Well I managed to finish this chapter in quite a short time, considering how long it is. I've never written this much on a school day, so I consider that an achievement.

Also, don't forget to review. That is, if you want to of course.

America had been silent the remaining afternoon, and evening during the day he had his self harm incident. There wasn't even a single peep from him when nighttime hit, and during the late hours was usually when he was the most talkative. He was still willing to eat the food he was given, which definitely helped out England's mood. Though he was still slightly worried about America suddenly becoming mute, it was relieving that the nation was still somewhat taking care of himself. Besides, it was not as if America's silence happened for absolutely no reason, for England could understand cause for the social withdraw. If it only lasted for the rest of that day, then he would let the problem solve itself.

Then morning came the next day, and since America and England were to go on a plane in order to quickly arrive at Canada's place, it was only necessary for the two nations to wake up early. After fifteen minutes of showering, America had finally asked, "So why are we going to Canada's place?"

England explained, "He told us to come over, since he wants to help you."

"Help me with-" America stopped when a realization hit him, then cried out, "Wait, you told him!?"

"Well, not necessarily." England tried to reason, "He figured out that you were cutting yourself, and when he confronted me about it, I told him that he was correct."

America shook his head, "You could've made up an excuse for those scars. Why would you tell him my secret?"

"It was only fair," England began, "and for many reasons too. He was able to figure out your secret to begin with. He also seemed to be concerned with the idea of you harming yourself. As I said before, there are many reasons I could list, but the most important one is that he is your brother, and he has every right to know. In fact, everyone in our little family has a right to know."

A moment later, America asked a question in a fashion that clearly announced the fact that he was only using it as his own ammo, and not for the sake of being inquisitive, "So, since everyone in our little family has a right to know, does that mean that France gets to find out as well?"

Quickly, England shook his head, "No, no, no, no. He never gets to find out. Only Canada and I will ever know about this. Hopefully, no one else will ever have to find out."

"And what will you do if someone does find out about this?" America questioned, and the answer to his question came without a moment's hesitation, but instead it was an answer full of strength and dedication. Technically, England made a vow, "I promise you that if anyone finds out, I will deal with them personally to make sure they never tell another living soul."

America titled his head, "Don't you think that's a little harsh?'

England replied with a smile, "If it's for the sake of your reputation, no. It isn't too harsh."

At this response, America felt the need to interrogate England further, "What if that nation happened to be someone like Japan? I know Japan would never spread a secret like that, so would you just jump on him as soon as he found out?"

"Well, of course I wouldn't give a nation like Japan hell for finding out." England answered, his voice becoming brisk, "Now stop asking me questions, we're running out of time."

Swiftly, both America and England finished preparing themselves for the flight. The airport wasn't too far from their current location, but they still wanted to make sure that they didn't miss the flight. They were able to arrive just on time, since they didn't have to wait a few hours, or worse yet, miss the flight. The part that England and America enjoyed the most about the flight was the fact that it only lasted approximately one and a half hours. Usually England didn't mind being in planes, but he was eager to arrive at Canada's place. Therefore, the flight was not nearly as enjoyable as it could've been for him. America also usually felt the same way about planes, but much to his disappointment, he found absolutely no thrill in the flight. He didn't understand why he had lost interest in flying, but it didn't come to him as too much of a surprise. After all, flying was not the only thing America had lost interest in. As Much as America hated it, he learned that many hobbies he once very much enjoyed were now nothing more than chores. No matter how much he tried to control this, he found that misfortune just wouldn't change.

Once again, America had allowed himself to be absorbed in the endless void of his depressed mind. The more he thought about his lack of thrill towards the events in his life, the more he wondered why he was still breathing. Wondering why he was still breathing made it more painful it more painful for him to breath. Every laborious breath provided him nothing more than pure agony. Soon, it felt as if the claws of despair had a grip on his lungs. His lungs, ones that once yield enough power to echo his voice throughout an entire forest were now becoming weaker as the despair in America's heart continued to circulate it's negativity without their consent. Oxygen became much more challenging for America to acquire as deep pools of forlorn weighed his lungs down. No longer was the depression a problem for his stomach, mind, and heart. It was now his lungs that were beginning to receive their equal share of torment.

