Stronger, Better, Faster

9.11

An EpikalStorms story.

APH

It was suppose to be a regular meeting. On a regular day. With normal occasions. With the usual countries antics. England and America would fight about their regular problems, Russia would stay his quiet self, Germany would try to keep order, France would observe and make fun while occasionally hitting on everyone, China would try to over stuff them all with food, Japan would... do whatever Japan did, and America would try to be everyones hero, while still holding that amazingly blinding grin on his face.

But that's not what happened. That's not what happened at all.

"Dudes! Seriously, Global. Warming. I'm telling you!"

They were holding a World Conference, per usual, in the break room of the Sears Tower, in Chicago. They were suppose to be having it on the hundredth floor of the North Tower of the World Trading Center, but America had rescheduled at the last minute. He'd said something about "bad juju" and had gone about everything as normal. Although, he had posted guards around every single one of the Fifty States, and had seemed rather urgent to get the President out of New York. The other countries had wondered what the hell he was going on about, but they'd just left it as his usual, annoying antics.

America finally finished, after going on about the giant robot they should pitch in together and build, to protect the world. Russia was up, now, speaking about weather conditions in his country, and America was doodling on a blank piece of paper. England was trying to pay attention, but even China's head was nodding off in a doze.

Suddenly, everyone's heads snapped up as a cry of pain rang through the room. England looked over to see America clutching his chest in agony, with his head bowed, and his eyes squeezed shut in pain.

"America? What's wrong?" England tried to get his ex-charge to sit up straight.

The other countries were slightly alarmed, but they told England to dismiss it as one of his silly games for attention, before they all went back to listening to Russia.

A while later, America, who was still curled up in a ball, gave out another cry, gasping for air. England's brows furrowed, but he didn't say anything.

Throughout Russia's speech, America cried out four times. In total. England was just starting to think that something was really wrong, when Russia finally ended his lecture, and sat down. It was Japan's turn now.

Suddenly, America screamed in agony, falling to the floor as blood seeped through his A-2 jacket. The other countries yelled his name, absolutely sure something wasn't right now, but he wouldn't respond.

"America-san!"

"America, are you okay, aru?"

"America! America! Please answer!"

"America, say something, please!"

He didn't.

APH

OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGO—

A PLANE! A PLANE JUST—OH MY GOD!

THAT'S NOT AMERICAN AIRLINES!

Mommy! What's happening!

It's okay, sweetheart. Just stay calm, it's okay. We're okay...

Dad! How do we get down? The stairway's collapsing!

Mr. Brownell! Sir, what's going on?

Boss, what are we suppose to do?

Captain! They hijacked the plane!

We have to—sir!

We're taking this plane back!

BANG!

One dead.

CRASH!

A thousand more are condemned.

CRASH!

A million, now.

OH MY GOD, SOMEBODY HELP ME!

His people were suffering, burning.

I'm not gonna be burned to death!

Daddy! No, don't! Please!

They were falling. Crashing to the earth.

Oh my god! The Towers are collapsing! THE TOWERS ARE COLLAPSING!

They were being crushed.

Daddy! Mom! Please wake up! Say something! Tell me that I'm grounded! Say you love me—anything! Please!

His children—

CRASH!

—killed.

Sir! Sir, the stairs are blocked, there's no way down!

Why? Why me! Why us! Why America?

And he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

APH

America writhed on the ground, screaming, yelling. Crying.

"Stop! Make it stop!"

England was frantic. "America! Tell me what's happening!"

Germany started barking out orders. "Lithuania! Turn the TV to CNN! Italy! Go to the nearest first aid center and get me some bandages! France, Britain, help me hold him down!"

Suddenly, America was sobbing. "No! Stop it! Don't! Please, stop jumping! Stop, dammit! Stooooop!" He screamed.

England felt tears sting the corners of his eyes. "What's he talking about? Germany, what's happening?"

The blond man shook his head. "I don't—Lithuania! Turn the damn TV on!"

The screen crackled to life, and everyone leaned in to see the headlines. All it said was "World Trade Center".

