America sighed. He was on a boat tour with some of the other nations to view Lady Liberty. He was currently leaning on the railing, watching the statue coming closer. Every time he came here, he couldn't help but remember his original vision for his nation. And how he wished he could form the words that came so easily in his mind into spoken words to show the rest of the world how he truly felt about his views. But, he couldn't. Not that he hadn't tried, but he just wasn't as good with speaking as he was writing. He didn't know why, he just was. Maybe it was because he didn't think before he spoke.

Chuckling at the thought, he saw someone standing next to him. Looking up, he saw France standing next to him, viewing the statue with a smirk on his face.

"It is beautiful, non?" He asked. "Truly, one of my finer works."

"I can't argue with that." America said. "Thanks for giving it to me."

"It was my honor." France said with a shrug. "I wish the color hadn't changed. It did look quite beautiful when it was still in mint condition."

"I think the green color gives it more of a personality." America said with a smile. "I actually prefer it this way."

"You would." Snorted France. Looking back to the statue, he suddenly smirked. "Say, when do we see the tablet in her hands?"

"Uh, we should see it in about a minute." America said, giving France a questioning look. "How come?"

"Oh, no reason." France said with a chuckle. "If I may ask, what were you laughing at a few moments ago?"

"Oh, it wasn't anything important." America said with shrug. "I was just thinking if I could speak as well as I could write, maybe people would take me more seriously."

"Hmm, and what would make you think something like that?" France asked, giving America a curious look.

"Just this and that." America answered. France didn't reply, but studied the younger nation for a moment. Just then, they heard a hacking sound. Looking behind them, they saw England coughing up blood into his handkerchief, and Italy panicking beside him.

"NO! WHY ARE YOU COUGHING UP BLOOD?!" Italy shouted, looking around desperately to try to find someone to help him.

"That statue, It's a combination of that frog and America." England hissed angerly. "And it has the bloody day of his independence-" He hacked up another bit of blood at the word independence. "Bloody hell, how did I forget that?"

"Ah, I see why you wanted to know now." America said, raising an eyebrow. "You certainly like to see him suffer, don't you?"

"My dear boy, I think nothing of the sort." France said with a wink.

"Uh-huh." America replied.

"Still," France said, looking back at the statue in interest, "This statue means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

"If I gave you a truthful answer, it will just boost your ego." America said playfully.

"Ah, so it does." France smirked. "And for the record, it would not. It is no longer my statue. It was a gift to you, yes, but it was for you."

America thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, it means a lot to me."

"See, was that so hard?" France teased.

"I guess not." America said. France sighed, then looked at America with a warm smile.

"How do you feel when you look at it?" He asked.

"Huh?" America asked, blinking in surprise.

"When you look at her, how do you feel?" France asked, pointing at the Statue of Liberty.

America thought for a moment, then smiled. "I can't really describe it." He said thoughtfully. "When I look at it, I feel hopeful. Almost like I'm keeping a promise to an old friend."

"That is an interesting take." France said, nodding slowly. "Tell me, what is the main point of art?"

"To make you feel something." America said. "At least, that's what I think it's about."

"That is one of the main points of art." France said with a smile. "I remember when they used to talk about the American dream. The hope on the people's faces as they went off onto ships to try and make it to your shores."

America frowned in confusion, not knowing where France was going with this. France continued.

"They used to say that your streets were paved in gold. And they truly believed it. I used to scoff at such ideas. I thought that my citizens would come back to me, thinking that they had so much more back home." France sighed, then looked at America with a bittersweet smile. "But the ones who came back didn't come back by choice. They were sent back, unfit to enter the United States. And they were heartbroken. I couldn't understand why. Why were you so much more desirable than me?"

France sighed, then gave America an almost sad look. "What did I have to offer them? And to my disappointment, I finally came up with an answer. Not as much as you. You, who offered a fresh start, a new life, a way to start up new dreams, had things that I could never offer those who left. You offered them a future, while I tried to keep them in the past."

"But we both know that my roads were never paved in gold." America sighed. "I don't even know why that was a popular saying. All my roads were built by the people who came over. They made those roads. They were the ones who made something that wasn't even there before."

"And that is why they came to you." France said. "Even if your roads aren't built with gold, they are built with something far more valuable. They were built with a future in mind, a goal, a hope that someday, their families would have the future that they so desperately wanted. Even if they never got to enjoy it, that the future would be bright enough to make those roads look like gold."

America gave France a surprised look, making France chuckle. "You said it yourself." France pointed out. "They made something that wasn't even there before." And with that, France gave America a wink, and started to walk in the direction of England. "If you would excuse me, I need to help a certain English man." He said.

"Uh, yeah." America said. He looked back at the Statue with a frown. And as he looked, he remembered what was written at the base of the statue, placed there all those years ago.

"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Maybe he never had to find the words in the first place, because they had already been spoken.

A/N: Sorry to get up on the soap box on this one. But I realized that I never did a chapter on The Statue of Liberty. I'm sorry! I FAILED YOU AMERICA! Jk. But in all seriousness, the Statue of Liberty was one of the first things immigrants saw when they first came to the United States. To see such a sight, a beckon of hope for those who wanted a new life, must have been amazing. And does the American dream still hold up today? I like to think so. After all, our streets may not be made of gold, but they built with hope. (Again, sorry for the soap box.)