America had been ecstatic when England returned, sure that meant horrible food, but it was horrible food that he didn't have to cook. The joy that filled him when he brought Canada with him was indescribable, but in the past two weeks Canada had sat in the same chair in his room, looking out into God knows what with a depressed feel about him. The longer that Canada locked himself away, the more and more depressing the house became. And as a cheerful, outgoing person, he couldn't allow Canada to spread his depressing cloud any further.

His mind made up America walked up the stairs in the excited pace for which he would one day be known for. He went straight up to Canada's room and slammed the door open without hesitation as a wiser or more timid man might have.

"Good morning Canada!" he cheerfully proclaimed. "Have the trees done anything interesting today?" He moved over to look out the window, even though he knew what he was going to see. His room was right next to Canada's and had the same view as the boy. As expected, nothing interesting was going on beyond the pane of glass.

Canada didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge that America had entered the room. After a moment of complete quiet, an eternity in America's mind, the Yank looked at the other nation. Canada's face was ashen, his eyes sunken into his face, and his eyes were completely blank. America was out of that room faster than a horse running from fire.

"England!" America yelled as he bolted down the stairs, almost falling down them in his haste. "England! England!" He ran through the living room, searched the parlor, nothing was burning so he avoided the kitchen, and eventually ran into the yard. "England! England! England!"

England, who had been gardening, got to his feet and only had a second to brace himself when the younger nation barreled into him. "England it's horrible! We have to do something! I'm not sure what happened!" England sighed; planting the lilies would have to wait.

"America, I can't understand you. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened," England instructed.

"Canada's dead!" America exclaimed. England paled and he ran to Canada's room, only getting there faster than America because of his longer legs. America hung back by the door as England looked Canada over. He heard England sigh in relief as he picked up Canada and set him on his bed. America looked expectantly at England as he returned.

"He's not dead, only exhausted," England said in a stern voice. "Don't ever scare me like that again. Next time make sure he's not breathing before claiming he's dead." Then he swatted America's hand in punishment. "Never let emotions override your judgment." Then he went to return to the garden.

"Never let emotions override your judgment," America mocked and stuck his tongue in the direction England had gone. "Stupid git." With the crisis passed America walked up to the bedside. He had never seen what exhaustion looked like, and was rather curious of it. After a few moments of watching Canada's eyes closed. America was careful, this time, to note the rise and fall of Canada's chest. Satisfied that the doom and gloom couldn't spread while Canada was asleep, America left the room feeling rather triumphant. Somehow he had managed to save the day. But this victory left America rather bored with nothing to do.

"Let's go bother England," America decided. After all, a moment spent annoying England was a moment well spent. So with a cheery outlook he went out to the garden. England was finally planting the lilies as America walked up and sat beside him. England grimaced at the thought of what America might have gotten into his head this time.

"Canada's sleeping," the boy said.

"That's good, it means he'll recover faster," England said, though he was amazed at how considerate America was being. He recalled multiple times being so rudely awakened just because America wanted to know what day it was, or something stupid like that.

"So what's exhaustion?" America asked.

"Exhaustion is the state of being when someone hasn't had enough sleep. A few causes of it are caused by lack of sleep, not enough food, and having worked too hard," England said. He continued to talk, probably some attempt to teach America something, but America didn't really care. And it was no fun to bother America if England was going to talk through the entirety of it. So he left.

America wandered about the land and house without a clue of what to do, and to be honest, he was bored out of his mind. Eventually he ended up with the kitchen with a growling stomach. England had left a plate of whatever-the-hell-breakfast-was on the counter, but America had no real interest in eating something that England had made. So, with nothing better to do, America got out a pan and began to make his favorite meal of all time. Hamburgers.

The smell of cooking meat flowed through the kitchen, making America's stomach growl even more. He moved about the kitchen; slicing onions and tomatoes; chopping up lettuce; and toasting the buns. "I swear, when I'm my own country I'll hire people to make hamburgers all the time so I never have to wait for a burger," America muttered. England would have reprimanded him if he heard what the Yank had just said. Would've probably said something along the lines of 'that's a waste of manpower and treason, now go peel carrots'.

After about an hour America had finished making, and eating his hamburgers. He ate seven burgers in total. He was, after all, a growing nation and needed his strength. But try as he might he couldn't eat the final burger. There was no sense in letting the burger go to waste; the thought itself almost brought the Yank to tears. England wouldn't appreciate the burger, so that left one other person in the house. Besides didn't England say something about Canada needing food to cure his whatever-the-hell-was-wrong-with-him? So, with his mind made up, America paraded up the stairs to present Canada with the burger.