It was England's voice that brought America back to, what he considered, a reality that was equally harsh to his own, "Okay America, we're at Canada's house."

America checked out his surroundings, and sure enough, they were in fact standing in Canada's front yard. It was a sudden change in scenery to him, and was certainly confusing, I don't remember walking off the plane. Also, how did I get here? Maybe I somehow grew too deep into a daydream that I lost track of my surroundings completely. I had no idea I was capable of mindlessly following England.

England was the one who knocked on the door in order to grab Canada's attention. It wasn't long until the door was opened to reveal a rather frantic Canadian. As soon as Canada caught sight of the two nations at his door, he explained in his timid voice, "Sorry, I must've slept in."

America stared blankly at Canada for a moment before finally replying, "It's only eight in the morning."

"Oh maple!" Canada cried out, trying to quickly tame his scruffy morning hair with his hands, "It's way past my time to eat breakfast. I'm so sorry about that, I seem to be out of it today."

"It's fine, really." England assured, then added, "I would really like to thank you for having us over. It really is generous of you to provide America some support."

"No problem." Canada replied with a shy smile, clearly not use to being appreciated, "Well I'll go take a shower real quick, and then I can make some pancakes for everyone."

With that said, Canada ran upstairs in order to complete his morning routine before breakfast. England could easily tell that America didn't look too fond of his situation. England told him, trying his best to be persuasive, "Trust me, I know your brother will be able to help you out. In fact, I have a lot of faith that he'll do a much better job than me. Of course, I'm still going to be there to help you out."

America shook his head, "I still can't believe you told him. Everything was fine until you decided to bring me to his house."

"It was for the best, Alfred." England explained, "After what I saw you do yesterday, I didn't want to take any more chances. It was obvious that my support isn't enough, and that you'll need help from another person as well."

"And how exactly do you know if Canada's the correct choice?" Now America was glaring, as if he expected England to oppose him at any moment, "It's not like you can remember his name half of the time. Considering the fact that you lack the basic knowledge of him, there's no way you could possibly know whether he'd be better at 'helping' me than you."

England became quite agitated with America's response. He thought the younger nation was being ridiculous, much too ridiculous. He snapped, "I have no idea what had gotten into you lately, but it needs to stop! You're negativity isn't going to help the situation! Now stop doubting your brothers ability to help you out with this, you're lucky that he's as willing as he is to spend some spare time with you!"

America was hurt by the sudden retort, but kept the pain to himself as he continued to give England a challenging stare. Apparently England didn't approve to this, "Oh would you stop that? Seriously, you need to stop it with your attitude. There's no reason for you to be so hostile."

The more England continued to scold him over his attitude, the more America began to feel similar to that of a child who was being lectured for doing something wrong. America did not enjoy that feeling at all. It was one of the reasons he became independent, and never did he think he'd be treated as an angsty teenager. America decided to roll his eyes, to show that he was not interested in England's lecture. England did not take this too well as he scolded with an obvious tone of warning, "Alfred! What did I just tell you?"

"You're not my mom." America retorted. That set England over the edge as he stepped much too close to America, and pulled him closer by gripping the front of his shirt, "I'm not going to tell you again. Stop it with the attitude!"

Immediately after saying that, England let go of America, and turned away from his former colony. He took started taking deep breaths in an attempt to control himself. Once England stopped quivering, he turned to glance at America, and immediately felt his stomach knot up with guilt. The younger nation had a hurt expression on his face, and it was obvious that he was trying to prevent himself from breaking down into tears. England thought to himself, Bloody hell, I was too harsh on him. I really need to learn to control my anger. England's voice was full of remorse when he finally spoke, "I'm sorry Alfred, I didn't mean to upset you. Please don't cry."

