Epilog: The Calm after the storm

Canada's POV

I stood in silence as the sound of the gunshot radiated through my brain. I just couldn't believe it…he was dead…he was really dead. I felt like crying. I felt like screaming but it was no use…nothing was going to bring him back.

Why did he do it? I could have helped him? He was going to be alright… I could have saved him, I could have saved him, but he didn't let me. Why didn't he let me? Why did he have to die? Why did he have to leave me…DAMMIT WHY COULDN'T HE JUST LIVE!

I stabbed my sword into his chest with anger, tears now streaming down my face.

I had seen him, he had returned to me, he was my brother again, I saw it in his face, but now…now he was gone for good and there was nothing I could do. I cried, my sword still in him, I let all my tears and feelings I had felt for him out, and just cried.

My tears were interrupted by a sudden bright light that seemed to feel the space. I opened my eyes and saw that the source of the light was coming from his chest, the place where I had stabbed. One by one I saw as each soul, all of the ones that America had taken, floated to each body it beloved to. I turned to where the others were fighting. One by one each of the servants fell down and began to finally wake up, looking normal and as they once used to be, I saw as they all sit up as if they had all been waking up from a terrible dream. I turned my gaze back to America and found that there was one soul that had still not left to find its body, it was one last soul, floating there, and it was completely white. The purest untouched white that I have ever seen, it was beautiful.

It was true, deep down, underneath it all he was still the so pure and innocent, like the brother I have grown up with, I felt my eyes well up and even more tears fell. I watched in silence as it floated away, up to the sky, on its way to heaven. That was my brother's soul. There went my brother, gone forever. I was aware I still had my sword, and that I could fix this, I could bring him back it if I wanted, but I knew that I wouldn't.

It was best to just end it here.

Let the dead rest. I stood up and cleaned myself off and then walked towards the other, the sword still in my hand. I saw as loved one's hugged and they all celebrated, everyone was back to normal, everyone was alright, the world was happy again, well… not including me I suppose, I was still grieving, my brother may have been lost for almost a year now, but still, I was grieving.

I walked to England, the only other person who didn't seem to be celebrating. He was staring straight ahead, where I had just been standing, he was staring at America's dead body. His eyes look utterly heartbroken, but his face was beyond tears, his face was just blank, emotionless, he showed nothing.

"He's really gone isn't he," he asked me softly. I nodded and he just shook his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I just…I just still don't understand, why did this have to happen, why did any of this have to happen?" he asked. "I just don't understand, why him?"

"Because it was easy, he was so kind and innocent, I've seen his soul, so pure and innocent, it would be easy to corrupt him…it was easy to corrupt him, this…this wasn't him, I know it wasn't," I said. "He was controlled; he was controlled by someone who didn't know what they were doing… that's how this happened," I explained to him.

He shook his head. "But still…him…him… he was the best of all of us…and now he is just gone… I can't… I can't wrap my head around all of it, I have been trying for months now, trying to tell myself that it was him, that this was real, but… it still seems like…just a bad dream or something. He was…he was my best friend… my brother… my son… and… he did all of this… it… it just seems impossible." He said completely lost.

I think we all feel that way…we all knew him; we all knew what he was like and seeing him hurt others, it was so out there, we all knew it wasn't like him, we all told each other that we hated him, but the truth was we hated the thing that had changed him into this…monster, it was terrible, I think we are all saddened by America's death and happy that this monster is no longer here. Even while people celebrated they still felt a twinge of sadness, for the loss of a friend, a comrade, and hero.

England and I stood there, watching as everyone celebrated, cried and cheered, they could feel again, they could do things at their own will, and they were free, they didn't have to follow orders and they weren't empty anymore, their souls were all in the right bodies.

As the days and then weeks began to past people began to mourn the loss of a friend. We decided to build a monument to Alfred and put it in a place that was precious to him, Arlington National Cemetery, not too far from JFK's. There was some debate whether or not we should make him a memorial, of course Russia was against it, as well as Estonia and Latvia, but it was hard to tell if that was their true feelings.

China as seemed to protest a little but I think he later gave in. On one of my daily trips to Alfred's grave I found a Chinese paper lantern and a small little panda doll.

Also every month without fail Japan would go to America's grave and have his finest tea with him, when it was cold he even put blanket on Alfred's grave to keep him warm.

France also went there quite often, he liked to go there with a flower and a bottle of wine and just sit and tell America everything that was going on. We never really knew if he could hear us, we asked England and Norway if there was any way we could talk to them, but all they got back to us was that they could feel him but not locate or summon him. France believed that that meant he was still with us. He enjoyed going, he tried to at least do it once a week, and if he couldn't make it he would feel so overwhelmed with guilt and would go as soon as he could and even spend an extra hour or two with Al.

England was an everyday visitor. He cleaned up all the dead flowers left by others, and even replaced them. He also liked to talk to America. He went at the same time every day, even if he had to eat his lunch while he talked. He just told everyone that he was going to visit his son, no one tried to protest, they knew what it meant. England would bring pictures that he took of things happening in his life; sometimes he even brought a newspaper and read to him about all the important events happening in America. He even whet so far as to bring him a cake every year for his birthday and a plate of cookies for Christmas. He always bought the stuff he left for America, he never cooked, which said a lot. You could never break an Englishman's pride, England never wanted to believe that his cooking was bad, but he only wanted the best for Al, he wanted to apologize for everything that happened.

