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Fighting Family

Chapter Text

“Did Scotland never teach you any English?” England asked, sitting across the table from Poland. It was 1940, and Poland had just arrived from his homeland. England had to admit, he thought Poland would look much worse, but he did have an inkling he was wearing a mask. Poland didn’t look well, by any means, it was obvious that whatever had been happening to him for the last few months must have been incredibly painful and straining. Despite this, he looked extremely determined, his eyes almost shining in the dim light of the office, he looked ready to fight despite everything.

“Only a little” Poland said with a strong Polish accent, but he seemed unbothered by it.

“Well um-”

“Polski?*” He asked, with a glimmer in his eyes

“What? No I-”

“Scotland speaks Polish”

England furrowed his eyebrows slightly, annoyed. The mention of his brash older brother making him a bit on edge.

“francais?*” Poland continued, shifting slightly in the wooden chair

“no- no definitely not” England said quickly, he spoke French fluently, of course, but he didn’t want to speak in French for God knows how long, no way.

“sign language?”

England’s jaw dropped “you know sign language? Why?”

Poland gave a shrugging gesture, almost playful. He was joking, of course. How odd.

England sighed and rolled his eyes “Were not going to be able to use sign language when in the air, you know”

Poland frowned, seeming a bit annoyed. England was annoyed too. Here they were, in the middle of a war and without France around anymore how was England meant to communicate with Poland? That and… England knew Poland wasn’t all that happy to see him, and he couldn’t blame him for it.

Poland had waited for help to come until he knew it wouldn’t, fighting for himself. However, after a while he mysteriously appeared in England, which the Brit still lacked any solid explanation for. Poland seemed like the last nation to ever leave his home, so how bad must it have been for him to decide that he would be of better help somewhere else?

“Lets try again” England said slowly, and Poland seemed to stiffen for a moment, as if reminded of something - odd, but England went on.

“You arrived on an aeroplane, so im assuming that means you fly well enough to fly warplanes?” he asked, hoping Poland understood him.

Poland seemed to wonder for a moment, and suddenly nodded quickly “wiem jak latać*”


“Latać. Samolotem*”

“pardon?” England was becoming very annoyed, why was Poland speaking Polish when he knew England couldn’t understand it?!

The dry look in Poland’s eyes gave England his answer, England had just been treating him the same way, opting for his native language even though he knew the other wouldn’t understand.
He sighed, and the two were silent for a moment.

“Samolot, samo – lot, fly on it own” Poland finally broke the awkward silence.

England was surprised when Poland had spoken again, and titled his head “fly on its own? I don’t understand”

“Samo – alone, lot – um… fly- flying” Poland was making an obvious effort, seeming surprisingly patient with England’s complete lack of understanding. He suddenly grabbed a piece of paper and hesitated for a moment.

“Can I have a pencil?” he asked slowly, making England smile a bit, the way Poland had accented it was almost exactly like Scotland’s way of speaking.

“Can I?” he repeated, looking a bit flustered, had he said something wrong?

“Oh- yes of course you can” England quickly got a pencil from some stack of random things near the desk and passed it to the other nation, and Poland smiled “dzięki”*.

After a moment of scribbling he lifted the piece of paper, pointing with the pencil “samolot, it is something that flies on its own”

“Oh! Aeroplane! You’ve been talking about an aeroplane this whole time?”

“Aero… Plane?” Poland responded, looking almost insulted “Makes no sense”

England frowned “What makes no sense?”

“The word”


“Samolot makes sense” Poland added, shrugging.

“So does Aeroplane!” England huffed, and Poland raised an eyebrow.

“Aero – Plane, it is...” England started, his eyes slightly widening in surprise.

“Its because its a vehicle that isn’t on the ground plane, instead its in the areo - which means air, plane” England said, slowly, surprised. He had never thought of it that way, he didn’t see a reason to.

This seemed to please Poland and he smirked “Now it makes sense” He said smugly and England cracked a smile as well, out of all the things he thought Poland did, he didn’t think dissecting words would be one of them.

“Aeroplane” Poland repeated, trying to mimic England’s accent “Yes, I know aeroplanes” he continued, straightening up “I fly aeroplanes”

England looked as if a heavy weight was finally off his chest “how well?”

