Long break, huh? My other stories were a bit more pressing, and I'm trying to finish Devour before I get into the bulk of this story, so forgive me! We're starting slow anyway, right?! I actually tweaked it a bit, and I'm changing this to a nation story. I was going to make them human, and play a little more into history, but I already did that with this fandom twice now, and I'd like to try my hand at writing them as the nations they are in Hetalia. So, lemme give this love real quick… Quiet. Crash, yes, they will suffer. You know me too well! fiothepanda, I'm glad! I love war themes too, oddly enough, haha. I'm not sure how long this story will be, since I'm aiming to make the chapters longer, and the number of chapters shorter, but I doubt it will exceed seven or more chapters. Alright, let's move into the plot, shall we? On with the story!

The Declaration

"Meeting Franklin Roosevelt was like opening your first bottle of champagne; knowing him was like drinking it." – Winston Churchill

There was the usual stuffiness in the air.

Each of them were going about their business, stating their current positions in their own separate battles, and most of all, acting as if they liked each other, because they were allied. Yes, the first Great War had been trifling, and it had felt as hopeless as this one was beginning to feel, but there was a difference in the nature of the motive this time. Germany was beyond pissed off, and rightly so, due to the incredulous demands of The Treaty of Versailles, and so this was not just about domination. Indeed, this was about revenge.

England had thought the entire treaty much too rough of Germany at the time, but the initial key seemed to be to keep him down, and prevent a future crisis, so of course he signed it, hoping that would be the end of the entire ordeal. He did not take the same sick pleasure France took in humiliating the brawny nation, but he had hoped being made into a fool would at least teach a small lesson. Alas, the very scenario the treaty was meant to prevent was happening, and the document had done nothing but add fuel to the flames. Now, all of Europe was on the chopping block, and their ideas were running low. Despite all of the efforts in the Great War- the war that was meant to end all wars- it seemed even past alliances were not going to prove helpful this time.

Russia was helping simply because Germany had invaded him, and it had proved in his best interest to join the Allied cause…at the time. China had only recently joined. He had already been at war with Japan, and after the most recent attack, had also thought it best to join. America… Ah, that was another story.

America, too, had felt the treaty took things too far, and had promptly refused to sign the document. He had explained his view on the topic, stating he and his citizens would simply remain isolationist, and would rather not get re-involved in foreign affairs. He had said the treaty would only point Germany's loaded guns at him, and drag him into further conflicts he had no business in. After all, he had only gotten involved in the first war because his own citizens were killed in Germany's attack on the British ocean liner RMS Lusitania.

Still, England had hoped going to his former colony and asking for assistance in another potential Great War would show America just how bad off things were on his end. As prideful as he was, England never asked for help, and certainly if given a choice, he would not ask his former charge. Certainly, America looked shaken by the act, but his stance was the same. There was a state of unrest in his country about getting involved, and the main consensus seemed to be remaining neutral.

"Not to mention," he had added shakily after meeting England's icy glare, "I'm not leaving you hanging. I will send you what I can, but I will not be sending troops."

Yes, that statement had made the outlook on the war bleak for Great Britain, because he was losing more than he had to give already, and Germany was bombing him mercilessly. At that point, he wasn't sure what the outcome would be, but he knew it wouldn't be good.

Then, along came Japan, who decided to take it upon himself to attack America despite his neutrality. None of them had seen it coming, quite honestly, and England was still certain Japan hadn't expected the repercussions that followed. Both he and America had declared war on him less than two days after it happened, and three days later, Germany and Italy had declared war on the once-neutral United States. This had been the attack that pushed China to join the Allies, and this meeting was to brief everyone on the war effort, including America- who still wasn't there.

It was…unusual to say the least. England had been with him when they declared war on Japan together, but they hadn't exchanged words over the topic. What was there to be said? Nothing could have taken back Pearl Harbor, and the British Empire was never one to comfort. If anything, he would have said it was to be expected, and since America was so eager to become a nation in the past, he should have expected as much. It was probably for the best he had stayed silent. His sharp tongue was known for rubbing salt into wounds, as France had told him often, and he didn't want America to be more upset than he already was. Still though, he was idly concerned with the absence of the newest member of The Allies, since the meeting was over halfway over.

