The beginning of this fan fiction is historically true, but later on it drifts into my own little world. So be warned that this won't help you on that history test when school starts back. I'm contemplating whether or not I'll continue this, but for now it's just a super long one-shot about America joining the war and Italy's doubts.

WARNING: Russia is a creeper. China and Japan have bad accents. And France gets his butt kicked- bad.

Please review!

The Truth About War

November 1941- at America's house

"Dad, I'm starving," Connecticut finally said at last. He lifted his pale blue eyes to meet his father's at the end of the bare table. The forty-eight states and Hawaii, a child America was planning to adopt as soon as he got the country back on its feet, shifted uncomfortably. America dropped his head on his arms. Virginia reached out to pat him on the shoulder, but when her stomach growled as well, she silently drew her hand back.

After taking a deep breath, America raised his head. "I'm sorry, guys. I… I wish we didn't have to ration like this. I'm hungry too, and…." When his broke, he buried his face in his hands again.

New York stood up, his deep blue eyes brimming with tears. "This is my fault!" he burst. "I let the stock market crash, and now everyone's hurting!"

"It's not your fault," Virginia said quietly, casting a worried glance at America. It only hurt him more to hear New York speak like that, she knew. "Sit down, New York. Nebraska, how has corn production coming along?"

Nebraska blinked in surprise, then smiled. "Kansas and I've been working hard this year, and things are looking good, so I hope we can start up sales soon."

"No one has money for food," America bitterly sighed, cutting off Virginia's attempt to lighten the dismal mood. "Keep working, okay? New York, how are things up there?"

The dark haired boy frowned. "Not as well as I hoped. But we have opened soup kitchens. Pennsylvania and Rhode Island came up with it, and so far it's seeming to work well."

"We opened soup kitchens too," Michigan quietly said. He sighed and ran a hand through his pale hair. "This has put such a damper on car sales- and right when I had just come up with a brand new model."

Texas rolled his eyes. "A bunch o' death traps. Horses are better!"

"Guys," Delaware interjected before they could get into another transportation argument. The second oldest turned back to America. "I've been thinking, Dad, that if we get involved in the war in Europe, maybe we could start more jobs."

"But wouldn't we only use more money to boost the army?" America asked blandly.

"Yes, but-"

"We can do just fine on our own, Delaware. In case you don't remember, it was the first war in Europe that got us in this mess!" Alabama hotly snapped, narrowing her eyes at her brother. Delaware rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Don't roll your eyes at me!"

"Stop arguing with me, then! Just think! We could open factories to build planes and ships…."

The Carolina twins perked up at that. Delaware continued, turning to Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Michigan. "You three can open up your factories again and start productions right away. New York, Massachusetts, Vermont, and New Hampshire could work together on fixing up the stock market, and the rest of us would bump up crop production! We'd be on our feet in no time."

"I don't wike stinky corn. I wike hamburgers!"

Everyone in the room turned to Hawaii, smiling bright. Her smile missed a few teeth here and there, but it was as wide as the toddler could manage. She stood up in her chair to see everyone better. "I grow pineapples and sweet sugar! Dey're much better dan corn!"

America quirked a smile at her. "How about I treat you and everyone else to a hamburger once we're rich again?"

Hawaii's eyes lit up. She punched the air. "Yay, hamburgers!"

The states shared her grin and echoed her proud cry. "Hamburgers!"

Virginia, smiling, looked outside at the snow quietly falling around the White House. They were poor, they were hungry, but they were a family. The smile dropped off her face when Uncle Britain filled her mind. He's family too. And Uncle France, and Uncle Canada…. They're all fighting, despite the depression. I hope they're okay….

((((()))))

Once the states had left for home (California had taken Hawaii back to her islands), America sat back in his favorite swivel chair and spun around a bit. He was more than just hungry- he felt so tired, like an old man. His back hurt, his eyes stung- he was just miserable. Even spinning around like a maniac didn't seem as fun as it used to be. He needed to be in Europe fighting alongside Britain, to be a hero.