“The best, I am the best”

“Thats all I needed to hear” England said, a rare grin appearing on his face, and Poland hesitated

“Really? Thats all? No other talking ever of needing again?” Poland asked jokingly, amused.

England shook his head quickly “Oh- no- yes of course we need to communicate much more and much better, but we will, with time”

“We have not much time”

“Oh yes, we are in a bit of a tight position but-”

“-but I learn fast” Poland said, grinning, a determined look which England had only heard about appearing on Poland’s face. Something about that look made England feel a surge of determination as well, for what, he wasn’t sure.



Chapter Text

“I didn’t know so many of your people would be willing to be here” England said as him and Poland stood in front of long rows of soldiers, all of them Polish.

“It is not like they had much of choice” Poland said with a shrug, and England felt a sting in his chest, looking to the other nation. He had his eyes focused on his people, brimming with pride for them “This is war, no one of us can choose not to fight, if we don’t, we have no honor”

England’s eyes widened “oh um- right, yeah” he said, looking back at the soldiers “thats what I was thinking” he added quickly, but he noticed Poland seemed not only proud, there was a great sadness in him, and England wanted to speak up, tell him that they will go fight for his homeland too, but they wouldn’t, and England knew not to feed Poland false hope.

They stood there together, looking at the people who by the skin of their teeth made it to England from their country, joining the fight against the Axis despite the fact that their friends and families didn’t get that from the very country they were fighting for now. England didn’t know what to think of it, he wasn’t the type to pry into other countries feelings, especially someone he wasn’t particularly close to such as Poland, but it nagged at him, how was Poland able to stand next to him?

This nagging thought followed well into the night as him, Poland and many Polish and British soldiers were enjoying themselves at one of the many training bases, drinking and talking.

Poland seemed to be energetic as ever, only having split seconds of looking completely lost, and England barely caught those moments.

Poland was the life of the party, everyone seemed to be fasciated by him, even though his English was so disjointed. This made England feel almost jealous as the smaller nation seemed to not need words to impress his peers.

When Poland stepped out for a smoke, England followed him.

“How are you liking everything?” that was an awkward question, but what else was England supposed to say?

“Liking it, it is very chill, for a war” Poland said, putting a cigarette in his mouth.

“Well we- were still preparing”

“I did not mean that as something bad” an amused glimmer appeared in Poland’s eyes, but England felt that he may be faking it. England had the luxury to prepare, Poland hadn’t.

England hesitated, looking at Poland, he was still trying to light his cigarette and when he finally lit it he lifted his green gaze to meet England’s, looking a bit confused at why the other nation was staring at him.

“Do you want one?”

“one what?”

“papieros, obviously” Poland said, rolling his eyes, and England felt a bit embarrassed

“oh- yeah sure, a pep-.. um, a cigarette” he reached his hand out and Poland passed him a cigarette and lit it for him.

“cigarette” Poland repeated as he breathed out a puff of smoke.

“yeah….” England really wanted to ask Poland about how he was doing all this, how he seemed so casual and nonchalant when he was walking with a limp, looking so worn out, and just in general despite his best efforts, looking quite battered.

“what is it?” Poland rested his elbows on the railing of the porch, noticing England’s hesitation “do you not like papie- cigarettes?”

“how are you acting so normal” England finally blurted out, wishing he had asked that a bit more gracefully.

Poland paused his smoking, the tobacco slowly burning at the nub. England wished for a moment that he hadn’t asked, was that stepping over a boundary?

He stayed silent for a moment longer, before lightly pressing the cigarette to his lips again, inhaling, and then slowly breathing out a puff of smoke, closing his eyes.

“What else am I supposed to do?” he asked, looking almost bored with England’s question, he was smiling, but his eyes looked tired and almost sad.

“I-… I don’t know, you just- I know the war just started so its not like much could have happened but-” England suddenly dropped his cigarette as Poland grabbed the collar of his shirt in a swift motion with one hand, pulling him dangerously close. Poland looked enraged.

“A lot. A lot happened” he clarified, in an icy yet calm tone which almost reminded England of Russia, not taking his eyes away from England’s, he looked extremely angry “you don’t know, because you was not there”.

