map in front of her.

America crossed his arms and waited for East's report. Maybe East could see his kids’ plane. He was a man of action. Waiting for decisions was just killing him. This is what started his drinking, sitting and waiting for shit to go wrong. Something to help loosen the knot of tension in his guts.

“*I spotted a plane to the north, It was pretty far from here. I have not seen War in this area.*”

He could have cheered. East had seen the plane! Point one for triangulation.

“*Can you get to where the plane was? Can you give me any kind of a direction?*” America asked him after grabbing the mic away from UK. UK just lightly patted his hand in a soothing motion. That he promptly ignored as he focused on the radio.

“*Yes, I can get there but it'll take me a while. It was quite far to the NorthEast direction.*” East sounded winded. America felt a slight twinge of guilt at the sound.

“*How far?*” America asked. Tapping his fingers on his other arm as he started a mental list of what all he would need to head out right then. A little voice drifted from a drugged memory ‘dadda, don’t leaps before looks.’ The childish lisp was the echo of his baby Dakota. Is that what he was doing now?

“*At least a hundred miles.*” East said. American could hear East turning his head from the echo on the radio.

“*Flying is too risky with War around.*” America thought aloud. Taking a deep calming breath and then biting his lip.

“*Affirmative, do you want me to come back?*” East asked.

“*Negative, keep low and watch the skies.*” America said. He was not happy but endangering more people would not help his kids. At least East was able to give a direction. That is more than he had a few minutes ago.

“*Roger*” East responded with a relieved sigh.

“Will NATO approve of those orders?” UK asked, turning the volume on the radio down. Placing the mic back into the cradle she turned towards him.

“Don’t care. Would you rather he get captured and dragged off?” America asked. He half answered her, still running down a list of supplies and alternate plans in his mind.

“Stubborn as always,” she shook her head and whispered softly. She patted his hand gently again, “Your kids are smart and able to take care of themselves. We will get to them.” He took a deep breath as UK comforted him. America watched as she looked out to the field where the last two flights were almost ready to take off. “Should I delay the other flights?”

“If anything, they should accompany each other,” America said, stroking his chin. Striding over to the base of the ladder he shouted up, “NATO, how's it looking up there?”

“Mostly clear, haven't spotted your states yet,” she looked down the hatch from the roof. Binoculars hanging around her neck.

“We think East spotted their plane,” America shouted back. “War has been spotted by my states. I ordered them to execute an emergency landing in the wild.” America watched as NATO started to scan the skies before he helpfully added, “To the NorthEast.”

NATO cussed and turned to quickly see if she could spot anything of War or the states plane.

America stepped out of the building to look over the increasingly antsy crowd lined up on the tarmac. BRICS had taken it upon himself to keep a schedule displayed on a white board. UN and EU were quietly talking with them. Overall everything was calm and orderly. No one could guess that he was over here freaking out. If he was really lucky, he could keep it that way.

Alaska trotted up to America, apparently ready to play messenger. She looked excited to see her siblings soon. He knew that he screwed up somewhere and that is why his kids were in danger. He would have a firm talk with himself later.

“Any news?” She asked, almost bouncing on her toes. Slight smile on her face.

“Tell your uncle War was spotted, I ordered Alabama to land asap and hide.” America tried to keep this voice down, panic was the last thing people needed. Giving her a quick kiss on the forehead.

He watched as she growled low at the thought of that woman near her siblings. Then Alaska nodded as she turned on her heel to carry out his message. He was so proud of his children. America continued his march to the group of organizations congregated around the white board. UN smiled at him and America watched as the smile faded.

“What went wrong? You have that ‘something went wrong’ look.” UN asked quietly once America was close.

“Oh just a certain lady on a red horse and my states are too close to each other in the sky.” America said, with deeply snide annoyance. Fighting off the feeling of being a complete failure. His kids would not be in danger if he had not left a one word note. Of course it was all his fault. His gut clenched in the overly familiar feeling of failing his family. This is the second reason he started drinking and drugs.

“How close did they make it to the airfield?”

“At least a hundred miles, but due to the flying horse they were grounded.” America looked around to see how many were close enough to hear. He did not want to start a panic.

UN nodded grimly, noticing America looking around.

