To put it bluntly, Canada was worried about his brother. For all the talk about things being great, the market was teetering and all that was left was seeing what pushed it over the edge. And when it fell the reverberations would shake the world. Shaking his head in an attempt to push back the dark thoughts, Canada looked over his brother. America was chattering away at him and yet it was mindless; his thoughts were elsewhere. His hands were twitchy at his sides; it looked as if he hadn't slept in a week, and whenever Alfred thought he wasn't looking he coughed into his sleeve.
"Mattie… Earth to Mattie! You in there bro?" Canada blinked and refocused on the hand America was waving in front of his face. Canada shot him an apologetic smile. "Sorry Al, just thinking. What did you say?" America smiled and Canada noted with dismay that even this lacked its usual shine. "No problem. We're here just in time. It's about to open." Canada took in their surroundings. They had arrived at the New York Stock Exchange. America had wanted to stop in for the opening before they headed out to spend the day together. Though his brother hid it behind his usual cheerfulness, Canada had known him too long to miss the unease in his eyes. Nothing had happened yet, but something was coming. America, like any Nation, wanted to be in the thick of it when it hit.
The inside of the Stock Exchange was just as impressive as the exterior. America and Canada took up a spot along the wall to watch the activity on the floor. Men moved here and there across the room, busy and calm, but again there was that edge of unease to every movement. Canada threw another look at his brother who was watching the men with pride. "What do you think Mattie?" He opened his mouth to answer just as the bell rang. The men began to move in earnest and vigor as they watched. The energy in the room bordered on manic as Canada turned back. "It's really great Al… Al?" America was standing stock still as the color drained from his face. Only vaguely aware of the growing chaos on the floor, Canada reached for America who was now white as paper.
With a horrible wracking cough he unfroze. It continued without end, leaving him no chance to catch his breath. Canada glanced around frantically for any kind of assistance. His attention refocused on America right as he gave a terrifying wet sounding cough that splattered on the ground. With a shudder he dropped to his knees and continued to hack. Horrified, Canada realized his brother was spitting up blood. He dove towards him with a cry. "Alfred!" Hands bracing the other blond he whipped his head around. "Please anyone help!" People all around them were frantic, darting to and fro, shouting, and gravely watching the ticker. None moved from their own troubles to come to their assistance. So desperate to have anyone help, Canada didn't realize America was trying to say something until a hand touched his own.
"Mattie, don't worry about me. I can handle it. It'll be fine." His voice was terribly hoarse and the image was made worse by the blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. "Don't be an idiot, Al!" America blinked in surprise. The last time his brother had used that tone of voice to snap at him had been a hundred years ago and his heart had been on fire. He was about to make his own snappish reply when another wave of coughing over took him. He tightened his grip on Canada's hand and he knew it must have hurt, but no complaints passed the other's lips. Instead he waited for it to pass and then set America so he was leaning against the wall. Canada's thoughts whirled as he looked around. We need to get back to his house. Lithuania should be there and we can treat him better. But how to do it… We walked here but obviously that won't work now. Maybe a cab?
His train of thought derailed as he glanced at his hands. Blood so much blood, on his hands, the floor, and America. Choking down his emotion, he was a Nation for goodness sake, he's been through wars and a little blood should not bother him, but it was Al. And he can't die, he's my brother, and he can't die. For his part, America was struggling back to his feet, eyes on fire in determination. Because they were his people and as their Nation he owed it to them to be strong, even if it felt like his insides were attempting to come out through his mouth and his very veins were burning. Pushing off the wall, he stumbled immediately and Canada caught him. "Come on, Al. We're going home." Canada's voice was steel, no objections would be heard and it reminded America that his brother was far from the meek little boy everyone seemed to see him as.
Pulling one arm over his shoulders so his brother was steadier, Canada began to head for the doors. Outside more people raced around, heading for their banks and fighting to get inside to remove their money. The sight and atmosphere had America hacking again. Ducking into an alley Canada could only watch as his brother threw up more blood, his face deathly white. Finished for the moment, he swayed before his eyes rolled back and Canada barely caught him before his head cracked against the ground. Pulling him upright again, back to the street they went. He needed a vehicle to get America home. Out of this madness and somewhere quiet where they could look after him and help him through it.
As if sent by the grace of God himself a taxi pulled up almost directly in front of them and a business man scrambled out. Before the driver could race off again, Canada's hand shot out and caught the door. He began helping the all but unconsciousness America into the seat and then slid in himself. The driver raised an eyebrow concerned despite himself thanks to their Nation influence. "Your friend okay there?" "I'm taking him home now to get some help. Now if you could take us to-" With a nod, they speed off. A bit of a bumpy ride, it brought America around slightly to Canada's relief. Seeing his brother drawn, white, and above all quiet was not natural.
"Mattie? W-where are we? Are we going somewhere? What about lunch?" Canada smoothed a hand over his brother's hair, pushing it out of his face. "We're in a cab on our way back to your house Al. You collapsed remember? Toris is at home and we need to get you some help." America frowned slightly, not liking the idea of needing help. He opened his mouth, but before he could voice his complaint another wave of coughing took him. Canada could only watch as his brother fell further as his country spiraled down with nothing more than a comforting hand on his back. He knew it happened to their citizens, only able to watch as you lost someone you loved, but they were Nations. It wasn't supposed to be this way for them. They had just survived the Great War, the war to end all wars.
