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[ He wakes up and he's back in Wonderland, and all those foggy memories snap into place. They still stick together like pages of a book that's had soda spilled on it, so it's impossible to separate them chronologically after so long away. But the things he remembers are sharp and clear.

Except he notices that Wonderland is sorta fragmented into pieces. He thinks something catastrophic has happened and, now more than ever, he desperately wishes that his friends are somewhere, happy, that they've escaped what's happened here. They can't still be around after so long. Then again, who knows how long it's been with this place?

The last time he was here, he probably would've sat down and spent an hour freaking out somewhere behind a bush. This time he does the exact same thing, except he doesn't feel ashamed or embarrassed about it. Fuck it he is a global economic power he'll do what he wants.

After a while of rocking and shaking behind a tree, he gets up, dusts himself off, and decides to reintroduce himself.

Somehow he's found his phone again, with everything on it and the chipped in the corner. Just the way he'd left it. Maybe he should take this as a sign that he hasn't been away so long, at least in Wonderland time, but he doesn't. Too busy preparing his reintroduction.

Normal people would probably just turn their device on, say their hellos and see who is around and who is new. If you are expecting normal behavior from America I don't know what to tell you. Except "lower your expectations because this asshole is still a crazy motherfucker."

He'd found himself on a lone piece of forest, which is not the ideal location for his reentry. In the distance looms the lone, floating entrance hall. After a few seconds of debating the value of his life, he realizes he's immortal and abandons the last fuck he could possibly give before making a running start to leap to the next floating island. A manic grin and one thought propel him to his destiny:

Do it for the vine. ]

[ Finally everything is set up just the way he wants it. Camera placed just behind the closed doors of the entrance wall, it's propped up to frame the hall in such a way that it looks like just any normal day in Wonderland. The real trick is turning it on at just the right moment. He decides to turn it on from behind so the video doesn't capture his initial appearance. Slipping away as quietly as possible, the video just captures a few silent seconds of the doors.

Which then BURST OPEN IN AN EXPLOSION OF SHRAPNEL AND FIRE. USA USA USA.

The smoke clears and, surprise surprise, guess who's standing at the center with arms cross and cocky grin in place? No Crowley, that's for fucking sure, like he'd be capable of anything this epic. For those who knew him the changes are small and subtle, probably nothing to catch amidst the chaos. A taller stature, unhindered by painful wounds, a face that's still young but no longer burdened by self-consciousness and undercurrents of fear.

In the split-second he opens his mouth, just before he speaks you might be expecting something like YOUR HERO HAS RETURNED. But no. ]

WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY RAPTORS?

[ Good news: he's even more of a selfish shithead than before. Bad news: that was the good news.

God help you all.

and now a million years later do I add an obligatory nsfw warning?? don't read my threads if you value your time and integrity ]

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[ excuse u Crowley he has a quality soul that tastes like an M&M McFlurry.

America snorts again, making a face like he's about to sulk again. Suddenly he fucking launches himself at the demon, gripping the junction of his shoulders and wings in a steel grip that not even teleportation can pry him off. ]

Yes you are I'm gonna see a fella that I never thought I'd see again and you're gonna take me there. DO IT FOR LOVE, CROWLEY. DO IT FOR A LOVE THAT WONDERLAND THOUGHT IT COULD BREAK!

[His initial instinct is to break America's fucking neck or turn him inside out because that's what you do to people who grab your wings without your permission. Wings are sensitive, and they're also a gigantic weak point, the kind that might as well have a neon sign with the words AIM HERE FOR MAXIMUM DAMAGE.]

[Instead Crowley just sort of freezes because considering it's America, he doubts the guy knows what he did. And he doesn't want to lose feathers because shit that grip is strong.]

[He also starts yelling because yelling is the only way to communicate with America.]

WELL LET ME GO AND I'LL CONSSSSIDER IT INSSSSTEAD OF SSSSETTING YOU ON FIRE AND THROWING YOU OFF THE EDGE!

NO WAY YOU'LL JUST FLY OFF AND LEAVE ME STRANDED HERE NOW TAKE ME TO LUKE AND I'LL LET YA GO!

[ Not even setting him on fire or turning him inside out or snapping his neck will release this grip. Then Crowley would just have a crispy, meaty, bleeding mass plastered between his wings. America is resolute.

This probably wasn't the best reunion, especially after they were having such a nice talk, but TOO LATE TO GO BACK GO BIG OR GO HOMEEEE. ]

[America is one of like two people in the entire multiverse that Crowley will forgive for this transgression because it's America and it's no fun being actually mad at him.]

WHY ARE YOU DATING LUKE HE'SSSSSS LIKE TWELVE I CAN'T FLY IF YOU'RE CLINGING TO MY WINGSSSS LIKE SOME KIND OF PARASSSSSITE YOU SSSSODDING GREAT BASSSTARD!

HE'S NOT TWELVE HE'S A UNIVERSITY STUDENT IT'S NOT SKEEVY HE'S SMART AND ADORABLE AND REAL FUCKIN' SMILEY LIKE HE LAUGHS A LOT AND HE'S WEIRD BUT IN A GOOD WAY AND I DIDN'T GET TO SAY GOODBYE I NEVER GET TO SAY GOODBYE! I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF HE'S MOVED ON BUT I WANNA CATCH UP AND SAY FAREWELL IF HE HAS!

[ Somewhere in the midst of that screaming he might've started crying and wiping his nose on Crowley's shoulder. This is like the third time today he's cried it's just one of those days. You know those days where you're back in the life you had thirty years ago after being forcefully torn from everything familiar and loved back into hatred and war and then you slowly put your life back together and suddenly you're back in another realm and only a week has passed for the people you thought you'd lost forever and mourned and remembered them as though they were dead? Yeah. One of those days.

