Canada stood on the edge of the roof. Several countries stood below, and America was directly behind him. He gazed sadly at the hard ground that he'd chosen to be his final resting place.
"Matthew, don't do this- Please!" America cried. Canada turned and smiled sadly.
"I only wanted to be seen. Would that have been so hard?"
"I saw you... Really, I did- I do! You're my little bro!" sobbed America.
"I wish that had been enough... I'm sorry." Canada waved slightly, then plunged backwards off the roof.
Before he had time to consider what he was doing, America was sprinting forward, following Matthew off the roof. His fingers just brushed Canada's before his little bro hit the ground, and Alfred closed his eyes, not wanting to see. They never opened again.