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Spoken like a Promise

Summary:

Spain won't response to Florida, so he does what he always does when his daddy issues act up, he goes to his stupid tall younger sibling
the brothers have a small proxy argument to avoid a much more important argument they've been putting off for 200 years

they still love each other

(this is much softer and more serious than i'm making it sound)

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

Florida’s finger hovered over send, rereading the simple Spanish sentence over and over again. 

 

He hated feeling like this, he was the chaos state, he threw himself at danger without a second thought, and barely a first thought. He shouldn’t care so much, or feel so messy, or be so scared

 

He stared at the years of text messages he’d sent his father, he had never replied. Florida only got his number from one of Loui’s pa visits. 

 

Loui’s pa visited him. 

 

He wasn't jealous, he couldn't be, not when France practically treated him like another son.  

 

He sent the message and threw his phone down, adding to an essay worth of unread words. Florida could barely write in English, too worried that it would replace Spanish, he couldn’t handle the disappointment if his father finally returned only to find Flordia didn't know their language. 

 

No matter how much easier reading would make his job or how long it's been since he’d last seen Spain, he didn't trust his dyslexia with the grammar rules of two languages. The memories of learning to read and write the first time grated against him, putting the final nail in the coffin of ever trying again. 

 

He hated feeling like this. 

 

He needed company, the quiet made him want to tear his skin off. He considered calling Loui but hesitated.

 

Loui was his perfect partner in every way, he made him think his ideas through without ever shutting him down but Loui wasn’t safety, he was caution. 

 

Loui made him think just realistically enough to make sure his plans went off without a hitch or a fatal injury, he brought him down to earth.

 

The last thing Florida wanted was to see this situation realistically, he wanted to be up in the clouds, untouchable, safe. 

 

When was the last time he had felt that safe, it had been in the Spanish empire, hadn't it? But that wouldn’t make sense, what about Spain was safe-?

.

.

.

 

Oh, he knew what it was. 

 

Florida curled up, pulling his legs against his chest, giving one last look to his phone before snapping away. 

 

“Oh, for the love of god! What the fuck do you want -?!” California paused his indignation at Florida, once again, teleporting directly into his house with no warning when he saw the other state. 

 

He was sitting on the floor, facing away from California, his head pressed between his knees. 

 

“Oh wow uh, you all aight dude?” He tilted his head to the side to try to get a look at his face. 

 

Florida peaked an eye out before turning his body just enough to make grabby hands. 

 

“Oh,” California just barely said before sliding off the coach to join Florida on the ground. He scarcely had a chance to open his arms before Florida barreled into him, wrapping both his arms around California’s back, squeezing his face against his chest.

 

California rested his arms over Florida’s lower back, his brother could almost hear him mentality scrambling for the correct thing to say. In the meantime he enjoyed the feeling of his gentle breathing. 

 

He doesn't think the Spanish Empire was ever safety, he left every interaction a bit queasier. 

 

But then he would turn to the room just down the hall with the door that was always open to him; where his brother would be waiting with open arms, a quip on his tongue about their father’s behavior that almost convinced Florida they were a normal functional family and a gentle hum on his soft voice that would lure him to sleep no matter how worked up he was. 

 

That was safety. This was safety. 

 

“This about Spain?” Cal asked quietly. Florida blearily opened eyes he didn't remember closing. “I can’t think of another reason you’d come to me over literally anyone else.” 

 

Florida nodded after a moment, feeling a hand start carding through his hair. “He still won’t say anything to me, even now, when texting would literally be so quick but nooooooooooo.” 

 

Cal sighed softly in that way he always does when Florida has expectations for their father. “He always could have sent a letter.” It comes out bitter. 

 

Flo huffs, “Yeah but that's like, sooo much work, I get it.” 

 

The bitterness only gets darker. “He had, centuries .” 

 

Florida doesn’t respond, he knows from experience that no matter how hard he pushes Cal would never outright state exactly what he thinks but he decides against risking it anyway. 

 

He nuzzles further against him. “Can you sing me something?” 

 

He snorts, “you want me to rub your back too, little prince?”

 

“Hey, I’m still older than you,” Florida groans. “And yes, please.” 

 

One of Cal’s arms keeps a tight grip on Flo while the other begins to trail across his back. He starts humming the tone of an old lubally he would  sing to him as colonies, occasionally slipping into lyrics where he remembered them.

 

The song evolved into something Florida didn’t recognise as the moment stretched on but it was soft and comfortable so he really couldn't care. 

 

It wouldn’t take long before the heat of the room became unbearable between the two of them. California’s smell of citrus and salt water reflected his own, with a mix of vanilla and wildfire smoke.  

 

“Am I a bad big brother?” Flo heard Cal’s voice hitch in his throat as his body stiffened under him. 

