America woke up suddenly. Something was wrong. Horribly, incredibly wrong.
Sadly, it felt familiar. At least, he recognized even in his sleepy state, this felling. He had felt it once before.
He leapt out of bed and ran to the phone.
"Mr. President, send troops to Hawaii! Now!"
The president was sleepy-sounding. "What is it, Alfred?"
"Dude, Hawaii. Send troops! Now!"
"Okay, okay, 'm sending troops. Now, what is this about?"
"Pearl Harbor!"
"Alfred, is this one of your nightmares? Because I've told you to see a psychiatrist."
America shuddered involuntarily. Oh, his nightmares were bad, so bad…
No, this was worse. Mainly because it was real.
"No, Dude, it's totally real. Please, just send the Air Force. I swear, it's not a dream."
Something in America's voice must have convinced the president. "Alright, Alfred. I'll send the Air Force. We'll talk in the morning. Good night."
America did not- could not -go back to sleep. He didn't dare check the news, so his just paced around his room, trying not to think.
Finally, eight o'clock came. The phone rang and America ran to pick it up.
"Hello, sir! I was right. Something happened! What happened?"
"Alfred…Pearl Harbor was bombed last night. 400 men were lost and three ships sank. I'm sorry."
"Who-who did it?"
"Alfred-"
"Who did it?" America shouted.
"China and North Korea seemed to have allied themselves with Denmark…"
"We chased them off, though, right? They won't come back?"
The other end of the line was silent for a moment. "Alfred…They're heading north and east, towards-"
"No, not California!"
"I'm sorry, Alfred. We're doing everything we can, but our resources are all in Europe right now…"
"Get them out of there! We need them to defend our home! We need them back here!"
"Alfred, calm down. We can't pull them out right away. It'll be at least a week before the first group gets back. It will be fine. Why don't you go talk to Japan and Russia?"
That sounded like a good idea, actually. Having allies who he could call up and chat with was good. Maybe they would lend him some troops…
"Good bye, Alfred."
"Good bye, Mr. President." America hung up and immediately dialed another number.
"Herro, America-san."
"Japan! How are you?"
"I am werr."
"That's good. Did you hear about Pearl Harbor?"
"Yes. I am sorry for your ross."
"So, the planes are continuing to the mainland and they're gonna try to take California. But I don't have any troops right now. Well, I've got some, but not enough. Can you lend me some?"
"I aporogize, America. My army is busy fighting my brother from where the sun sets." Had that been a trace of blood-thirst in Japan's voice? Probably not, but if so…run.
"Oh, well, um, let me know if you need any help."
"Of course. Good bye, America." Japan hung up.
Well, that left America two options: do nothing (not likely), or call Russia (under different circumstances, even less likely).
He punched in the numbers to Russia's phone. (His own mind said nothing about what it meant that he had memorized Russia's number, but all the fangirls did.)
After three rings, Russia picked up. "Privyet, Amerika."
"Hi, Russia."
"I was hearing about Pearl Harbor. I am sorry for your loss, Amerika."
Hearing Russia, of all nations, say it somehow made it real. Tears began running down America's face. Hot, burning tears of loss, sadness, and something he couldn't name.
"Amerika?" Russia sounded worried for some reason. "Amerika, are you alright?"
America put his hand over the receiver and sniffed loudly. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You were wanting to meet with me, da?"
"Oh, yeah…look, I'm not sure if this is a good time…"
"We do not have to talk of strategy. I'll be there soon." Russia hung up.
America sighed. Damn Commie.
He decided that he had to at least look presentable (even though Russia was his ally, it wouldn't do to look weak). He splashed water on his face, combed his hair, and threw on some clean clothes.
The doorbell rang. America sighed again and answered it.
Russia stood there. "Privyet, Amerika. May I come in?"
"Yeah, of course." America stood aside to let the Russian in.
"I am sorry for your loss, Amerika. Is there something I may do for you?"
"No. N-not really." Damn, he couldn't even think about it without crying. He turned away. He couldn't let Russia see him cry.
However, the next thing he knew, he was sitting in Russia's lap.
"Russia, wh-what are you doing?"
"I am giving you a shoulder to cry on. That is the expression, da?"
Well, yes, it was. But America would have preferred someone else's shoulder to cry on. Someone less creepy.
"Amerika, we do not have to speak about this again."
The world didn't have to know that he had cried onto an ex-Commie's scarf? That was all America needed to know. He began sobbing in earnest, for once not caring what Russia thought.
America finally fell asleep.
The combination of not sleeping the night before (at least, Russia didn't think he had) and the release of so much emotion had led to the American crying himself to sleep.
Russia smiled sadly. His little sunflower looked so peaceful while asleep. But sunflowers did not last forever.
This could not last.
He sighed. He really did have to leave. He didn't want to, but he had important meetings to go to.
Carefully, he picked America up and tucked him into his bed. Gently, he brushed hair and the last trace of tears away, before leaving.