When the U.S. was created, it was based upon the idea of freedom. Freedom for everyone, no matter who they were. Anyone had the chance to be happy, regardless of race, religion, gender, of wealth. America always held on to this, even when the vast majority of his people did not. And when his people forgot what their country stood for, he made it his duty to remind them. There were times when his efforts were in vain. No amount of pleading on his part would stop Jackson from sending thousands of Native Americans to their death. It took an attempted secession and a bloody, self-decimating war to end slavery. If any human had experienced everything that America had, they would wonder how he managed to live, let alone continue to uphold his values. The truth was, America got through it by ignoring the troubles of his past. All of his memories of darkness and sorrow were pushed into the back of his mind or stowed away inside of his storage room. This method of forgetting his problems was not always the healthiest way of dealing with life, but America did it nonetheless. But America was not only a Nation, he was an optimist. He never gave up and he always looked towards the successes of his people before anything else. He was a frontrunner in his people's strive for equality and nothing made him more happy than to know that everyone had the freedom that they deserved.

In the years following his aviation training, flying became America's favorite thing to do, and he would be damned if anyone in his country would be banned from partaking in what he believed to be the most amazing experience known to man. He shook hands with the Tuskegee Airmen and worked with Jacqueline Cochran. After meeting a group of paraplegic pilots in California, he convinced the other Nations to help him establish the International Wheelchair Aviators group. For a many years, nearly all of America's free time went into aviation. It was through this involvement that America was introduced to a human who went on to become one of his closest friends.

Amelia Earheart was clever, funny, brave, and almost everything America wanted to see in another person. She, like America, refused to allow things such as race and gender hinder her life, and he admired her for it. As she dominated the media and became a national symbol of women pilots, America's enamoration with her increased. . They worked together on nearly all of her planned flights and he was alway the first to congratulate her on her success. America honestly believed that she was perfect, and could do no wrong.

In 1937, everything America thought he knew about Amelia Earheart came crashing down. She was on her way to a remote island in the Pacific in an effort to fly around the world. She never arrived. America panicked. He made dozens of calls and sent out a search party in a desperate attempt to find her. They searched for two years putting all available resources towards finding the aviatrix before declaring her dead. America didn't like giving up. It made him feel helpless in a way that he hadn't felt since his days as a colony. For once, he couldn't look on the bright side.

America took his brother to the funeral. This was Canada's first clue that things were not going well. It wasn't uncommon for countries to mourn their human friends, but they normally dealt with it privately. Canada also noticed America's unusual silence, and how he frequently got lost in thought. Whenever Canada pressed America to open up, he would brush him off. Soon, the northern nation decided that he would have to bring in the big guns.

AVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVA

*All dialogue is in French

1939

"France, please," Canada pleaded, "He's not himself. You're the only one who can talk to him."

"What business of mine is it to comfort America because one of his citizens died. We all have to learn how to move on from these things, no matter how much it hurts," France replied, trailing off a bit at the last part.

"Yeah, I know, "Canada said, "but she didn't just die, she disappeared, and he looked and looked, and... well, he's not doing well."

"Wait a minute, she? This is about a lady? Why didn't you say so sooner? This is now a matter of love, and as the country of love, it is now my personal duty to help America mend his broken heart. I must hurry off!" France threw his best clothes into a suitcase.

"Do not warry, Canada! Big brother France has got it all under control! Also, that Quebecois shit that you call French is terrible. Goodbye!" France stormed out of his house leaving a bewildered, but slightly relieved Canada in his midst.

AVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVA

America was sitting quietly in his living room when he heard a knock on the door. Not really caring who it would be, he opened it. France waltzed in and set down his suitcase before hurrying into the kitchen. America slowly followed him.

"I heard you were having a hard time dealing with your loss," France said, rummaging through America's pantry.

"How did you know that?" America grumbled.

"My god!" France exclaimed, ignoring the question, " Do you have anything besides condiments in here?"

