Another request from LJ meme:
We've seen pregnancy, babies, children, teens now lets see some Nations with their adult children.
No. States. (/Provinces/Counties/Cities/whatever). Human children, please. (But as many as you like, if you want a child to have siblings. :D) I would prefer USUK, most of all, but will keep this open for any pairing.
Also WARNING this deals with death and the stream of consciousness of a dying man. If that is trigger-y for you please don't read.
His arthritis made it difficult to walk.
His lung cancer made it hard to breath.
His family was bracing themselves.
The old man knew he was going to die, but he didn't think it would be so bad. His dad had raised him to believe in a life after death. Heaven. A place that he still imagined was up in the clouds, even though he knew it was naïve. It'd be nice to not be confined to this body anymore. Samuel Jones-Kirkland was tired of moving slowly, hearing little and seeing blurs. He'd been on hospice since his last round of ineffective chemo.
Dim sunlight flickered into the room during a break in the cloud cover. It was April. April showers brought May flowers.
"And what do May flowers bring?" His dad use to ask him.
"Pilgrims!" He always shouted as a child. Then he and his dad would giggle relentlessly until Father pouted and Dad kissed him.
He watched the two young men at his bedside through sleepy eyes. Someone had just cleaned his bi-focuals, probably his father. Two plush chairs had been dragged up to his bed. The blondes were lightly holding hands. They were Samuel's fathers. His parents were nations. His Dad was the United States of America and his Father was the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. His parents still looked like college students. Nations didn't live forever, but they do live for a hell of a long time.
Pain flared in his joints. It was going to rain soon. He wondered if his parent had ever had human children before him. He'd never thought to ask before.
Samuel pulled the oxygen mask away from his nose, trying to make console them. "It'll be fine," he rasped, "Remember the good times. Let go of the rest."
"Shush Sam," Father whispered, "Save your strength." No one besides his parents still called him Sam.
Dad gently pulled the mask from Samuel's wrinkled hand and placed it back over his face. The blue eyed superpower kissed his brow and smoothed the little bit of hair Samuel had left. Father clutched his hand tighter.
"How about another story?" Dad suggested, "What about the one from April Fool's in '85? Francis had convinced Uncle Mattie to dress up as a girl..."
Samuel smiled at the story remembering a tight black dress, pink scarf and white flags before dozing off.
The old man woke to his daughter, Eliza, walking in with a cup. Her dark hair was up in a pony tail and she was wearing a dark blue hoodie. His little girl always hid in oversized sweatshirts when she was scared or stressed. It made his heart ache to know he was the one upsetting her.
The smell of coffee wafted around the room. Father wrinkled his nose. Eliza smiled and took a sip. Samuel gave a wheezing chuckle behind his oxygen mask. That never got old. Samuel had inherited Father's distaste for coffee. Every time Samuel had seen Dad, the enthusiastic blonde had tried to get him to drink the stuff. Dad had force fed Samuel black cofee, espresso, frappacinos, lattes, café con leche and even coffee ice cream. Samuel didn't like any of them.
Eliza sat beside Father. The blonde nation pulled the young woman into a side hug. His family had been keeping vigil over him for the last day. It'd happen tomorrow or the next day. He could feel it. His soul was flighty. He was falling asleep more often and waking up less. The three spoke above him. It bothered him because he couldn't quite make out what they were saying. He needed to turn his hearing aid up.
Samuel turned his head to the side and stared out the window. It was overcast. He could see the spring flowers trying to poke up through the dark soil. Would he have family waiting for him in heaven? He didn't know. Again he wished he'd asked if his parents had ever had another child. He was exhausted. He'd take another nap. Before he could fully close his eyes, Samuel felt his soul slip away from his body.
Thoughts? Obviously I've never died before but from seeing family members pass I could see a scene like this happening. Did I do Samuel justice?