But he couldn't just leave his kids in the mess he'd caused. Being a hero to them counted more than being a hero just for show. Despite arguing amongst themselves, America knew those kids would fight to the bitter end for their dreams. They proved that in 1861 when Confederacy popped out of nowhere and brainwashed half of them.

America grimaced, thinking back to that slick man in his fancy suit with Virginia standing proud at his side- Stupid Confederacy! Do not flirt with my daughter!

America would never know what Virginia saw in that phony. If she hadn't fallen for the jerk, her siblings in the south wouldn't have wanted her to start a country with him and let them in on it. Of course, Delaware, ever the hero like his father, did not approve at all and convinced the northern states to declare war on the south.

"Snap out of it," he grimly told himself before the horrific images of his children battered and bloody came to mind. "I was thinking about those dopes in Europe!"

Back to Europe- Germany, Italy, and Japan are the ones making such a fuss, aren't they. Geez. Didn't Germany get his butt kicked last war?

Italy and Japan for allies, though? That blew America's mind. He wondered how in the world someone like Germany could stand someone like Italy- practically his opposite. Japan had stayed silent over in the east for years. What was he doing, helping start a war?

A knock at the door interrupted his train of thought once again. "Come on in!" he called, expecting Delaware come to try and convince of war again. Instead, it was just his secretary. "What's up?" he asked, trying to sound peppy. She didn't answer right away- something was wrong.

"You have a call from Britain, Mr. America. He said it was urgent."

"Speak of the devil," he muttered, breaking into a run towards the phone. "Hello? Britain?"

The person on the other line harshly coughed before answering with a craggy voice. "America? What are you still doing over there?"

America sighed. He suddenly hoped he hadn't just told Britain how awful things were on his side of the Atlantic. Of course, just his luck, Britain did notice. "America, please tell me you aren't planning on staying over there in a condition like yours!"

"Stop being such a worrywart! Geez, so I'm a little pressed for money- no big deal."

"No big deal?" Britain burst. America knew he was throwing his hands up in exasperation, readying to enter "lecture" mode. However, before he could, America interrupted him with an apologetic sigh.

"It is a big deal. I know, alright? The kids are keeping strong, but…."

Britain also sighed. "I'm sorry to ask this of you while you've got problems of your own, but we need your help, America. Japan has conquered half of China and Germany and Italy are doing the same to East Europe. That bearded fool France got himself admitted into the hospital yesterday after an attack from Germany."

Just as earnest as Delaware on this whole war business…. "I can't. If I get involved, it'll just be more trouble on the kids. But how about I hand you off some cannons and stuff for a little cash? If you can't manage that, you can just pay me back later."

"America… how bad is the depression there?"

He was silent for a moment, making sure that his voice would stay strong. The last thing he wanted to do was break down in front of Britain. "Enough that Connecticut told me he was honest-to-gosh starving today."

Now Britain was rubbing his forehead, entering "worried-older-brother" mode. "Everyone over here is like that, America. We're all hungry, we're all terrified and we're all waiting on a hero."

"Don't play that card on me!" America yelled, finally snapping. "I'm staying neutral in this! I'm not going to lure Germany over here! I will not do that to my kids! You convinced me the first time to help you guys, and look where it's brought us! We're starving to death in the shadow of our trade market, hunting high and low for food and a place to sleep because the banks have stolen our houses to try and pay everyone else back first! You got yourselves into this- get yourselves out of it!"

"America!" Britain pleaded, his pride giving way to desperation. "Please! We can't win unless you come and help us! Germany will enslave us all- he's murdering thousands everyday! We can't keep this up very much longer without you!"

"What am I going to do?" he coldly demanded. "I'm the stupid American, the rebellious little brother who knows nothing about anything but himself. You say so yourself!"

"Daddy?" a new, frightened voice echoed from the empty room. America turned in shame to see Maryland, Virginia, and Delaware.

"I have to go. I'll discuss this with you later, Britain."

He was silent. The line went dead on Britain's side first. The instant he put the phone up, Maryland ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Tears filled with dozens of fears and worries soaked the side of his jacket. America pulled Virginia and Delaware into the embrace as well.

