America ran through the rain, his backpack bouncing around on his back, he had been watching the news on when he heard about what had happened in France.
"Today we have an inside report on the room that Isis had been staying at before the attacks started," The news reporter said, America's head whipped up from where he had been dozing on the couch, waiting for England to call him.
"What attacks?" America asked, pulling out his laptop and looking it up.
"Oh god, France."
He had immedietly booked a flight to France, when he arrived it was already dark and it was raining hard. He started running towards where he knew France was. He stopped as he reached some gates, that appeared to be locked, he cursed and quickly climbed over them, landing on the other side, panting.
"I really, gotta, get more in shape," America panted, jogging towards France's door. America banged on the door.
No reply.
He tried again. Still no reply.
"France?" America called. "It's me, it's America."
The door slowly opened, revealing a terrifed looking France.
"America?" he asked quietly, seemingly in a daze.
"France, oh my god, I wish I had heard earlier, I would have come sooner," America said, walking in the house, France closed the door behind America. He looked like he had barely slept since Friday.
"What are you doing here?" France asked.
"I came to visit you," America replied. "I heard about the attacks."
"Oh," France looked down on the floor, greif-stricken. American walked over to him and pulled France into a hug.
"It's okay, Francis. I'm here for you, I'll help you."
A/N: So I had this idea last night and couldn't resist. It's not meant to be an America x France fic. I just thought, the last attacks were kinda like France's 9/11.