Russia sighed. "I knew it was nothi—" His eyes widened.

Then, the room grew deathly quiet, save for America's screaming.

"This just in! A plane has crashed into the World Trade Center!"

"Oh my god, people are—they're jumping!"

"Breaking News! Another plane just landed in the Pentagon! All personnel are ordered to evacuate the building immediately! Repeat: All person—"

"Everyone is to escape immediately! Everybody, out the—"

"Oh lord—they're jumping! People are jumping! Look! They're falling!"

"Oh my god! Oh my—"

"More Breaking News! Another hijacked plane just crashed in Pennsylvania! It is assumed to be a failed terrorist attack—"

"OH MY GOD! THE TOWERS ARE COLLAPSING! THE TOWERS—"

Everyones face paled and their blood ran cold, as the buildings on the screen fell, and America screamed in agony behind them.

Germany was the first to snap out of his daze. "England! Help me hold him down—WHERE THE HELL IS ITALY! I NEED THOSE BANDAGES!"

"America-san!"

"America! Wake up, please!"

"America, say something!"

"Say you're the hero! Please!"

"Mein Gott—ITALY! ITALY, GET IN HERE!"

APH

The President ran, as fast as his legs could carry him. The whole building could hear the yelling, and at first they had assumed it was just the countries bickering. Then the blood-curdling screams had started up, and now they were all waiting in baited breath. He had told someone to turn on the TV, following the words of Germany's shouts, and everyone in the fucking building had froze, staring at the damned thing in horror. So had he, at first. But as the screams reached his ears once more, all he could think about was Mr. Jones. "America! Mr. America!"

He pushed open the doors, and froze.

APH

America was in bad shape. Both figuratively speaking, and not. Every citizen of America was sitting still, frozen in place as they were attacked. Frozen, in horror of the still growing death toll. Their friends, their families, even strangers—who they now considered their friends. Of course, everyone was together today—clung to each other. For comfort. For reassurance, as they watched their homeland fall apart.

And America did, too. The nation lay on his back, staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes, not really seeing anything. At least, not anything that they could see. He was still crying. Still sobbing. Still reliving the whole event, every detail, over and over again, just like his people were. Just like the world was.

Except Afghanistan. She was smiling. Her people were celebrating. She'd been brutally kicked out from the meeting, when the other countries had found out that it was her who had attacked America.

I mean; sure, he was annoying at times, but not even he deserved... this.

It had taken a while for the others to figure it out, of course. And she'd been sitting there the whole damn time, smirking.

Happy. Happy that one man had used his abilities to kill thousands. Millions. Even more. And why? They didn't know. They didn't want to know.

Murder. By crashing those fucking planes, was all it took. To condemn all those people. To send a whole nation on red alert. To cause this to America.

He was gasping, breathless. England, Canada, France, China, Japan, Russia—hell, even Germany was crying with him. They'd all lost many of their people, just now. Not fifteen minutes ago. And it was still happening.

But none of them had it as bad as America.

He had blood everywhere, seeping from the bandages that Italy had finally shown up with. He was riddled with bullet wounds, somehow. A large gash—two, actually—had appeared on either side of his chest, and a long, bloody, lightning-shaped one on the leftmost side of his forehead.

So much blood. If he'd been human, there was no way he could've survived. Even now, he looked half-dead. His breathing was shallow, his eyes fluttering.

They were all covered in blood, actually. But it wasn't theirs. So much of it, it had stained all their clothes a black cherry color, reminding them both of the sweet fruit and of the horrors they had just witnessed.

America whimpered, suddenly, and England was there first, with Canada, France, and Russia following closely behind, and Italy, Germany, and China close one their heels with Japan and Lithuania. "America? Are you... awake?"

He choked, tears streaming down his blood-covered face. "En...gla...nd...?" He coughed, violently.

England gathered him in his arms, as Canada leaned over his shoulder anxiously, and France, Russia, Italy and Germany sat beside them. "We're here."

"It... hurts..." He gasped.