"I've got eggs in the icebox," America answered. France took out the carton as well as a bowl and frying pan. He cracked several eggs into the bowl and began whisking them before turning towards America, who was sitting at the kitchen table.

"I understand what you are going through, " he said with a sad smile, "It is hard for people like us to form relationships with people like them. Trust me, I know. Can you tell me what she was like."

"God, where do I begin." America smiled. "Amelia Earheart was amazing. She was so smart and brave. She never took crap from anyone. She was a role model for all of the little kids in my place. She was everything I stand for..."

"Did you love her?" France asked abruptly.

"What? No! Of course not. I mean, she was married..."

"That does not matter," France laughed," The heart wants what the heart wants. Now I am going to ask you again, did you love her?"

"Uh, god, I don't know!" America rubbed the back of his neck. "I think, maybe."

France poured the eggs into the pan. "America, do you want to know what I think."

After a moment's hesitation, America nodded his head.

"I think that you are wrong."

America was confused. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think that you actually loved her."

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm sure she was a very nice lady, and I'm sure that you were friends with her, but I don't think you loved her. I think you loved the idea of her."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"The way you talk about her, the way you say her full name and go on about her like she was the embodiment of your beliefs, that makes me think that you built her up to be something greater than she was. Like I said before, I'm sure that she was smart and brave and a good role model, but I don't think that she was everything you stand for. You forget, the humans are not like us. They do not represent values and beliefs. They can support them, but they are not them. And, most importantly, humans die." France finished the omelette, cut it in half, and gave one to America as he sat down. Both nations wiped tears from their eyes.

"It is one of the hardest things about being who we are," France continued, "We are not the same as the humans that we bond with."

"Well you know what," America said with sudden anger, "That sucks! It fucking sucks! I didn't ask for this, and neither did you! Nobody did! Why do we have to live in a world where everyone dies but us and we have to sit back and watch it all happen and do nothing about it!"

"Yes, I agree," France replied calmly, "It does suck. It's awful, and nobody knows why it's like this, but it is and we can't change that."

America sighed and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. But I wish it was different sometimes. I wish we were different."

"So do I," France admitted, "but the best part about it is that even though humans like your Amelia or my Jeanne cannot live to pass on their message, we can. You said that this woman was everything that you stood for, but you were wrong. You are everything that she stood for. If you really care about her, you would take this duty seriously."

"Did you think of that just now?" America asked with a sheepish smile.

"No," France said with a small chuckle, "That is something I have been thinking about for a long time."

"Well, it's really nice. Thank you."

"I am glad you think so. Now where is the nearest market? If I'm going to spend some time here, I need to be able to cook some decent food."

"Wait, how long are you staying?"

"No more than a week. I have to make sure you heart is completely mended so you can fight in case another war breaks out. Now tell me where I can buy groceries."

"What? We talked about this, I'm not going to get involved again."

"Fine. If you will not tell me, I will find it myself." France strutted to the front door. "By the way, that Creole shit that you call French is even worse than Canada's. Goodbye!" He flipped open the door and rushed out.

America shook his head before smiling. For the first time in a long while he felt hopeful. And it was nice.

Author's note:

History time! For when you parents say that fanfiction is not educational.

First off, I made a reference to the Trail of Tears in which thousands of Native Americans were forced to move west by president Andrew Jackson, a mean, scary man who probably liked to kick puppies. I also mentioned the American Civil War between the pro-slavery south and the anti-slavery north.

The Tuskegee Airmen were a group of WW2-era African-American pilots. Jacqueline Cochran was an influential lady pilot, and the IWA is exactly what it says on the can.

Word of god says that France refuses to learn English, so Canada and America have to resort to their Quebecois and Cajun roots respectively in order to communicate. The trouble is, both versions are kinda wonky, so both are ridiculed by France. (If you asked me though, I would say that he picked up enough English to know when England is being made fun of.)

I hope you are enjoying it so far! Please comment!