Chapter Text
His knees met the trampled grass below him, staining his pants with a gross green color. His breath was labored, and he could feel that his inevitable surrender was incoming. Despite this, he lifted his head and grinned at the bayonet aimed at his head, showing off his bloodied teeth and grimy face.
“You gonna kill me now, aintchu? Gonna shoot me dead, after all these years of fightin’.” The Confederacy smiled mockingly, goading on his twin even on death’s door. “D’ya have it in yourself ta kill your precious lil’ brother?”
The Union pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes unforgiving yet filled with remorse. “You know I gotta do this. What you’ve done–what you’ve tried to do, I was never gonna let it happen.” He glanced away to the blood-streaken battlefield, then back at his twin. “You brought this upon yourself, Dixie.”
Despite all his bravado, the moment he heard the gun click filled his heart with an unfamiliar feeling: fear. He was going to be bested by his northern brother and reduced to a blip in history. The Confederacy dryly swallowed, breaths getting more unsteady as the gun’s head pressed into his forehead. His vision swam.
Fear. Paralyzing, strong, fear. As he clenched his hands into tight fists, this fear morphed into something else far more malicious: anger. Anger at not himself, but at the pathetic states that formed him.
Why didn’t they fight harder? How dare they slander my image like this and make me appear weak.
His eyes narrowed with hatred as the country standing above him sighed, tensing his arm. “You got any last words? Any genuine, meaningful words to leave behind for your states?”
Last words? LAST WORDS?? No, I will not have any ‘last words’. This…this will not be the end for me. I have things yet to be accomplished, I have revenge yet to be sought–this will not be my end.
Dixie raised his head, looking the Union in the eye. Without warning, he began to laugh. A hysterical, maniacal laugh that shocked his to-be executioner to the core, and sent a chill to his bones.
“Oh, you ain’t seen the last’a me yet. Mark my words, I’ll be back. I’ll be back, whether it takes me 10 or 50 or even 100 gosh darn years, ya hear me? And all the while, I’ll be hauntin’ ya. You n’ my traitorous states–none’a yall are gettin’ a goodnights’ sleep till’ the day I come back.” The country wobbled unsteadily on his knees, caught up in his vigor. “And I’ll kill all yall that’ve done me wrong!”
The Union closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “I’m not gonna feed into your delusions any longer, Dixie. It’s over. You lost. Your states will be mine.” He curled his lip, disgusted by what his brother had been reduced to. “This is goodbye, Dixie.”
The Confederacy in his craze didn’t hear a single word that came out of the Union’s mouth. As the shot rang out, and as the bullet blew through his skull, only one overwhelming thought stayed in his mind:
Revenge.
And the Confederacy’s hatefulness would prove to be enough to tether him to the mortal realm, from his death all the way up to the current era.
<><><>
The Union stared at his brother’s corpse, now sprawled out onto the grass facedown. If not for the bullet wound in the back of his head, one could think that he had just fallen asleep in a comical position.
The country cast one last look at their twin before entering the Appomattox courthouse, where the treaty to end the war would be signed. As he entered , he saw that Virginia and D.C. were already seated.
“Well, good to see we can start right away. I’m finished with my, ah, business as well, so do you mind telling me what you’re thinking, D.C.?” America addressed his capital while he pulled up a seat.
D.C. adjusted his glasses, examining the papers he held in his hand before passing them to his country. “We haven’t gotten far with negotiations yet. We were waiting for you.” The capital cleared his throat, glancing at America. “How was your…business?”
Virginia spoke for the first time since America entered the room. “What ‘business’ are yall talking about?” She glared at the other two in the room, eyes filled with wariness. “If it’s got anything to do with the other states, I told you–I’m surrendering. So don’t hurt them anymore.”
“No, it’s not that. I had to kill the Confederacy.” America kept his voice light, and was glad when it didn’t waver. D.C. shot him a relieved look, feeling some stress vanish from his chest.
I’m glad he went through with it. I was afraid I’d have to get involved.
Virginia’s eyes darkened, biting her lip out of habit. “I–I suppose that is necessary. You two can’t coexist, after all.” She crossed her arms, fidgeting with her sleeves.
So it really is over now.
“Did he leave any words?” America looked up, meeting her gaze evenly. “You know, words of advice or some shit like that? We did spend 4 years with him, after all.”
America pretended to read over the draft of the treaty, avoiding the question for a few seconds.
”I’ll kill all yall that’ve done me wrong!”
“Well…no. No words.”
Virginia leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. “Of course. I suppose we really didn’t mean all that much to him in the end.” An arm came up to cover her face while the other dangled by her side. “So this is it, isn’t it? The end of the war?”
D.C. nodded briskly. “Yes indeed. Now, if you’ll be so kind as to read over these negotiations for rejoining the union…”
His voice faded into the background as America closed his eyes, feeling years of strain seemingly evaporate from his body. The war has been fought, the winner determined.
So why does a lingering feeling of doom still haunt his mind?
The Confederacy was as dead as you could get. America had checked for a pulse, and found nothing. He was gone.
“...and we’ve decided to allow you all to rejoin with these conditions. Us northern states have talked this through, so it’ll be official once you and your comrades accept the terms.” The country blinked his eyes open, reentering the negotiations once again. He watched as Virginia pondered the treaty, scrutinizing every line with a judgemental eye. He watched as the two debated over conditions that were either too cruel or too lax. He watched as eventually, Virginia gave a reluctant nod and passed the papers back to D.C. with her signature on it.
What was there to worry about?
Those were the rantings of a madman, that was all. The last words of a maniac.
Oh, how wrong he was.