England felt tears come to his eyes, to see this nation, who was usually so strong, so hard-headed... this nation, a nation he raised...

Canada's grip on his shoulders tightened, and he felt the young country bury his tears into his neck. France hugged himself, and Italy hugged them all.

He was more gentle with America, of course. But as Italy hugged him, he cried out in pain. "H-Hurts..."

Italy started to cry. He ran to Germany, who had no self defense against the distressed nation.

America screamed again, breaking the silence, and making them all jump. "America? What's happening?"

He coughed, sobbing. "More buil-buildings... collapsing... People... d-dying..."

They lapsed into silence once more.

America reached for England, sobbing hysterically. "D-Daddy..."

England paled. America... he hadn't called him that since...

France leaned further in. "Amérique?

America's eyes watered. "P-Papa..."

Austria Hungary covered her face. She was crying again. Lithuania hugged her, still staring in shock at the U.S.A newscast, which was replaying the live-video, and adding more disaster to the mix every coming second.

The President of the U.S sat in panic and shock, unable to do anything. Finally, he jumped up and rushed out of the room, looking for a phone and a free line.

He couldn't find one. Every phone line in America was crowded with missed calls. Families trying to call their loved ones, the ones that had been in the towers and the surrounding area, hoping that someone would answer. Friends, trying to reach whoever had fought off the hijackers in the Pennsylvania crash, hoping that someone, anyone, had survived.

No one answered. But they kept calling anyway.

He finally got a line, just thirty seconds. But in that thirty seconds, he sent a recovery team to the field in Pennsylvania, and posted an order that no plane could land in America as of today.

Canada volunteered to take the incoming American Airlines, and managed to reach his Prime Minister to issue the request.

Germany was talking with Russia, trying to figure out how and who attacked America. They'd figured out it had been Afghanistan, yes, and now they searched for the terrorist group.

England held America in his arms, trying to keep him calm and, with the help of France, and some other nations, like Germany and Russia and Lithuania, he managed to stop the blood flow. Most of it.

Then, America woke up, and he clenched England's shirt, hissing in pain.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..."

England frowned in worry, along with the other nations. Was he talking to them? Or was he talking to himself, or his people? "America, why are you sorry? Who are you talking to?" China knelt next to him.

"I wasn't there... Couldn't save them... Ran... ran away..."

"What? You didn't run away, America! How could you run away, you weren't even there..." England's eyes widened. "Th-The place of the Conference... re-scheduled... you re-scheduled it..."

Canada started to tremble. "Y-You knew this was going to happen?" The room was deathly quiet.

America coughed, crying again. "Didn't... Had bad feeling... Tried everything...everything I could... Still happened, though... " He sobbed, fists tightening on Britain's shirt.

Their eyes widened. Of course. America had seemed off this morning. Different, somehow. Why hadn't they seen it? He'd acted the same, right before the Pearl Harbor incident. Germany had, too, just before November 9th... And Japan, before America dropped that atomic bomb, not knowing the consequences that would result. That had been one of the only things they had all agreed on. No atomic bombs...

Except, this was much, much worse... the signs had all been so clear... If they had payed attention, they could have even stopped this!

America whimpered again. He looked so... fragile. Vulnerable. Distant.

But not weak. No. If anything, this would make him stronger. Things like these, events of destruction and mayhem, they either tore a nation apart, or made it inseparable.

And, knowing America, he'd keep together.

APH

OKAY! Finally done! Be honest, who cried?

*sniffles*

Steeve: I's did. :(

Me: Oooof course you did, Steeve...

If any of you see grammatical errors, please contact me about them, especially if they really bother you. I'm only thirteen, though, so gimme SOME slack, at least.

(Please, don't! I absolutely LOVE constructive criticism! But it must be constructive, or you will Pay... ^ ^)

Thank you! Please Read, and REVIEW! Have a nice day!

*is trying to be optimistic*

I am still wondering whether or not I should add more chapters to this... should I keep it a one-shot?

With excitable love, and peace for all platypus fans!

~EpikalStorms*

(Storm)