The hug almost reminded him of his days as Britain's colony. He, Britain, France, and Canada were always together, holding strong and supporting each other.

America wanted the best for his kids. If that meant war, he would go to Europe. But right now, standing in the hall of a darkened, dismal White House weeping with his kids… that was okay too, he figured.

"I love you, Daddy," Maryland mumbled into his shoulder.

"I love you too," he whispered.

((((()))))

December 1941- on the battlefield

Italy stared out at the countryside before him. The vast land seemed to stretch on forever- and so did the bodies. Bile rose up in his throat, seeing the hundreds of fallen soldiers staining the beautiful French land. Big brother's land has become a graveyard…, Italy dismally thought, reaching for his rosary beads in his pocket. Germany hadn't seen the point in praying over the fallen of their enemy. Italy himself wasn't even sure himself why he did, but it eased his conscious just the tiniest bit.

But he was still on Germany's side. Germany had helped him when his country was facing terrible times after the first world war, had helped him off the dirt and onto his feet again. Germany, who looked so much like….

"Italy, we're moving out," Germany's stern voice called out behind him. Italy whispered a quick prayer, then ran after the troops prepared to journey further into his big brother's land. They had defeated France himself just days before. Until he got better, Britain and an unfamiliar blonde named Canada were protecting the country.

They wouldn't last long, Italy knew. Then again, France and Britain were allied with Russia and China, two very large and very powerful countries in the east. In that sense, their troops were surrounded by the opposing forces on two sides. Russia was a mighty force to be reckoned with. Italy remembered the terrifying tales of Russia's conquests and General Winter that Austria had told him as a child. Japan had also told them of China, his older brother. He was strong with an infallible will- hard to take down, but not impossible. Japan had already conquered much of his land and was preparing to take on the other Pacific nations.

Japan had told them his plans to seize a small island territory of America's called Hawaii. It would be easy since Hawaii was so small, and would prove to be a good midway point onto America's land when the time to conquer it came. Japan would attack him from the Pacific while Germany and Italy, after defeating Europe, came from the Atlantic.

Are we doing the right thing…? Taking over so much, destroying so many lives…. I don't like war. I like pasta. And painting. And… and girls. Girls are nice.

Catching up with Germany at the lead, Italy plastered a smile on his face and tried to start a conversation about the French girls they'd meet in Paris. Germany, as usual, only nodded once then completely zoned him out. He would have listened to every word, then would have convinced Italy to do what he believed was right.

Of course, back then, Italy didn't talk about girls and paintings. He told Austria, Hungary, and him about his dreams to be a great country like Grandpa Rome had been. Austria would smile sadly and pat him on the head. Hungary would tell him to keep dreaming like that, then return to her work, never truly meaning it. But him….

"Are you okay, Italy?" Germany asked, concerned when Italy's smile had faded and his gaze dropped to his muddy boots. Germany didn't believe the fake smile for a second. "We'll find you a cute girl who can make pasta. Don't worry."

Italy grinned. "Germany?"

"Yes?"

"Is it lunch time, yet? I kind of want some pasta now…."

This must be right. Grandpa Rome had to fight to get to where he was, and so do I.

But I don't like fighting or killing. I like… I like…. I liked the way it was before- working with Germany and Austria, not being so alone….

I want to go home.

((((()))))

"Japan-sama, the fleet is in position."

Japan turned away from the map he'd been studying and nodded. "Hai. We attack in two days. Prepare the troops a fine meal. We have much work to do after tomorrow. I have feeling America will fight back."

The soldier bowed and turned away to find the cook. Japan looked back to his map. America's land was vast and prosperous. He had many different resources on his land and so much history staining the soil. Japan knew better than to underestimate America. He had been a fierce adversary to the forces in Europe during the first world war, and if he joined this war, he would no doubt uphold that reputation.

Hawaii would soon be his. Japan rolled up the map, hearing his troops begin their meal.

America's land will soon be ours.

((((()))))

"Stop your pacing," France softly chided. "How can I rest with you stomping about?"