Then, when France was suggesting they end the meeting early because he was tired, and England put a fist into his side, the door opened, and America walked in. He looked positively haggard, and not at all like the cheery young man they all knew so well. Normally he was offering his half-witted optimism no matter what the situation was, but this time he remained straight-faced, and slid into the chair beside Canada, who placed a hand on his shoulder knowingly. England observed as the twins exchanged a small glance, and America gave a wry smile of assurance to the more worried of the pair. They weren't exactly as close as they had been when they were younger, but they did care for one another- despite any grudge Canada claimed to have.

"Ah, Amérique, how nice of you to show your lovely face," France said, breaking the silence. "Of course you would choose to show up late enough to make you the center of attention. It is your forte, no?"

"I was talking to Roosevelt," America offered. "This is my official first day as a member of the Allies, after all. He was briefing me on everything going on, since this is my war too now."

England hadn't missed the implications of the young nation's sentence. It was his war too now. He knew all too well how bitter America had to be. Still, as sad as it was, England was not upset by the turn of events. Certainly, he wished circumstances were different, and the younger nation hadn't had to suffer an attack, but he was…glad to have more support, since he had asked for help only a week ago. He was almost positive the sandy blonde had to know it too. It wasn't exactly anything less than obvious.

"You give him far too much credit, Angleterre," France had said after their declaration of war on Japan. America had left rather abruptly, and England allowed France to drag him to a bar without much hesitation. "You are very obvious about it. Surely he knows how much you are placing on his shoulders."

"It was never my intention to drag him into such things, but now things are different, and I need his help. It's not easy for me either, you frog-faced bastard."

"Alcohol brings out your inner pirate, no? You are hardly your gentlemanly self when drunk!" France had laughed good-naturedly, used to the insults.

"Sometimes it's hard to keep that mask on," England said wistfully. "I truly am terrible, aren't I? I almost feel as though I should send Japan a thank you gift. He has saved me, and has no idea."

"You are no more terrible than you have always been, Angleterre."

"Yes, I am. I spent so much time trying to protect America from the world. I thought…maybe if I shielded him, made him mine, perhaps he would not want to be like we Europeans are. You and I both knew this war was inevitable, and we also know it won't be the last to come, because we thrive in war. We always have. I, myself, am an empire now because of it, and my pavements are soaked in the blood of other nations. It is part of my history, part of Europe's history. But America… I did not want him in the last war, but I was grateful for his help. This time, though. This time I am happy. Do you not see, France? I am happy he is at war, and that is why I am terrible."

"Germany?" a timid voice asked from behind the bedroom door. Said nation looked up from the map of England he had rolled out over his desk to see Italy standing with a pillow in his arms, looking very tired.

"I thought you said you were going to bed," Germany said, returning to his map. He heard the footsteps across the floor and knew Italy had moved closer, as he always did.

"I did go to bed! B-But I got cold. I thought you were coming with me?"

"No, I never said such a thing. I told you to go to your bed. You can't sleep in mine every night, you know."

There were more footsteps as Italy moved even closer, and Germany finally looked up to see golden eyes open for a change, focused on the map as well. He knew Italy didn't like talking about the war, despite declaring himself Germany's ally, which led to the question of why he wanted to get involved at all.

"I'm still sad that Russia left us," the redhead said after studying the map in silence for a few moments. "But you turned your back on him after all."

Germany glared up at him, his blue eyes icy.

"What are you suggesting? Russia would have stabbed me in the back the first chance he got, and you know it. He was never on our side, Italy, just as he is not truly on the other side now. The only side he is on is his own, and I got him before he could get me."

Italy gave him a sad glance, and then placed the pillow on the floor, deciding instead to place his arms around Germany's neck and cuddle close from behind.

