Author's Note- Hey everyone. Welcome to this week's chapter. But before I start, I need to give a few shout outs. First a huge thank you to Pruhana and the amazing job she does betaing the chapter each week. Also a thank you to Missnoodlechan, Hurricaneclaw, The Riptide Writer, America96, Cutter-Blizard, and Oniongrass for taking the time to leave a review.

Disclaimer- I own an Easter Hat…unfortunately that still doesn't mean that I can claim Hetalia as my own.

Chapter 6- Miracles

Easter Sunday, a holiday usually celebrated with ornate hats, crowded church services and elaborate meals. This Easter was proving different. Today as the sun dawned, two nations were still holding their breaths. In British Columbia, the Canadian Army was still sieving through the debris of flooded homes looking for the bodies of the tsunami's victims. In Alaska, all four branches of the American military were racing against the elements to clear rail lines, harbors, airstrips and roads.

As new communities along the Gulf of Alaska were reached, they provided more stories of the horrors that had befallen them. Soon the newspapers were filled with stories of the waves swallowing villages leaving one or two structures standing, and images of boats sitting among the wreckage of business buildings. But the stories that seemed to speak to America were about the town of Seward.

Clinging to the western side of a glacial-carved fjord, Seward was the unofficial entrance to the interior of Alaska. During the summer months, it was not unusual to see large cargo containers, an oil tanker, and the state ferry at the docks at the same time. On a lucky day, you might even spot a submarine trawling the depths of Resurrection Bay. Each winter when the water around Anchorage froze, Seward, a hundred miles south, only got busier as it received most of the shipping bound for the State of Alaska.

But while Seward was vitally important to the economy of Alaska, it was not the reason the city was currently captivating America. No that was because of an award. The All American City award was given to fifteen towns and cities that best displayed the spirit of America. In December, Seward had been given that award and town had been preparing to celebrate the win when the earthquake and tsunami had wrecked their community. Now the outside world was forced to confront the question of that if a town which represented the very best of American social values and innovation could so easily be destroyed, what did that say about the possible disasters that their own cities faced?

Due to Seward's high profile position, it was only a matter of time, and not much of it, before the entire nation knew that the harbor was gone and there was floating raffs of oil on the bay. Across America people learned about the U.S. soldiers that had run to high ground in front of the land bound tsunami, grabbing every young child on they saw, and carrying them to safety. They also heard about the plight of the National Guard Unit from Seward who had been training in Anchorage when the earthquake hit. Now HAM radio operators were avidly following the progress of the men as they dug a slit through hundreds of avalanches and landslides that blocked the only road home.

"I don't think I can just stand back and do nothing…" Pennsylvania sat staring at the radio in a state of almost shock. After all Oil City, Pennsylvania had also been preparing to celebrate the fact they had been named an All America City.

"It is not like you are in a position to do anything." New Jersey commented almost coldly.

"We are going to send them donations." Pennsylvania said softly, and mostly to himself.

"Of what?" New Jersey replied sarcasm dripping from their voice.

"I don't think it really matters what is sent, as long as it is useful." Pennsylvania shrugged as he grabbed his coat and started to spread the word.

It had been less than forty-eight hours since the massive earthquake had hit Alaska, but it felt like a lifetime. Massachusetts had been in constant motion since he landed in Anchorage. He had gone inspecting the hospitals, he had helped the soldiers dig through the rubble of downtown looking for trapped people, he had bandaged hundreds of cuts and scrapes. And still there were thousands of little tasks that still need to be done.

Even in the early hours of the morning the people of Alaska seemed to take the overwhelming task of survival in stride. From the half collapsed cement wall that Massachusetts sat on outside the temporary military hospital, he could feel the rumble of heavy equipment tearing down the buildings that were on the verge of collapse, he could smell the bread baking in the commissary kitchens, and hear the sound of men tirelessly repairing aircraft that were left crippled when parts of the hanger roof collapsed. It left the state with the question whether these people found time to sleep.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Massachusetts looked up and saw Lt Morris coming over with two mugs of lukewarm coffee. The military man handed a cup to the exhausted state and settled himself on the low wall of rubble that Massachusetts was perched on.

