USA stood outside the meeting room, he was almost thrilled about this meeting in particular. It was the year 1941, and the USA had just joined WWII. He was almost completely healed from the Great Depression, which had taken a giant toll on his health and well being in general. He was covered in scars he wouldn't want to go into too much detail about, and was desperately trying to get out of some bad habits. Sometimes getting out of bed was hard, but because of who he was going to meet, America had been able to get out of his house a lot easier this morning.

In this meeting, he would be meeting USSR. He had heard Soviet had gained independence and was going to the meeting, and after a while he had decided to get a plane and fly out to Switzerland, which was where the meeting was being held. Believe it or not, America had once been best buddies with Soviet, but that was a long time ago. Hundreds of years ago. Back when America was called 13 colonies, and lived with the British Empire. Now that America was thinking about it, he was probably 6 years old when he first met Soviet. They had been best friends until a certain accident happened when America was 10 years old. After that, 13 colonies had never left the house.

America had lost contact with Soviet, and until a week ago when he got the news that Soviet was independent, he had completely forgotten about the Russians.

America thought of a few early memories with Soviet, nostalgia coming back to him as he thought of the russian.

13 colonies sat on the step to the entrance of a large building all the older countries were in. His good friend, Socialist Republics, was sitting beside him and holding a handful of dirt in their red hands. 13 colonies leaned over and picked out a small rock from the red countries hands, and threw it aside. Almost immediately Socialist Republics threw the handful of dirt at him with a laugh. 13 colonies immediately lifted his hands up and jumped up, laughing.

The corners of America's mouth lifted at the memory, lifting his hand up to open the door. But then something hit him. A thought.

'If United States had changed so much over the many years, wouldn't have Soviet?'

America thought over that, his hand falling to his side. It was a more realistic thought. Soviet wouldn't be a small child anymore, Soviet wouldn't like to dig around in the dirt for bugs anymore, and he definitely would have matured a ton more.

As the American thought about it, he stepped away from the door and walked slightly away. He realized he had immaturely thought that maybe the two could get back to being best buds. But time changed people. He doubted Soviet would recognize him. He was older, and his country and him have been through so much that he was even unrecognizable to himself. USA was tall and lean, with a muscular build that came from working in the military and navy and working out almost everyday.

He was too big for tree houses and backyard swings. Too big for board games and other childish games. His voice was deep and had a heavy American country accent, and he didn't make puerile wishes on shooting stars anymore. He had grown up from a helpless, troubled child into a much darker version of his past self.

America could only guess what Soviet had become of.

–

USSR was sitting in one of the desks in the back of the meeting room. He was looking at a photo of a familiar country. He hadn't thought of this country in hundreds of years, and seeing a photo of them made him remember them. Looking at this photo of USA during the Great Depression gave him the connection between an old, half forgotten friend of his; 13 Colonies.

When he had first heard of the USA joining the war, and the personification of the country was coming to the meeting, he didn't give a shit. He knew of the country, but not of the personification. Soviet had never met them, and didn't recognize the name of any countryhuman he had met before. But seeing this photo, he made the connection and was quite surprised. America had definitely changed from a young innocent child to a much more depressed, run down country. For all he knew, America could have looked like this after the accident, as he never saw the country after it.

Soviet had never gotten the specifics of what happened to his old friend, 13 colonies, but all he knew was that 13 colonies wasn't going to be seeing him again. And ever since then, he never saw the colony again.

In this picture, it showed what he had gone through and what kind of toll it had put on him. It made the Russian feel almost a bit bad. Soviet did decide that possibly during this meeting, he'd get to catch a glimpse of his old friend, and maybe catch up with him. See what had happened. But he had blocked out that idea after he realized how bad America looked in the photo. It was likely that America would enter the room, say a small hi, and leave. Maybe not even show up.

As Soviet thought about it, he realized that America probably wasn't going to be so friendly anymore, a much more damaged and depressing country to be around. He stuffed the photo into his coat pocket, along with the hopes of any future friendships with the country.

–

USA was standing beside the door, rethinking that one thought. He had changed so drastically, and was so damaged over years of wars and mental issues. He had been told many times before that he wasn't the best person to be around. And as he thought about that, the realization continued to hit him. Him and USSR wouldn't be as good of allies as they once were.

America glanced back at the door, a sick feeling in his gut and his arms and legs starting to itch. He wanted to itch it so bad, but he knew he'd start bleeding. The scabs weren't done healing just yet. America sighed and walked back over to the door, he opened it even though the whole reason he went to the meeting was gone.