“Security meeting in five. I'll alert the others. Meet in the radio room” He said and turned back to EU and BRICS.

America walked back to the radio room hoping UK had a location for him. Before he entered into the room his eyes tracked Alaska and Canada as they stood near Ukraine. Then made a quick headcount of where everyone else was.

UK raked her hands through her hair as she worked with a map, compass, and ruler.

“Any luck?” America asked hopefully. Leaning over the map that had been cut and taped back down on a sheet of cardboard. The spaces inbetween the map sections were colored in with highlighters, markers, and sharpies. This must be the rough layout of the ‘new’ island. He wanted to punch something. They could not tell if this was accurate, it was all guessing.

“Best I can tell, they're to the north of us, most likely to the north east as East indicated. That would also follow with the approach to the landing strip.” she sat up and looked him in the face. Her expression was sympathetic and grim. “But without an up to date map, that's all I can give you.”

America bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to scream. Every obstacle he tried to work around, two more popped up. He pushed down the feeling of helplessness and forced himself to calm down. The urge to drink stuck him but he knew it wouldn't help. A bit of myth would help focus him. Shaking his head to get rid of these thoughts. He had to help his kids no matter what got in the way. Especially after the lecture he just got from York. He cannot slip back into old habits. He had to prove to his kids that he was getting better.

British Empire touched his shoulder, making America jump. He has a bucket of water in his other hand. America looked at the bucket and then back up at the empire.

“Can I help you? Cause I doubt that dousing me with water is going to help.” America asked, a bit more harshly than he meant to. Too many memories from his past with this empire cropped up. Too many emotionally charged memories that conjured up negative feelings and distrust. BE and himself could duke it out for Father of the Year.

“No lad, but I might have a way to provide a map of sorts,” British Empire said quietly.

“How did you know we needed a map? You have not even been nearby!” America’s tone bled with distrust. ‘Yep, old habits die hard.’

“Logic child. The land has changed. Your kids are on the way in. UK told me about war being nearby. Top that off with the fact that death comes with certain.... abilities.” The old Empire sighed with a bitter smile, “and after all, the sun never set on me. I know a bit about mapping new territory. All I need you to do is trust me.” BE tried his best to look unthreatening.

America narrowed his eyes at his old ‘founder?’. This statement was so loaded. Not sure he could ever trust British Empire with anything, much less the safety of his children. America had to admit that BE had to be able to do something about maps. He ruled the seas before America took that over. By the time America had become a major sea power, most of the maps had been made. He really had no choice, he had to trust someone. He knew he would do anything for his children and this was part of ‘anything’. He would walk through Hell to save them. Slowly he looked up into BE’s eyes and seeing an old unknown pain there, America nodded in agreement.

“You had best not be screwing around, brother.” UK looked between the two men before BE leveled her with a look. Taking in BE’s pleading look and America’s near panic.

BE set the bucket on the desk, then motioned for America's and UK “Each of you, hold my hand.”

America gave UK a confused look, only to receive a shrug. Reluctantly they each took one of his hands. America gritted his teeth and did as he was asked. A slow mantra rolled over and over in his head ‘my children’ pushing out the distrust he was feeling.

“Place your other hand on the bucket, each of you.” BE's voice shook. America looked up, alarmed as the old Empire seemed to tighten up like he was straining.

When America touched the bucket, a strange static electric feeling moved through his arms, making his threads twitch. He could suddenly see a map splotched with red, white and green on the water's surface. As soon as UK touched the bucket, pins appeared. It was like the water's surface was a screen. The detail was so crisp, it was almost like he could touch the map. The feeling that with this magic he could zoom in or out as needed. So this is how the old bastard was able to map the world.

“We are here,” BE explained as a pin began to glow. “I believe the striped pin is East Germany, and that plane is the one that took off just a few minutes ago from the airfield here.”

“So that puts your states in that big red patch,” UK said a fourth pin appeared in a red and brown splotch.

“What does the red mean?” America asked. Internally he was panicking. Red was never a good color on a map. Taking all his effort to keep in contact with the bucket and the hand holding his.

“It's where Hell is concentrated. Green for the living world and white for heaven. At least as I understand it.” BE explained. His breathing started to sound labored to America. Who would not pull his eyes away from the map to check on BE.

