America's Day of Sorrow.
"Hey, where is America? He's late for the meeting!" Sealand was pretty rowdy for someone who wasn't invited to the meeting in the first place. But he was quickly silenced by the looks in the room now on him like hawks. They stared him down, with murderous intent. Canada wasn't here either, both boys were gone, in fact, they hadn't been seen in a few days. Russia, for someone who didn't like America that much, had a very humble look on his face, a somber glaze in his eyes.
"Today…is not good day for America and Canada…or for any of us." His thick Russian accent was…soft, and unlike his usual harsh masculine tone. Sealand looked around the room, everyone looked as if they were holding back something.
"Yes…he is a jackass…but he didn't deserve it, neither boy did!" England slammed his fists on the table, fighting the tears, Mexico nudged the other women and they all escorted little Sealand out of the room, taking him to play outside. The boy had felt horrible and didn't know why. France looked at England and walked around to give the man a hug. England screamed a sound of sorrow, and sobbed aloud, and the room stayed quiet, the man was only doing what the others wanted to do.
America was hiding out in his apartment, staring out of the window, drinking Jack Daniels, watching the same spot now for three days with little to no sleep, he hadn't even bothered to drink beer, which he had been doing all week, he just stood, and stared.
Canada was standing on his side of Niagara Falls, staring towards New York, his face was blank. His heart was heavy, and he couldn't stop crying, and it felt like he wouldn't ever stop.
The worlds countries were brought to their knees for only the second time in their lives.
Only because of today, this day, this one day that made them feel so real.
On that day, they remembered…
They had closed their eyes and tore them back open to hope that they had been dreaming, that night, they closed their eyes only to realize they were not going to be sleeping. Silently, they cried aloud until their lungs were sore, their eyes were red and could bear no more strain, until their bodies shut down.
But America being as he was, his body did not shut down, yes his lungs were on fire, his eyes looked as red as the stripes on his flag, but he did not sleep, not a wink that night, or for several nights after. He would just replay everything in his head. The flashbacks would slow and then increase around this day.
The people he couldn't save.
Falling from the building, crashing all around him, no matter how many times he had rushed in, no matter how many people he had helped save, it was not enough…not even close.
He shoved the papers off his desk. He could still feel the smoke in his lungs, and he could feel the burning in his eyes, he remembered the coughing and yelling so loud his voice cracked under the strain. He too, on that day a year ago, screamed so loud he could be heard over the flames, but not over the smack of bodies jumping from the building and meeting the sidewalk.
No matter how loud he yelled, he wouldn't be able to drown out the sound of that crunch of all the bone in a body breaking at once.
For the third time in his life-he screamed aloud, and Canada was doing the same at that very moment.
It was a heartcrushing day.
The year anniversary of 9/11…
Every year, it got a little better for the other countries, Russia sent a gift to show his sorrow for the event, America's leader accepted with gratitude, because he knew America was somewhere drinking the feelings under the table that year. He had learned to leave America alone.
But the countries were not having it.
On the fourteenth anniversary, they all showed up at America's apartment, a condemned building that was in the zone almost all the way ruined by that horrible event fourteen years ago…
America was home, his motorcycle was parked outside, but he wouldn't answer the door, so Russia lock picked it, they went in and seen America on the floor, Jack Daniels and some bourbon bottles, still full, he had one Jack Daniels bottle in hand, swigging.
"America..."
"Just leave me alone…" He shoved his head in his arms that were rested on his knees, footsteps were heard coming towards him.
"But you aren't alone mate." Australia kneeled down and opened a bottle of alcohol he had brought with him.
"Even if we have to sit here and drink with you." Japan pulled out a small cup and a sake bottle.
America looked up in shock. Russia was holding out a bottle of Vodka, with the German Brothers next to him.
"You are not lone friend. We have back so to speak." He held up his bottle to the heavens in a cheers with the Germans Heidegeist and they all chugged a third.
Italy reached in his bag and pulled out a bottle of wine, Canada had even showed up and sat next to America, holding the mans shoulder, "You're never alone you big dummy of a brother."
"Indeed!" Mexico was the only woman there, but she pulled out a huge bottle of Tequila.
"Now hand over some of that bourbon." England snatched up a bottle laying next to America.
"That is the exact same stuff my first boss made Arthur…"
"Is that why it tastes bittersweet then?" Arthur laughed and drank more. "Tastes like a winner."
And for the first time…the countries laughed, and drank, and Alfred America Jones was not left alone on the worst day of his life.