"Don't know if they are worth that much." Massachusetts said as he gingerly took a sip of the black liquid. "Honestly I was just wondering when anyone found time to sleep around here. I haven't been working nearly as hard as many of these men and I am already completely drained."

"Maybe I should drag you home and force you to crash on my couch?" Lt. Morris gave a soft chuckle. "I am sure that Melinda would not complain if I took home a stray or two."

"Melinda?"

"The most beautiful woman in the world, and the girl consented to be my wife and bear our three children." Lt. Morris smiled fondly into his mug.

"Sounds like she got the short end of the stick." Massachusetts did his best to keep a straight face as he took another sip from his now cold coffee.

"You don't know the half of it." This time the Lieutenant gave a full bellied laugh, but then he gave the state a good look. "But really, come stay the night at my place. I was lucky, while my house is a mess it is still standing."

"Are you sure that it won't be a bother?"

"Of course it will be a bother." Lt. Morris said with a smile. "But honestly, this whole earthquake has been such a bother that we will barely notice."

"Oh." Massachusetts murmured quietly. "I guess I can take you up on that then, as long as you let me repay you for the stay."

"Then that's settled. You are coming to my place for a few hours of shuteye. Then you can have a hot meal and help clean up the suburbs a bit before you come back here." Lt. Morris rose to his feet and offered Massachusetts a hand.

"Thanks Lieutenant." Massachusetts said as he let the officer pull him to his feet.

"No problem, and stop calling me Lieutenant. You are a guest in my home."

"Thanks Harold." Massachusetts said his mind already savoring the thought of a soft bed and the possibility of clean sheets.

At the Royal Canadian Naval Yard in Esquimalt, the base commander had arranged for Canada to take over a small office overlooking the harbor. From that vantage point the nation could easily see the first touches of pink in the sky. This was a clear indication that, Canada had spent the entire night seated at his desk staring at the sea, instead of sleeping in a bed.

"Yes, thank very much for that information. I will pass it on to Mr. Williams immediately." Ontario's clipped accent sounded muffled through the wall that separated their offices. "Thank you again."

As Canada watched the first slivers of dawn appear on the bleak horizon he heard Ontario take a few unsteady breaths to steady himself before Canada heard the clatter of the tea kettle on a tea tray. There was the sound of footsteps and then a soft knock at the door.

"Come in." Canada called. The sight tear tracks across his province's face quickly drew his attention. "Thomas, what is going on? What is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong?" Ontario spoke the edges of his lips quivering.

"Then why are you crying?"

"Mathew…Canada, that was the official report on the number of people affected by the tsunami in British Columbia." At Ontario's words Canada felt himself tense up, but then his province face broke into a massive smile. "There have been injuries but no one is missing."

"What?" Canada asked in shock, unable to fully comprehend what had just been said.

"Everyone is accounted for. I don't know how, but somehow everyone lived through it."

Five hours of sleep was not nearly enough, but it was difficult to sleep through an aftershock when it tosses you out of bed. It also didn't help that entire house was currently tilted sideways by five degrees which caused Massachusetts to roll down the sloping floor into an upturned bookshelf. For a few moments Massachusetts considered just grabbing the quilt from the bed and going back to sleep on the floor. Unfortunately the bed was beyond reach and there was a book currently poking him in the ribs.

Tossing the offending volume of 'The Phantom Tollbooth' onto the bed, Massachusetts slowly got to his feet and put on his coat to combat the chilly air. He quietly folded the blanket and sheets, placing them on the corner of the bed. He tried to quietly open the door to the room, but found it to be jammed shut. After a good three minutes of ramming his shoulder against the wood he finally got the door to swing open. He also suspected that his shoulder would also be sporting a set of severe bruises for his trouble.

