Quickly turning around, he saw no one behind him, weird. But then, he felt a certain clawing feeling at his leg and quickly looked down realizing it was one of his fathers prized corgis, and in fact his favorite corgi.

"Muick! What's up sweet pea? Have you had a good day?" America says in a baby voice, his mood taking a complete 180. Muick, or sweet pea as America liked to call the familiar corgi, sat down at America's feet responding in a small bark and tail wags.

The country knelt down, and violently began to pet the corgi, which caused his sunglasses to slide down his face a bit. Muick began to pant and close his eyes, clearly enjoying all the attention he was getting from his favorite person.

Muick and America go way back, ever since they were both very young and naïve. They basically adopted each other as emotional support and best friends. And because of those events that happened back then, America eventually gave his furry friend the nickname "Sweet pea" that seemed to always stick. Giving one of the royal corgis such a Southern American nickname always made him smile, and he also saw it as a big fuck you to his father.

"Always speak proper English, no matter the occasion." Hearing his fathers voice and words echo in his head, he laughed out loud, making Muick tilt his head to the side a bit. "Oh, sorry, shit maybe I am going crazy being in this shithole." America says towards the dog, a smile growing across his face.

"Eh, who am I kiddin'? Runs in the family I guess," he says, pausing mid-sentence forgetting what he was going to ask his furry friend. It took him a second, but as quick as his thoughts left him they returned. He clapped his hands together before speaking again.

"Oh, fuck, y'know this is going to make me think I'm even more insane honestly. But, do.. You know where the stairs are sweet pea..?" America couldn't believe what the actual fuck just came out of his mouth, but that's honestly alright, he just hoped no one heard him speak with a dog and him asking said dog for directions.

The dog seemed to understand his long time best friend and stood up, with America following his actions. America brushed himself off, making extra sure he still had his phone in his pockets, as he watched Muick spin around maybe 3 to 4 times before trotting off in the direction the country had previously come from.

The corgi was going somewhat fast, making America jog to catch up with his little legs. Muick looked behind him to make sure America was following close behind, with America giving the dog a small nod of acknowledgement.

Continuing the way the corgi was taking him, he passed by more workers for the palace and even saw some familiar faces from early on. As they continued their journey, turning into many hallways, America saw a particular group of workers. The evil ass maids that have worked in the palace ever since America could remember, and just his luck! The minute he entered the hallway still followed Muick, they all made eye contact.

America pushed up his sunglasses to try and make it seem like he wasn't, but deep down inside they all knew. And before he knew it they started talking amongst themselves, probably about him and whatever the fuck they think he's doing.

The group of maids started walking towards him, so he thought of a nice plan right before he left the building. A big ol' fuck you to this horrible group of evil ass old women and his father. America let out a low whistle, trying to signal to the dog to slow down a bit. Muick's head turned instantly towards the noise and stopped completely, waiting for America's next command.

The maids, still talking amongst themselves, watched this action and paid it no attention. Silly boy and his silly dog, right? Nothing suspicious at all! America's face lit up, a devious smirk now plastered on his face as he slowly walked up to where Muick was now sitting. The dog looked back at America, panting, wondering what he was going to do.

America waited for the right moment, and right as the group of maids walked by him, he stuck out his foot. This caused one of the maids to trip, causing her to fall onto the other two maids in front of her, making a big ass THUD that echoed throughout the halls.

"God dammit, you child!" The maid America tripped said, causing him to burst out into a fit of laughter. "What are you laughing at? I should tell your father about this!" One of the fallen maids said, America not being able to decipher which one said it.

'Mhm, you do that skank. Consider it pay back for all the years we had, what a bloody lovely time that was, huh?!" America says, doing his best impression of a British accent. After that, he let out another whistle that caused Muick to start moving again. The maids, groaning in frustration and in pain, watched as America skipped away while sticking his tongue out at them like a child. Sweet revenge he'd think, a pep in his step now. God, did that make him unbelievably happy. He continued to giggle like a little kid until Muick stopped right in front of a grand stairwell.

Muick sat down facing America as he kneeled down and gave the dog a few pats on the head. "Aren't you the best navigator in the entire world, huh? You're such a reliable sweet pea, what would I have done without you?" America watched as the dog's small tail began to wag rapidly, panting once again at the compliment he had just gotten. Muick, to say the least, was probably very proud of himself for helping his friend.

America then wrapped his arms gently around the dog, slowly lifting him up into his arms, and stood back up. The royal corgis were never good with stairs, their little legs taking them ages to go up and down the large staircase. And America wasn't just going to abandon his sweet pea, that'd be a crime. So, walking down the stairs with a little extra weight was not even a problem. America began to walk down the stairs on the left side, as Muick rested his head on the country's shoulder.