England didn’t know how to respond to that, but he didn’t have to, because Poland suddenly let go of his shirt, seeming to look almost guilty for having become so angry.

“I don’t see point in showing pain, I can do that when my people are free” he said, looking away.

“I just want to give it my all, anywhere I am, I want Germany to pay, and back home I… It is hard- harder to do” he put out the cigarette on the railing.

“Here I know I can fight, and I want to fight, I want him to pay” there was a lot of unspoken words that seemed to be emanating from Poland, which England wasn’t quite able to grasp just yet.

“And you will. We will” England said suddenly, placing a hand on Poland’s arm, which made Poland flinch slightly, but then looked at England with slight surprise before smiling.

“Yeah, together” he said with a slight edge but gave England a grin. It was very charming in a way, and England couldn’t quite explain to himself why that simple gesture made him feel happy. Maybe it was just Poland’s energy? Maybe his perseverance? Whatever it was, England was becoming more and more at ease and excited to have Poland by his side in these upcoming difficult and trying times.

Chapter Text

Poland was amazing in the sky. England could not believe it at first, seeing Poland zipping through the air as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

New Zealand, Canada and Australia had arrived to help as Germany had become much more hostile and battle in the sky was inevitable, they needed as many forces in the air as possible.

Poland was in the middle of a training flight, shooting down targets one by one like it was nothing.

“Poland is doing really well!” New Zealand chirped “who knew he was such a good pilot?”

England didn’t really pay much mind to New Zealand’s comments “yeah hes quite good but- Poland do you copy?! Bloody hell speak English will you?!” England was trying and failing to keep radio contact with Poland, who was having way too much fun flying around and responding to England in Polish out of sheer adrenaline.

New Zealand was chucking quietly as England continued bickering with Poland through the radio.

“What does “Spokojnie*” even mean?! If it doesn’t mean “Yes England I will now turn left aS YOU TOLD ME TO” Then I don’t want to hear it!- No I- Poland- Bloody hell! Don’t laugh!”

Australia stepped in, taking off his goggles and laughing loudly “England, you have to loosen up a bit!” England turned his head to glare at the Australian “Don’t you start too, if we are not an organized unit then theres no way we will win against the Axis!- No Poland this time that wasn’t to you”

Australia shook his head and laughed. After a moment England said “okay, ready to land”. Not long after that Poland stepped into the radio room, his eyes bright and hair frizzled up from having been wearing a helmet for a long time.

“How was I?” he asked, out of breath, he seemed extremely happy.

“Amazing, mate! You fly almost as well as I do!” Australia boasted, and Poland seemed to light up at his comment “I am totally better, though” Poland corrected with a smirk, and England wasn’t sure when Poland had started saying ‘totally’.

“You’d be better if you listened to my orders” England said sourly, crossing his arms, and Poland ran a hand through his frizzly hair, seeming to think about England’s comment.

“You should be more concise, you like, talk so much”

“Theres a lot of orders I have to give you!”

Poland shrugged, but seemed to respect England’s words “Sorry, I don’t understand when you talk this fast” he admitted, though didn’t seem too troubled by it “I will listen faster next time”

England relaxed a bit, feeling guilty for being so harsh, Poland didn’t speak English as well as the rest of them, and he was still keeping up quite well.

“Its alright… Um, I’m sorry too, I will talk slower” he said, and him and Poland both smiled slightly while Australia and New Zealand exchanged a look of surprise.

“since when do you take criticism?” Australia chuckled, and England shot him a glare “I always take criticism!”

Chapter Text

Bomber jackets, helmets, and goggles were strewn around two figures sitting together near the main military base, seeming extremely engrossed in a book, but if one were to come closer, they would find out what they were holding was a piece of drama.

-Nothing will come of nothing. Speak again” The very eloquent and dramatic voice of none other than England could be heard.

Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty according to my bond, no more no-mlememem ugh that should be a tongue twister” Poland crossed his arms in annoyance.

-No more no less? Come on, thats easy, you almost read the whole line perfectly this time” England said with a chuckle.