“How far away is that?” America asked, hope and fear violently mixing in his gut. His eyes took in every detail that the water displayed. Commiting to memory everything he could. As soon as this was done, he would fix the cardboard map that UK had created. He could see now the parts that were incorrect.

“About sixty miles as the bird flies,” BE Said, a black line trailed through the red spot like it was drawn with a pen, rough sketches of landmarks also appearing. “I would suggest this path, for your safety. Past Hells’ Castle, through the Truth Fields, then left at their well.” America’s eyes burned the path into his memory. Pouring his entire being into memorizing the map.

Suddenly he was pulled away from the bucket as America felt BE pull sharply on his hand. Before he could respond the Empire fainted to the floor next to them.

“Brother?” UK cried out. Quickly she knelt and started to try to rouse him.

America stood there in a daze mentally going over the map in his mind. Feeling a little disconnected from the world around him. Until it all suddenly snapped back into focus.

BE was passed out on the floor. America could see that he was breathing as UK was slowly tapping his face and whispering to him. After a few moments he started to shake his head slowly. Opening his eyes and gave his sister a weak smile. He struggled to sit upright with the help of UK.

America’s heart clenched tightly at the sight of his father figure vulnerable on the ground in front of him. A lot to unpack with those feelings and now was not the time.

“Sorry, I guess that took more out of me than I expected.” British Empire said as he held his head in his hands.

“Well, that explains why you didn't mention it before,” UK said half jokingly. Lightly punching him before giving him a bear hug. “Do not do that again. You scared me!”

“Ok, now what do we do?”

Chapter Text

America observed the crowded radio room was eerily quiet after he and UN had informed the small group of the status of the States’ plane and the presence of War. The fact that this was happening directly in the territory of Hell was not comforting. East had returned and provided his observations to the meeting. America had sketched out the map while UN and East were talking. The group poured over it and no one could seem to articulate a plan. At least, not a plan that anybody liked.

“As much as I hate to say it, our next step is to split up.” NATO stretched her back.

“Are you serious?” UN argued. His face twisted in frustration at the current situation. “We just got everyone together and we are about to safely leave here. Splitting up is the last thing I want to do.”

NATO leveled a calm look at him. “You are tired and not thinking clearly. The last thing you want to do is take everyone straight into Hell.” She smiled at the phrasing.

UN gritted his teeth and sat back in his chair. America watched as UN fought with conflicting desires until he finally gave in. “You’re right.”

“What? We know war won't chase the living. We know other dead will. The best course of action is to get everyone out except for a small rescue force.” NATO said with a shrug, rolling her shoulders to relieve the tension.

“And you want me to leave five of my members?” UN punctuated his question with a slam of his fist on the table. It was weird seeing him this riled, but America couldn't blame him.

He turned back to the project in front of him. America put the finishing touches on the new map.
Not even looking up from his handiwork. “I'm not leaving my states,” America said firmly in a deadpan that East would be proud of. As much as he didn't want to stress UN, he had his own states to worry about. He would walk through Hell for them and that appears to be exactly what he will have to do.

“And we're not leaving America or Canada here,” Alaska squared her shoulders as she spoke. Ukraine stood supportively behind her. Alaska glanced at NATO, UN, Canada, and then himself. The look on her face indicated a fight if she was denied.

“Article Five,” NATO, Poland, Germany and Canada said in an eerie unison. They glanced at each other but stood firm. America cast a grateful glance at his brother.

“I see your minds are made up,” UN said miserably. He straightened his back. His resolve liquefied and resolidified before America's eyes. America could feel a part of UN deflate at the announcement. “I'll get the other's out of here.”

“I'll keep my team safe.” NATO said it with a confidence America used to have.

With a nod between the two organizations, the decision was agreed on.

“Let’s focus on getting you and the rest of them safely out of here. I suggest we change the flight plan to go to the North before heading to the East. Also to send both flights out at the sametime. That is going to change some planning.” NATO clapped UN on the back as they headed out the door with EU and BRICS behind them.

America's attention drifted to his father.

BE sat by the desk holding his head. UK sat next to him, holding a cup of tea for each of them. America knew the look on BE's face all too well, it was an expression America often had during the last world war. An expression that would echo sometimes even in his own kids. A knit brow with his lips pressed into a line. Grief and uncertainty, mixed with exhaustion.

