The madness of life {on permanent hiatus}

Sadness.

America looked down at his maps, glaring silently. He had played games like this for years now, but... It had been so long. Briefly, he wondered what England was doing, but wiped the thought away. That didn't matter now. But what about Canada? What about everyone? Every time he closed his eyes the blood splashed over the darkness, the screaming rung in his ears. Maybe it was real screaming. France walked into the tent, running his hands through his hair. He looked ragged, sad. Maybe he was thinking of Canada too. America didn't laugh, he didn't jump to his feet, he didn't declare himself the hero. These were times of war.
................
The gun was wavering right in front of his head, his brother- England! Shaking as he stood there. It's was so terrifying, the madness in his eyes at that moment, the anger. And then his knees buckled, the fight disappearing as fast as it came. England was on his knees, right in front of him. America didn't even realise those words were there until he heard them. You used to be so...big.
................
America sagged. They were friends though, after that, they worked together. They weren't brothers anymore, sometimes not even friends then, but he thought that would never happen again. He wasn't a kid now, he was an country, and the families and the lives that he had destroyed, the memory's that were piling down on him, he hadn't felt so small for a long time. As France drew up a chair, slumping over the battle plans, America finally spoke. "I just want this to be over. I just want to end all this." France looked away, thinking of the other country's on their side, fighting at this moment. How do you reply?
They had nothing to say.