"You can rest when I'm gone," Britain quietly countered. But he did stop pacing and sat on the bed beside France's. "Are you feeling better?"

France cocked an eyebrow. "Concern from you? How troubling. That's going to make recovering much harder."

Britain sent him a scowl and put his chin on his palms. France noticed his troubled gaze and quietly guessed, "America isn't coming to our aid?"

He shook his head. All of a sudden, a team of nurses wheeled a new patient in the room. Britain moved out of their way, cringing at the man gasping for breath. In mere minutes, however, the very same nurses pulled a sheet over his face. France closed his eyes, face scrunched in pain. Britain called over one of the nurses and requested he be given more medication.

It wasn't the kind of relief France needed, Britain knew, but it was the next best thing. France kept his eyes closed. For a moment, Britain believed he had fallen asleep again, but he suddenly said, "America just needs time. He won't ignore the call of family. You raised him better than that, Britain."

Britain didn't say anything in return. Instead, he picked up his gun sitting up beside the wall and muttered his goodbye. France's arm trembled when he raised it in farewell, then fell back to his side like a dead weight, his face going pale.

…I must try again. This cannot go on much longer.

"Nurse, may I use this phone?"

((((()))))

"It'll be for a little while, I promise. Just to see how France is doing, then I'll be right back home," America explained, sure to look at Delaware as he finished. "Virginia and Delaware are in charge. No arguing. Texas?"

The tall boy looked up. "Yeah, Dad?"

"Please don't try to build on Mexico's land again. He chews me out and I have to pay him. We don't have that kind of money anymore, so don't help make an enemy, alright?" America said firmly, narrowing his eyes like Britain always did to him. And just like America had always done to Britain after this, Texas gave him a goofy grin.

America chuckled and rose from his seat, forty-nine children instantly rushing up to him for one last goodbye hug before he left. Virginia and Delaware contained them while America left, jogging out to his plane. It had been a birthday present from the Carolina twins a couple years back.

Said twins were also hard at work on gathering up a fleet with Virginia, Delaware, and Georgia, in case America's visit triggered a sudden want to join the war. He was proud of their ingenuity and want to help, but he wasn't planning on joining the war right yet.

For a month, he'd thought things over and come up with a fine plan to help Britain and the others without directly aiding them. America would send them supplies and guns. After the war was over, Britain and the others would send him new ones and cash. If this war got any worse, America would be back on his feet in no time. Once he got to Buckingham, America would propose his plan, give France a quick visit, then rush back home before anything too drastic occurred.

The flight across the Atlantic was peaceful- really, just what America had needed. He took his time arriving at Britain's place, slowly soaking in the thrill of flying again. The ocean water wasn't nearly as blue as the ocean on California's land, but it was beautiful all the same. He had grown up on beaches around this ocean, had crossed it many times to visit Britain. It was near and dear to his heart.

It ended all too soon. The instant America landed on Britain's land, he wanted to turn tail and head back home. The smell of gunpowder and death was overwhelming- almost to the point that he choked on it. There seemed to be a ceasefire- or perhaps the battle had just ended, the winning side being Britain. America pocketed his goggles and jogged into the dying fray. British troops recognized him instantly, standing if they could to salute him. America returned the salute as he ran. The other troops were different. Their accents were foreign and harsh, and they scowled at America as he passed.

"America!"

He skidded to a halt, seeing Britain shove his way over to him. "I knew you'd come, baby brother!"

"Hey hey hey," he complained, peeling off Britain's grateful hug, "keep your dignity, man! Not in front of the guys!"

"We just pushed back the Germans. Canada lured Italy back to his country with an attack on Sicily. Russia was just here a moment ago- ah! There he is," Britain said, dragging America over to a tall man. Russia loomed over the siblings, a strange air about him. But despite his harrowing appearance, Russia smiled when he turned to meet their newest guest. He seemed right at home in the cold weather under his thick, long coat and wrapped in his scarf- both blood spattered. "Russia, this is America, the backup we've been discussing."