“Easy for you to say!” Poland defended, his bright green eyes burning holes into the words on the page.

The two were doing a dramatic reading of Shakespeare’s “King Lear” and despite a few hiccups, Poland was doing really well, given that he had arrived in England very recently and was still grasping the language.

“Can we continue? I love this play” Poland spoke up again, taking the text from England’s hands.

“You know “King Lear”?” England asked, his eyes shining

“Well yes, obvious! I love Shakespeare, but in Polish” Poland said with a shrug, going back to the line he had messed up before “Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty according to my bond, no more no less” this time his words were clear and had the dramatic flare that Poland usually had when speaking.

England’s eyes shone “How, how Cordelia? Mend your speech a little, lest you mar your fortunes” He said without even having to look at the text, his eyes fully focused on Poland now and full of wonder.

Good my lord, You have-” he was cut off as a very energetic and very Australian voice called to them “Hey guys! What are you doing over there? Aren’t we supposed to be training for, I don’t know, a war?”

Both nations instantly jumped up, embarrassed for having gotten so distracted “he’s right” Poland said quickly, offering England the text back.

England nodded, though part of him didn’t want them to go, this was the first time Poland and him were so… casual with each other. Of course, it had only been a few weeks of Poland being there, but he didn’t know Poland liked Shakespeare! What else did they have in common? Was England looking way too far into this?

“You can keep the text, you know, to polish up your English” he offered with a small, almost shy smile.

Poland’s eyes lit up as England continued “you might as well read the English version if you know the Polish one so well already”.

Poland seemed to really smile for a moment, not just a polite and friendly smile, a truly happy one, didn’t Poland usually get presents from people?

“Thank you, chap” he said with a grin and England found himself laughing.

“Were like, still waiting!” Australia called with a grin, waving his hand as Canada, New Zealand and Czechia now joined him.

As the two put their flight gear back on, Poland made sure to put “King Lear” in a safe place until he can retrieve it after training would be over.

What England didn’t know was that Poland didn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep, not without having nightmares of what was happening back home. The agonizingly long hours of the night were now replaced by the quiet whispering of the Pole, reading line after line of the play, remembering the Polish translation as he now memorized the English one.

“The weight of this sad time we must obey, speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most; we that are young shall never see so much nor live so long.”

Chapter Text

Poland leaned back, lazily blowing a feather from his mouth, his goggles messily tangled in his blond hair as he gently rocked his chair. It had been a good thirty minutes of doing absolutely nothing, and his constantly racing mind wasn’t very apt for just sitting around for so long. England had insisted that Poland get checked up, because of a pretty bad scrape during military training, but God, England, he had been through worse! Boredom was seeping into him, and what was worse, he had the growing guilt of the fact that him sitting there meant someone else would have to wait longer to get checked up. No bickering with England would convince the stuffy Brit otherwise though, and Poland had no other choice but to do as he was told, just this once.

Polska?” A familiar, rough voice called, in Polish to make matters even more shocking.

Instantly the Pole sat up, nearly jumping as a wide grin appeared on his face, he knew that voice, only one bloke in the whole bloody world had an accent that was that hard to understand-

“Scotland!” Instantly the two men leaped to embrace one another, Poland merely letting out a hiss of pain from the scrape to his leg, maybe it was more than a scape. At that moment, however, it did not matter, the two held each other tightly, Scotland’s vice grip making it almost hard to breathe. Poland’s red cheek which was chilled from the wind stung against Scotland’s warm, stubbled chin. Neither of them minded, laughing and embracing as if they weren’t standing in the middle of a ward.

“Well I’ll be! What the hell are you doing in England of all places?” The Scotsman asked, still speaking Polish, which made Poland’s heart soar, he hadn’t heard his own language in far too long.

“Call it a... friendly visit, where have you been? I thought I would have seen you at the military base by now!” Poland replied, also in Polish, it was great to be able to speak without stuttering or saying something wrong.

“I’m a medic, mate” Scotland said, proudly “speaking of, what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

the Pole rolled his eyes “nothing too bad, just got a bit hurt in training today, but I’m fine reall-” He didn’t get to finish as the Scotsman already had Poland’s arm draped over his shoulder, leading him to a small examining room “military training?” Scotland continued casually.

