Prucan OneShots (Requests are open)

Can I talk to you for a bit?

Canada tells Gilbert his fears for his brother.

The young blonde sat on the couch, not really paying attention to the screen, he was on his phone, in all honesty, he was playing UNO with Romano. 

For some odd reason though, he had an urge to look up at the larger screen, and when he did, his heart skipped a beat when he saw something on the television. It was about his neighbour/brother, America.
This was the seventh time in three days with a new story about how things were going south down there.

"Many kids in America also say that they believe that their country will fall before they are in politics."

A lump formed in the Countrys throat. 

A part of him wanted to rush to his brother, and demand that he tell him what all was wrong with his country so that maybe they could somehow figure out what to do.
He felt as if though it was already too late to fix anything. 

Questions sprung up like Daisies in his mind. 

Would his brother die? Would he become like his mother? Would he leave with other Nations that had come before them?
Would he be like his lover?

Damn those humans. Can't they just agree to just try to come together, and save their own home before they fall? 

They need to stop the useless things they fight over, their petty investigations, and sit to think of what they can do to make their home truly great again. Hell even if they were decent. Even if Alfred wasn't the greatest anymore just as long as he could get by with being decent. It would be alright with the Canadian, just as long as the nation didn't fall.

The people would leave, too lazy to clean their own mess.

What would become of the states? 
They would probably turn into their own countries, maybe take different names. 
His brother would be the second Europe, or what was him.

He was starting to shake uncontrollably, but it went unnoticed as he delved deeper into all the shit that his brother was maybe hiding behind that goofy grin.
He had noticed the nation become more tired, how he ate more food, and his brother knew that sometimes that food would come up again on purpose.

Was it the economy?
Was it everyone disagreeing?

The racist men, and women who needed to be taught that they shouldn't be racist, that not all of who they hate are alike?

Was it the people in charge?
Was there someone else pulling the strings behind the walls to make the show how they want it?

Suddenly he felt his phone buzz, letting off a loud song released in the early 1900s.
A picture of a white-haired male showed up on phone, and he swiped the icon to green.
"Hey." the purple-eyed male said with a shaky voice.

Was he crying?

The young looking man touched his cheeks, and stopped a hot wet tear from rolling down his face.
"Mattie?" A concerned voice said from the other side of the line "Are you okay?"

Don't lie to him.

A voice in his head said.

"No." The red-eyed man said, as he took off his round-rimmed wire glasses, to wipe his eyes. (The glasses were set on his thigh)

"I'm worried about Al."

"You two?" The white haired male sighed. "I thought England would be the first to comfornt him about it, but he still hasn't."

"Everyone's ignoring it." The Canadian said getting a little agravated. "I think he's getting worse, and I want to help.  I don't know if I can though or what to do or even if I do help it will change anything."
He was rambiling his words coming out of his mouth like they were the rushing of a downstream river.
"I'm scared Gil, what if he dies?"
the man on th eother line was silent for a moment, before saying:

"I am too." (this surprised the young man, but he said nothing and listened as the older man went on)
"I don't know how much longer he can last the way things are getting. Did you hear that apparently that one Miss-a-Hippie river or whatever is drying up? Oh God, and all the volcanos, and the people in charge. It's an insult to the world in general."

The Male made a noise of agreement on the other side of the line.
"He won't accept our help either." The Canadian sighed. "I think he knows that he's going to die."
"Why isn't he trying to save himself then?" The Prussian asked.
"He's not honestly giving up hope is he?"
"I think he is."

"Idiot." the white haired male shook his head, and sighed once more.
"So that's it then? he's just going to lay down, and die."
"It seems like it. Maybe this new generation though will help him, and get him back on his feet."
"They better, it's their job to fix what others messed up otherwise they'll be having a nonstop purdge."

"Yeah." The Canadian said in almost a whisper, he felt like he was sinking into a black hole.
He grabbed a nearby pillow, and hugged it to his chest.
The blonde wiped away another stray tear coming down his dry cheek.
"I feel so helpless in this."
"I know." the man said on the otherside of the line, the first man didn't argue, because he knew that the man did know what he was talking about.
Then the blonde continued to cry, being comforted by the man on the other line of the phone, and God did he want to go to his brother, but he was away in someplace in Europe that he didn't know, because he needed a vacation.

"Hey, I think Al just go hear do you want to talk to him?"
"Not yet." the blonde said, "I don't want to ruin his vacation, I'll call him later when he gets back to his place." 
"Are you gonna be okay?"
"Not yet. Not until I know he's going to be okay. If he's there go have fun with him. Don't worry about me okay pooh bear?"

"Mattie, are you sure?"
"I promise Gil, I'll call you later if oyu need me to."
The answer was a hesitant: "Okay."
Then they parted the way friends would after a phone call.

The Canadian, starred out the window above his television and watched the sun go down, and began to come up with a plan to help his brother.

Across a sea, and over some hundred hills, two men were at a bar drinking. 
The older one, noticed how much older the younger one looked, but didn't have the heart to ask such a depressing subject on such an awesome night at the bar.