[I very rarely write sad fanfiction. But I'm writing this one in light of what happened in Paris. There will be feels.]
France buried his face in his hands. He still couldn't believe what had happened. Terrorists, in Paris. They'd opened fire on innocent patrons of a café and blown others up using a bomb vest. He'd never felt so alone.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see America and all the other European nations, along with Canada, China, and Japan, standing next to him. Everyone had a grim look on his or her face.
"I know how you feel," America said, his voice cracking with emotion. France remembered how America had been the most targeted by terrorism. He hadn't seen him look this solemn since the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting a few years prior.
"It's exactly the way I felt when they took down the Twin Towers. They're threatening to attack me again."
"We have to work together to bring down this threat," England agreed.
"They killed my people. It's personal," Russia growled.
"They've killed hundreds of people," Austria said, "just for not being Muslim, or being American."
"If those bastards think they can scare us, they've got another thing coming!" Hungary declared, gripping Austria's hand. Austria took America's hand.
"Let's do this."
One by one, the countries held hands and banded together, fighting a threat they all had to defeat.
They weren't sure how to win. All they could do was hope and pray.
For Paris.
For France.
For America.
For the families of victims.
For themselves.
For their people.
For the world.
[I cried while I wrote this.
I wanted to try and capture the emotion I'm certain most of the world felt at the attack on Paris. Pray for Paris.]