"I did not mean to make you upset. I didn't trust him either, and I am glad he did not do anything to hurt you. Why do you not wish to sleep with me tonight? You had no objections last night, and I do think it would bode well for you to dream of something other than war."

"War is all I can dream of now until we can win. Japan has made things more difficult now, bringing America into the war. England was bad enough already, but I was finally getting him where I wanted him. The Fuhrer is delighted still at all the American deaths, but I think he is forgetting how bad it was for us last time that hamburger loving asshole decided to save the world."

"Last time you didn't have me and Japan!" Italy said brightly. "Did I tell you I made him spaghetti last night? He tried to eat it with sticks! Can you imagine such a thing?" Germany cracked a rare smile and gave the redhead a small pat on the head.

"I am grateful to have an ally such as Japan," he said. "But you are more of a pet than an ally."

"Hey! Don't be such a stupid face!"

Germany shook his head, and began circling more locations on the map of England. Italy observed for a little longer, before he placed a kiss on the blonde's head, and then bent over to pick up his pillow.

"Why were you speaking of Russia anyway?" Germany asked when the smaller man reached the door.

"No reason!" Italy chirped brightly, blanching at the skeptical look sent his way.

"Italy."

"I was…concerned. Are you going to turn your back on me as well? I'm not even as strong as Russia is."

Germany sighed and folded up the map, crossing the room to the other nation.

"Let's go to bed. You can…sleep with me if you want."

America remained quiet through the entire meeting, and England couldn't help but find it a little…endearing. To the others, it must have seemed very out of character, but the British Empire knew better. He had raised America, after all, and he knew all too well how the younger nation acted when he was either grieving or pouting. This was most likely a combination of the two. Grieving, of course, for his lost men, and pouting for getting involved in something he had vowed not to. It was very America, at least for the moment.

At the end, Russia was the first to stand, offering his arm to China, who rolled his eyes and all but fled from the room. It was not unnoticed that Russia followed after him, though at a much slower pace. France turned to England and shrugged an arm over his shoulder.

"Shall we go and grab a quick glass of wine, mon ami?" he asked. England merely narrowed his gaze, and turned towards America and Canada.

"Do you think I'll be given the silent treatment until the bloody war is over?" he asked bitterly.

"Ah, I do not think he is offering a silent treatment. His wound is fresh, dearest Angleterre. I do wonder where on his body the injury is though."

"It would be rather rude for you to ask."

"But aren't you always saying I'm rude anyway? You cannot blame me for being curious! He bares the least scars of us all! Well, he and Canada, of course. It has been a long time since I have seen a fresh wound in a nation. To us, it is simply another scar already, for Europe has been at war since the beginning. But those two; they are not like us."

"I am aware."

England watched as France headed toward the twins, hugging Canada from behind and placing his chin on the meek nation's shoulder.

"Ah, Amérique, I hope you do not mind if I take your darling brother with me. This meeting was dreadfully boring, and I need to…relieve tension, if you understand."

America glared up at him as Canada turned bright red and elbowed the older nation in the stomach with a cry of, "Have you no shame?!"

"Yeah, you guys go ahead," America said while France coughed at the sudden blow to the gut. He stood from his chair and went towards the door, but was intercepted by England.

"I was going to go home and have a few drinks. Are you thirsty for some brandy?" he asked the younger nation. To his surprise, America nodded, and allowed himself to be led out of the room. As their shoulders brushed, England could sense the amount of stress the sandy blonde was under. It was like being under a boulder, waiting to be crushed. He knew how it felt, or at least how it used to feel. The weight of war was never easy, but he was so used to it by now it almost felt weightless. America could still feel it, and hopefully he would never get as used to it as the older nations were. England still wished that, even if he was glad to have the help in this war.

"Take a seat, lad. I'll fetch you a glass," he said when they reached his house. America sat in the armchair in front of the fireplace where the coat of arms rested above. It was a rather large tapestry, and the sandy blonde couldn't help but admire the white unicorn and gold lion as he always had. He had always laughed at the unicorn in the past, saying it was just like England to have some mythical creature on something so important, and he was surprised there were no fairies.

