Thanks. [America sounds exhausted and wound tight with energy all at once, but he also sounds sincere. He really would rather hear this sort of thing from England.] I'll handle it. I can. [He's not sure who he's convincing.]
[Hearing England say that does a lot to lift his mood, as much as it can be lifted right now. He does wish England was the one backing him up over here, but moral support is nice, too.] Yeah. I'm not gonna mess up.
You won't. It's really rather simple compared to some of the other things we've done. [This is far from an all out war.
There's a brief pause, as if England is considering whether he really wants to say what he's thinking of.] ...sorry I can't be of more help.
[He'd like to be there, but even if he weren't taking care of Ginger, it would take him days to get downtown. He'd never reach the search party in time.]
[How eloquent. But he didn't really mean to say it, something in his brain just shorted out a little.] Er— that is...
[At least England's tone isn't entirely unfamiliar. It's the "processing a significant emotion" tone, a bit surprised and a bit vulnerable.] ...thank you.
[America can't believe how much he misses England being nearby. He can almost feel normal like this, talking to England.] So it's fine! Everything will be fine!
...right. [England still isn't too certain of himself, still off-balance from Beckett's awful broadcast and the following obituary, but he really does hope America will be fine.]
And we can meet up again once this is all sorted. If you want to.
[After a few moments, England sends over a photo. It's a rather large drinking glass, a bit rounded and painted unmistakably like planet Jupiter, complete with the red spot.]
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Steve will be disseminating the information amongst the search party, but I— [A brief hesitation.] ...I didn't want you to have to find out that way.
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You've handled worse. You can manage this. You've got experience, intel, and back-up, so I wouldn't fret needlessly.
[Well, England would, that's sort of what he does. But it doesn't suit America.]
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There's a brief pause, as if England is considering whether he really wants to say what he's thinking of.] ...sorry I can't be of more help.
[He'd like to be there, but even if he weren't taking care of Ginger, it would take him days to get downtown. He'd never reach the search party in time.]
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[Sealand and Beckett are proof enough, but he has no way of knowing how many of those names on the obituary might have belonged to English citizens.]
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[How eloquent. But he didn't really mean to say it, something in his brain just shorted out a little.] Er— that is...
[At least England's tone isn't entirely unfamiliar. It's the "processing a significant emotion" tone, a bit surprised and a bit vulnerable.] ...thank you.
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And we can meet up again once this is all sorted. If you want to.
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In the hopes of keeping America from lingering too long on yesterday's events, England tries some good news.]
I've got a few things for you.
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The rest is a surprise.