Depressed Hetalia/Worst Nightmares

War: Remembrance Day Special

Canada slid down his wall, put his head between his knees, and began to cry.
November 11. His day. Tears slid down his cheeks and he rubbed his forehead; of course, nobody would remember nor care...he was all alone, left with the memories, the remembering, the sadness, the pain. He couldn't take another Remembrance Day. This was his battle, his war, and he was losing hard. He opened his mouth to whimper, and reached for the tiny handgun he kept in his bedside table. Nobody would remember.

He put the barrel to his temple, shut his eyes, curled his finger around the trigger. This would just be yet another one of the gunshots that haunted him on this day; he was a soldier, not able to withstand life. Just as he ceased his sobbing and started to squeeze the trigger, there was a knock on his front door. Surprised, he shakily sauntered down the stairs and opened the door...There, chewing on his lip and shifting on his heels, stood America.

"Dude...." America whispered, "I'll never forget." he yanked Canada into a crushing bear hug. Canada was in shock for a second, before throwing his arms around his brother and crying even harder. "Why don't I...make you pancakes...and you can just...chill I guess, bro.." America said quietly, hesitating before pulling away from Canada and wandering into the kitchen. Canada squeaked and went to his living room. Maybe the war wasn't over after all.

Canada hadn't even sat down before there was another knock on his door. Confused, the Canadian hurried to the door and opened it.
"I'm very sorry you have to go through this pain, da," Russia stood in the doorway, arms behind his back, looking down at Canada with true sadness in his eyes. "It's terrible. Lest we all forget....you're so brave." Canada blinked, staring at Russia, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Russia shook Canada's hand, bowed his head, and was gone.
In awe, the Canadian turned to go back to his living room, but was tapped on the shoulder. He barely got a chance to turn around before France engulfed him in a warm hug. "Canada.....too much to say." France hugged Canada tighter, and Canada hugged his somewhat-father back.

"Papa....you're here.." Canada whispered, and France nodded.

"I'll help America with your food, Angleterre should be here momentarily." No sooner had he said that, England waved to Canada while walking up the driveway. He approached Canada, then shook his hand and wrapped the Canadian in a loving hug. Canada pulled his fathers close and began to cry again....but this time, from happiness. People were remembering....he wasn't being forgotten. He was loved. People cared. Canada felt like the war he'd been fighting in was starting to end. He was winning. He was happy on the day that made him saddest. Sun shone through his clouds as all the countries visited him; darkness in him cleared as all his visitors lined up and let Canada attach poppies to their coats.

"Lest we forget," Canada whispered at 11:59, just before the end of November 11. "The forgotten will always be remembered."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So this is a less depressing chapter, more happy, but I felt it was appropriate (given the date). I want everyone out there who lost someone to war or with a soldier/veteran in their family to know, real heroes wear camouflage, not capes. I lost my grandfather because of long term-effects of being a soldier, so I'd like to devote this to him. And everyone out there,
Lest we forget.