New Life

Making Amends

Prussia said it was something he always did; write in a diary. He said it helped get his thoughts out, helped him sort through things. America soon found that he was right. A small notebook held all his thoughts. America, physically, was about an adult now, but sometimes he felt just as helpless as a little kid.

It was now that he needed it more than ever. He remembered England and Canada. He remembered feeling lost and alone, as if no one really cared about him. Every argument he had with England that seemed to drown out the good memories. The marks in his arm were still there. A permanent reminder of the darkness that had swallowed him.

He wanted to quit thinking if these things, to just put them in the past, bit he couldn't. Something wouldn't let him.

"You have to talk to them," Prussia had told him.

"What?"

"Talk to England and Canada," his brother said. "It's the only way to get through this."

He knew he had to do it, it didn't make any less nerve-racking, though. It was more the dream he had that convinced him to do it. Alfred would have wanted it. The next meeting was the most convenient place to speak with them, and that's what he did. America didn't hear much that was spoken during that meeting. His mind only started to function correctly once everyone began to stand from their seats; the meeting over for the day.

His eyes quickly scanned the room, searching for the trio of blonds that he had intended to speak to that afternoon. He quickly found them, the three of them making their way towards the door. America pushed through the many people in the room. Once he had made it to a break in the crowd, he watched the three he had been after disappear into the hallway. He dashed to the door, turning down the hall and running down to catch up with them.

"Hey! Wait!"

The three immediately stopped and turned around to see him running towards them. Their expressions seemed to be a difficult concoction of cheer and sadness. America stopped in front of them and kept silent for a second before he realized that they were waiting for him to speak.

"Um, I was wondering if we could talk," he said nervously.

"Of course," Canada said immediately.

Soon enough, their small group had walked outside where they all stopped at a couple benches in the courtyard. The sky was clear and a variety of birds could be heard all around them mixed with the loud clatter of traffic.

"So," America started uncertainly. "I've been kind of reliving my history, and I'm almost caught up. There's just the stuff that Alfred went through."

"I thought," England started uncertainly.

"I am America," he clarified. "I have all of Alfred's memories and remember everything he went through and feel it the same as he did. But I am my own person." Without looking up to see if they understood, Cote continued. "I wanted to talk to you all. I just can't understand why you treated Alfred the way you did." He looked up to see their faces with a strange mixture of knowing and confusion. "At one point or another, you all turned your backs on him, left him to deal on his own when he fell."

"I wish there was a good answer to that," England said quietly.

Cote looked up to see England leaning over his knees, his face held in his hands. France seemed simply at a loss of words just as Canada was.

"I guess," Canada started. "I somewhat always blamed him. He always got the attention and I didn't realize that it wan't necessarily a good thing."

Makes sense.

Cote glanced to the side to see the phantom image of Alfred standing there, an image he somehow knew that only he could see. He looked back to Canada with a nod. "It makes sense. You can't ever really know what someone else's life is like."

Canada smirked. "Even you're wise."

Now he realizes that, Alfred said with a smirk.

France was next to speak. "It seems that we all greatly underestimated what Alfred actually did, many times, too many."

You think?

"Please, be quiet."

Fine.

The rest looked up worriedly.

"It's not you. It's Alfred," Cote clarified.

"What?" France said in disbelief.

"He's right there." Cote nodded to where Alfred stood with a grin on his face. "If you want to say anything to him, now's the time. He can hear you."

"Alfred, I'm- I don't- I guess I never took very good care of you," England stuttered.

You never were very good at running your empire anyways, Alfred said with a snicker.

"He says, you were in a kinda off point in your life."

"Just a bit?" France added. The rest of them laughed a bit.

It all seemed so calm. The more they each spoke, the more the air seemed to relax. The thick anxious aura that had surrounded them was now nonexistent. Cote felt relaxed in their presences now. Not as before when he hadn't been sure how to feel. And after some time, cote was happy to say that the three had become his friends.

Thanks.

"No problem."

Everything's okay, though? You're gonna be okay?

Cote nodded with a smile as he looked to Alfred. "I think I'm going to be okay."

Alfred smiled back to him. He held out his hand and Cote shook it with his own. He watched Alfred fade from sight, a smile on his lips.

"Hey, America!"

Cote turned on his feet to see Prussia standing with Hungary at the other end of the hall, a good hundred or so yards. Cote waved to his family.

"Привет, America."

Cote turned back around to see Russia standing in front of him. He smiled to the man. "Hey, Russia. What's up?"

"Not much," he said with a soft smile.

"I was just heading out with Prussia and Hungary for lunch. You wanna come?"

He nodded. "I would."

"Great! Come on."

He lead the Russian down the hall to his family where they all grouped together before heading outside to the blue sky.

He wouldn't ever see Alfred again, but his knowledge would always be with him. Besides, he had what was most important. A family, his family. His friends. The ones who he wouldn't let go. Maybe they'd go through rough spots, but getting through it is what really mattered.

That's how you knew it was all worth it.

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It's been great guys!
Hope you all enjoyed this little story of mine.

-Ivvy