"Admiring that again, are we?" England asked when he returned, placing the glass on the table. "I suppose it is better than being stared down by an eagle all the time."

"That eagle is a symbol of freedom, so I'm not surprised you wouldn't appreciate it," America muttered as he picked up his glass. The older nation sighed and sat across from him.

"Are we not going to be civil?"

"I'm being civil."

"You think me a fool? I know when you are moping about. I admit I haven't seen it for quite some time, but you were never very good at hiding your emotions."

America sat his glass down with more force than necessary, making some of the liquid fly onto the table.

"I have a right, don't I? This isn't like before when I was fighting going to bed early or pitching a fit so you'd read me another story! Dammit, England, it's bad enough that I have to go back to war with that psycho Germany, but you-!" He paused for a second, and then placed his head in his hands, exhaling deeply. "You're so fucking glad about it that it makes me sick…"

"Yes, I am glad. Very glad, I admit."

America gave a shaky sigh, and then looked up again to the knowing gaze of the older nation.

"I guess I'm being unreasonable, right? I know this isn't your fault, even if you did declare war first along with France. You crazy Europeans and your wars."

England drained his glass and reached for the bottle, humming knowingly as he poured.

"I do agree we are very different, you and I. Let's keep it that way, shall we? Drink up lad- it helps."

America did just that, throwing it back like a shot and slamming the glass down to signal he wanted more. England obliged, not caring whether the younger got drunk or not, as long as they didn't end up in a shouting match over nothing again.

"I still can't believe you declared war so fast. Was it so hard to talk things through without guns blazing?"

"It is when your opponent is Germany. He is angry beyond all reason," England sighed.

"He has a right, wouldn't you say? Even you said that treaty was crazy."

"It was, it was. Still, that should not make reason leave the equation entirely. Surely Germany knew his actions would provoke another war, so the blame is his. It matters not who joins to fight the fire, it only matters who started it. Would you not agree?"

"I guess so," America shrugged, his speech beginning to slur as he drained his second glass. "But you have been known to hold a nasty grudge yourself."

"I beg to differ."

"Dude… You joined like three wars just to get back at France. Those didn't even concern you!"

"I was young! Besides, that's neither here nor there. I only fight now if it's in the best interest for my people, same as you, and I am glad to have you here, not glad you were hurt. Surely you knew it upset me too? I could never let anyone else hurt you so and get away with it. That is why we slammed those declarations on Japan's desk together."

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

"Perhaps a little, but at least it makes me honest. I know you feel betrayed by Japan, right? You and he were friends for a bit."

"You were his friend too."

"Things change, poppet. Things change. I was also friends with Germany once before, and I've fought with France more times than I can count, but he and I have allied in the past two wars. You and I weren't even speaking much until The Great War, and we used to be inseparable. I've learned many things in my years, and my status as an empire has only made me realize it more. There is only one truth to live by. Do you wish to know it?"

"The almighty holier than thou British Empire is gonna share his secrets of success with me?" America grinned, his cheeks flushed to show he was indeed drunk. "Yeah, tell me. You might not tell me again when you're sober."

England smiled and leaned forward. "The truth, America, is that in the end, you'll end up alone anyway. Everyone leaves eventually. Nothing else matters."

"Don't say that!" America cried, much more emotional than usual due to the alcohol in his system. "That's horrible! There has to be something else to existence, otherwise what's the point in making so many friends?"

"I do believe it's almost time for you to sleep, America," England said, realizing he didn't want an overly emotional and very drunk America sobbing on him for the entire night. The sandy blonde nodded, and stood up, stumbling a little. He began unbuttoning his uniform after he removed the bomber jacket, and the older nation couldn't help but look at the fresh wound as it hit the air.