The hallway to the living room was narrow and dark, which wasn't that big of a surprise. There were rumors that Whittier already had their power plant up, but for now Anchorage was still without electricity. There many generators in town, but they were all being used by the military, hospitals, or state and city government. Luckily most Alaskans had at least one or two additional sources of heat. Mrs. Morris was currently using the little potbelly stove in the living room to cook… Massachusetts didn't have any clue what the meal was, and at this point he really didn't care. Whatever Mrs. Morris was making smelled good and he was surprisingly hungry.

"Why, aren't you just like a soldier?" Melinda remarked with a soft southern drawl as he entered the room. She handed him a thick steak on a chipped plate, which Massachusetts took with both hands.

"I don't know what you mean ma'am."

"What I meant is that you have a natural ability of find the kitchen whenever there is food on." The housewife smiled. "That was how Howard and I met, you know. I came up here to help man a concession counter on the Alaskan Highway one year, and Howard being the young solider that he was always knew exactly when the pies were coming out of the oven." She nodded her head towards the steak even as she put another on the stove. "Dig in."

Massachusetts didn't need any other encouragement to start eating but he did his best to keep up the conversation between bites. "So do you eat steak for breakfast very often?"

"Oh no." Melinda chuckled. "It is just that without power, our icebox isn't working. While it is cold enough outside to keep the frozen goods frozen for some time, weather this time of year is rather unpredictable. I figured the wisest thing to do was to cook the perishable goods and use it to feed the neighborhood."

"Where is everyone else eating?" Massachusetts asked, his mouth half full of meat.

"Wherever they can. There are several soup kitchens that have been set up around town and apparently the military has been issuing military rations to some of the outlying communities." Melinda said quietly as she wiped her fingers on her apron. "You are probably wondering why my family isn't taking advantage of those resources? Well it is because we were lucky. My family has everything that we need and I am not going to take resources away from those who have lost everything…and honestly, who would want to eat those military rations anyway."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Massachusetts said somberly. "By the way, has Harold gotten up yet?"

"Oh yes, he left a few hours ago." Melinda cocked her head to one side a twinkle in her eye. "Apparently all of the girl scouts in town have been enlisted as nursing aids and there is an unofficial competition going on to see if the regular staff or the scouts can put in the most hours. It must be getting pretty heated because Howard muttered something about 'not going to be beaten by some girl scout' when he walked out the door this morning."

"I may not have known him long, but that sounds like Harold." Massachusetts admitted. "We made a deal. He would give me a place to sleep and I would help clean up around the house. With Harold already at the hospital, I guess you get to pick what you want cleaned."

"There is one thing…"

Before Massachusetts knew it, he was helping to stuff two very rambunctious, three year old boys into their Sunday best while trying to wash the remains of breakfast off of their faces.

Pennsylvania was standing on the edge of a semitrailer in Oil City amazed at the turn out. It was pretty clear that the citizens were truly concerned about the well being of their sister city. By nine AM they came, baring plies of used clothing and well-loved stuffed animals, heavy blankets and cans of summer tomatoes. Someone even brought a washing machine. It was quickly becoming clear that if donations continued to pour in at this rate, they were going to need a much bigger truck.

The base chapel was just under a mile from the Morris's home. It was a reasonable walk but by the end of it Massachusetts found himself carrying the Morris's eight year old daughter so she wouldn't get her dress dirty in the dirty slush that had formed on the roads. The little church on base wasn't in pristine condition; in fact, it still looked like it was in shambles. Some of the windows were broken, there was plaster powder all across the seats, and the steeple had collapsed. Still, it did not prevent people from praying in it.

It only took a few minutes for Melinda to get her three children seated in a row on one of the cleaner pews. She was about to take her own seat by the wall when she turned and saw Massachusetts still standing in the aisle. Her cheeks suddenly flushed pink.

"I am sorry I probably should have asked if you were a Christian before dragging you to church." Melinda apologized embarrassed.

"No worries." Massachusetts shrugged her off. "Honestly, I always thought of myself as an agnostic. I do have to admit this is one of those times when prayer looks good."

Massachusetts took the seat by the aisle and started to play with the twin boys to keep them quiet until the sermon started. It didn't take long. In less than five minutes, the army chaplain stood in the front of the room and started to speak.

