(This is a very slow burn fanfiction. I haven't decided if this is going to be a RusAme or a GerAme fic. Please let me know which pairing you feel would be better and why as the story progresses. America is 19 years old physically, and going to be dealing with a lot of themes having to do with depression, his own toxic behaviors, and the nations/people that surround him. As the story develops, so will Alfred. Will our little Hero learn how to save himself from himself? I have faith.

I would like to take this time to mention that happiness is not found with a relationship, but this is a fanfiction after all, and I love me some fluff to keep it interesting. Still, it is very. Slow. Burn. Well at least to me. You gotta earn your fluff. Pay your dues.

So please, sit back with your electronic screen illuminating your face and enjoy. That fluff will be worth it the wait.

This is rated M. That rating won't be necessary for some time. Any warnings will come before chapters of a particular nature if they come up.

P.S. I'll be using human names. They will more often than not, however, refer to one another as their assigned country.)

Oh, the beach. The sun is setting gorgeously along the horizon. It was somewhere along the American East Coast, exactly where didn't matter. The wind coming in from the ocean was warm and heavy. The sound of the ocean lapping up the shore consumed his ear drums. Seagulls chimed in their announce at one another's company down the shore line. The sensation of curling up his toes in the hot sand was simply blissful as his hair went in whatever direction it wanted. Finally, for a moment he felt at peace. He feels some sort of vibration, much like a gong, reverberate between his temples and ear lobes. It was rather soothing. He looks to the sun, glowing a brilliant orange within a pink and purple haze. All his stress and troubles began to melt away.

"America…! America!" he snaps out of it. Alfred is in his seat, spacing out into the corner of a golden frame holding a painting within it, not of the sunset, but of a sunflower. He slowly shifts his eyes to Arthur.

"I'm listening England, I'm listening."

"Then what did I just say?" The Brit taps his index finger at his hip impatiently and continues regardless. "You looked like you were in Outer Space. You know very well I'm concerned for your well being."

Alfred manages a smile and chuckles, "Aw c'mon. You know I'll be just fine. I always am. It's just uncertain right now. I have a lot of problems. I would love to help you. I really would. I just can't right now." He rises from his seat and notices everyone in the meeting room was already gone. Wow… He must of really checked out. "I should really get back to my hotel room and try to get some rest."

Arthur sighs and shakes his head. "We're in Russia Alfred, make sure to keep your self warm. You might need something thicker than that bomber jacket of yours. And, be careful. I know he's had his eyes on you."

Alfred shrugs, "It's just a control thing. It'll go away in a few years, and he'll go back to hating me in no time."

"Be careful."

Alfred charms up a boisterous laugh to put the Brit at ease, "Of course Arty. I always am." And with that, the nation leaves the room and tries to find his way out of the building. Today wasn't a genuine day. Today was a fake until you make it kind of day. Today was a this-is-why-everyone-thinks-Americans-are-fake kind of day. Today he was only sporting a smile when someone was looking at him, only laughing to ease the tension, only playing along. He had to, in his own mind.

He finds his way out of the building and begins walking back to the hotel. It wasn't far. Although. That coffee shop looks really, really tempting. Something hot between his fingers while the cold air filled his lungs. He turns into the shop and walks up. He glances down the menu and orders something in accented, slow, yet clean Russian. The order is filled, he pays, and when the transaction is complete he sits down with the warm beverage.

Alfred had a thing for light coffee. Coffee that made the walls of your cheeks swell from the sweetness. He sighs in simple delight after sipping at it for a few moments and finds a peculiar blonde has come to sit with him. "Oh, it's you. Hey Germany. What's up, man?"

Ludwig holds his shoulders close to himself and sighs out a soft, "Nothing." His jacket was thick as the rest of theirs to keep them warm. A dull green, only open enough for the German's black scarf to be worn comfortably. "Same as you I suppose. Somezing warm. You looked lonely."