America debated comforting the man, but Canada seemed to have beaten him to it. The leaner North American offered their father a hand. There always seemed to be a closer connection between the two of them. They didn’t exclude him on purpose, it was just the way they were. BE looked up with love and pride at Canada. America could feel his guts twist again denying a deep unacknowledged feeling. He turned away quickly and looked around the room trying to get his bearings again.

'Just as well,’ America thought as he glanced over to the youngsters and NATO. It looked like UN, EU, and BRICS had headed outside while NATO stopped to talk to the small group.

“What can you tell me about this 'field of truth’?” NATO asked as Germany translated for his brother. Germany was slowly rubbing some lotion into East’s wings.

“*In Heaven, its flowers are used in very small amounts,*” East explained, he relaxed while talking. “*A lot of people find the effects painful. That and the pollen is very potent and easily airborne.*”

“Painful how?” America leaned in to listen.

East took a moment to gather his thoughts. “*When forced to face truths that have been denied, it hurts in an almost physical way.*”

America nearly panicked at that moment a fear of the fields building fast. His thoughts were interrupted when Germany spoke up.

“*Could a gas mask nullify the effect?*” Germany asked.

“*I don't know,*” East admitted as he flipped through his notes. “*I had a hard time getting a hold of the stuff, but it mostly affects sentient beings. The wild animals in the area did not appear to be affected.*” East scribbled another quick note. “*Wonder if Nazi would be affected?*” He muttered softly while writing.

Germany translated for NATO and switched to East’s other wing.

“What are the effects?” She asked.

“If you can smell the flowers, you can't lie. If you are near them, you start rambling. When you're in them, every hidden thing comes out,” British Empire interjected as Canada helped him over to the group. ‘Ever the good and wanted son’ America thought before BE continued on, “In hell, the lowest sinners hide in the most overgrown parts of the field.”

“How do you know this?” America asked, he looked away as Alaska came to stand beside him. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a light squeeze of encouragement. It was still hard to watch BE and Canada together. Desperately trying to move the conversation along.

“Don't make me stay it,” BE begged. His voice barely above a whisper. Canada shot America a pleading look as UK started to sob.

America’s head whipped back to look at the broken form of BE. 'My father went to hell.’ The realization hit America like a brick. Sure, he and his father fought. But this? And if BE went to hell, what did that mean for him? America’s whole world stopped at that moment, nothing made sense any more. ‘My dad went to hell.’ The thought echoed in his mind again, still not understanding exactly what this meant. ‘... and suffered!’ A very quiet part of his mind tacked on ‘because of me.’

“Hey!” BE said sharply, gently shaking a crying UK and breaking America's train of thought. America shook himself and swiveled his gaze to BE and UK. BE was slowly rubbing UKs back as she cried on her brother’s shoulder.

“I find it hard to believe you deserved that,” UK cried. “You-”

“I assure you I got exactly what I earned.” The empire crossed his arms and glared at his crying sister. “What I did to Canada and America alone. Not to mention Australia and New Zealand.”

America looked deep into BE’s eyes as he looked at him and Canada. There was bitter regret of past actions that could never be taken back. That was not the only emotion in his eyes, it was overlaid with a deep wellspring of love. The love of a father that has failed his children and he knows it. A love that America was all too familiar with. ‘I have become my father.’ The thought struck him to his very core as he stood there in stunned silence watching his family from the outside. He looked to Canada who was trying to comfort BE. The feelings were too much and he could not deal with them now. Not sure he could ever deal with this. He had to break this up, it was too much, it was overwhelming. The terror he had felt in the mirror was nothing compared to watching his father right now.

“The things you did to food! Poor innocent food that never did anything to you!” America flashed his father a wicked grin, breaking the tension in the room, making everyone chuckle. Hoping that his perceptive brother would not pick up on the unease that he was desperately trying to bury. The tiny quirk of Canada’s eyebrow told him he was not successful in that endeavor.

“Hey! Most of that is her!” BE said in mock outrage. Picking up on his son’s segway. America really was his father’s son. They both reacted the same to tense situations, either blow it up, beat it down, or distract. BE gave him a brief look of understanding and love. The glance of a thankful equal was almost more than America could handle. He squeezed on Alaska’s hand in reassurance. He could see Canada smiled softly at the two of them.

