New Life

Disaster

It was the next world meeting that was interesting. Throughout the meeting, America was attentive as ever, giving his own ideas and suggestions that others accepted. Of course, eventually America made his presentation to the conference. Honestly, Prussia found it a bit difficult to follow. And by the confused glances from everyone else around the room, he wasn't the only one. There was one person who seemed to speaking the same language as him. Russia hung on every word America spoke. America seemed to talk at eighty miles an hour, not stopping for a breath. Prussia heard him talk about space and the moon. He thought he heard his little brother start to mention the Soviet Union when he faltered and continued into something else.

Somehow, Russia and America began to argue with each other. And by the time anyone noticed they were arguing, it was too late to stop.

"You forget, I got to space first," Russia said smugly. "Therefore, I won the space race."

America just shook his head. "Who's flag is on the moon? Who went to the moon?"

"Didn't you just go to Hollywood?"

"You want to fight, Ruskie?"

Russia simply shrugged. "I still won the space race."

"In your dreams!"

"Boys!" Hungary called out. "That's enough! We don't need another Cold War."

America sat back down in his seat with a huff, his arms across his chest. "I did make it to the moon," he muttered.

It was hard to differentiate when America was talking about the Cold War and when he was talking about current politics. America kept to himself a lot. He still talked with everyone and took part in their family, but he didn't share as often. And everything seemed genuinely fine for the longest time. That was, until autumn came around.

Germany had gone in early for work. Prussia and America had breakfast in the kitchen. Afterwards, America had gone to his room. Prussia cleared away the dishes as he usually did and was putting them away when he almost dropped the plate in hand.

A strangled yell ran through the house. Prussia quickly put the dish down and ran through the house, not stopping until he came to America's room. The door was open and inside, America sat on the floor beside his bed, his knees pulled up to his chest.

"America. What wrong?"

He quickly sat down beside his little brother, putting an arm around him. He felt America's body tremble and saw tears just beneath his eyes. America didn't speak, only held America to comfort him.

"Prussia?" His voice was barely over a whisper.

"Yes?"

"Why do we have to fight so much? Why do so many people die?" he asked, choking on his own words.

"I don't know," Prussia said softly.

"It hurts," he said softly. "In my chest, it hurts."

Prussia held his brother close to him. He couldn't stand that there was nothing he could do to make his pain vanish. That America was being made to relive these things. He didn't know how long they sat there together. He only knew that he needn't to care for him right now.

"Why do these things keep happening?"

"I don't know," was his only answer. "You just have to keep hope that things will get better."

Leaving a message for Germany on his phone, the two brothers each packed a bag and got a flight to New York. Prussia only hoped that seeing the city as it is now would help America through this. To see that they will make it through the tough times. And it did work. Before he knew it, America was leading Prussia all around the city, to the highest skyscrapers and the best restaurants. Prussia hadn't ever seen America happier.

Towards the end of the day, the two headed back to America's place in the city. Though, he wasn't there often anymore, it was still there for him. They both went to their rooms, and as Prussia closed his eyes to sleep, he felt a call settle in his chest.

Finally, this reliving history stuff was done. America would finally he okay. He hoped.