"What are you talking about? America is not gonna be destroyed."

"Never? Rome was destroyed, Greece was destroyed, Persia was destroyed, Spain was destroyed. All great countries are destroyed. Why not yours? How much longer do you think your country will last? Forever?"

-Survivor Guilt by Rise Against

We All Fall Down

They were all so old.

That's what you would see if you looked at the nations. Age. And lots of it. Despite everyone looking like a supermodel in their mid-twenties, oldness just oozed off of them. China, England, and France flaunted their age like a badge of honour. "I'm older so listen to this." "I have the wisdom of millenia so I'm right." "I'm your big brother so come here." Annoying phrases often used by parents to their disobedient children, or to their disobedient colonies, as it were.

Then there were nations like Greece and Japan, who didn't show off their age, but reeked of it anyways. Japan had a tendency to occasionally walk with a stoop in his back, or complain of aching in his bones, while Greece, in the few conversations he had, always spoke in that old-person way. That is, you could practically hear the 'back in my day' before everything he said, even if he didn't actually say it. Austria was another one of those, though it may have been his stuck-up mannerisms more than anything else.

Then you had countries like Hungary, Prussia, Poland and Turkey. Who were as old as sin but didn't act it. Who still chased each other around, spoke flippantly and teased unsuspecting Italians as if they were six-year-olds on the playground.

Then there were countries like Spain, the Italies, and the Nordics. Countries who, in everything they did, had that look in their eyes. As carefree and oblivious as the Mediterranean countries seemed, they all had a distinctly…haunted look in their eyes. Their gaze was deep, almost bottomless, and people could accuse Spain of being an oblivious nitwit and the Italies of being air-headed fools until they were blue in the face. One look into their eyes would prove them wrong. Even Korea had a similar look in his eyes. A look that faded and blazed and faded and blazed depending on the time of day, or if Japan was around. The Nordics were the same way. An aura of centuries of hurt and fighting just surrounded them. Sometimes you didn't even have to meet their eyes. It was just there.

There were countries where the aura of hurt rolled off of them more then the actual age did. The Baltics, sometimes England, often England's brothers, India, to name a few. A combination of all the different indicators of age. A stoop in their back, a bowed head, a haunted look in their eye as they tried to hide behind carefree personas and silly antics. When it got bad, they were painful to be around. Just painful.

Then there were countries that were simply not old. Or, at least, not old in nation-sense. America and Canada being the foremost in that group. In the collection of centuries and millennia-old nations, this crowd seemed to exude naivety.

That aside, if we looked into Canada's memories, we would see that it extended farther back than most people would realize. He did not always represent the land that is now Canada. Previous to him was a woman with olive-toned skin and beads in her hair and paint all over her body. A woman who grew old and stooped and who faded from memory long after she was considered dead by the rest of the nation world. As such, most would assume that Canada's, or rather, Matthew's memories began with his meeting with France. This was the point where the memories, and thus, the life, of most nations in the new world began. Because with the arrival of the Europeans came the arrival of a life where they interacted with their own kind and memories became that much more vibrant and brutal.

However, anyone who assumed this about Canada would have forgotten something crucial. That Canada was found by Europeans other than France, way before France. That his first, very vivid memories were of being in the company of bearded, helmeted men often compared with barbarians. That he recalled his first 'civilized' years as being full of bloodshed, fighting, and war. That when France had first picked him up he'd been a wild child who had bared his teeth and stabbed a spear through the Frenchman's chest.

But most would continue to assume that Canada was a young, innocent nation. His history devoid of the bloodshed that drenched others. An American invasion here, a Red River Rebellion there, but all in all, Canada's history was as peaceful as its nation. That in itself was enough to feed his reputation as a soft youngling. One who couldn't possibly fathom the weight of age. Despite the fact that his memories stretched 3,000 years into the past. This was Canada. A rare type of nation that was as old as any of the Europeans but did not display it in any noticeable fashion.

Then there was America, who people often assumed was older simply because he was more outgoing and always took a protective stance towards Canada, but was actually significantly younger. Or at least, in nation standards he was. Which simply meant that his first 'memory' was significantly later than Canada's. America was too far south to have been visited by Vikings so his memories stretched only about 600 years into the past, give or take. A very, very short life in the eyes of the nations of the world.

America was young. So, so young. It was this youth that fed his refreshing optimism, silly ideas, and extreme sense of justice. The fierce patriotism, pride, and feeling of heroism in the American people was one that could only have come from not having everything you had torn down multiple times. Not having person after person stab you in the back. Not having to watch as your 'allies' took turns spitting on your mutilated body.

America had experienced hardship, but he had never been destroyed.

"It's only a matter of time," say the nations of the Old World. Regarding his youthful energy and devil-may-care attitude with a sense of nostalgia (because they had all once had it). "He will be destroyed, one-way or another," they say.

And his older-than-it-seems brother watches in plain sight where no one can see him and gnaws at his bottom lip.

Will he be destroyed too? Or does the destruction of his French culture at the hands of the English count? Was that enough to pass as the 'rite-of-passage' that nations had to go through? The rite of being destroyed? He wonders, occasionally. But just as often he wonders about his brother. His brother doesn't wonder about himself, because the 'destruction' has never truly reached North America and the only reason Canada wonders is age.

But his brother is so, so young. And now he's so, so big.

Big like Rome. Like Ancient Greece. Like England, France, Spain, Japan, China…..

"All great countries are destroyed…"

Canada swallows thickly.

The Europeans chuckle knowingly.

The Asians observe in reserved silence. Patient. Waiting.

The entire world watches in anticipation and a grim sort of satisfaction.

"Is everyone here now?" chirps the self-appointed 'hero' as he takes his place at the podium in the large meeting room. "Awesome! Let's begin the meeting, alright? I have a whole lot of ideas and plans to improve the world situation right now, so listen up!"

Only a matter of time…

I was minding my own business, listening to the new Rise Against CD I had just bought, when all of a sudden Survivor Guilt came on and I literally FROZE. As soon as that beginning monologue finished I was like FANFIC. NAO. And, yeah. This happened. :P

Sorry, it was kinda crappy. I wrote it in like five seconds. The following chapters will be much better, as they won't be told in this choppy format. (I'll be sticking to the format I used in the second half of this).

Oh, yeah. This isn't a oneshot.

But I have a history of bad update time so...hehe, cross your fingers. I shouldn't have started a story that I don't have a hard and fast plan for, but I couldn't resist! Darn you Rise Against!

Oh! Yeah, 'Vinland' which is an area in what is now Labrador, was discovered by Vikings in 1000 BC. Yeah, I knew about it but was surprised it was that long ago. I thought it was like, 1300 AD or something. My jaw literally dropped when I looked it up. I was like 'Mattie's how old?"

That said, stick around for the rest of the story? It'll get better, pinky promise! Oh, and the chapters will be longer. This is just a wee little prologue. ;P

xoxo, natcat5 ;p