“Well, see if I make you mince meat pies again!” UK said sarcastically, dabbing at her eyes with one of her many handkerchiefs.

“You gotta get the ingredients first,” Canada joked. “So unless you were holding out on us, you better wait until we-” he stopped himself mid sentence as the realization hit them. America’s guts hit rock bottom. His father was dead and in Hell. There was no way to bring him back. No time to patch up relationships. America was suddenly overwhelmed with a tidal wave of failure.

An awkward silence fell over the small group.

“So,” NATO asked in a commanding way. Moving the conversation to the next stage of action “am I leading a group of six or seven people here?”

“There should be plenty of room on either plane,” America said helpfully. Canada looked up sharply at America’s hollow tone. America leaned over to whisper to Alaska, “You should leave also.”

Alaska glared back at him while whispering in a furious tone, “You make me leave and I will sneak back here and never let you know where I am. So just forget that idea right now.” America quickly dropped the subject and looked back at BE and UK.

UK went quiet for a minute. Her fingers twisting the poor abused cloth in her hands.

“I still can't wrap my head around this being real,” UK said solemnly, looking up to her beloved brother. Her eyes begging to make being with him again to be real.

“I need you to leave. ” the Empire said gently, picking up his sister's hand and giving it a quick squeeze. “I need to know that you are away from here and safe. I have the boys’ that I have to look out for.”

“And what are the chances I'd see you again?” She asked earnestly.

“If I'm honest,” he said gravely, “as lovely as it's been, I hope I won't see any of you.” Amercia could see the thoughts working across UKs face before she burst into tears, clinging to her brother.

Canada moved out of the way for the siblings to talk. Alaska leaned her head on his shoulder as they watched Canada walking over to them. Canada patted his shoulder in brotherly affection. Before guiding Alaska over to Germany and East to discuss plans. America saw the understanding from Canada that he needed a few minutes to process everything alone. America felt his gut sink even lower. This whole situation really made every time he told his father to “go to hell,” sting. Fighting off another massive wave of guilt.

America let himself slip out of the conversations around him. Even when he tried to fix something, he broke it. Why was he so bad at this? He was sober! Wasn't that supposed to mean something? Wasn't he supposed to be smart? He was a world superpower for God's sake!

The mummer of separate conversations washed over him. He didn't really belong or deserve to be in either of them. He always felt like this, a part but not a part of the world around him. All these conversations just served as a reminder again of his place in the world. His part was done here, surely. At least until logistics came up again. ‘Man of Action’ he reminded himself.

Step one, help UK leave BE. Step two, get the rescue group together. Step three, find the kids. Step four, get out of hell. He gave a sad giggle at that. He knew he was coming back here eventually, this was like a sneak peek that he didn’t want.

If nothing else, there was a plan. A shitty plan. But a plan.

“Now we just gotta follow it,” he said to himself.

“You okay?” Poland asked quietly.

America startled and looked at the Slav that seemed to teleport next to him. The concerned look on Poland's face added to America's growing guilt. It was his fault that Poland was in this mess. Being truthful with his gaze, America slowly shook his head at his friend.

He glanced at BE and saw the situation he was in. His beloved sister would not let him go. BE threw him a look that pleaded for help.

America tilted his head at Poland and gestured for him to join the group where Canada and Alaska were talking. Poland glanced at the two on the bench before turning and headed away, giving America a quick encouraging pat on the back.

He walked towards the siblings as BE held a sobbing UK. Kneeling on the floor in front of UK he looked up into her eyes. “I need your help, now more than anything.”

UK looked up in startled interest. America knew that she was incredibly intelligent. Keeping his gaze on her and open and pleading. “I need you to go back and take care of the states for me before more of them show up.” He reached out to grab the hand that was not clutching her handkerchief. Giving it a slight squeeze. “You are the only one that has any hope of reigning them in. We need to know that they are safe.” His eyes slid quickly to BE and then back to UK.

BE gave America the barest nod of his head in approval. UK knew that America was right. There was not another country out there that could wrangle America’s kids. With Canada and America stuck here, she was the only one.

