Chapter 10

Okay, I have to say, I was rather excited to do this chapter, and thank you to my two anonymous reviewers and ALLT. I love you! You three have been the only ones to review this lately! Anyways, I'm glad those who have reviewed liked it! I'd love to hear opinions from the rest of you, even if there bad ones. I'm begging now aren't I? *shrugs* I'll stop. Sorry if Obama is out of personality, I'm not American so I don't know him very well...

America slowly did up the button on his marines' uniform and looked at himself in the mirror. Texas sat on his nose, his uniform was fresh and pressed, his hair was neater than it usually was, but still a little messy and he looked handsome.

There was absolutely no denying it; he was extremely handsome right now.

"America." There was a heavy knocking on the door. "Are you ready yet? We have to go."

America opened the door to find his boss standing in front of the door. America was never really early so Obama took it upon himself to come early so America would be on time for wherever he was going. He was like England in that way.

"Yep, I'm ready!" America fist pumped. "To the car!"

It was a wonder his bosses could put up with him for as long as they had to.

*MAGICAL TIME LEAP. AGAIN.*

America stood beside Obama, holding a reef of flowers. The graves were right in front of him, and he was about to put the reef on one of them, just as he did every year. And amazingly, it still made feelings brew in the pit of his stomach. So many feelings that came with this date.

As he lay the reef down on the grave, America blinked back tears, feeling a stab in his heart, knowing that whoever this man was, he did for his country. For America himself. He easily could've fought alongside the man at one point.

That made the feelings grow, a lot.

To know that all these men had died for him was...overwhelming to say the least.

*FLASHBACK*

The bullets whizzed around America's head and around the wounded soldier, but he still did not move from the man's side. If a stray bullet hit him...meh, he'd be fine in a couple hours or so.

The man beside him had taken a bullet to his leg, rupturing the artery. He was dying slowly. And America, having been beside him when he was hit, couldn't leave him, no way. He was going to stay with this young man till the end.

The young man focused on America's face it seemed and his hand reached for America's. America grasped it in back. An unspoken conversation went between them and America squeezed gently.

The man gave a slight nod and closed his eyes. America's hand was still holding his as it went cold. He looked back to the battlefield. This man deserved to have his death known, even if it was only by one person. America would continue this fight, for each of these men that had died, till it was over, then he would try and make sure it never happened again.

*END FLASHBACK*

America stood back, watching others place reefs on the graves like he had. He was sure that soldier was there somewhere and he closed his eyes, fighting back the feelings that threatened to erupt. He had carried on that fight, and he had helped end it. He only had one wish about it that it had never happened, never happened so none of those men had been killed.

But it had happened, and the least he could do was remember, all of them, each and every one of his citizens. He would always remember them.

As the crowd dissipated and America looked over the graves for a moment before turning around, there was a parade later that he had to be there for too. "Take up our quarrel with the foe."