"You're going to trust him again?" America questioned in disbelief.

"I'm surprised you take issue with McClellan," Lincoln responded, leaning back on his palms where he stood. "He's very cautious…doesn't rush into senseless battles."

"But he hesitates too much," America frowned. "He's prolonging this war needlessly…I just want it over with."

"As do I," Lincoln sighed, tilting his head back. "But we must use what tools we have. Let the man have another chance."

"Fine," America agreed hesitantly, gazing out his window as best he could with the distance. He pushed a finger up the bridge of his nose habitually, faltering when it didn't encounter the familiar metal frames.

He was so tired of this war. With all his heart, he hated it. Never before had he hated something so passionately as he did now. He'd give anything to end it all now, and go back to the days of Washington and Jefferson, before all these factions popped up. Before their ideal of America had mutated and split, a demented over grown dream.

He wanted it all to stop.

But his wishes were not answered. More destruction plagued his mind when he succumbed to sleep. Death, blood…such terrible faces. It had taken on a horrible quality of monotony. Perpetual terror and gore saturated the halls of his dream realm every time his heavy lids slid shut. And the voices were always there to great him when he awoke.

Yet fear was one of those things you could never truly grow used to. As much as you might expect it, it would always worsen and grow more terrible, just as you thought the worst was over. A deadly bacteria morphing just at the moment you thought you had found a cure.

"They got away," Lincoln informed him sullenly, weeks later. "Lee was thwarted, for the time being. But I've dismissed McClellan. Permanently, this time."

America stared at his legs, oddly sobered by the new development. Another chance to end this all, lost. He felt no urge to point at Lincoln and say he told him so. No urge to even do so in his head. It wasn't the man's fault. And he had enough to worry about these days, what with his sons…

For the life of him, he couldn't describe how he felt at that moment. Unhappy, of course. Disheartened, numb. But there was something else, something more. And hard as he thought, that something remained elusive.

"You're freeing them?" America looked up at Lincoln, who was busy scribbling away at a piece of paper on his desk.

"Only in the South," his president assured, as if America were opposed to the measure. "It will help raise chaos and stir matters up on the inside. The blacks will no doubt try and escape, now that they have the hope of freedom."

"Ah," America hummed pensively, not meeting Lincoln's gaze. He wasn't opposed to emancipation, personally, but…

"What do you think you're doing?"

"How can you be okay with this? He's trying to undermine us. Undermine you."

"They're our labor force…out lively hood."

"They're property…how can you even start to think they deserve this?"

"Would you take the rest of our livestock from us as well?"

"Traitor!"

"They won't be happy about it," America heard the words coming out of his mouth as if by their own will.

"What?" Lincoln looked up with full attention then, scanning his Nation's face. "You can't mean the Confederacy. They're the enemy."

"They're not," America shook his head, ignoring the voices in his head, building up in support of his words. "They're me."

"You're the United States," Lincoln reasoned, surprise clear in his voice. "They seceded, they left…they're no longer part of you."

"They are," the blond insisted, his voice sounding so frantic, so passionate that even he was taken aback. "They're still my people. I never abandoned them. The Union and Confederacy…are both me."

A silence passed, Lincoln staring at America with a mixture of disbelief and profound…pity? His voice was low and sympathetic when he finally spoke. "No wonder this has been tearing you up to such a degree. I never even stopped to consider that you might not think of them as foes. There isn't an enemy to you."

"Right," America let the word hang on the air, the voices in his mind once again breaking forth.

"That's right, we aren't bad…"

"We're not enemies."

"We're you."

"You're both sides. You wouldn't pick a side."

"That wouldn't be right."

"Unfair."

And then a different voice. "You and I both know that's impossible." Pierce's voice, he realized with a jolt. It seemed ages since the other man had been office. Such a different time that he felt incredibly detached from.

"In a conflict that involves you, you have to pick a side. You can't support both ends, or else you'll be torn in two when they both start fighting. Think logically."

"America?" Lincoln's concerned call brought him back to reality.

Something was tickling his cheek, he realized, and made to brush at it. Wet. His eyes were wet.

"America, I'm sorry," Lincoln was apologizing, walking over to him, brow wrinkled. "I should have thought it through more thoroughly. I just assumed…" He broke off, for once not knowing what else to say.

"I can't pick between them," America managed to whisper, past the growing lump in his throat. "I can't chose."

The tears began to fall.

Historical Notes: McClellan was in striking distance of Richmond, in an impregnable position with 86,000 soldiers ready to fight. Lee had sustained heavy losses and gained little ground. But Lincoln, fed up with McClellan's hesitance, put him under the command of General Henry W. Halleck, who called off the Peninsula campaign and had McClellan head back to join General John Pope, who was gathering a new army between Washington and Richmond.