Other countries stopped by too, I saw Lithuania, Italy and Germany visit. I even think I saw Belarus sitting by his grave one day, by the time I got there however the girl I saw was gone.

To everyone's surprise Russia even visited, though he denied it. I always found half empty Vodka bottles by America's grave. At first I took it offensively, like Russia was littering or leaving his trash on my brother's grave, disgracing it, but when I spoke to Ukraine about it she told me that what he was doing wasn't too different from what France and England were doing, he would go to America's grave speak for a few minutes and split the bottle of vodka with America. Ukraine and Belarus asked to go with him when they heard he bought a ticket to America every few months, but he always said no. One day I even caught him at America's monument. He was sitting against America's taking swings at the bottle of Alcohol, and crying and just apologizing to him. I told nobody about this moment, I didn't want to ruin Russia's reputation. It was best to let him mourn in private.

It was nice to see all these countries mourn, especially after having such a private funeral for him. The only people who were informed of it were France, England and I. At the time were not sure how everyone else would react and we didn't want anyone angered with the events that happened to everyone to try and disgrace the image of America. The good, pure, kind hearted, hero America that we all wanted to remember, as far as England and France were concerned, the America who caused all these crimes was just someone else.

So together, the three of us mourned him; we had an open casket ceremony. It was amazing what the people who cleaned him up did. He looked… like him. Good him, the pure hero him, he looked like my brother. We each took a turn standing by him, talking to him, saying good bye,

Saying sorry.

When it came to my turn I was at a loss of words. I stood there and looked down.

"I…I don't know what to say. This...this just isn't right. This wasn't supposed to happen. I…I saw you…I saw in your eyes, I saw that were here, it was you…"I stopped realizing the anger was building up in me again. "Listen, you have always been the best brother I could have asked for, and…you were just taken away because of a mistake, someone else's mistake, but you know what, none of that matters to me, because no matter what you will always be my brother, the brother I looked up to and who would do anything to keep me save. Sometimes I got in trouble because of you but none of that mattered because I had a brother like you to hang out with, you made me forget my troubles and made me happy, no matter how hard I look I will never find anyone as amazing as you, I will never forget you. No matter what happened in the past you are always a hero. My heroic brother," I told him tears falling from my eyes; I leaned down and hugged him one last time. I held the jacket, his jacket, in my arms and then gently laid it on him and looked at him for the last time. The coffin closed and he was lowered in the ground and then his monument was placed right on top of it, the tombstone placed right over the coffin. We all just watched in silence.

One year after America's Death

I heard a knock on the door of my office before the door finally opened. I barely stopped typing to look up at England as he walked into the room.

"Did you find someone," I said pausing and looking up. He smiled.

"I believe so," he said. I nodded and kept typing. "Her name is Amelia Jones, ironic right, I was looking into her, she is the perfect image of Alfred and even has the last name, if we didn't find America hundreds of years ago I would have believe this girl could have been his sister. She is 18 and it won't take too look to give her the title of a nation. I just wanted to run her by you first. Nobody knows a child better then the men that raised it, France and I agreed that this was a perfect match…but you are his twin…so that would make you closer, we want you green light before we did anything," he said as he hand me her file.

I looked through it; it has pretty much a biography of her entire life, her personality and mental reasoning, how she felt about things like if she put her friends first or work and things like that. I chuckled; she was more of twin to Alfred than I was. I looked at her picture. She was as a cute girl, about 5'2, short blonde hair a bright smile, just like Alfred, but the thing that really decided it for me was her eyes, as blue and bright as the morning sky…my mind flashed back to America and his smile his eyes alight. This girl was just like him. I smiled and nodded. "She is perfect," I told him.

England smiled. "I thought so; there is just one last issue that needs to be dealt with. Her memories, we were simply going to insert all of Alfred's memories, but… France and I were not sure if we should include….the whole thing with the sword…just to keep it all from happening again…" England said.

I thought about it for a moment and then responded. "No, no, I will keep it from happening myself…just let her remember me as her brother and everyone else as her friends, don't make her remember everything that happened… don't make her live with that burden," I told him and he nodded.

"So you are sure, you are sure that you want this girl to live as your sister and take Alfred's place as a nation.

I nodded and smiled. "Yup, go tell her she is the new United States of America.

The End

Thank you all so much your continued support with this story, I never wanted it to end, but it just had to. I loved this story so much and I am so happy that you all loved it just as much as I did.

Around the beginning of the story I decided that America had to die, however with him being such a badass villain and hero all in one I thought it was only right that he ended it himself.

I thought I should explain the end a little bit. I thought a country could only die if the land and body of that country no longer exists. While America's body died his land still existed, England and France of course would stop anyone from claiming his land and with the land still being there they need a human representative for the land, and so they need a new America. Amelia Jones us Nyotalia America, I thought it fit nicely, but you can take then end however you would like.

Once again thank you guys so much you have all been amazing!~!