America shook his head, refusing to accept England's apology. A few moments late, Canada made his appearance in the room. After a while of observing the scene in front of him, he asked, "Is everything okay?"

England felt the need to confess, "It's my fault. I made America upset. I'm terribly sorry. I shouldn't have let myself lose control over my temper."

It was England's turn to feel equivalent to a child who was ashamed of their wrong doing. He didn't need to be scolded to understand how he made America feel. Canada looked at America. Then at England, and back to America. The quiet nation seemed to be investigating the situation further based on America and England's body language. Finally, Canada asked England, "So, why did you lose your temper with Alfred?"

England glanced at America before explaining, "I was sick of the attitude he was giving me. Of course, there was a better way of handling the situation. I wasn't thinking straight."

Canada sighed, "Just make sure not to take you temper out on him at such an extreme level in the future."

England nodded, and Canada decided that it was time to change the topic, "Well, I'm going to make those pancakes now. It won't take long at all."

True to his word, Canada arrived at the table England and America were sitting at with a plate stacked with six pancakes, in what felt to America about five minutes. Canada and England were already digging into their pancakes, clearly famished, while America just picked at his as if they would come to life at any moment. Canada noticed this after he finished his first pancake, and asked, "What's wrong America? Are you still upset?"

America nodded, still picking at his food. Canada tried his best to be reassuring, "England didn't mean to make you upset. He really does feel bad about doing so."

"I know." America mumbled, They're wasting their time on me. He thought sadly. Canada knew that America still felt upset as he advised, "Maybe you'll feel better if you eat those pancakes."

Immediately after Canada said that, America pushed his plate away and announced, "I'm not hungry."

Baffled by this, Canada tried to explained, "Maybe you just don't feel hungry right now, but the moment you take your first bite, you'll realize that you really are."

England knew that wasn't going to work, so he mouthed to Canada at an angle so that America would be unable to understand him, "I forgot to tell you, he has an eating disorder."

"Oh," Canada mouthed back. His thoughts became hesitant, I know how to handle depression, but I have no idea how to handle an eating disorder. This is going to be difficult.

However, it appeared to Canada that he didn't really need to worry about convincing America to eat because when he glanced at America to see if he could come up with a solution, England had already somehow managed to persuade America to eat. In fact, America ended up binging all of his pancakes, completely unaware of how carelessly he was ingesting his food. He didn't even seem to notice, nor care that he was eating anything at all. Whether he was swallowing a morsel, or had scarfed down five pounds of beef no longer seemed to matter one bit to America. It was all magical to Canada, I know he's the one who raised America, but he seems to understand him better than I expected.

After finishing his meal, America seemed to be much more perky. Canada smiled at this, England seems to know what he's doing, at least with the eating part, but I still hold my doubts for the self harm. I know for a fact that England does not have enough experience with it. England and America's conversation became nothing more than white noise to Canada as he continued to think, Maybe I'll find the right time to tell him soon.

It was when Canada found America sitting on the couch watching TV without England that allowed him to decide that it was time to tell his brother. Only problem was, now that he was confronted with the perfect opportunity, his mind went blank. Canada had absolutely no idea how to explain the information he wanted to share with America. Fortunately, Canada's meager confidence returned, and he was finally able to grab America's attention, "I'm sorry this is so sudden, but there's something I need to show you."

America turned his attention towards Canada, who was now right next to him. Intrigued, America asked, "What do you want to show me?"

Canada was extremely hesitant at first, but then he sighed and rolled up one of his sleeves. America flinched at the sight. Slender, faint scars littered Canada's arm. Once America was over his shock, Canada explained, "You weren't the only one who had this problem. Don't worry about me, I stopped doing it a long time ago."