It wasn't large, but it seemed to be very deep. England wondered idly why it wasn't wrapped in bandages, but then he realized it had probably never even occurred to the dense younger nation to do so. He approached America, and lightly ran his fingers over the wound, tracing the edges. The sandy blonde didn't react at all, and England wondered for a moment if he had felt it at all for a moment.

"It still stings," America whispered. "Every now and then, it just hurts. I mean, I brought that asshole out of his little shut-in world and this is how he repays me?! Damn him to hell! I'll get him back, I swear I will."

"Shh, love. Let's not talk of revenge right now. I don't like you talking in such a way. Come on now, finish getting undressed for bed."

"'M gonna sleep in your bed, kay?"

"You usually do. Ever since you were little, you know. I used to lie awake and listen to you sneaking into my bed, thinking you were clever and quiet. I never could kick you out though. France says I spoiled you too much."

"Heh… I like your stories," America replied as he clumsily starting climbing the stairs. "Did I ever tell you that when I was small?"

"Yes, you did," England smiled as he helped him up the stairs, not nearly as drunk as the younger nation for once. "You used to tell me all the time, back when you were cute."

They reached the bed, and America face-planted ungracefully into the pillows, not bothering to remove his pants. England huffed at him, and set to take them off for him, listening as the sandy blonde muttered little drunken sentences while struggling to stay awake.

"'M glad to be with you…" he said quietly as he lifted his hips helpfully to help in the removal of his pants. "Even with all this shit goin' on… Least 'm with you…"

"Silly fool. You have no clue what you're saying. Sleep now, America," England said as he removed his own shirt and revealed his scars to the night air. He observed as blue eyes looked up at him sleepily, taking in his bare chest as he turned to find a nightshirt.

"'M gonna prove you wrong about that alone thing," America said as his eyes closed. "I have to. I don't…don't like thinking of being alone… I don't like it."

England chuckled as he traced the scar on his chest. It wasn't his worst, and it wasn't the deepest, but it hurt more than any other he had ever received. It was placed right above his heart, and it throbbed for almost a century after he had received it. Even presently, it would ache every now and then.

"Of course you don't like it, America," the older nation whispered as he crawled beside the younger and pulled him close. "It was you who taught me that, after all."

Sachi: WHEW, man, what a monster of a story this is turning into. It's been a while since I've written such a long chapter for anything! I REALLY love WWII though, if you can't tell. I was a huge nerd in school about it, and I still am now. I mean, every war is pretty terrible, in its own way, and I'm certain I've said this before, but WWII is probably the most significant of any because it shows us how evil mankind can truly be, and we mustn't forget that.

America: I try to remember things! But then I forget them. I guess they're just not important!

England: I'd say it's because you're stupid.

America: Hey!

Sachi: Ah, these two. Anywho, let's see here…

I used the Churchill quote above to help demonstrate his…love for Americans. Do not think me vain just because I am American! No, he seriously loved them, and Franklin Roosevelt was his best friend. These two were like, the original UkUs, UsUk, and no, I'm not saying they were homosexual. They just believed in moving forward together, since America and England share a history, a language, and ideas.

The Treaty of Versailles really did humiliate Germany so bad. That's where the Baltic States came from, actually. Germany had to give that land to Russia, who made some of it into the separate states Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia. Germany also had to give up control of their overseas colonies, The army was reduced, as were the naval bases, and he was not allowed an air force. The worst blow was the financial aspect of it, since the goal there seemed to be to make it impossible for Germany to rebuild an economy.

America did not ratify the treaty because the president at the time, President Woodrow Wilson, had his own plans for peace in his fourteen points, but was rejected. Personal animosities between him and Henry Cabot Lodge, among other things, made the U.S. refuse to ratify the treaty, and refuse to join the League of Nations, which was a horrible idea anyway.

Also, I know Italy wasn't a complete idiot here, but that's because I'm not portraying him as such. I think it's best to keep him oblivious in some things, but not always. He has to be a little smart, guys! I mean, he's an artist! DX Anyway, review for love! You know you want it!