"We gather here, people of many faiths, of many backgrounds. Some of you have lived in Anchorage for your entire lives; others are aid of workers who have only been in Alaska for a few hours. Regardless of your history, you have not only been touched by the terror of the earthquake that racked our state two days ago, but you have also been able to see the extraordinary virtues of the human race." The chaplain said his voice tired but still strong. "At this holiday celebrating the resurrection of our Lord nearly two thousand years ago, we are now faced with an dilemma will we let this tragedy consume our beloved Alaska or will we choose to learn from this experience and build an Alaska that is even better."

There was a lot of amens to the chaplain's sermon then the group sang a few hymns about hope, graces, and resurrection. Then the meeting ended and the parishioners dispersed back to their assigned tasks. On the way out of the building Massachusetts caught Melinda's attention.

"Are you sure that you will not need help getting home?"

"No, I think I have it under control." Melinda gave him a soft, tired smile as she looked lovingly down at her children. "Keep up your work, and know that you are in our prayers."

Massachusetts took a few moments to look fondly at the family as they walked towards home, before he turned and began to walk towards the military hospital. There was still a lot of work to be done, but Massachusetts had no doubt that these Alaskans were up to the challenge.

Canada had experienced a miracle. There was simply no other way of putting it. The largest tidal wave in Canada's recorded history had swept into towns of Prince Rupert, Tofino, Hot Springs Cove, Zeballos, Amai, Alberni, and Port Alberni causing millions of dollars of damaged but not a single Canadian life had been lost. Just over four hundred families were caught sleeping when seawater had flooded them, yet every citizen was safe and accounted for. Even though a large percentage of some communities had lost everything and were now sheltered in school gymnasiums and army tents, there was an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

It was true that feeling of relief was tempered by the fact that there were countless confirmed deaths in Alaska, California, and Oregon. Still, there was one person in the world that Canada wanted to share this wonderful news with. The phone for the US State Department rang for nearly a minute before a secretary picked up the phone.

"This is the United States of America State Department. May I ask who is speaking?"The secretary on the other end droned.

"Hello, this is Mathew Williams, can you please connect me to Alfred Jones?"

"I am sorry Mr. Williams."This time the secretary sounded a bit apologetic."Unfortunately Mr. Jones is unavailable at the moment."

"When will he become available?" Canada asked politely, assuming that his brother must be currently in a meeting with his boss or something. It soon became apparent that the situation was much more worrisome.

"I am sorry, but I do not know that information, but it will probably be sometime as his current whereabouts are listed as Bethesda Naval Hospital…in the ICU…"

Historical Note- The Seward Highway, which is made of Alaska Route 1 and 8, is considered to be one of the most important roads in the state. It is approximately 125 miles (200 km) long and cuts through the interior of the Kenai Peninsula. The role of the Seward highway was to provide an addition route to bring goods from one of Alaska's largest warm water port to the people living in the interior of the state, a role which the road still plays today.

At the time of the Good Friday Earthquake, the Seward Highway was only twelve years old but it was so essential to Alaskan commerce that several communities had sprung up a long its course. All of these communities were severely damaged by the earthquake and were isolated from the rest of the state. In order to connect these communities with the rest of the world, the Alaskan National guard was enlisted to help clear the road.

It was a daunting task. The Seward Highway covered with hundreds of avalanches, rock, and mudslides, as well as split by deep fishers. To make things worse every bridge between Anchorage and Seward had been torn out of the ground. In a fight for time, the military used snow to pack the fishers and carved slits in the slides. Many of these slits were just large enough to allow the convoy to pass through. In many cases it was so narrow that a trucks side view mirrors would scrape along both sides.

End Note- The plot thickens…so if you are enjoying the story so far, let me know and get a preview of the next chapter.

Next Week's Chapter- Nightmares- After an emergency call from Canada, England gets on the first flight bound for Washington D.C. When he arrives he discovered that America is stubbornly refusing treatment. Massachusetts leaves the relative safety of Anchorage for the epicenter of destruction…Valdez.