One at a time, his arms slide up around Crowley's neck. It is the familiar, choking embrace dads everywhere experience when their kid climbs up on their back, and as we all know, Crowley is the unofficial dad of Wonderland. It is a role no one wants and it has been foisted upon this poor demon.

This is his true punishment for his transgressions. This is what the Fall of Man has wrought: a bratty personified country who leaps from poignantly recounting his life over drinks to this.

America just has so many emotions and he doesn't know what to do with himself so here we are. ]

[Crowley starts trying to wriggle away because that vice grip on his wings is becoming kind of painful.] OF COURSSSSSE HE HASSSSN'T MOVED ON YOU BLOODY IDIOT IT'SSSSS ONLY BEEN A WEek for usss it barely even...

[He trails off when he realizes America is straight up bawling at this point wow what has his life become.]

[See this is the problem with America, you can be incredibly furious at him and then he starts bawling on you and suddenly the best you can do is be incredibly annoyed and kind of grossed out.]

Oi, stop crying, I'm trying to yell at you.

[He pats America on the back, hissing to himself in frustration.]

Alright, alright, I'll take you to him, just please for the love of Sssssomeone stop crying on me.

[ Initially he'd been hoping for some bad ass demon wrangling, showing off how tough and strong he's become, but now he's here clambering all over this Brit like he's a baby bear trying to climb a tree, except in this case he's probably almost as tall as the tree and laden down with bulky muscles and a gun holster that digs into the demon's side. Instead of more obnoxiously arrogant shouting he's blubbering over an old relationship and you know what? He doesn't care. He doesn't care anymore how embarrassing this is he just wants to see his friends again.

The hysterics don't stop, they just get more incoherent. America makes some high-pitched whining noises like a puppy that's been left alone in its crate, attempting to howl but coming out as squeaky, scratchy hiccups. The only sign that he's heard Crowley comes in his attempt to muffle the sounds by pressing his wet face into the demon's shoulder.

America doesn't even know what he wants anymore. He's not even drunk. That's the sad part. He's sober and bawling all over Demon Dad for reasons even he can't explain. What the fuck how did he end up here. Better question, what the hell is he supposed to do next? A question that doesn't normally scare him nowadays, but it's all so much at once. Everything happens so much. ]

[Crowley can't handle people crying even on a good day and this is not even pretending to be a good day anymore. He sort of starts vibrating with the need to get the fuck away.]

[He ends up actually sort of hugging America or at least just holding him because sometimes that makes the crying stop oh Manchester how is this his life he is hugging a country he's a demon demons don't hug why this.]

America, I am very, very, very slightly sympathetic to your plight but if you don't stop crying on me I am going to turn you into something that doesn't have tear ducts.

[Or maybe not even eyes at all. Like a worm or something.]

[ America doesn't heed the words at all, but he does start calming down. Partly because he's a touchy guy who is easily consoled with even the most minute attention and physical affection, partly because he has a limited attention span that can't uphold this sort of sobbing for long durations, partly because he's running out of tears and energy. He sniffles loudly and buries his face into Crowley's shoulder. It's hard to tell if he's seeking more hugs or just wiping his face.

(Both. It's both.)

To make it all worse, he says the one thing you don't say to Crowley. This time it's not even out of malice but misplaced thanks. His voice comes out small and tinged with a sort of gratefulness that he's reluctant to give, but does so anyway because sometimes he can put his pride aside. Sometimes. ]

Y'know, you're not so bad for a demon. Your wings are even nice and feathery like an angel! Or Jackson.

[ Which in his mind are the same thing because they're both assholes. ]

[Oh shit son you did not just go there. You did. You went there. Listen, the only one who's allowed to even mention Crowley's oversized "spark of goodness" is Aziraphale, and that's only on a good day.]

Oh that does it.

[And he turns America into a box turtle.]

[ Before he can even comprehend what's going on or what he's done wrong, America is suddenly staring up at Crowley from a few inches off the floor. He feels heavier, his feet slower, and his fingers––

Somehow even without lips or human vocal chords, he manages to talk as loudly and obnoxiously as ever. ]

What did–– what did you do to me?! Why?!

[Crowley just barely resists the urge to turn him over onto his back for awhile, then he scoops him up, tucks him under an arm and takes flight.]

Time to foist you off on Luke, finally. Bugger this for a lark. Not so bad for a demon, really, rub it in why don't you...

[ Luckily all the flailing and squirming he'd do in his human form is completely ineffective as a turtle. His little legs just flop uselessly against Crowley's arm like he's trying to swim through the air. The thrill of flight is slightly ruined by the revelation that he's small and scaly. ]

CROWLEY YOU SNAKEY BASTARD NOT ALL OF US WANT COLD BLOOD!

[ He'd scream and rant that he takes it back, Crowley is awful, but judging by the muttering that would only improve his mood and America refuses to give him that satisfaction.

Still, the sentiment comes across pretty well in the way he bites at the demon's clothes, angrily growling swear words as he tries to rip a hole in the fabric. ]

[Crowley completely ignores America's ranting and flailing the entire flight. Eventually he finds the third floor where Luke is supposed to be, and instead of actually locating the kid and handing America the Turtle off to him, Crowley just sets the turtle down on a landing.]

There you are. Crawl forth and find your "fella", as you put it. [He spreads his wings again and grins down at the turtle.] Should wear off in twenty or so minutes, not to worry.

[And then he's gone.]

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