Province stories

Statehood

(1917, Halifax)

America stands by the dominion of Canada. It's a cold and quite dark night, perfectly matching the mood in the air. Canada is sitting on a piece of rubble cleaning up some wounds, "I didn't expect you to come over. Don't you have something better to do?"

America chuckles a little, "What else would I do then support my little brother?"

"It wouldn't be the first time." Canada grumbled. "Remember when we were kids, and we used to run around these docks? Not a care in the world?"

"And Britain would yell at us not to slip, oh and then once we climbed aboard a boat and pre tended to be sailors?"

"I was the sailor, you were always the captain. I'm captain freedom of the SS. AMERICA!" Canada mocked, acting as if he was a kid.

America laughed and elbowed his brother. "I'm sailor maple, reporting for duty!" He raised his hand to salute and Canada cracked a little laugh. "Why did we ever stop doing that?"

The mood dropped and the younger brother let out a small sigh. "You left, I stayed. Dad told me you had left me for good, that you hated me. You know when you won the war he ripped up everything that even talked about you. Y'know that painting of us in dad's office?"

"Aww that's a cute one."

Canada shook his head. "Not anymore, he ripped it to shreds. I tried to stop him but, look what that got me." He sighed, touching his eyepatch.

America felt a pit drop in his stomach. "I'm your older brother, I should've been there protecting you. But I can't change the past, from now on let's be real brothers. No wars, burnt capitals, bad family members, none of it." America held up his hand. "Brothers?"

Canada smiled. "Brothers."

(Modern day, Province house in Ottawa)

"YOH CAN'T EAT FAST FOOD FOR BREAKFAST!" Canada yelled, flipping over a few dozen waffles.

"Oh Canada, don' cha know fast food isn't even that unhealthy?" Texas shrugged taking out a few over salted fries. California stole a few with a slight middle finger.

"I'd prefer Avocado, but really waffles aren't my thing." California said, flipping her hair.

"You all are adults yet you can't even feed yourselves?! Why did I even agree to this- Quebec you're good at cooking right?"

"Est-ce que je ressemble à l'anglais? Bien sûr, je suis bon en cuisine!" Quebec rolled his eyes as he searched something on his phone.

"Then great, you can handle these hooligans, I have a NAFTA meeting." Canada tossed Quebec a spatula and apron and left. "Have a good day bye~"

Quebec muttered a bunch of insults under his breath as he flipped waffles. Ontario walked over from the living room and looked over to the counter. He laughed his head off when he saw Quebec. "OH MY, HA! You can't even cook."

Quebec blushed an embarrassed red. "AHEM! I'm the best cook in this house! Nothing like you English idiots!"

"Have y'all ever been to Popeyes? I clearly am the best cooker here." Louisiana smiled walking into the room and grabbing a spatula.

Ontario rolled his eyes and grabbed it from him. "Your biscuits are dryer then the west cost."

"Oh my god you literal idiots. I make the best food, bloody hell." New York grumbled grappling the spatula and whacking the three with it.

"OH! Waffles!" Nunavut mumbled, climbing up the counter and grabbing a waffle dipped in syrup. "Big brother never makes waffles. They're like a bazillion dollars in Yellwoknife."

Yukon eyed the waffles and ran over. "WAFFLES! AND SUNNY D? Is this family made of billionaires or something?"

Texas shrugged, "I mean... yeah?"

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619 words