A/N Hey! This is just a little one-shot I came up with, since it was the anniversary of 9/11 a couple days ago. I tried not to make this too depressing, but I'm not sure how well that turned out.

"And so, in conclusion, I am awesome. Thank you." Prussia grinned at his audience, most of who weren't paying attention, and took an exaggerated bow before swaggering over to his seat. There was a touch of scattered applause, mainly from France and Spain, though England was positive they only tuned in for that last bit.

Germany sighed and stood. "Vell, that concludes this Vorld meeting. And, though ve didn't get anything done, ve are all free to leave. Finally." Germany muttered. Though almost no one listened during the actual speech, they all seemed to hear this statement, as the noise went up from the normal 90% to a full 100%.

As other nations walked by his chair, England heard snippets of conversations. He heard how Italy was planning to make pasta for Germany and England, how Spain and Romano were going to have tomatoes for lunch, things like that.

England looked down at the blank sheet in front of him and groaned. That meeting was so bloody useless! All they heard was about how awesome Prussia supposedly was.

Well, England thought, at least they didn't have to listen about how 'the hero is going to save the day'. Where was America anyway? He didn't come to the meeting, I wonder if something happened? Ah, well.

England looked at the sheet in front of him again. There was absolutely nothing he could write down for his boss! You see, England's boss refused to believe that they got nothing done during meetings, so he talked England into writing down notes during the meeting for him. Since his boss threatened him if he came home with nothing on that paper, England decided to jot down a few sentences on how Prussia's 'awesomeness' would save them from world hunger.

He finished his measly report and went to put the date on top. It was September, so 9/ … umm… England looked up to see who else was in the room with him. "Hey China?" he asked the Asian country. "Do you happen to know today's date?"

China thought for a moment before replying, "I believe it's the eleventh, aru."

"Right. Thanks China." China nodded before leaving England alone in the room. Okay, the eleventh. That made today 9/11/12. There, I'm done, now I just have to get this to my bos- wait. It's the 11th? 9/11?! Oh no!

England grabbed all of his stuff and threw it haphazardly into his bag and sprinted out the door.

"Hey! Watch it, aru!" China berated England as he pushed his way out the door. England didn't bother apologizing to China or any of the other nations that he bumped into on his race to the door. He didn't have the time. He had to get to America as soon as possible. Oh God, how could he forget what day it was!

England made it to America's house in record time, not that England bothered to check the time. He rushed up the walkway and paused at the door for only a second, debating whether or not to let himself in or to knock like the gentleman he normally was. He quickly decided now wasn't the time for formalities and opened the door with a slam.

He didn't see America, so he hurried through the house. "America!" he yelled, hoping to God the American would reply. England was huffing and puffing from all the running, but as soon as he heard noise coming from the direction of America, he booked it.

He could hear the T.V., America probably left it on, but the noise he heard didn't sound like talking, more like… sobbing. Utter racking sobs. England blanched. Oh God, was he too late?

He burst into the room with a cry of "America!" England bent over from exhaustion, though, before he could see the nation. He took deep breathes to steady himself before looking up at the scene before him.

America was sitting cross-legged at the edge of his bed staring in front of himself, right where the T.V was. And he was a complete wreck, tears streaming down his face, face scrunched up, eyes red, nose running, and making a horrid noise that was the sobbing noise England had heard.

"America, are you okay?" England asked, voice full of concern for the younger nation.

America was still looking surprised from the sudden entrance, but replied, "H-huh? Oh, uh yeah, I'm f-fine. I-it's just," America paused to wipe under his eyes and take a few shaky breathes. Then he pointed to the T.V. and started yelling really fast, "I-it's just… Peggy got in a car accident and lost all her memory, so she completely forgets her boyfriend, Ryan!" America saw the incredulous look on England's face and hastened to add, "But that's not all! She was driving to meet Ryan for a date, and that's the date that Ryan was going to propose to her! And! She was talking on the phone where she just learned from her mother that Terry is her long-lost twin!"

England just kept staring incredulously. Then, he let out a huff of breathe, and walked over to the bed and lowered himself onto the edge, next to America. "You were watching a soap opera?" England asked calmly.

"Yeah…" America replied, shifting uncomfortably.

"Of course you were." England let out a sigh, and rubbed his forehead.

America looked over at England. "So what's up, dude? Why'd you come running in here?"

Now it was England's turn to shift uncomfortably. "Oh, um, no reason," England tried and failed and at acting nonchalant.

America raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, dude, tell me!" America elbowed England, grinning.

England weakly returned the smile, then cleared his throat. "Um, I just, noticed the date, and since you weren't at the meeting, I-I guess I got slightly worried," England mumbled.

America's grin faded. "Oh," he said quietly. America looked down at his hands.

England shifted a little closer to America on the bed. "How are you holding up?" England asked, though it was a bit obvious that America wasn't doing well at all, England just wanted America to talk about it. He knew from personal experience that when you share your feelings, however cliche it was, you felt better. And right now, England wanted nothing more than for America to smile, to let out that booming laugh of his, to be happy.

At England's question, America let out a spiteful laugh. "Oh, I'm doing just wonderful," he spat.

England sighed. This was gonna be hard. He pleaded, "Talk to me." America ignored him. England could've rolled his eyes at the nation's childishness. He grabbed America's chin in his hand and yanked it to face him. He got his face close to America's, their noses were nearly touching, and demanded in a strong, clear voice as if speaking to a child, "Talk. To. Me."

