Canada stared at the man before him. Only slightly taller and almost identical in every way. The only difference was the emotions on their faces which clearly set them apart.

While one seemed happy almost to the point of insanity, the others was grim and sadness was shown through the eyes. Slightly drooping down Canada's gaze went to focus on the ground - anywhere but America's face.

He had never realized just how close his brother was to breaking and he felt bad for not noticing and being able to stop it. Canada thought that once America had gained his independence he would go back to normal and stop acting so upset all the time. He was wrong.

Shortly after America was done with fighting England he had moved on to the Canadians land. At first Canada had thought nothing of it, and did little to dissuade his brother from invading. He believed that the American would soon realize the error of his ways and go home. Later he realized that this was not happening.

After America had made it clear that his sights were set on taking Canada for his own, England felt the need to interfere. To this day Canada is still unsure of whether or not England joined the fight because he felt obliged to the Canadian that was still under his rule or because he just wanted to fight with America, and to convey all his feelings of betrayal at America's leaving.

England was in love with America, this much Canada knew. Often the drunk man would ramble about him to the point where Canada could take no more and would leave him alone at the bar to complain. He also knew that England was heartbroken over America's leave and would do anything to get him back. Even if that meant involving the Canadian in their issues.

While during the war America had come so close to leaving scars so deep on the Canadian that at times he was unsure of whether or not he would heal. Emotionally and physically. But he had healed- at least enough to get back at his brother. And he would. The white house was proof of this.

So while they stood there beside the white house, watching it burn, and staring into each others faces Canada could see all the hurt and sadness in the others eyes. America watched enchanted by the flames that consumed his home, and his heart. He felt himself burn inside at everything he had recently gone through, that others had put him through.

He had fought England and lost the strong big brother he thought he once had, and then taken to invading Canada. His was angry at his twin for not leaving with him, although America had made it perfectly clear that this is what he wanted.

They would be the most powerful nation in the world, if they joined together and America was crushed when Canada had flat out rejected this proposition. He knew that if the Canadian would at least have given it a chance he would have grown to like it, living alongside America and being so powerful. He knew all about his brother's problem with invisibility and he had promised that if they did this every nation would remember him.

But the Canadian had been so reluctant to leave England so America decided to give Canada the push he needed and invaded his brothers land. He never thought that Canada would take it so harsh and attack back.

America had quickly learned how dangerous the boy could be in a fight the first time he had met him on the battlefield. While England had been full of regret and sadness the Canadian was full of fight and anger.

The first time he had seen him, America had been on the front battle lines ready to shoot the first Canadian soldier to step a foot on the land they had just stolen. Surprisingly none had come and America was starting to doze off finding the watch boring.

That's when he had seen them. A large group had come running at his tired troops who were so strategically placed on the land. Canada, his quiet little brother had led the lot. At first America just watched amazed at the spirit the Canadians still had left in them until snapping out of his daze and ordering his troops to fight.

Getting into the heat of the battle himself, America grabbed his gun and pushed his way into the action. He kept his eyes out for any tell tale signs of his brother. While fighting he would catch a streak of blonde hair or a glimpse of purple eyes out of the corner of his eye but couldn't find his brother through the mess of people.

Deciding to focus on the fight itself America raised his gun and shot at the Canadian man nearest to him. Keeping up with his pace he moved farther into the battle until he came face to face with his twin.

"Canada..." He said, but the other boy wasn't listening. The fighting had taken its toll on him and his eyes were bloodshot. His hair was a scraggly mess and he was covered in blood of both the enemy and his own people.

"Canada..." America tried again, hoping to snap his brother out of it. Canada just ignored him and flung his gun at his brother with hope that it would make contact with the other boys head. Horrified America jerked his head back and took a closer look at his the brother. The boy could not tell who he was! America quickly left the battle grounds wanting to get as far away from that place as he could.

Snapping out of his memories America focused on the problem at hand. His white house, his home, was burning in front of him.

Canada could see his brothers eyes glaze over, watching him slowly break inside knowing there was nothing he could do. America had troubles, he knew, but so did all the other nations. He would start to feel himself pitying his brother until he remembered all the hurt the man had inflicted on him.

So instead they stood there watching the white house burn. America in agony and pain all the while threatening to fall off the edge of sanity, and Canada watching his brother wondering - what would happen next?

Would they ever find a time when the two of them could laugh together and enjoy eachothers company. Would his brother ever lose the scars of war and would he ever be able to get the sight of America- so broken and lost, out of his mind?

Hope you enjoyed :D
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