“We have to find the States first.”

Chapter Text

America solemnly watched as the last of the living people boarded the planes. He knew almost everyone, interacted with most of them. Knowing that they were going back to ‘normal’ while he was staying here to save his children. He was lucky to have friends that would stay with him. He also knew that they were using the Article 5 as an excuse.

The Empire in question looked to be having a moment with UK. She didn't seem to take the news of British Empire going to hell very well. Then again, at least she was processing it. She was the last to climb on board. Clinging to the recording that America and Canada had made to give to their respective kids. He knew them all well enough that if they did not have instructions directly from them that they would not listen. Then more of them would show up to ‘help’. The chaos was usually fairly epic. That rebel spirit was still so strong. (Can UK get a picture of her with BE to take with her?)

Canada was helping UK up the stairs and into the plane. The plan was for the planes to escort each other out. His eyes watched Canada’s progress as he helped to seal the door and give the last plane a tap on the hull. He watched but his mind was wrapped up with the next step. America just hoped his father wasn't lying. His eyes absentmindedly traced the departure of the planes, one after the other.

“Dad?” Alaska asked.

“Yeah?” America turned to her, glad for the distraction from the building existential crisis.

“Do you think we can trust what British Empire said?” She asked. (trust what statement?)

So much for that. Kids were always perceptive on things you wanted to avoid!

“With everything else, would it really be the strangest thing?” America asked her, hoping he could break his own anxiety with logic. “Not like he'd have a reason to lie.”

“But, isn't this out of character for him?” Alaska asked.

“Are any of us in character lately?” America joked.

Alaska gave him a worried look.

The rest of the security team quietly swept the area for supplies.

Suddenly America remembered something.

“What are we going to do with Warsaw Pact?” He wondered aloud.

“Can't we just leave him here?” NATO asked.

“Ok, and when he gets loose?” America asked.

“If what I heard is true, he might be a source of information.” Canada said thoughtfully.

“We could just extract the information we need,” Poland suggested. “Then we just off him.”

“If we kill him, he'll just go back to Soviet.” Ukraine carefully packed the remainder of a coffee station into her kitchen bag. “As much as we might want to.”

“Wait, who was guarding him during our meeting?” NATO asked.

Suddenly Russia charged out from the bathroom. He reeked of alcohol and cheap cologne.

“No!” He shouted as the last plane took off. He turned to the security team “why wasn't there an announcement?”

“There were two fucking planes?” America shouted back in bewilderment.

“So?” he asked.

“What were you doing? Drowning yourself in perfume?” Ukraine asked.

“Excuse me for wanting to clean up before sitting in a sealed tube!” Russia said defensively.

“So you were-” NATO suddenly paused. “Where the fuck did you get alcohol and cologne?”

“The gift shop,” Russia answered smoothly.

“The gift shop is a glorified vending machine,” NATO gestured to the broken machine. “Closest thing to booze it would have is mouthwash!”

“It was fine a minute ago,” Russia said, his confusion obvious.

NATO summoned a pistol. “Back in the closet, now.”

Startled, he held up his hands and quickly made his way to the broom closet. Canada opened the door for him, revealing Warsaw Pact sitting in the middle of the floor.

“*Damnit kid that cologne wasn't for you!*” The organization spat in Russian.

“*It was in the men's room! I thought it was free!*” Russia retorted.

“*You said it was in the vending machine!*” America challenged.

“Oh fuck this!” NATO shouted and kicked Russia into the closet and slammed the door shut. Blocking the door with her bodyweight.

“Wait! Kitten! I can explain!” Warsaw Pact yelled through the door.

NATO punched the wall then took a deep breath.

“Well this can't be good for the baby,” America said, hoping to lighten the mood by changing the subject.

NATO let out a primal scream of rage, threw the closet open and slammed the door shut behind her.

Muffled talking came from the other side of the door.

“Dad, you know she was never pregnant right?” Alaska asked. “You were joking right?”

America stared at her. “Why would I joke about that?”

“Don't get him started,” Canada begged as he pinched his nose.

“Did I miss something?” British Empire asked from the entrance.

“Russia is in the closet with NATO and Warsaw Pact, and I as usual have foot in mouth disease.” America sighed in frustration.

