Save Me.

The Change.

Something wasn't right with America, Britain could tell. For one he had been showing up less and less to the World Meetings and two he was acting different; Not as loud and outgoing as usual. Something about his smiles had changed, too.
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Around the table were a group of countries. At the head of the table an angry German stood, yelling uselessly at the arguing people. France and Britain were in a heated conversation, but this time it was different. The American that would normally be in the middle, spurting random declarations of freedom and heroness, was quietly sitting next to the Britain.

He had his brown jacket zipped and the sleeves pulled down as far as they could go. His eyes were a dull blue, lacking there usual gleam. As the others fought, he sat there staring blankly at them. Without anyone noticing he stood and walked out. The meeting would obviously get no where and he did not want to be there. Alone, he walked down the rain sleeked sidewalk.

~Arthur~

The meeting, like usual, had gotten no where. It was just a bunch of yelling and arguing. The only noticeable difference, though nobody mentioned it, was the absence of America.

As I was leaving the building Germany approached me.

"We are all a bit.... worried about America," he said, "and think someone should check on him. The others think it should be you."

I looked at him, "why don't you get France to do it?" I asked kind of rudely, "I'm sure that old frog would love to." Though I didn't seem it, on the inside I was worried about America. He wasn't acting right.

"Please, just check on him." Germany asked, giving me a long look before leaving. I stood in the rain, watching him go with the small Italian.

By the time I got to Alfred's house, my clothes were soaked and I was shivering. Who knew a May day could be so cold. Grumbling I knocked on the door. It was a matter of seconds before the door swung open. Behind it stood America, his meeting attire replaced by sweatpants and a black long sleeve. It wasn't very noticeable, but he was skinnier.

"Iggy? What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice quiet.

"Would you let me in?!" I said angrily, "I'm bloody soaked." He quickly moved over, allowing me to walk in.

"Ill go get you some clothes to change into." Quickly, he rushed to his room. I stood on the Welcome mat, shivering and dripping water. My water filled shoes were removed, as he returned. In his arms was a bundle of clothes.

I followed him to the bathroom, clothes now in my hands.

"Ill be in the living room." He told me, closing the door. After he had closed the door, I removed my clothes, dropping them into the tub. As I was turning to grab the dry clothes I noticed something strange. A black towel was covering the mirror above the sink. Ill ask him about it later.

I had to roll my eyes at the underwear I received. They were an American flag pair with "I Love NY" stamped across the butt. Over those a pair of small black skinny jeans were put on. Of course they were skinny jeans. I've told him many times that I do NOT wear skinny jeans nor will I ever own a pair. I found them tight and strange. I swallowed my discomfort and buttoned them, I would rather walk around in these, then the underwear.

Last but not least was the shirt. It was an oversized beige jumper, going down to mid thigh. Casting one last glance at the covered mirror, I head to the living room. Alfred is sitting on the couch, watching the weather. When I walk in he turns to look at me.

"Nice pants." He teases. I mutter and walk over to him, sitting on the opposite side of the couch. He chuckles and watches me.

"They make your butt look good." At those words I turn to look at him, flustered.

"There's going to be a storm tonight, so you're going to have to stay." He tells me, glancing at the TV. There's a message behind that. The storm won't be very bad one, If I leave within the next hour I can make it to my hotel safely and without a problem. He doesn't want me to leave.

"You still haven't gotten over your fear of lightning, have you?" I ask, already knowing the answer. He doesn't say anything, just looks at his hands. After a few moments of silence I speak again.

"The others are worried about you, you've been skipping a lot of meetings, and leaving the ones you do come to early." I tell him. Again he doesn't answer. "You're acting different, too." I say quieter.

"Are you worried about me?" He asks, smiling slightly.

"N-no." I stutter, lying. "It's the others." I can tell my face is red.

Outside thunder booms, bringing a bright flash with it. America visibly jumps, his eyes are wide. Right then the power flickers and goes out. In the dark I can see his figure shaking. The thunder gets louder and the flashes brighter.

"Come here." I sigh, opening my arms. America shoots across the couch, hiding his face in my shoulder. My "mother instincts", as they call them, kick in and I pull him back some. He looks at me with wide tearful eyes, and gently I remove his glasses. They are set on the nearby stand, and I turn my body so my back is against the couch arm. My legs are spread out in front of me in a V shape.

America curls up in the space between my legs, resting his head against my chest. I wrap an arm around his shaking frame, running my free hand through his messy hair.

"It'll be alright." I mumble soothingly, trying to calm him.

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There are exactly 1,000 words in this chapter, not including these end ones! Anyway, this is my first Hetalia fanfic and I hope you enjoyed it! I love reading the comments I receive and try to reply to most of them! If you liked it and want more vote and share with others!