A/N: An entire overview of World War II. I got tired of happy stories so I decided to write something that would make people cry and hurt inside by hurting as many characters as possible. :)This first chapter is pretty easy going but has some blood in it.

I do not own Hetalia.

Chapter One: Crash
It was a typical morning for Alfred Jones, also known as the United States of America. He started his day off reading the morning newspaper and drinking some coffee with extra sugar. It was a cold December this year not that Alfred minded much. Despite the near constant cold he had from the stocks going south his people were doing fine for the most part. He was doing much better than some other countries if he did say so himself, even with the terribly low stocks. With his usual happy smile on his face Alfred tossed down the paper and went to get dressed for the meeting he was having that day with his brother.

December 9th, 1930 was the date at the top of the newspaper.

Alfred headed into New York City a bit later that morning, driving down the bustling streets with tall buildings towering around him on both sides of the road and jazz music flowing out of his car radio. He pulled up to his favorite café and hopped out of his car, heading inside and looking around the small diner until he spotted who he was looking for. Alfred smiled and sat down at a bar stool, removing the fedora from his head and smiling brightly "Hey there doll, what's shaking sweetie?" He asked teasingly.

"Oh haha, very funny Al" Matthew grumbled in his usual soft voice and rolled his eyes, giving his brother a slight shove.

The American laughed and wrapped an arm around his older twin's shoulder "Ah, you know I love you bro. Just can't help teasing you. Maybe if you cut your floozy French hair then I'd stop calling you a girl" He chuckled and ruffled the others longer blond hair.

Matthew smiled and moved away, swatting at Alfred's hand "There's nothing wrong with my hair Al. And don't call me a floozy"

"Whatever you say Mattie. So watcha feel like doing today? Thought we could catch a ballgame or maybe see a movie or something" Alfred suggested eagerly, grabbing his brother's coffee and taking a sip "Mmm, needs more sugar"

The Canadian sighed and took his coffee back "We're supposed to do business today Alfred, maybe next time. Not to mention you're still sick from-"

"Screw sick and screw business" Alfred cut in "We hardly get to have any fun together Mattie. We can do work tomorrow or something. Don't you love me anymore? Don't you wanna go have some fun with your favorite brother?" He asked, giving the other blond the best puppy dog eyes he could muster.

"Oh god not the puppy eyes Alfred" Matthew tried to look away but it was no use. No one could resist Alfred's hurt puppy dog look. He sighed in defeat "Well, we're going to get in trouble but-"

"Alright! Brother's day out!" Alfred cheered, tossing a few cents onto the counter to cover his brother's drink before grabbing the Canadian by his arm and pulling him out of the diner roughly "We're going to have the best day. I can't wait to show you all my favorite hang outs and then we can-" He cut off suddenly; freezing mid step and his face going deathly pale in a matter of seconds.

Matthew was instantly overcome with worry "A-Alfred? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"I-I don't feel so good Mattie" Alfred mumbled before he lurched forward and blood splattered against the concrete. A woman screamed next to them and Alfred fell to his knees gasping and wheezing as blood dribbled from his mouth, eyes wild with fear and body quivering.

"Alfred!" Matthew shouted and instantly fell to his knees next to his twin "Someone get help!" He snapped as a crowd started to form and he held Alfred's face between his hands, frightful violet-blue eyes meeting his brother's wide cerulean ones "Al? Talk to me Al, please! What's happening?"

The American took an unsteady breath and tried to speak but only more blood dribbled out from his lips. He clenched his teeth and forced out the word "B…Bank" before his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out in Matthew's arms.

"Al? Alfred!" Matthew shouted fruitlessly. Meanwhile, a few blocks away in the Bronx, a mob had formed around The Bank of America, demanding money that could not be given to them in a state of mass hysteria. Panic surged through the city and Alfred jolted in his unconscious state, letting out a slight scream as he was driven quickly to the nearest hospital with Matthew holding his hand tightly.

By the next morning Alfred's condition was getting worse, the entire line of The Bank of America closed and was out of money. By the New Year over six hundred banks had shut down in America and unemployment was sky rocketing across the states. Alfred was doing his best to try and push through the illness that plagued his being but he felt horribly weak. He hated feeling weak. He was the United States of America, he couldn't allow himself to be weak. Not after everything he had been through. Others depended on him and he had to be strong for them. It didn't take long though for more countries to start to crash too Matthew soon catching his brother's terrible sickness and more following.

"Ugh, is this how death feels?" Alfred groaned to himself as he lay in bed at his special room in the White House. He had been moved there from his usual home so his condition could be watched over and monitored if it got worse. Of course it wasn't like he was getting better any time soon with all the pain his country was going through. He had thought it had hurt during the civil war but this was a whole new feeling of pain. This wasn't like his people killing each other; no, this was his people having their lives ruined and losing everything they had as the days slowly rolled by. This was the feeling of lose and hopelessness. Every day homes were being reposed and people were living on the streets, children were orphaned and wandering the country and millions upon millions had no income. And Alfred could do nothing to help them. Was this the end?

Alfred clenched his teeth together defiantly. How dare he let himself think that way. No, it wouldn't end this way for him. He would not just roll over and wait for everything he worked so hard to create to collapse into utter nothingness. He was the America and he would be damned if he just lay there. With as much strength as he could muster Alfred slowly managed to get out of bed. He bathed and dressed before looking at himself in the mirror. He had lost a bit of weight and there were dark circles under his eyes but he still managed to put on the best smile he could muster as he walked out the door.

"Mister America, you shouldn't be up sir" A guard assigned to monitor Alfred said as the country walked past him down the hall "You should be resting"

"Resting's for the weak pally" Alfred chirped and continued walking, slipping his hat on and smiling brightly "Now if you excuse me I gotta make tracks and see a man about a dam. Tell the boss I'm heading to Arizona chief" He bid before starting to head outside. It was time for a little good old American hard work.

Gotta love America. He's such a cutie. And so is Canada. I love the North American Brothers. Matthew is the elder twin, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. What do you think? Good? Bad? Review please but no flames because I have low self-esteem and will cry. Seriously though, I will cry and never be heard of again.