"Back-up? Britain, I'm not-"

"Dinner!" an accented voice called out, interrupting them. A short dark haired man banged a pan with his ladel. "Tonight we have Lo Mein!"

A half-hearted joyful cry erupted from the troops. "I don't see France's troops," America suddenly realized. "Are they staying with him?"

"Yes. They and some of Canada's troops are staying with him in case Germany comes back. That was China, by the way, with dinner," Britain introduced, still sure America had come to their rescue. "Where're your troops, America?"

"Back home," he emphasized, hoping Britain would just let it drop. "I told you, I just came to discuss the Lend-Lease Act. The Carolina twins have been working on some new stuff."

Britain clenched his jaw. "Well, at any rate, let's head back to Buckingham, shall we? Russia, will you be coming?"

"I want to meet our new guest, America. Of course I will be coming," Russia said pleasantly, completely oblivious to the fact he was spattered in blood. America's eyes widened at this strange man's airy attitude. Russia noticed him staring at his coat and frowned. "Oh… pardon me. I apologize for my unruly appearance. Lithuania!"

A young man popped his head up amongst the throng of soldiers and waded through the sea of camo over to Russia. "Yes, sir?" he asked.

"Could you take this coat to be cleaned? I'll be having dinner with Britain and America this evening."

Lithuania cast them a sidelong, worried glance, but nodded to Russia anyway. He handed off the coat, smiling sweetly at Lithuania. "Have a wonderful meal, Mr. Russia," the brunette muttered, scurrying away.

"My subordinate," Russia explained, the sickeningly sweet smile still plastered on his face. America was really starting to feel the heebie-jeebies radiating from this guy. Britain seemed just as uneasy, but didn't say anything. Russia must have been a good ally to have so much forced respect from Britain.

Britain nodded, not meeting Russia's eyes and started detailing their objectives to America.

((((()))))

"Italy!"

The brunette nearly dropped his rosary beads in surprise when he heard his brother's voice. A bright, honest smile spread out on his face. "Romano!" he cried happily, running to meet him.

Romano put his hands on his hips, demanding to know why his half of the land was covered in slaughtered Canadians. Italy's smile faded in an instant, but Romano only shook his head, wryly grinning. "We're getting somewhere, Italy! Now, if we could just chase that stupid wurst-eating Germany out of Europe, we'll be fine!"

While Romano started up a round of violently bad-mouthing Germany again, Italy rolled his eyes and said his farewell. Romano was always a sight to behold, the spitting image of their Grandpa Rome. Italy knew full well he didn't like the fighting either, but who could say no to more power? They were almost there. A few battles more, a few couple thousand deaths, and they'd be as powerful as Grandpa Rome had been. Italy could eat pasta and work on his paintings everyday once they won the war.

But was it worth hurting so many others? Big Brother France was still in so much pain. Austria, also on Germany's side, stood by and watched as they took over Hungary's land. It was like everything Italy believed in was being ripped apart at the seems. He was a coward, he knew. Germany would smack him upside the head if Italy told him the truth.

He couldn't do that. He owed Germany his life. But he also loved Big Brother France and Hungary. What would Romano do when Germany headed south, ready to take over Spain's land? But Italy supposed Germany would allow him that glory. Japan would get half of Asia and the Pacific. Germany would get the other half of Asia and all of Europe, aside from those countries south of Italy, which would be his. They were discussing North and South America, who would get those, but Italy really didn't care. He just wanted the war to hurry and end. Italy liked his boot-shaped peninsula just fine. He and Romano had always lived there; made it their home despite having to grow up under the Habsburg's and Spain's control.

Suddenly, one of the figures on the battlefield got up to their knees. Romano and Italy froze. Someone's still alive down there?

The blonde shakily readjusted his glasses and tried to stand, leaning on his rifle for support. "Canada," Italy guessed. Something inside him tugged at him, told him to rush to his aid. But they were enemies.

Canada fell and didn't try to get back up. Italy somehow knew he was crying at his defeat, probably thinking that he was finished. Like Big Brother. Canada looked just like him, almost. It was evident he was related to France as well. That meant, in a sense, that he was Italy's family too.