Baffled, America almost yelled, "Matthew, why didn't you tell me about this? I would've helped you!"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it until now, but I was ashamed." Canada explained, "I didn't know what others would think of me, so I kept a secret between me and papa."

"Wait, France knew about this too?"

Canada nodded, "Not only did he know about it, but he helped me get better as soon as he found out. At first I hated him for it, but now I just can't thank him enough. He really did make my life better, and I hope that I can do the same for you."

"But it's always so tempting for me to draw blood in my skin." America explained, wondering how he could ever recover, "The pain just feels so rewarding. Are you sure you can help me?"

"It's never too late to get help," Canada began, "If I didn't have faith in you, I wouldn't have shown you my scars. I know it's hard at first, but trust me, things will be better, and I only promise you that. As long as you have the ambition to make your life better, it's possible."

America shook his head, "What if I don't have the ambition to make my life better."

"I asked France the same thing when he first tried to help me." Canada smiled at the fond memories of France's care. The nostalgia melting him gleefully. Finally, he continued after having his moment, "He told me that there's always hope, and he even shared with me a few tricks to make myself feel better whenever I felt like my life was pointless."

America inquired, "What was one of the tricks he told you?"

Perfect! Canada's thoughts were full of triumph, I knew my words would get through to him somehow. Now he wants to learn how to get better! Canada began to speak, "One thing he told me to do whenever I felt upset was talk to someone close about how I was feeling. He said that it was only healthy to vent negative emotions, since bottling them up prevents your body from releasing toxins. Another thing he told me to do was to find a new hobby. One that could take my mind off my negative thoughts, or prevent them from coming. This last one might sound silly at first, but I found it very helpful."

Now America was extremely engaged with that conversation, nothing had felt so interesting to him for quite a while now. He urged Canada one, "What's the last tip?"

"Sunlight," Canada simply said, "Sunlight can definitely help rid someone of depression, and a deficiency of it is one of the most common causes of depression in the first place, especially when you live up north like I do."

America nodded, "Since this seemed to have worked for you, I think I'll try it out myself. Just one more question."

"What would that be?"

At first America wasn't sure if he should ask the question, but it eventually spilled out of his mouth before he could stop himself, "How did France find out that you were self harming?"

Canada stared at him for a moment, his expression becoming grim. Then he finally began, "It was during a world meeting. I was spending my time in the bathroom, since it felt like no one noticed my existence anyways, and I found it pointless to waste my time with the meeting. The bathroom seemed like the perfect place to release my pain, so I began to cut myself with the knife I smuggled. I kept on cutting, and cutting, and cutting. Each cut would become deeper. Until, I cut too deep. I tried to stop the bleeding, since I did still have the will to live, but it just wouldn't stop, and I eventually fainted from blood loss."

America was now on the verge of tears, "Canada, you almost died?"

Canada sighed, "Unfortunately, yes. Luckily, I'm a nation, and that's what allowed me to cling on for dear life. If I had been a human, I wouldn't have made it."

A look of guilt was plastered on Canada's face from the memory, but he continued, "Before I passed out, I saw a blurry figure approach me. After everything went black for a few moments, I woke up in the hospital. France was standing next to my bed, and I've never seen him look so worried in his life. His face was tear stained. He told me that I had been missing from the meeting for a long time, and wanted to check if I was okay. He was the one who saved me from bleeding out, and brought me to the hospital. I wanted to return the favor, so I promised him that I would stop cutting."

There was a long, silent pause. The story touched America, to him, it felt as if someone had stabbed his heart multiple times upon listening to the near death of his beloved brother. He couldn't help but let a few silent tears escape. Finally, Canada broke the silence, "We should both get to bed now. It's getting pretty late."

America nodded, sniffling as the last of the remaining tears faded from his face. When America climbed into his bed in one of the guest rooms, sleep seemed to be a chore for him. Eventually however, he finally managed to slip into a deep sleep. His dreams were peaceful, despite Canada's tragic story.