Alfred supposed that was true and smiles some, "Did I?" he sips his coffee and looks to Germany's. "How do you like yours."

"Excuse me?"

"Your coffee, I mean. You like it black, right?"

"Ja, sure. Too much sweet it… it's too much for me. I think you're about to understand that a little more."

Alfred chuckles softly, for once, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, one day, you'll just drink the coffee for what it is. You might not like it at first, but uh, well you get use to it. You start to acquaint with it. Once you like coffee, the way it just is, then adding all zat sugar, it is not appealing anymore."

"Huh." Alfred muses and looks to his cup. "You actually seem social today Germany. I'm not use to that."

"I try to save my voice for someone that is actually listening to me. That, or scolding Italy when he isn't."

"Right." Alfred shifts a bit uncomfortably and the red tint on his cheeks from the cold grows a bit brighter as he remembers how little he has been listening at meetings. At home. Anywhere. He feels like he's a million miles away.

"Alfred." The American snaps his gaze up so fast the German nearly jumps as their blue eyes meet. Germany continues after getting his attention. "I didn't just come sit with you for the company. I've noticed your distance gazes. If you ever." He clears his throat looking to his mitted gloved on the table. "If you ever just need to talk, I'm here. Don't make any rash decisions."

The American beams at the German. "Thank you." His voice was soft and floaty. "I don't know what to say. No one really wants to listen to me talk about my stupid problems. I don't blame them but-"

"I'd like for you to stop excluding yourself from the rest of the world. Stop trying to be such a hero. You obviously wore yourself out thin, and you have such a hard time accepting help in your time of crises and disasters, then you act like no one wanted to help. You can't even-" Ludwig stops himself before he says something hurtful.

"I know." Alfred presses his lips flat. "I can't even save myself."

Ludwig studies the other's face. His brows knit closely and his lips open only slightly. "Is it… another depression? You look…"

Alfred waves his hand in dismissal and laughs, "Oh no, no it's not that bad! Not right now."

Ludwig huffs and sips his coffee. After an awkward moment and a long pause ensues.

"Ludwig…. I'm afraid of doing what you did. I don't know if I could live with myself if…"

"I didn't know if I could either."

"I'm sorry. It must get really old to hear over and over. I know you've tried really hard to make up for it all."

"If Prussia taught me anything before he left us, it's that time doesn't heal all wounds. You should consider some, what is the word… introspection, before making any more, big decisions."

"They're not all mine to make."

"I know. Still- you've been childish. Even when making better choices you're executing them childishly. Just remember, you can talk to me." With that, Ludwig's eyes shift to the door. "Excuse me." He gets up and leaves the coffee shop, meeting France just outside the door. Francis appears to laugh, and they walk off. It's so weird how much changes over time. Alfred sinks into the seat and sighs. He finishes off his coffee and leaves.

The hotel was nice, as always. He had already checked in, and makes his way to his room. A weight lifts off of his shoulders as he enters, and he slips his jacket off, his thinner jacket beneath, and his tie. He gets a couple buttons down and he runs his fingers through his hair with a gentle exhale before he slips his glasses off. He remembered when he could see just fine without them. He just got so far sighted things were slipping away. Now he needed a new prescription for near sightedness. Eyes are weird. Being hundreds of years old is weird. How could they all do it? How could they all keep going? For so long. It'll just never end. Until it does.

Prussia was a grim reminder that even great nations die. And Prussia was so much like him. Energetic, enthusiastic, happy—at least on the outside. Full of himself… Alfred lingers on that thought. Introspection. Germany was younger than he was, why was he so mature? Was it looking after his elder nation instead of being the one that was taken care of? Was it the mistakes he's made? He certainly learned from them. Now he has a constitution even Alfred is willing to admit is better than his own. "I just want to restart. Everyone does. My entire country. Everyone agrees something is wrong. We just… no one can agree on what. Exactly."

There's a knock at the door.

"Hold your horses, I'll be right there."