Armistice

A/N: A little late for Veteran's day, but I also wanted to do a brief World War I fic with all this knowledge from IB History.

Summary: Most consider the armistice to be a good thing. England remembers it a little differently.
Pairing: USUK

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He was damned well tired of war, and that was reflected in the gratefulness toward America for finishing the bloody thing for him. Sure, he would have won it in the end- he had been bound too. But at what cost- to his men, to his civilians, to his government?

England was a tired nation, and feeling every one of his years.

He watched as Germany, a young man now (but really, what had he been doing waging a war like this one when he was so young?) that looked as though he had aged 10 years in the span of a few months. Though a small part of him felt sorry for what this nation was going to go through, the larger part of him felt pent up rage starting to boil over, and he gave Germany a poisonous stare. Funny. Like the poison gas he had brought into the war.

America was as daft as ever, smiling softly at the country. Damn Wilson and his Fourteen Points. Damn Wilson for his promises to Germany.

Germany would have no idea of what the true treaty they were devising contained. France was particularly gleeful about the "war guilt clause".

And that sat uncomfortably with him, for if he knew what would be done to his economy, to his people, so that they could never again wage war, would he bother to sign a treaty? Or would he resign his fate to death like other countries have done in the past?

As France would say, C'est la vie.

Bugger it all, he had spent so much time with the fucker that he was picking up his phrases.

England took out a cigar, and lit it with a match, watching Germany watch him back. They were at a standstill. Would you like to be blown to smithereens? England questioned him with his eyes.

No, Germany's body sagged a little bit in reply, and he looked down to the unconditional surrender document that was before him. In politics, this was how it went. One party on top of the other. Domination.

Out of their control, Germany's generals were signing this document that was much of the same, though everyone knew they would continue to fire up until the moment came- 11:00, on the 11th, in the eleventh month.

As nations, they required the nation defeated to comply with the same rules.

England took a long drag from his cigar, and stared Germany down as the boy who had waged the war of gods signed the document that would doom his country to mediocrity and economic collapse.

America took it from him, patting the young man- a boy really, truly he was- on the shoulder, before coming over to England. "And that's that." He said, grinning. "And in a few hours, the war will be over."

"Quite so." He scoffed, snatching the document from the other boy. A silly boy that could never earn his respect. "Now, we may stop playing games, and establish the real matters- this one will be decided by the men, I should say."

France smiled an oily grin. "Yes, America. You did not really think we would simply let you run this when you have only fought a year. I'm afraid England and I will be devising this treaty."

Germany's head snapped up, looking at them in horror.

America looked dumbstruck. "What? But I thought we agreed, the only way we could prevent another war like this was to…"

"To prevent Germany from ever waging war." France finished snidely, and England-a small part of him, mind you- wished they were not being so rude to the young man who really had his heart in the right place.

"You see America, as you aren't really a European nation," England began, "You really have no business in this matter. France and I will take care of this part. Now you run off like a good lad and play with your toy soldiers."

America watched him, the cruelty of this hitting him hard. He watched and a tiny part of him cried for him to apologize, say he really didn't mean it. But the larger part of him did.

So he took the fourteen points up off the table in front of them, and did the action that would settle the matter of these confusing feelings he had for America, by hopefully pushing him away once and for all.

He tore the page in two.

"This kind of idealistic thing doesn't belong in the matters of men." He finished, and dropped them to the floor.

He then turned promptly, and walked out the door with France, his head held high.

He was doing the right thing, America had no business in their matters now that they had finished needing his help. He had been used, and now he was being thrown away. That was the purpose of all material goods.

To be used and tossed away when you were done with them.

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Their politicians had finished writing the Treaty, and now it was time to sign it. France and England already had- they had been fundamental in writing it. He tried to keep some of the ideas from the Fourteen Points in the writing, but there was no way America and his idealistic views would agree with the treaty of Versailles.

He knew that, and was fully expecting outrage on behalf of Germany.

America was currently reading it over with a frown, over the shoulder of Germany, so that they could quickly get over it and just sign the damn thing.

Officially end the war to end all wars.

They were all ready to do that, and if Germany didn't sign, they would promptly enter his war ragged nation, and destroy him once and for all.

America had gotten to the reparations section. "That's outrageous!" He said, looking up to them. "He doesn't even have an official monetary system! Where the hell is 5 billion dollars going to come from in time for the first payment?! 267 billion marks?! What were you thinking!?"

"It's enough to push his economy into the ground." France said, shrugging. "And a good reminder as to what he's done."

"That war guilt clause is such a load of shit though! It wasn't even Germany that first declared war!" America argued, rubbing his temples.

"But he invaded me, not Russia or Serbia." France pointed out. "Clearly, his intentions were not kind."

America looked like he was about to say something else, before the fire seemed to drain out of him.

They were at an armistice themselves. None of them were willing to fire at the other.

"Fine. You say you don't want me in your affairs, that's fine by me. My people are already calling for isolation again."

Isolation?

What?

"I'm not signing this bullshit. Germany, contact me when you want to make another treaty. You may not be getting fairness from these two, but it's a promise from me."

What? He just wasn't going to sign the official treaty.

"Don't contact me the next time you two are in a load of shit." He muttered, gathering his military coat, and putting it on again. "I don't like being used."

He was about to leave the room, when he turned back around. "You know England, I thought we were starting to really have something. It wasn't like it was before, but it was something. Glad to know what you really think of me." He tipped his hat mockingly, and left, disappearing from sight moments later as the door closed.

England couldn't help but feel like something had been broken that shouldn't have been.

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