Standard Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, I don't own Hetalia. Neither does anyone else on the site, I would guess. I'm getting very lazy with the disclaimers.
Note: This will probably have some minor historical inaccuracies, that much is inevitable. But I have a huge Civil War geek for a friend, so I made her help me get some of the major points straight.
America noticed the first signs of trouble before any human did, in the form of a dull ache all over his body. He didn't understand its true significance at that point, but instead pinned it down to working too late.
The pain began to grow sharper, more pronounced, as if he was being torn in half. He tried to ignore it – as a nation, he always dealt with some form of pain – but this was worse than what he could recall since the Revolution. By March, he had begun to see a stranger wandering around his house. America tried to talk to him, but the stranger never responded. He simply kept going about his business like America wasn't even there. The stranger looked more than a little like Alfred, and that gave him a sinking feeling. It couldn't possibly be...
April 12 brought the first attack. The stranger - the Confederacy - finally responded to America's presence, stabbing him in the stomach with a kitchen knife. America went pale, from both the injury and the shock. The Confederacy seemed completely unfazed by his actions and left without a word.
Years passed. America found himself covered with horrible wounds, caused from the fights occurring with frightening regularity between him and the Confederacy. The European nations treated America with sympathy, but offered no help. They had all faced civil war in the past, and decided that the best thing to do was to not act. They believed that they should stay inactive and let events work out as they were. With every passing battle, America grew weaker and the Confederacy grew stronger.
America could not stand it. After some battles, he felt so miserable that he could do nothing but cry. He began to understand exactly how England had felt when his empire began to dissolve - the feeling that his people were falling apart and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Because he still felt that they were his people, even if they had created this enemy.
Once, America saw England, the one he considered his older brother, speaking to the Confederacy. He heard England speak about how he was considering giving the Confederacy some aid in the war.
America wanted to scream. He wanted to reach across the Atlantic and strangle England with his bare hands. He wanted to show England how wrong he was - that he was helping the wrong person. But he couldn't. So he took out his rage on the only one he could. On the first of July, 1863, the Confederacy tried to attack him again. America fought back with a blind rage, not caring anymore about his own injuries. All he could think about was England's betrayal, how England was trying to hurt him even more than he was already.
By the end of that particular battle, America wasn't the weak one anymore. He was the hero.
Another note: I like reviews. I probably won't reply, but let it be known that I do read them. Reviews give me the warm fuzziness of happy.