“I am not pregnant!” NATO shouted through the door.

“Okay, why is NATO yelling about not being pregnant?” the Empire asked.

“A poorly timed inside joke,” Canada sighed and then glared at America. “That someone will not let die.”

“You really need to work on your enabling habit,” America said, full concern for his brother and organization. “Letting her do her job and follow her contract is one thing but y'all feeding her denial is getting out of hand.”

“America, do you have any reason to believe the lady in question is in denial?” British Empire asked.

“I mean, this whole ordeal has been pretty stressful,” America admitted.

“Has she reacted like that to stress in the past?” British Empire asked, his voice oddly calm.

“Well no, but this has been a uniquely world breaking experience.” America said thoughtfully.

A look of realization blazed on British Empire’s face.

“America, perhaps it's better to let her continue believing that she isn't with child for now?” British Empire suggested. “At least until she's in a better place to face it?”

“Dad, NATO can't -” Canada started but stopped when British Empire gave him the signature Dad look.

America sat with British Empire's suggestion. He was so wrapped up in his own anxiety that he missed it!

‘She’s avoiding it because she's not ready.’ No wonder she's getting angry over this! New parent anxiety! Plus the apparent apocalypse, anyone would crack. And here he was poking at what was likely a very tender nerve.

A nerve just as tender as his addiction. And he continually kept pressing it.

NATO stepped out of the closet and straightened her shirt.

“I am going on patrol. If you interrupt this patrol, you better be dead.” NATO summoned a riffle and walked out of the room. Russia quietly slipped out behind her and gently shut the door.

“The hell happened in there?” Poland asked.

“I need bleach.” Russia said.

“Why?” Poland asked gently.

“Look, I do not know what the hell happened between those two,” Russia said shortly, “I just know NATO’s not pregnant, and definitely not interested in whatever relationship Warsaw Pact is trying to… offer her.”

“Alright, sounds like we need to extract whatever information we can from him and roll out,” America said.

“What do you mean roll out? The only plane left will carry two people tops!” Russia argued.

“Some of America's states came looking for him and needed to make an emergency landing,” Ukraine explained. “We are going to go after them.”

“Actually, this could be an answer to the Warsaw Pact problem if young Russia here is up to it,” BE said thoughtfully.

“Excuse me?” Russia asked rudely.

“We can't exactly take him with us, and leaving him alone is a bad idea.” British Empire explained. “If you stayed here, we could leave him with you.”

“And what's to stop him from stealing my plane?” Alaska objected.

“And what do you plan on doing once you find the states?” Russia asked. “Planes don't typically take emergency landings in the middle of nowhere well.”

“Alabama will get it flying again,” America said.

NATO walked into the waiting area with a full duffle bag in one hand and France over her other shoulder. She tossed both into the middle of the group.

“Why the hell are you still here?” America asked in disbelief.

“I don't know, I was taking a nap!” France answered.

“How did he hide all of that?” Russia asked in bewilderment as he gestured to the full duffle bag.

“Slav magic,” NATO said sarcastically. “Some of it might be useful, I'd rather burn it all.”

“What information did you hope to extract from him anyway?” British Empire asked.

“Mostly what other threats we could expect,” NATO explained as she crossed her arms.

“Well, at night we might have the hunt,” British Empire explained, “that is, a bunch of hell's crazed minions coming to catch us, but being as I am the only one of us who belongs there that should be the only threat to you.”

“Oh yes, because hell without a guide is just so inviting,” NATO said sarcastically.

“Just mind your manners and don't eat anything from strangers and you'll be fine.” He said as if that cleared everything up.

America pulled out the map he had sketched.

“If I drew this correctly,” America said, “our main trek through hell territory should be during the day.”

“Well, there you go!” BE said cheerfully. “If they come after me, just continue on following America's map and I'll meet you at the truth Fields.”

“And you're sure they won't chase us?” Poland asked skeptically.

“I'm the only one they'd have a license to harm.” The Empire explained.

“And if we are there during this ‘hunt’” NATO asked.

“The route I planned runs along the southern border,” BE explained, “just get back to an area that's more green.”

“It's fall?” America asked in bewilderment. “So far, everything looks more orange and brown.”

“Trust me, you'll understand when you see it in the daylight.”