A thing based off of Dead Hearts by Stars. A beautiful song, truly. A beautiful song. But then… it evolved… that's the song I was listening to, anyway. Amérique means America in French.


One day, America grew tired. Not in the physical sense, although he had stayed up late double checking his paperwork.

No, he was simply tired of being the hero.

America got to the world summit building early, and took his seat. Looking around at the empty room, he couldn't help but ponder a few things he'd been thinking about earlier.

England and France entered the room next, having a quiet discussion. They ignored America's presence and took their seats.

America watched them. Neither of them looked up at him once.

After a while, more of the personifications arrived. Germany entered a few minutes before the designated meeting time, Italy in tow, and started the meeting.

America tuned them out and focused on watching the countries. He'd talked to a few children a few days ago, who had introduced him to a song that reminded him of their situation as countries. He watched Italy as Germany spoke. The pasta-loving personification doodled on his paper, smiling. America glanced away from the happy nation, to where Canada stood against the wall. His brother watched the meeting, but looked incredibly detached.

America looked down at the paper, and picked up his pen.

England's voice cut through his daze. "America? Are you going to respond?"

America jerked his head up. England's eyes seemed to be filled with concern, but America recalled the words of the song, and their past, and doubted it.

America gave them his trademark, carefree smile. "Sure, Iggy! I think we should make a giant hero and have them fix everything!"

Would you believe me?

"That won't solve the problem!" England frowned. "Were you even listening? We were talking about-"

"I was thinking about something else," America interrupted.

France raised an eyebrow. "Amérique is thinking? That is a shocking concept."

America didn't respond as other countries replied.

Do people think I'm that stupid?

America turned back to his paper. He knew that these weren't his thoughts. So many Americans believed no one cared that their thoughts made it into his head, affected his way of thinking.

"-pay back your debt?"

America only caught the last part of China's question, but it made him wince all the same.

"I don't know," America admitted.

I can't control that.

"Irresponsible wanker," England muttered.

America felt his heart break a little bit. He guessed they thought he wasn't a threat.

Why should I let them walk over me?

America suppressed the urge to shout, to act out. He'd seen what some people resorted to. He felt as if he were falling, grasping for a handhold, a lifeline.

"Hey, leave the kid alone."

Everyone's attention turned to the direction of the voice. Prussia stood in the doorway, arms crossed, for once not smiling and telling them how awesome he was.

"Bruder..?" Germany asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I was over with the micronations," Prussia said. He walked over to America. "You wanna skip out on the meeting?"

"What?" America asked.

Prussia just grinned and dragged America to his feet. "Den, you coming?"

Denmark stood up, reckless grin on his face. "Of course! Ye think I'd pass up a chance to skip out?"

Prussia turned to Germany and saluted. "Sorry, West! We got some things to do!"

Before anyone else could respond, the three were speeding down the hall, laughing and joking.

That event marked the start of the so-called "awesome" trio.