Canada was back in his chair by the time America entered, looking out into the trees. "Hello Canada!" America proudly proclaimed. "I thought you might be hungry so I made you a hamburger." He waltzed over to the Canada and put the burger on the side table.

Canada looked at the burger beside him. "I'm not hungry," he muttered as he turned back to the window.

"But you have to eat it," America blurted. "I can't let a hamburger go to waste, and England won't even touch it." Canada turned and glared at the other nation. Slowly he rose from his chair, and then pushed America out of his room. It wasn't until he heard the lock click into place that America realized that it would have been better had he not spoken at all. That and the hamburger was still in the room with Canada. The poor hamburger, destined never to be eaten.

"Canada," America yelled as he pounded on the door. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound like that. Please open the door."

"Go away!" Canada yelled. That was the only response America got, even after ten minutes of pounding on the door.

"Well this is certainly troublesome," America mumbled as he walked into his room. Not only was the hamburger in danger of not being eaten, but Canada had gone back to spreading the depressingness around the house. Depression; that was the word he was looking for. So he took to pacing the room as he attempted to find a reasonable solution to this big mess.

"The biggest problem will be getting into the room," America muttered to himself. "Canada probably won't open the door, and there's no way in hell that England is going to give me the key. I can't break one of the walls down, so that just leaves the window." A light went off in America's head as he dashed to his window.

There it was, just as he thought; a roof that connected his window and Canada's. Sure England would have a fit if he knew America walked about on the roof, but it would be worth it just to see his reaction. America was halfway out the window when another thought occurred to him. How would he cheer Canada up?

It took a bit longer to come up with a solution to that than the window idea. He snuck down into England's room, and rooted through the chest at the end of his bed till he found what he was looking for, and then he dashed back up the stairs to the safety of his room. America grinned as he climbed into the gaudy outfit. Canada would definitely cheer up at the sight of this, America thought, either that or shocked.

I don't look half bad, America thought as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window. Oh how he would love to see England's reaction to this later, but for now it was time to go cheer up some grouchy Canada. Very carefully, America slipped out the window and walked over to the other room.

Canada took one look at the Yank and fell out of the chair. His mouth was gaping and his eye wide as he tried to understand what stood before him. After the initial shock passed Canada ripped the window open.

"What are you wearing?" Canada asked bewildered. America smiled triumphantly.

"England's dress," he said proudly. "I think it belonged to one of his queens, either that or a very interesting king. I haven't quite decided yet. Can I come in?" Canada nodded mutely and stepped away from the window to allow the other nation in.

"Aren't you worried you'll get in trouble?" Canada asked. "England's going to be furious." America laughed.

"Actually I look forward to seeing his face once he's realized what I've done," America boasted. "He turns the most interesting shade of red when he's angry."

"But aren't you scared of what he'll do to punish you?" Canada asked weakly.

"Are you kidding? The worse he's ever done to me was make me work in the garden and slap me on the hand a couple of times. He might seem all mean, but he can be such a wimp sometimes."

Canada just stared at the other nation. He couldn't imaging going against England like America was. After all England had beaten France up; and France was the strongest person he had ever known. And here America was, laughing at the idea. It made his head reel.

"So are you feeling better now?" America asked. Canada nodded and smiled weakly at the Yank. The first time America had seen him smile in a long time. "So what do you say? Brothers?"

Canada nodded slowly. "Brothers," he agreed. Perhaps living with America and England wasn't going to be as bad as he thought. Though he really wished he could see France again.

"Alright, and now with that settled, let's go find England," America proclaimed. "It shouldn't take him much longer to learn of his missing dress."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Canada protested.

"Nonsense."

And as they left the room the hamburger sat lonely on the side table. Never to be eaten.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is written above, not the characters, not the plot. The only thing that is mine is the voice that I write with, so if you wish to write about the same thing I am then go ahead, just don't write it word for word as you have just read. Before I have a random amount of people telling me that hamburgers didn't exist during the time of whenever this is I would like to say that I'm almost certain they didn't exist, but had no idea what would be period accurate and as iconic as the burger. (Hell for all I know the hamburger already existed, I'm too lazy to try and look it up. And on a side note I'm not too good with history so there might be some discrepancy from time to time.) And for those of you who are interested I wanted to put America in Bloody Mary's dress, but again had no idea whether that would have been before or after the time period I'm writing about. Suggestions and reviews are appreciated. I plan to have the next chapter out by this time next week, but might speed up the process if people message me or give me some ideas. And I'd like to take the time now to thank all those who reviewed and favorite my story. It means a lot to me.