America blinked in shock at the sudden motion and close proximity. Then he sighed, and let his defiant mask fall, and England could easily see the pain America was feeling. America moved a bit away from England before speaking. "Fine. You wanna know how I feel? Useless. Absolutely and completely useless! I should've been there! I should've helped out the firefighters, the police, whoever! But I didn't. I was out in California at a party. While hundreds of my people died, I- I was at a party!" Tears were now flowing freely from America. He was holding back sobs with shaky breaths.

"And I felt them. Their terror. I could hear them, screaming inside my head! And begging, begging for someone to save them. Begging for a hero. The one time, I was actually needed!" At this point, America seemed to realize his emotions were getting out of control. He continued in a voice that had no emotion instead. "The one time, a hero was needed, and I missed it, because I was too busy partying. I got on the next plane to New York. Had to pull a few strings to get it done too. But, by the time I touched down, there was nothing left but ashes and smoke." America was speaking in a voice that was so detached, it worried England more than his emotion-filled one. "Ashes and smoke..."

England was silent for a while. He wanted, so bad, to comfort America, but he just couldn't think of what to say to that. He settled for capturing the other nation in a tight hug.

America tensed up. "Hey, England, dude, what are you-"

"Shh!" England cut him off. "Their are points in your life, points where you're feeling so bad, that you just need a hug, no matter about who its from. It can be your best friend or your worst enemy, but both would feel comforting because all you need is to know that someone, anyone out there, cares how you feel. Cares about you."

America relaxed into England's arms and sighed. "Yeah, you're right," America agreed, and then rested his head on England's shoulder. "But just so you know, you're not my worst enemy. That's that commie-bastard."

England cracked a smile. "Comforting," he replied sarcastically. Then he separated himself from America. "So this is why you missed the meeting?"

America stared blankly at a spot on the wall over England's shoulder when he replied, "Yeah. I just- just couldn't- I'd probably end up breaking down and I- I didn't want any of my friends to see me like that, and thought it'd be easier to just stay home by myself."

England couldn't help but snort. "Well that was stupid." America's eyes snapped to him with a confused and slightly hurt expression on his face. Here he was explaining his inner-most thoughts, and England had the nerve to laugh at him! And America was just beginning to trust him again too!

Before America could really get angry, England hurriedly explained, "When you're in a bad mood, isn't it all you want to be happy?" America simply shrugged in response, slightly confused. England gave a small smile. "And, knowing you, wouldn't you be so much happier with your friends? With people that you love?"

America was silent for a moment, then he sighed. "Yeah. I guess you're right. I'd be much happier with all my friends around me," America admitted quietly, but he didn't return the smile. "But the meeting's already over by now. It's not like everyone's wanna get together again just for me." America's voice took on a glum quality.

England had nothing to say to this. The nations constantly fought at meetings, they wouldn't be too keen to put up with each other twice in one day. He sighed. "Well, maybe we could call some people, I'm sure a few would be willing to-" England was a french accented voice.

"Amerique? I am here!"

"Ve~! Me too! And I brought pasta!"

Many more exclamations were heard of who exactly was there. England made a few calculations in his head, and he realized it was everyone from the meeting plus some.

England and America looked at each other, each had eyes wide in surprise. Apparently, neither had organized this. America rose up from the bed, England followed him up and out of the bedroom

"Guys?" America asked confusion clear in his voice. "What's going on?"

"Vat do you think? The awesome me came to cheer you up. Oh, and all these guys tagged along."

"To cheer me…" America trailed off. "Dudes… I-I mean you really…?" America couldn't quite seem to find the words.

"Da. For you." Russia agreed.

America's face quickly transformed into his normal look of pure joy. He didn't seem to care that the 'commie-bastard' was the one who said it, they had come for him! "HAHAHAHA! You dudes are too cool! A hero like me couldn't ask for any better!" America then began talking to everyone, and every once in a while, you'd hear his laugh above the noise of all the nations socializing.

England stood at the door to the bedroom. He had been left behind. Forgotten. He watched America, looking for any signs of depression. He couldn't see any. Apparently they did a better job of cheering America up then him. With a sigh, England walked across the room, towards the front door. He wasn't needed here anymore. Actually, he probably wasn't needed her in the first place! England knew that he should be happy that America was better now, but he couldn't help the bitter emotions that gnawed at his soul. England was through the people and about to lift his hand to the door handle when someone called to him.

"Where are you going?" It was America. No one else had noticed England's almost-escape. But, his voice sounded so betrayed and… vulnerable.

England turned to face him. America's voice looked the same as his voice sounded. England stuttered, "Well I- I mean," he gestured to the door. "I just- I," He couldn't seem to be able to lie to America while he was wearing that face. "I didn't think you'd need me anymore, so I thought I'd just-" He was cut off.

"Please, don't leave me." America whispered, nearly begging. His eyes searched deep into England's.

England wouldn't dare break him more than he was already. "Never," he agreed.

America gave a faint trace of a smile. "And, uh, England?" he asked, wringing his hands nervously.

"What is it?" England asked urgently, eager to get a smile back on America's face.

"Thank you." America looked straight into England's eyes, into his soul. And England knew what America meant. Not just for not leaving, not just for coming today, but for everything. Those two words were for raising him, for now, and for everything in between, spoken genuinely.

England gave the American a smile. "Anything for you." And England realized, in that moment, it was true.