The blond nodded “I’m going to be in the air force, the…. Royal Air Force” he said, trying to mimic England’s accent for a moment, while Scotland had lifted Poland’s ankle to see it was a bit swollen and red. He quickly got to work dressing the wound, with countries wounds didn’t exactly work the same way, and so all that Poland really needed was to keep the wound from infecting, and he would be fine within a few days, unlike a human.

Royal Air Force?” Scotland raised his brow “Feliks, I didn’t know you spoke any English” he said with a smirk.

“I don’t” Poland shrugged “But I’m getting better” He said with his usual pridefulness.

Scotland hesitated, tilting his head “Why should you have to learn English? You’re coming here to help England yea? He should be the one studying your language, not the other way around” The red-haired man huffed, furrowing his thick eyebrows.

“Polish is hard, only the smartest can learn it” he said with a wink, making Scotland smirk, and then continued “and… I like it, English I mean-” The way Poland looked to the side caused his friend to become even more curious.

“Hm… If you say so” The Scot said, switching to English for the first time since their encounter, his accent seemed to be even harder to understand in English, how was that even possible?

Poland chuckled his eyes shining “I do say so! I am good” he said, switching to English as well while Scotland carefully bandaged up the Pole’s ankle.

“You are good, just don’t start catching onto England’s accent, eh?” Scotland said with a smirk, his eyes glinting slightly, and Poland instantly caught his suggestion “Duh, no, of course no- I wouldn’t- He is- I don’t know the word-” Poland sputtered.

“-stuffy? Annoying? Posh? Mean? A loser? All of the above?” Scotland said with a wide grin, laughing hardily, but as he suspected, Poland shook his head “No! I mean, yeah, he a bit is, but he is not so bad”, his green eyes instantly glanced towards the small window of the office, his eyes seemed distant and almost oddly dreamy “He flies… um, good”

Scotland frowned slightly, but then just shook his head with somewhat of a defeated smile “as good as you?” he asked, playfully nudging Poland’s shoulder.

“Nah, not even close” Poland said with a snide grin, and Scotland let out another loud laugh as he ruffled Polands hair and they both hugged again

“God, I missed you, Allistor”.

“I've missed you too, now that I know you’re in the RAFs, I’ll have a reason to go see what you guys are up to more often” Scotland said as he helped Poland get up slowly, but the other nation was quickly able to stand on his own almost instantly, which the Scotsman found suspicious, but he knew better than to tell Poland he should probably not push himself.

“We will drink some vodka sometime then, yeah?” Poland offered, taking off his goggles and running a hand through his messy hair.

“Of course! Can’t leave you with no drinking competition!” Scotland announced, puffing his chest out proudly “I will make sure to visit the base when I’m off duty” he promised, their eyes meeting for a moment, and in that exchange was so much warmth and appreciation between the two, an entire history that despite having not been seen by many others, had bound them very closely for many years.

Chapter Text

With the 'country squadron' having become a powerful force to reckon with, America's entrance into the group originally seemed to bring nothing but more success. However, with six extremely skilled yet not very patient nations making up the little group, England needed a way to keep order between them all, and now with America added into the mix, the rhythm they had grown used to had now changed. Between America's larger-than-life personality, Czechia and Poland’s loose grasp of the English language, New Zealand’s humorous quips, and Canada’s hidden sarcasm, England wasn't quite sure how to not blow his own head off sometimes. He was never quite patient himself, and especially not under these conditions, when Germany is still breathing down his neck, threatening to take over any second.

Thankfully for him, the hero had arrived to save the day!

America had been watching his former father figure in his attempts to maintain a unified group, and it was going fine, America had heard the squadron was really in sync nowadays. So, sure, things were going well, but they could be going better with some good American flare!

Thus, America got to thinking.

The best way to get the squadron to work together and stay in formation during flights was to somehow figure out some code words and code names. Code words already existed of course, but code names? That must be what the old man is missing! Code names make everyone feel like they’re part of a team!

So here he was, sitting in one of the military bars with Canada slowly drinking a beer next to him.

