America:

The meeting dragged on for hours after it was scheduled to end, so by the time Germany stopped talking, I was ready to beat my way out the door if I had to. That was the plan anyway until a hand laid itself gently on my shoulder. I felt my body tense considerably and tried to mentally relax. It's probably just Canada.

"Солнышко…"

I felt sick with nerves. "Yeah, what the hell do you want now?"

"Nothing, I suppose. I am happy to see you're well."

"Yeah, thanks," I told him flippantly and as casually as my voice could manage. I refused to look at him, but just stood there, waiting for something. His hands gripped my shoulder softly and he started to speak, but then stopped. He stood there for a moment, and with a gentle squeeze, he turned away and walked out of the room. France, Canada, and England were standing by the door watching me. Canada and England smiled tentatively and France's eyes narrowed as the Russian walked by. I strode over to them, gathering my composure as best I could.

"He seems surprisingly pleased to see you breathing…" laughed Canada awkwardly.

"I guess…" I mumbled quietly. Canada watched me curiously, his violet eyes blazing with questions and concern.

"Yeah, hahaha, he's such a psycho. Seriously," I laughed a little too loud. Canada smiled back, a little more cautiously than before.

"Why don't we all come over to my house and have dinner? We haven't seen you in ages after all," England said looking at America, his face darkening considerably at the second part.

"N-No T-That's okay, England. We wouldn't want to trouble you," Canada stuttered sending emergency signals to France who picked up quickly.

"I live so close; it's really not a bother."

"Uhh… Oh! How about a restaurant?" France asked, mildly panicking.

"I guess…" he sighed. "Is that okay with you, America?"

"…hunh? Yeah, sure. Totally!" He smiled brightly at the others followed by his signature laugh. "We could get—"

"No! No bloody McDonald's!" America pouted sadly in response and they adventured out to find a decent restaurant.

Narrator:

About an hour later they were comfortably seated in a semi-formal British restaurant about which France had complained considerably. America ordered the most "American" thing he could find on the menu and both Canada and France ordered things he couldn't even pronounce. He was famished by the time the food arrived and dug in quickly despite his nerves. He hadn't eaten so much since the fights began.

Where everyone had been quiet initially, enjoying their meal and uncertain of what to say, as the plates began to dwindle and bellies began to fill, conversation jumped sporadically back to life. Matt and Alfred began retelling familiar jokes and Arthur and Francis returned to their usual bickering. France commented on the horrible quality of English food, thanking God that he didn't have to eat authentically English, English food. England's face brightened with fury.

"Yeah? Well at least my people can do more than nap and fuck," he jested angrily.

"Hon hon! The only thing you were good at was battle and conquest, and see how far that god you!" He laughed, his hand sweeping to signal at their dinner guests. England's bangs fell over his eyes and he fell silent. France had touched a sensitive nerve, bringing up his younger charges. It was on thing to talk about his pirate days and empires, but another to talk about losing Alfred. Painful memories flew through his head and with each he became increasingly furious with the Frenchman. France was struggling to backpedal over the obvious taboo when England retorted.

"At least I wasn't the first to fall."

". . ." Canada and America stopped talking and France's fork fell listlessly to his plate. America looked down to his lap.

"Arthur…" He started.

"Yeah! At least I had a chance to try to save them, you fell before you even got the chance!" He shouted, as tears rolled down his eyes. "Fat lot of help you were, hnngg…" His shoulders slumped down toward his chest and tears ran down his chin, dripping to his lap. France's eyes watered at the sight and he placed a hand on England's shoulder which England quickly shrugged off.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I tried to be strong, but my people… I wasn't ready for a battle like that." Arthur refused to look at him. "I'm still alive, right?"

Canada remembered what it had been like dragging France's body from the battlefield. There had barely been a centimeter of skin not marred by battle. His heart twisted fiercely in his chest, and he felt like it was coiled tightly in barbed wire. Tears perched precariously on America's eyelashes as he watched the others and he was soon crying.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I always said that I'd be there to save the world, but I really failed this time. Everyone almost died and it was completely my fault. I was supposed to save you…"

The others watched America, startled by his outburst and processing what he had said.

"I don't blame you for leaving me out there…"

The nations looked blankly between each other. Canada was the first to move. He set his fork on the edge of his plate and placed his hand on his brother's. America looked up, startled, and his eyes were met by violet orbs brimming with tears. His mouth opened ready to speak, but the look he was getting from the others at the table silenced him immediately. Canada's eyes searched his, looking deep into his soul.

"You thought w-we left you?" He asked, quietly, his voice cracking midsentence. He was silent for a moment and his eyes became hard and his voice was deep and stern when he started again. "You listen to me America, and you listen good. I would never, never leave you in a time of need," he gripped the American's strong hand firmly with a hand just as strong. "We're brothers, Alfred. I would sooner die than see you suffer and I know you would do the same. Don't you ever doubt that."

America's eyes dried as he listened to his newly authoritative brother. He nodded slowly and silently, more to himself than to his brother before him. England and France watched America carefully, their eyes filled with apologetic affection. He looked up and blushed when he saw the others stare and turned his eyes quickly to stare at his thighs. He was silent for a moment before he started again.

"How are you…"

"Alive? We could as the same of you, not that you'd care to tell us. Probably just like you. It wasn't easy, but we took it day by day and slowly we healed. The hardest part was thinking you were gone and waiting for someone to take your place. I don't know if I could have handled watching another young nation grow from your soil…" England blushed.

France smiled sadly, and surveyed the food on the table. "We're just about done here. Why don't we head to England's for a nightcap? I'm sure you boys have plenty of catching up to do." The plan was decided and the nations paid their tabs and left the restaurant for England's house.