As soon as Halleck pulled the troops back, Lee marched rapidly north, attacking Pope's troops on the same ground of Bull Run late in August. Dismayed, Lincoln turned back to McClellan. "We must use what tools we have," he told his secretary. While McClellan regrouped the shaken troops, Lee headed northwest around the defenses of Washington. He realized that the only way the Confederacy could win was a dramatic blow on Northern soil to break Union moral. If the battles were prolonged, the South would eventually succumb to the materially superior North.

Lee divided his army of 60,000 into a number of units. One, under Stonewall Jackson, captured more than 11,000 prisoners at Harpers Ferry. Another pressed North, almost to Pennsylvania. McClellan prepared to attack, until—assured by his capture of a Confederate message of Lee's disposition—he gained confidence and speed. September 17th at Sharpsburg, Maryland—between the Potomac and Antietam Creek—he forced Lee into a fight. 70,000 Union soldiers clashed with 40,000 Confederates, Lee's troops having little room to maneuver. At the end of the day, more than 22,000 were dead or wounded.

Causalities were evenly divided and Confederate lines remained intact, but Lee's position was untenable, his men exhausted. McClellan had not yet thrown in his reserves, and new federal units arrived by the hour. But McClellan did not attack, holding his ground an entire day while Lee looked for a route of escape. During the night, the Confederates slipped away. Lee's invasion had failed, his army heavily damaged, but he was soon back in Richmond, rebuilding his force. Once again—and finally—Lincoln dismissed McClellan from his command.

Willie, one of Lincoln's remaining sons (his brother Eddie died ten months earlier), became ill in early 1862, after riding his pony in bad weather. His condition fluctuated from day to day, most likely typhoid fever from contaminated drinking water. Gradually Willie weakened, both parents spent much time at his bedside. He died February 20, 1862. Abraham said, "My poor boy. He was too good for this earth. God has called him home. I know that he is much better off in heaven, but then we loved him so. It is hard, hard to have him die!"

Lincoln initially hesitated to free the slaves because he feared it would cause divisions and alienate the Border States. Eventually, he freed all the slaves of the Confederacy in the Emancipation Proclamation, after the "victory" at Antietam, justifying it as a war tactic. Even Abolitionists often disliked blacks, and feared an inundation of them in the North as more were freed. The policy of "containment" quelled this fear. Miscegenation—mingling of whites and blacks as the "consequence" of black freedom—was a worry for many.

When military volunteering fell off, Congress passed a conscription act on men between 20 and 45. The hiring of substitutes and an exemption price of $300 were allowed. Similar to the South's policy, this favored the rich over the poor, and demonstrated the increased power of congress. They could, in theory, control the "life or death" of a citizen, since the casualty rate was so high.

In New York City, 1863, rioters—mostly poor Irish—began torching the city in response to conscription. It took temporary conscriptions suspension and federal troops to regain order. Over 100 lives were lost. People were more afraid of change than hateful of blacks. Most people retained their discriminatory views of blacks, but many were changing. Charities raised over $40,000 for victims of the riots and some conservatives were so appalled by the Irish rioters that they began to talk of giving blacks the vote.

The Emancipation Proclamation, while not truly freeing blacks as it is commonly believed, offered hope for improvement. Lincoln, although slightly racist himself, was admired and trusted by many blacks. Slaves would flock to Union lines when troops arrived. Southerners were upset by the "ungratefulness" of their slaves.

The 1792 law prohibiting black enlistment was repealed in the Emancipation Proclamation. Blacks were eager to join and the Union needed troops. Although they were paid only half of what whites were, they soon proved their worth. Many were killed due to Southern fury at their actions. Captured blacks were often killed.

So, with the end of the year approaching, I will be having to give my book back (unless I decide to "lose" it, but that could get pricy). I'm going to try and keep updates regular, but will also be putting a good portion of my time into typing up the notes I need, so that I'll have those as the story can always be worked on over the summer. I finished reading my book today. It was an epic read…and I wish there was a sequel. Darn time paradoxes that would create…

just another fma fan: For all my book's random useless information, it did not mention Lincoln's sons D: That's terrible.

I applied for AP European History…but that class never runs since our school never has enough students wanting to take it. Next year is no exception - -' But American History is still cool! I loathed it until this year…because of pioneers. Don't ask. But my opinion has been completely altered (though I still don't like pioneers). I only wish I had Hetalia back in all my World History courses…

And the note on the dream :D That's wicked. I had an inane amount of bizarre dreams over break…but a disappointing lack of Hetalia-ness. It was unfortunate.

Thank you for the review(s) ^^