He furrowed his brows, squeezing his beer glass slightly, but making sure not to accidentally break it. There had to be a set of code names that everyone would love! Something to make them all a team-

“Are you alright, Alfie?” Canada’s gentle and somewhat confused voice broke America out of his rush of ideas.

“You've just been staring at New Zealand's drunk dancing for like, 5 minutes” Canada continued with a soft chuckle

“Well, you've gotta admit he's pretty good!” America laughed, watching the island nation dancing about while Czechia was pretending not to find it entertaining. Everyone had become so comfortable around each other in the last few weeks, it was almost like they were all a family, it made America almost feel a bit jealous, like he had been missing out.

Canada rolled his eyes with a smile, sipping his beer “you looked like you were concocting one of your big ideas” Canada knew America better than anyone, the two basically shared one soul.

“I have a wicked cool plan but I don't know how to execute it” America said instantly, dramatically waving his hand “And it’s a really good one too! I think it will make England feel a bit less jittery about us all flying together” he added, Canada was about to tell him that by now they were pretty much doing fine in terms of team-work, but he was too busy being surprised at the sheer suggestion of America wanting to do something nice for England.

Canada's eyes widened for a moment, smiling “you want to do something nice for England? That’s so sweet of you!” Out of the two, Canada was always considered ‘the good son’ while America was much more rebellious and if anyone was going to be nice to their former guardian, it was usually Canada.

“Of course I do! I'm like, a mature adult, and a hero helps everyone! Even grouchy old men” America pointed out, laughing at his own comment before continuing “its gonna be awesome, man, like, when I figure it out”

The twins were suddenly interrupted by New Zealand laughing as Czechia begrudgingly decided to dance with him, the soldier playing the piano switching to an even more cheerful melody than before.

They both watched as the two danced together happily, Czechia being definitely the more sober of the two, and yet having finally loosened up a bit. She changed a lot, similarly to all of them really. America wasn't around to really see why and how this all happened, but it was so visible that it was impossible to even try to avoid. They all changed, became more confident, open, and happy to be around each other, and it was all because they all flew-

-planes “I got it!” America announced loudly, making Canada jump.


The next morning the squadron was getting ready for a morning patrol as well as the inevitable air raids that they would have to respond to during the day. America however, wasn’t present.

Once everyone was standing around ready in their flight gear, England paused his conversation with Poland and furrowed his brows slightly, glancing at Canada.

“Where is America? Don’t tell me he’s hungover” He muttered with a glance at New Zealand, who just gave him a thumbs up while Czechia facepalmed.

Canada wasn’t sure where America was either “I'm sure he-”

“Hey dudes!” America joined them looking quite disheveled, with messy hair and in his civvies. He was waving around a small piece of paper, looking like a child that ate way too much candy.

“America what are you-” England started, but couldn’t finish as the younger cut him off.

“Were all here cause we fly planes, and were good at it! And you've all become reeeeaaally close because of it too!” he started, England and Poland exchanging a bit of a nervous glance which went unnoticed by the others.

“So, the next step for our wicked cool squadron - that I'm now a part of, is to all have cool code names!” He lifted the paper and waved it around “so I did the heroic thing and made us all the perfect names!”

All five countries looked a bit dumbfounded, but no one could object as America continued talking.

“I wanted names that all were connected somehow, but also individual! Like us!” He cleared his throat dramatically “It took research and a bit of stalking of everyone's records but I’ve got the perfect names for us!”

He pointed to Canada, grinning happily “since you're my bro, I’ll tell you yours first!” He said, and Canada seemed genuinely touched by this, his energetic brother always had the most random ways of showing him how much he loves him.

“You’re Avro! Like that one plane you fly a lot!” America declared, instantly whipping around his index finger to New Zealand.

“And you're Ventura! Cause you're awesome with those!” he then moved to Czechia.

“Aero! Those planes were made in your country, right?” he winked and then moved to Poland.

“Hurricane! Cause you've been absolutely annihilating with those!” he said proudly and then moving to England, pausing for a moment.

England was expecting America to reveal this was all a prank, call him ‘flightless bird’ or something equally as annoying, but instead the loud and brash pilot had something else in mind.

“And You’re Spitfire, cause you're our fearless leader!” he announced, puffing out his chest.