 

Florida felt himself drawn further up, his head tucked under Cal’s chin, their chests pressed firmly together. “No. Never. You’re the best I could have gotten.” 

 

“I’m, pretty sure this is supposed to be the other way around.” Flo’s grip tightened, his hands tangling in spools of hair spilling across Cal’s back. He wasn’t sure he had ever held his brother in the same way before. 

 

“You always took the brunt of it, this is the least I could do.” Florida was destructive, hyperactive and had a distaste for all and any authority figures - a textbook problem child.

 

The fact that California only set things on fire accidentally made him pretty well behaved by comparison. 

 

“Maybe you would have gotten some of dad’s attention if it wasn’t for me.”

 

“God please, the last thing I needed was more of Spain’s attention.” A shiver ran through Cal so deeply Florida half thought it was an earthquake. He spoke more quietly. “I’m not sure what I would have done without you, what he would have done if we were alone for all that time.” 

 

A question pushed itself to the front of Florida’s mouth. 

 

California refused to talk about what happened in the years after Florida left the empire for the union; All he knew was by the time Cal became a US territory he had stopped calling Spain his father, had a desperate need for independence and was somehow even more protective over Florida. 

 

He swallowed it back, he was sure if he could handle the answer right now if his brother actually told him this time

 

“He loved us.” He said instead, it came out far away and distant. “I remember, even if he doesn't anymore. I bet he could again.” 

 

California didn't respond.

 

“He chose to take us in.” Florida continued. “That has to mean something.”

 

“Colonies were a useful form of power consolidation. Participating was necessary to keep pace with the other European empires.” He had taken on that annoying condescending monotone voice that made Florida blood boil. 

 

“He didn't have to adopt us, he didn't have to raise us. Britain never treated his colonies like children, at least not the OG 13.” Cal just dismissively sighed. A growl bubbles in Flo's throat before he keeps rambling. “We could have been anything else to him-”

 

Cal went still, so still that Flo pulled back to check his face after making sure his heart was beating.  

 

He saw foggy eyes that threatened tears, “yeah… yeah, you’re right, we could have- he could have- Anything.” California was barely talking to Florida anymore. 

 

“Cali?” Flo had gotten lost again - he was doing so good this time. Why was Cal’s voice so breathy, why was he so scared, like ‘anything’ meant something else, something more. “You know something I don’t again.” 

 

He looked back at him, blinking his eyes clear. “Right, sorry dude.” He takes a deep breath. He gave a weak smile after a moment before going in for one last tight squeeze. “We’re okay now, that’s what matters. It's only going to keep getting better.” 

 

He speaks it like a promise.

 

 Flo beamed, that manages to get a proper smile out of Cal. Satisfied, he leans back and lets his brother get up. 

Chapter 2: Cali goes to sensory hell and Spain doesn't help

Summary:

Spain absolutely refuses to be normal about his new kid being autistic and non-verbal, he's far more normal about said kid being on fire

Yes, the idea of states/colonies being formed as full ass adults in body and mind and still internally children does drive me insane how could you tell

please keep in mind that Cal has known this man for a week at most if you're really stretching definition of 'a few days' and at no point in his internal monologue refers to him as his father

Notes:

i am writing from experience so if I got anything wrong no I didn't
where's my 'uncomfy is infinitely worst than pain' crowd

Spain's abuse is suppose to be kinda banal, coming from poor reactions to situations rather than being situations in themselves, someone who assumes that they can definitely parent well and thus can never get better cause they refuse to admit they're bad, with a dash of the natural opportunistic based approach of an colonist empire
like, Spain ignoring so fucking hard the fact California is absolutely very emotive in his facial expressions, body language and tone, its so clear what he's trying to communicate all the time

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

His vision blurred, consumed by flashing reds and oranges. His skin was a mix of strange numb tingling and oppressive heat that seemed to bite into him. 

 

It was loud too. The roaring was almost comfortable in the way it blocked out all other noises.

 

California was a little confused, and he’d spent the better part of the last few days very confused. 

 

On his land there were things he understood intrinsically, the trees, the rivers, the beaches, the mountains. They made sense to him. 

 

There had been very little of that since he’d been brought here. Everything had to be explained and shown to him and he seemed to be expected to explain things too. 

 

He found some comfort in this, despite the pain. It made sense to him; even if he didn't know what it was. 

 

It was a part of him, came from him. 

 

It hurt. 

 

But it also felt, bad

 

Was he supposed to stop it? Could he? 

 

The bright lights were beginning to distress him, they didn't go away no matter how tightly he squeezed his eyes shut. 

 

There was something in his lungs. 

 

The sense of comfort was gone, this was wrong wrong , he needed it to stop. 

 

He had probably been wailing this entire time but he only just started to notice. 

 

He needed help. Shouldn’t Spain have come by now? 