"What are you doing?" Romano asked, alarmed, when Italy started running towards him. Shaking his head in exasperation, Romano took off after him.

Italy held his tongue and knelt down at Canada's side. The blonde hazily looked up at him, the streaks on his cheeks drying in an instant. He must have thought Italy had come to finish him off.

Instead, Italy grabbed his arm and slung it over his shoulders. Romano and Canada were stunned into silence. "Romano, could you smuggle us a tent and some medicine?" Italy asked, starting to carry Canada away from the mass slaughter.

Romano stiffly nodded and ran back to camp. Italy's side was starting to feel wetter and wetter with Canada's blood, making him grimace. Canada didn't have long unless the two brothers could save him. If they didn't….

"Why're you helping me?" Canada whispered. Italy almost didn't hear him at first.

"You're related to Big Brother France, aren't you? You're my cousin or something like that. I can't turn my back on family."

Canada sighed. "I don't think we're technically related. France only raised me with Britain."

Italy shrugged the shoulder Canada wasn't leaning on. "Eh, it still counts. You're from North America, aren't you? It's a lot bigger than Europe, isn't it. I'd like to visit it one day. Maybe once the war is over, we can all visit each other! You can come by my place and I'll make you some pasta. Pasta is delizioso!"

Making his slow way away from the scene and away from camp where his and Germany's army were, Italy rambled, afraid to look down and see Canada dead. He had gone completely limp and deathly silent. Sometimes Italy paused, just to try and listen for breathing. It would tear him apart if Canada died now. Romano soon came after, carrying a medical bag. It had to have been stolen. Italy was both proud and sad that Romano would steal for his sake.

Italy finally put Canada down on the ground. The grass was hard and brown from the winter, but Italy was only glad snow hadn't fallen lately on their land. "I'll get him better," Romano said softly. "You look out for stupid Germany."

Italy nodded, finally noticing his shaking hands. He cringed every time Canada cried out in pain- but that was still a blessing. It meant he was still alive.

After a while, Italy found himself on his knees, clutching his rosary beads again. They were his only comfort in this war, reminding him that the good Lord was still watching from above. When the sky broke apart to shower icy rain on them, Italy wondered if the raindrops were His tears washing away the blood shed on the land.

The war wasn't even war anymore, Italy realized. It was hell.

((((()))))

"What do you mean, we've lost connection with the Canadian forces in Italy?" Britain burst.

China shrugged, narrowing his eyes in disdain at his outburst. "I try calling, no one answer. We need focus on protecting our lands, not invading. They crush us if we leave."

"Are you kidding me?" America deadpanned. "We aren't going to win a war by staying in one place and ignoring your other allies! If Canada's missing, we need to go find him! Once France is back on his feet, I say we take back the land Germany stole and corner him! Russia, you take him from the east, Britain and France take him from the west. China can cut between Italy and Germany to cut off their resources- Germany is getting their food and stuff from them anyway, isn't he? Canada can help you once we find him."

"What will you do?" China asked, seeming genuinely intrigued by this procedure. Russia and Britain turned to him as well. "You say you are hero, don't you? Do you think you can defeat Japan by yourselves?"

America had forgotten about him. He smacked his hand on the table. "If Japan tries anything on my side, I'll blow him off the map! No one messes with me!"

China's eyes slightly widened at that, but America figured it was out of surprise of his brashness than actual concern for Japan. After all, they were enemies, weren't they? America continued, crossing his arms. "After the last war, I've honestly been in some trouble back home. I can't stay here and bail you guys out. You have to work harder! I'll help from the sidelines as much as I can, but I'm not in any position to actually send troops."

"What? You can't be serious, America!" Britain burst.

America rolled his eyes. "I am serious, Britain. I've been telling you that's all I can do for a month! Now excuse me, guys, but I've got to head home."

"You can't leave us!" Britain argued, jumping out of his seat, ready to chase him down. "If you go, we'll die! As much as I hate to admit it, America, you're the only hope we have! You're full of these hero ideas- and half of them might actually work! I guarantee this war will help you get out of debt! It'll help keep the kids safe."