America made sure to be careful and quick going down the stairs, despite his better mood he wanted nothing more than to leave this house. He yearned for his comfortable bed back home with all the pillows and blankets. The nice warm and inviting atmosphere, the people there having a fake facade of liking him, and the power. America hated to admit it, but he has developed some kind of complex since gaining his freedom. Feelings of being controlled, being powerless, or anything among those sorts made him panic and feel weak, and America was not weak.

America pulled himself out of his thoughts as his feet reached the ground floor. Upon this realization, he set the dog down. Muick sat down, like the good boy he was, waiting for America to do something. As the country was about to open his mouth to speak he heard the way too familiar sound of something clacking on the ground. Muick immediately stood up and ran towards the source of the noise, making America sigh. Yea, so maybe Muick also loved his father but that doesn't mean he loves him more then him! Muick only likes that Brit because he feeds him and sneaks biscuits under the table.

Watching as his sweet pea ran off, America walked the opposite direction. You could get to the garden in the direction the corgi ran, but he did not want another run in with his father. In all honesty that way is much quicker, but going the way he was going will lead him to the same destination. Whatever, he'd think to himself, either way I'm getting there it doesn't matter. America would zip back up his hoodie to the point where you can barely see his collar bones. Taking a hand and slicking back his hair the best he could, fixing his sunglasses, and dusting off his pants, finally taking care of his appearance to not give his dear mother a heart attack.

Very quietly humming some random 90s rock song stuck in his head, he reached a door that led to the gardens. Maybe this way was quicker, or he forgot which side had the quicker entrance to the garden. Either way he's here, staring at the door. Pushing up his sunglasses one last time and taking a deep breath, he opened the door and walked out.

It was very nice and beautiful out. The sun was setting, making all the nature around him glow a variety of colors and to him the weather has been the best since he was here. Taking one look around made him spot his mother and little brother, and silently, he walked over to them. Thankfully, Canada hasn't noticed him yet as America approached him silently from behind. His mother noticing the older son and his actions made her stay quiet, still actively listening to whatever the younger country was spewing out of his mouth.

America counted his steps, making sure to avoid anything that will make the slightest bit of noise. Canada was known for his love of hunting, and because of his obsession, he had developed such a good sense of hearing he could probably hear the cells in his body moving around. America was in position, waiting for Canada to put down the tea cup near his mouth to try and avoid making a huge mess.

Then, the perfect moment happened. America slammed his hands onto his younger brother's shoulders and screamed "RAHH!" in his ears. This caused Canada to jump, which caused America to be accidentally hit in the face with one of Canada's hands. France was the first to burst out into laughter, sounding as elegant as ever, followed by America who was now holding his cheek. America could see the embarrassment on his younger brother's face as he began to laugh as well.

"Man, I'm surprised I got you there! You didn't hear me at all?" America would say, wrapping an arm around his younger brother's neck in a half hug, his other hand stuffing itself into the pocket that contained his dead phone.

"Aw, hey, to be fair I thought you were some rodent by how quiet you were... it wasn't worth all the effort to turn around!" Canada would say, a big smile on his face as he returned the hug with one of his arms.

"Me.. some kinda rodent... ouch Canada.... I'm so.... hurt.." America took off his sunglasses, pouting and pretending to wipe away fake tears as he took a seat in one empty chairs at his mother and brothers table. Canada then punched his older brother in the arm softly, knowing the limits to his own strength, as he giggled. Frances' laughter stopped as she spoke up looking towards her eldest son putting back on the glasses,

"Aw, mon garçon! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Aw, please mama, the pleasure is all mine. I just came down to spend a little time with the both of you before I.." America leaned back in the metal garden chair he was sitting on, feeling the design imprint into his back. France and Canada waited for what the country was going to say, but before America could finish his sentence his younger brother spoke up.

"Man, don't tell me you're already leaving. We both agreed to stay until the next meeting bro, and that isn't until another week.. Or so..." Canada would say, damn, reading America like an open book. America let out an awkward laugh as he made eye contact with his younger brother, then gave a quick glance to his mother who was sitting there sipping her tea listening to the entire conversation.

"Dammit, y'know, you're way too good at analyzing what the hell I'm thinking. Like some kinda mind reader. But yea, sadly, I'm leaving earlier than expected." America had to admit it, but now he needed to think of some kind of excuse that didn't relate with his father. That'll make him seem weak, he's better then leaving over another puny argument with the old geezer.

"Awn, mon chéri... please don't tell me it's about your father.." France would let out a big sigh after speaking. She would hate to see her son leave because of petty family drama and differences. America felt himself frown, leaning back from the chair and placing his elbows on the table in front of him. He then placed his sunglasses on the space before him, which caused Canada to have a little bit of shock on his face.

Then making eye contact with his mother he thought to himself, what will he say to his dear ol' mother?