Author's note: It's snowing! I am super psyched! Well, it's kind of snowing. Anyhow, this story is based off of the shooting in Ottawa that happened a few weeks ago. I wrote this right after I heard about, and did as much research as was available at the time. If anything is wrong, or in any way offensive, please tell me and I will change it. Thank you.

"Sir, a phone call." A voice broke through Canada's reverie and he turned to one of the officers that was covering the area. Canada took the phone without saying a word and put it to his ear, expecting to hear from another politician, but instead heard a voice he did not realise he had wanted to hear.

"Bro, Mattie, are you there?" The voice, his twin brother, America, sounded frantic, and Canada could not really blame him.

"Yeah, Al, I'm here," Canada said, turning his eyes to a small pile of flowers beginning to form on the sidewalk.

"Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt? I'm going to come out there-"

"Woah, hold on there. Alfred, I'm fine."

"But-"

"Al, everything is fine. I'm not hurt…." Canada became silent as he saw a few armed guards pass by him and he began to walk away from the parliament building, not wanting to be near the cause of his inner turmoil any longer. His stomach felt like it was doing somersaults and he could not take his mind away from what the news was beginning to broadcast. "I wasn't even in the area at the time."

"I'm coming over." Alfred said, giving a tone that dared for an argument. Canada sighed, not wanting to deal with his frantic brother on top of the media and local cops. Matthew pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment as a police officer approached him and updated him on incoming news. Canada nodded, then winced when he head his brother yelling from the other end of the line. He thanked the officer, who stared at the phone curiously, but left without asking any questions. Canada pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut at the headache he could feel forming in the back of his head. He pulled the phone back to his ear, expecting to hear his brother yelling still, but all he heard was silence. Matthew waited for a minute, knowing the phone was still on from the sounds of shuffling on the other end.

"Alfred?" Matthew finally asked, his patience already thin, and his brother's antics not on the top of his list of things to deal with.

"Yeah, Mattie. I'm still here. Just waiting for you to get done. Are you sure you're alright?" Alfred asked quietly, his tone more subdued when he realized his yelling would not help his brother.

"Al, as a person, I'm fine, but," Canada opened his eyes and glanced around at his surroundings, making sure no one would overhear his conversation, "as a country, I feel like a wreck. This isn't the first time it's happened, either, and my people are showing a brave face, but they are truly scared. These are not something that have happened before. The media is already calling it a terrorist attack, and I can't disagree with them, especially after I found out there was a casualty. People are afraid it's going to happen again, and I can feel every bit of their worry. My parliament is taking it well enough, though. The government can't stop for one attack." Canada let out a shaky breath, trying to regain his composure after spilling his emotions into every word he spoke. Alfred, having been quiet and patient while his brother vented, moved on the other end of the line, adjusting the phone to his other ear.

"Al, I thought things were getting better." Canada whispered, just loud enough for his brother to hear, his voice suddenly weak and his head feeling light. The other end of the line stayed silent, and Canada almost began to think that his brother had hung up on him, but he heard a swoosh of breath from the other end of the line and knew his brother was thinking.

"It is, Mattie. But some things you simply cannot help. Some people are too far gone, some events were meant to be, but none of it has killed us yet."

"Yeah, but what about the victims of these crimes?! They can't just be-"

"Matthew," Alfred interrupted in a calm, patient voice, willing his brother to calm simply through his words, "Canada," Alfred put mental emphasis on his brother's name, "You are one of the strongest countries in the world. You have been through and involved in enough battle and bloodshed to compete with a few of the older countries. You are a strong fighter. Heck, you're a better sniper than me by far, although I'll never tell anyone else that." Alfred smiled when he heard a huff of air signifying a laugh from the other end of the line. "Your people are strong. You are strong. You have a wonderful rich history and country. These small attacks mean nothing in the long run. Yes, people were hurt and killed, but you cannot let that take over you. You have to take it in stride and let it make you stronger. Let it bring your people closer together. And, I need you to know, I'll always be here for you. I'll back you up and protect you in any way I can for however long I live. I promise." Alfred shifted the phone again to his other ear and waited patiently for Canada's response, letting him soak in all that he had been told. Alfred needed to be the patience and calm that he knew Canada was not feeling right now. After a long silence, a slow exhale from the other end of the line signified that Matthew was still with him.

"Thanks, Al," Canada said, just above a whisper, his voice seeming to have lost all emotion and energy.

"Anytime, bro," America answered back in the same tone. "Are you sure you don't want me to come over? I'm sure I can help with something?"

"No, Al, but thanks. I know you have the virus to deal with right now, with it recently spreading to New York. I'm sure you have just as many politicians and media to deal with. But, after this all blows over, we need to get out somewhere secluded and stare at the clouds. Deal?" Canada's voice gained momentum and he could now feel, under the veil of panic and fear, a strength that he could not feel before, coming forth from his country. He knew his people were strong. He never doubted them. One moment of weakness does not make for a lifetime of failure.

"Yeah. That sounds great. Oh, hey, I gotta go, but I'm going to call back again this time tomorrow, alright? If you need anything, call me anytime. I don't care. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. Love ya, bro. Stay strong." And with that, America hung up the phone. Canada held the mobile up to his ear for a few seconds, letting the white noise around him come back into focus. Finally, he put the phone away and turned back to the parliament building, suddenly ready for any more questions and concerns thrown his way. He could do this. His people were strong and so was he. And nothing was going to change that.