 

He told California he was his ‘father .’ That meant he was supposed to come, right? 

 

Then again maybe he did, Cal couldn't see or hear, he could be in the room right beside him. Why hadn’t he stopped it, maybe he couldn’t? Maybe he’d decided to let it run its course. It was natural to Cali. What if Spain didn't want it to stop.

 

It's not like California could do anything about it.

 

His thoughts cut off as a freezing cold blanketed him leaving him gasping; it took him a moment to realize he was soaked. 

 

He blinked a few times, his eyes coming back into focus. His skin felt raw and sensitive. Something was still trying to expel itself from his lungs. 

 

His gaze drifted upwards.

 

“Well, that's an…  interesting quirk.” Spain stood over him, holding a freshly emptied pal. “Perhaps I should have expected this, given where you’re from.” 

 

Cal was shivering, the cold was almost worse than the pain. 

 

Spain lowered himself, trying to catch Cal’s eyes, frowning when he looked away. “Come on up, you're sitting in a puddle.” 

 

He looked down, ashy water dripping off him and onto the wooden floor. 

 

Oh, he couldn't be happy about that. 

 

Cali disentangled him slowly, whimpering at the new dry aches and pains. He clumsily reached out to grab at Spain, trying to bring himself closer. 

 

Spain quickly caught his wrists, pushing them back toward himself. “Not right now Mijo, you’re covered in water and soot.” 

 

Cal mewled at him.

 

He groaned, “this would be easier if you’d just speak , what do you want, child ?”

 

He just made the same desperate noise. 

 

Spain seems to give up after that, rolling his eyes. He led California to sit aside while he cleaned up the spill. 

 

Cali rocked back and forth, trying to retain some kind of heat. The feeling of the ash pressing and rubbing into his skin forcing more whines from him. Spain kept stopping him from removing the wet clothes, prompting him to ‘properly’ ask for what he wanted. 

 

“I don't think I’m asking much, most representatives can speak from the first day, and you clearly have a voice, I’m having difficulty understanding what exactly is wrong with you?” He rambled as he worked - Cali mostly tuned him out, this wasn’t the first time he heard all of this in the few days he’d been here. 

 

He didn't even notice when he stopped; caught completely off guard when a towel soaked with freezing cold water was dropped over his shoulders.  

 

California shrieked, immediately trying to shake it off and move away from the frigid feeling. 

 

Spain wrapped an arm around him, manhandling him upright to keep the towel in place. 

 

His voice was almost gentle, though there was clear frustration in it. “Will you just relax, I’m trying to make sure you don't flare out again. I would hope you don’t want to burn the house down.” 

 

Cal was still squealing, he didn't know what ‘flare out’ meant or what the cold had to do with it, he just wanted it to stop. 

 

He looked up, forcing himself to meet Spain’s gaze in the hope that would get through to him. He got quieter, the gnawing discomfort clawing its way up his throat.  

 

Spain suddenly stopped as the door opened, his grip loosening. The voice that echoed out was deep but had a young curiosity.

 

 “The hell you doing in here, papa? It sounds like a dying pig.” 

 

Cali had known someone else lived in the house but Spain seemed to be purposely avoiding introducing the two. 

 

He took the chance the distraction gave him and slipped out of his grasp - he made another grab at him but couldn't get a grip - He immediately threw the towel off and moved to the furthest corner from Spain. 

 

The colony in the door turns to him, excited. “Hola! I’m La Florida! You’re my new brother right?” 

 

Brother?

 

Cal gave a little wave back. 

 

“Oh, I really didn't want you two meeting like this-” Spain grumbled as rose to his feet. 

 

“-So you were planning to introduce us eventually?” Cal flinched at the interruption, whipping back to Spain to watch his reaction. 

 

He growled back “Yes. Florida,” he took a deep breath to calm himself, “once California was a little more well-acquainted with existence . I wasn't planning on you two never meeting while living in the same house.” 

 

Florida’s eyes lit up. “He’s a newborn newborn?”

“I have no idea how long he was wandering alone but he’s only been in my possession for a couple of days. He still seems either unable or unwilling to speak.”

 

Cali curled up further into himself, making a quiet distressed noise in some false hope to not be completely left behind in the conversation about him.  

 

“Cool!” Florida practically hopped over to him, getting very close very quickly. “Are you a northerner? You look cold. Do you like beaches? Are there beaches up north?”

 

It took Cal a moment to process that he was being talked to and that meant he was supposed to respond. 

 

He shook his head, gesturing downwards. 

 

Flo gasped, “Southerner like me! So you must have beaches! You like em?” 

 

Did this colony only know how to yell?

 

Cal hesitantly nodded but the question confused him. Of course he liked his beaches, he liked all of himself?

 

Spain butted in, sounding annoyed. “I doubt he’s been to a beach in that sense-” 

 

Florida gasped loudly. “-We have to take him!” 