"Don't bring them into this! They're exactly the reason why I can't leave home!"

Russia politely coughed. "If I might say something?"

America impatiently tapped his foot. "Yeah?"

"Children follow in their parents' footsteps. If you don't fight and help us, then later when you're in a crisis, who's to say they won't help you fight? And besides, a little war is good for the soul. It keeps you strong and reminds you of who you really are inside. Hiding that self away will only cripple you later. Take me for example. All my life I have fought. I have more land than almost all of you combined," Russia said, his sweet smile never once fading. "A little bloodshed won't hurt anyone."

America flinched back. "Dude… that's just… that's just messed up. War isn't ever a good thing- it's terrible!"

Russia patiently smiled up at him. "What about when you fought Britain for your independence? That was a good war, was it not? You became your own country. You don't have to answer to him anymore. You proved you were stronger."

"Shut up!" America yelled. "You don't know a thing about me! I didn't want to fight him! I don't want to fight ever! But there's a fine line between doing what you have to and taking it too far! I've never done something I regret, and I don't intend on doing it now! I fight when I have to, that's it."

Russia's smile toned down a little into a knowing smirk. "You haven't figured it out then. You don't see the truth in the words I speak. If you stay and see this war unfold, I believe you'll understand."

"I don't want to understand a single thing in your sick mind," America said, putting on his coat and goggles. "I'm out of here. I'll send over your weapons soon, Britain. If you see Germany, kindly tell him to keep his butt out of my country."

Right as he went to open the door, a knock sounded. America sighed in frustration and opened the door. "What is it?" he asked, trying hard to keep the harshness out of his voice.

"We just received a call for you, America. The girl said it was urgent."

America's eyes widened. He grabbed the attendant's shoulders. "It wasn't from Virginia, was it?"

"I-it was," he stuttered. America shouted a curse and took off for the phone.

He grabbed the receiver. "Virginia! What's wrong?"

"Dad!" she cried in relief. "Japan just launched an attack on Hawaii. The others already went to help. Delaware and I are leaving as soon as I hang up. She's alright, but she's hurt pretty bad."

America bit back the second curse on the tip of his tongue and told her he was on his way back home. Before he hung up, Virginia quickly said, "Two men called me earlier and said they had found Uncle Canada. They said they were sending him home on one of their planes and not to attack it when it came."

"What? Whose plane?"

Virginia hesitated, then sighed. "Italy and his brother Romano."

America nodded. "Alright. Be sure to tell the others. I'm heading straight to Hawaii, alright?"

"Alright. Bye, Dad."

"Bye."

America turned around to see Britain, Russia, and China standing outside the doorway. He grimly told them what had happened. China went pale and wished him luck before ducking back into the room. Britain and Russia followed after him, their looks only saying the same things they had said over dinner.

"I'm coming, Hawaii."

((((()))))

"Take this, foreign crap!" North Carolina shouted, jumping off the side of his ship and onto the smoldering deck of Pearl Harbor. He started shooting at anyone in the wretched Japanese uniform, pushing back enemy soldiers. South Carolina wasn't far behind him on the ship he had brought, shooting out bombs at the Japanese naval fleet. "Missouri, Alabama, move in!"

"Virginia called!" Montana announced, running up to North Carolina with Idaho and Washington at his sides. "Dad's on his way. He said to do our worst against those slimy sushi-eaters."

"Heavily filtered version?"

"Oh, yeah. He was mad, she said."

North Carolina grinned at that before ordering them to go with New Mexico, Maine, and Rhode Island to the hospital Hawaii was at. Texas had carried the girl there himself, then had come straight back to help fight off the enemy. The Mid-West states and the Rocky States were doing well, with this being their first real battle. They hadn't been present for the terrible Civil War or the Revolutionary War.

The Carolina twins had been, and for them, chasing off the Japanese was nothing compared to the battles fought back then.

Everyone on the East Coast fought well together, seeming to corner the Japanese no matter where they tried to sail.