"We're here. You need any help getting him inside?" The driver turned to look over the seat. Both Canada and America shook their heads. "I'm fine," America rasped out as he shoved his way out the car door, only to lean heavily on it to stay standing. Sighing Canada left him there as he paid the driver. "Thank you for your help, but here comes our friend. He'll help me get the idiot inside and lying down." Smiling slightly for the driver's benefit, he crossed to his brother and pulled his arm over his shoulder again just as Lithuania reached them. "Oh dear I was worried when I saw the news. Is Mr. America okay?" America pulled his head up, an activity that should not take as much energy as it did now. "I'm fine Toris, really." Lithuania raised an eyebrow and looked at Matthew who was rolling his eyes. Ducking to America's other side, Lithuania and Canada managed to get America up to the house and settled on the couch in the living room.
Lying down, America's exhaustion was plain. He threw an arm over his eyes and let a sigh roll deep and long. It spoke volumes and Canada and Lithuania crept quickly into the kitchen. "It's bad isn't it?" they asked at the same time. Small smiles quirked before falling back to the problem at hand. Canada began to wash the blood from his hands. "All I know is its bad enough for people to rush the banks and make him cough up blood… a lot of blood." Lithuania watched as Canada continued to scrub at his now clean hands. "He just kept coughing and I couldn't do anything and I was panicking, but luckily we found a ride back and now all I can do is worry if he's going to last the night and-" Lithuania pulled him from the sink and gave him a hand towel before filling a glass for America. Without a word he went back into the living room to set it on the end table.
Returning to the kitchen, Canada had his face in his hands and was taking deep breaths. "Sorry. I'm sure you think I'm acting like a little kid when you're being affected yourself." Lithuania shook his head and looked straight at the younger Nation. "It's not childish to worry when someone you love is sick or in danger. He's your brother and I'm glad to see past grievances have not affected your relationship with Mr. America. As for how bad things are… the market is crashing. I'm afraid Mr. America is not out of the woods yet." Canada took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Right. First let's get him cleaned up and something for him to cough into so we can avoid more of a mess. I'm going to go call someone." He marched out of the room and down to the office to find a phone.
Lithuania got another hand towel for America to clean his face, grabbed a bowl, and reentered the living room. The Nation in question was downing the glass of water while propped up on one arm. "Ah Mr. America let me help you with that!" One eye cracked open and a smile albeit a small one worked its way onto his face. "Toris, how many times have I asked you to call me Alfred? And I'm perfectly able to get a drink on my ow-" A wracking cough cut him off and Lithuania handed him the bowl just in time. He spit globs of blood into it before sinking back into the couch. "For your face." Lithuania offered the hand towel and America took it, grateful to have a means to remove the dried blood from his face.
Coming back with a fresh glass of water, Lithuania walked up next to the down Nation and would have gone to find Canada if not for the hand that grasped his arm. "Mr. America?" America looked up at him from beneath his own arm. "Alfred and I just wanted to say… I'm sorry Toris. I'm such an idiot and I've made a huge mess of things that both you and Mattie are suffering for. I can't do anything to help because every time I even think about moving my whole body complains and I-" Apparently both North American brothers had a tendency to ramble when upset. America for his part was cut off once again by his cough which was thankfully blood free this time. Lithuania handed him the fresh glass and then crossed his arms.
"Mr. Amer- Alfred… I am older than you and therefore have more experience in these things. You have made mistakes," The blond on the couch flinched, but the brunet continued on. "That I will not deny, but you are not the only one. Never think that the others are above stumbling just because they are older than you. And as for suffering… helping out a good friend when they under the weather is not a burden. It is a task I take gladly after all you have done for me. I am sure Mr. Canada feels much the same. You are brothers, no?" "Yes." Both looked around to see Canada standing in the doorway smiling.
"Brothers to the end right Al?" They grasped forearms before Canada pulled his twin in for a hug. America was still warm, real, and so there that he relaxed in relief. Rough patch in the future, yes. The end of his brother, no. Now for the not-so-great news. "Al I called Arthur. They're calling an emergency meeting and demanding your presence to… explain things." More like take the blame. America sighed and squared his shoulders. "Well I have to face the music sometime. Might as well go prepare and get some rest." He headed up the stairs, but paused before reaching the top. "Thanks you guys, really. Sorry to ruin our day Mattie. See you tomorrow."
The tired blond disappeared in the gloom up the next level and Canada realized the sun was setting. The day, so open and bright at the start, was drawing to a close, the sunset the color of blood. The sight a reminder that the trouble had only just started. Tomorrow his brother would face the world, but for now it was time he returned to his own home. Bidding farewell to Lithuania, Canada stepped outside and took a breath of the crisp autumn air. His eyes slid closed and just before heading home he wished America luck. He was going to need it.
And so October 29, 1929 came to a close. A dreadful day that promised an uncertain future.
Well this was fun. I got to work on my writing the North American brothers and their interaction, got to write Lithuania which is something I haven't really done before, and I got to write about history... Hooray! I would be forever thankful if you could drop me a review. I love hearing what people think. ;)
But yeah Black Tuesday is the day the of the stock market crash that lead to the Great Depression. Which translated to Hetaliaverse means not much fun for Alfred. Poor guy, to make it up to him maybe I'll write something nice and fluffy with USUK. :D