 

He got up, beginning to walk over to the two of them. “Only if you are very good, you hear me, if you’re not obedient enough for church you not going to-” 

 

He didn't get to finish before he agreed “-Deal!” 

 

Spain yanked on Flo’s shoulder, bringing him close. He spoke in a low voice “-I’ve Told To Stop Interrupting Me.” 

 

California had only just met him but the nervousness on his face still seemed ill fitted. 

 

“Okay?” Spain pressed after he failed to respond. 

 

“Right uh course papa,” Flo rambled in a smaller voice. 

 

“Good.” Spain nodded stiffly, “go now Mijo, your brother needs to get cleaned up.”

 

Florida glanced back at Cal. “huh, how did you get covered in ash-?”

“-I said Now.”

 

“Right!” He squeaked. Scrambling out of the room, peaked around the corner to give Cali a quick parting wave.

 

Cal returned it as fast as he could. 

 

Spain breathed out. “Yes yes I know he’s a lot, you don’t really get used to it.” He laughed half mockingly. 

 

Cali tilted his head, making a confused sound, he seemed nice? 

 

“Come hither, I’ve heated a bath.” He gestured to him before moving towards a side room. 

 

The steam of the room felt incredible against his cool body, soothing skin dried out from the flames. 

 

Spain turns to him in a dramatic sweep. His eyes searched Cal a moment with some kind of expectation he couldn’t place before he sighed in defeat. 

 

“You are free to undress.” 

 

It was barely out of his mouth before Cali hastily started stripping the dirty clothing off. He glanced up to see Spain also removing a few layers before rolling up his white sleeves to his elbows. 

 

Spain’s eyes fell on him a moment before immediately darting away, collecting himself. 

 

California trailed curiously over the bath, dipping a hand in the warm water. He snickered a little as he swirled his hand around. A thin layer of bubbles collected on the surface that had an odd but pleasant smell. 

 

“Before-” Spain cleared his throat. “Before you get in I just need to check something.”  

 

He was looking at him properly now, a hand fell on his arm tracing until a swift jolt of pain stabbed through him. “Aha-mmn!” 

 

“You have some burns, the cool water numbed them before.” Is that why he forcefully chilled him, Cal probably would have preferred the pain. “And, can you look at me?”

 

Cal angled his head to stare at Spain's face before resting his gaze on his hair- 

 

He snarled, “Properly. Mijo.” 

 

Eye contact always felt wrong, this was worse; there was something dark in Spain’s expression he didn't recognise, he wanted to shrink away - needed to get away. 

 

“Are you listening?” 

 

He hastily nodded. 

 

“Good.” It’s almost soft, almost affectionate but it’s far more something else that Cal struggled to place and really didn’t like. 

 

“No one else is allowed to see you like this,” He gestured to Cal’s bare body. “Humans won’t understand that you’re not an adult. And you’re far too pretty a colony to be trusted around other empires, especially with those golden eyes~” he added the last past quietly, wistfully. “Understood?” 

 

Another nod, lowering his head seemed like the right decision for once.

 

Spain smiled at him.

 

He didn’t know how he felt about that. 

 

He helped him into the soapy water, California practically melted into it - even as it stung his burns. He relishes the new experience, the dirt peeling off him leaving feeling clean for the first time. The humming noise coming from him almost a purr. 

 

“A taste for the finer things?” Spain’s voice suddenly reminded him he was still there. He sat at the edge of the tub, a fond note in his tone. “Me too.” 

 

-

 

“You never helped me in the bath? Even when I was - really- new.” Florida was sitting on the floor in front of his new brother, being allowed to stay after begging his father. California was perched at the end of the bed with his legs pulled up to his chest while Spain ran a brush through his hair. 

 

“You never needed it.” He grabbed another chunk of Cali’s hair, feeling him flinch at the tug. “I really didn't have the time for the four hours it took to get all the swamp grime off of you either.” 

 

Florida giggled chaotically at that, a noise that California was coming to treasure. “And Cali does?” 

 

“...Yes,” Spain hesitated a moment. “I believe California is less developed than you were at his age, I was worried about leaving him alone.” 

 

Spain doesn't seem to notice the flash of confused hurt on California’s face, but Florida does. He tries his best sympathetic face - Cal weakly smiles back before looking back down. 

Notes:

yes the scenes between Cal and Spain are suppose to feel incredibly weird and have a uncomfortable tension thanks for noticing

also happy birthday to me :)

Notes:

the most siblings ever, the Disney duo, the Sunshine Siblings, Drama and Chaos here to ruin your day

if y'all wanna speculate on what happened between Spain and Cal i'm all ears, i wanna see the fear you fill in the blanks with

Cali like "Spain isn't my father anymore but you can rip Flo out of my cold dead hands"