Things seemed to be going perfect- until Japan himself entered the fray. He was fast- wicked fast, with a katana that cut apart the states' metal machine guns and rifles. Tennessee and Kentucky nodded solemnly to each other and rushed the country, both swinging out their respective weapons: a banjo and a frying pan. Japan ducked under their weapons, nearly making them smack each other in the face.

"Where is America?" Japan asked, suddenly right in front of North Carolina. The eldest twin frowned and swung his foot out to trip him. Japan backflipped away and repeated his question.

"Right here, slant-eyed b- er, jerk!"

"Dad!" every state present burst in relief. America grabbed his rifle from his plane and charged Japan, roaring in fury.

"Get the heck away from my kids!" he yelled, shooting at Japan. Japan's dark eyes went wide as the shot whistled past his ear, cutting off a strand of hair. America waved the states off further into the town where the Pacific Coast and the Southeastern states escorted Hawaiians to safety and chased away the remaining Japanese. Japan saw his troops retreat out of the corner of his eye, only making him more determined to win against America now that they were one on one.

Both dodged bullets and katana slashes for what seemed like hours before America ran straight up to Japan, taking him by surprise. If he has a long range weapon, why-?

The states cheered when America punched Japan right between the eyes. He staggered back, seeing stars. America took his hesitation into consideration and kicked him over the deck into the Pacific. Two Japanese soldiers jumped into the water to retrieve the flailing, disoriented country. To further prove his point, America shot at the water behind them as they swam away to safety as fast as they could. Only when the fleet was swallowed by the night did America drop his gun. Its clattering fall echoed in the silence left after the battle, the states' energy starting to fade once more when America turned and ran towards the hospital.

Virginia hung her head to hide her own tears, sliding down her cheeks like her father's. I hate war.

((((()))))

"Ah, Signore Italy, it seems we are missing a medical bag! The German troops pestered us until we did a 'routine inventory' and we discovered we were one missing!"

Italy blinked. Then, nervously wrung his hands. "Quick, we have to find another before Germany comes and-"

"And what, Italy?" the glaring blonde demanded. The two Italians squealed in terror, instinctively jumping two feet away from him. "You didn't lose any equipment, did you? I told you already that we don't have the money to keep replacing the things you lose! When will you ever learn!"

Romano popped up that instant to Italy's rescue, poking Germany in the chest. "Back off, Tater-Tard! It was probably one of your stupid soldiers who lost it somewhere!"

"ONLY YOU DARN ITALIANS WOULD DO SOMETHING SO CARELESS!"

"YOU DARN GERMANS ALWAYS BLAME EVERYTHING ON US! GO JUMP OFF A CLIFF, YOU-"

Italy nervously laughed, cutting off his brother's rant before he took it too far. "Ah, sorry, Germany. It was just a medical bag, though. We can just borrow one from Japan!"

Germany testily sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "Fine, fine. I suppose it wasn't that important after all. But no more, Italy!"

"Sissignore!" Italy cried, saluting with a goofy grin on his face. He kept it up until Germany was gone. Italy and Romano both let out the breath they'd been holding. "That was close," Italy shivered, glad Germany hadn't caught on. He would have gotten really mad, then.

"You did good, Italy," Romano said, ruffling his hair. "But don't make me do that again. Idiot."

As Romano stormed off, the brotherly moment over, Italy smiled and looked up at the sky. "Grazie per avermi dato questa grande fratello. He's the best I could have gotten."

((((()))))

"You… what?"

"America reporting for duty!" he repeated, saluting for extra emphasis. "I sort of hate Japan's guts now, so I've decided to help you guys blow him out of the water!"

Britain's eye twitched, but instead of the usual exasperated sigh, America's brother grinned. "Welcome to World War II, America."

For some reason, I love the idea of Italy being so religious- this of course alluding to The Vatican City and all that. I'm not Catholic, so I apologize to anyone who is in case I sort of ruined your way of doing things. I've never even actually seen real rosary beads before. I'm just going by google and TV.

And I dare you to tell me America isn't a family man deep down. With 50 kids, he has to be.