America laughed happily “Cool huh? Don't you all totally love them?! Ya'll are so lucky I joined when I did huh?” Everyone was completely dumbfounded for a moment.

“Hurricane is like, the coolest name!”
“I guess Aero is cool”
“Ventura! It's so dramatic, like me!”
“You remembered my favorite plane model?… Avro sounds great, Alfie”

England looked troubled “Thank you America that's… very nice, did you spend your whole morning coming up with these?”

“Evening too!” America boasted “what do ya think? Code names, am I right?”

England frowned “Well I hardly find them necessary but… Why not” he wasn’t sure how this would make things easier, but America really took all the time to do this and… Everyone seemed really excited over it, heck, even England felt being called “Spitfire” was kind of… badass, as America would say.

America cheered happily “The hero does it again! No need to thank me, dudes!” Everyone laughed and gave him a collective pat on the back for his enthusiastic contribution to the squadron.

“And what about you?” Poland asked, tilting his head.

“Oh, I’m the best one of all! I’m one of my coolest planes… Wildcat!” America grinned while Canada couldn't help but burst out laughing, of course America would call himself that.

As everyone laughed and America was simply glowing with pride, England allowed himself to laugh a bit too “Fine then, ‘Wildcat’ go get ready cause we’re already late in our patrol and you're not even properly dressed”

America gave him a thumbs up and grinned “Gotcha! Let's go do some flying!”

Chapter Text

With tensions higher than ever before, it seemed the country squadron was constantly up in the air, working themselves to exhaustion to help the other squadrons in keeping Germany at bay. As New Zealand took off his helmet and lazily slid out of his plane, he noticed Poland had his arm draped over England and England seemed to be whispering something to him as the both of them made their way to hell knows where. New Zealand smirked slightly, they seemed happy. Looking around he also saw Canada and Australia talking, both of them looking quite cheerful but also very tired. Everyone was extremely tired, New Zealand was just happy that no one forgot bring out the landing wheels or something equally as dangerous. There was one country that he couldn’t seem to spot though, a certain brunette to be exact.

Soon New Zealand was the only pilot still standing at his plane, he was leaning on it and gazing up at the darkening sky, waiting. Czechia was hellbent on ‘hunting alone’ even after everyone else were finished. New Zealand admired her for it, but also worried, what if she crashed and no one would be there to see it? Countries couldn’t die from crashing, but that didn’t mean they didn’t cause extreme pain.

His silent worries were soon tamed as he saw a spitfire flying in above, with a Czech flag on the bottom of its left wing. He instantly ran up to the plane when she had landed, waving his hand happily in a greeting.

“There you are! Gosh, do you ever get tired?” he said cheerfully as Czechia took off her helmet, seeming genuinely surprised to see him there.

“Tired? Yeah, sure, um, are you not tried too?” she asked with her still heavy czech accent as she got out of the plane, taking his hand to jump onto solid ground. The two had started talking, mainly out of circumstance, but she assumed that the cheerful country wouldn’t wait for her, it made her feel a bit guilty.

“Yeah I guess I am, but I rested a bit while waiting! I couldn’t just go not knowing if you came back or not” he said with a shrug.

Czechia instantly narrowed her eyes, her defensive personality kicking in “for why would I not come back? Do you think I would crash?” the edge in her voice was enough to intimidate anyone, but not this faraway nation, not at all.

He shook his head “of course not! But we are a team, we look out for each other!” he announced proudly.

“...right” Czechia looked to the side, feeling a bit bad for assuming he had meant anything else, New Zealand really seemed like a nice person, really chipper. He was almost like Slovakia…

She then shrugged “well, now that I’m here, do you want to… go get a drink? You know, for better sleep” she offered, cracking a small smile.

New Zealand’s eyes instantly lit up “Sure! Slavic countries know how to drink, eh?” he said with a laugh “I know where England keeps some spare alcohol when the military bar is closed” he added with a wink as the two started making their way to the base together.

“By the way” Czechia muttered, making her friend tilt his head “Thanks for waiting for me, I did not expect it”

He instantly grinned, puffing out his chest “That’s what friends are for!”