America was more than happy to let Canada have his moment. The slightly older Canadian was grinning from ear to ear as he was crushed in-between a sobbing France and a tearful England who was mumbling apologies under his breath. He barely managed to get away from his former guardians before he was given a hard slap on the back by a grinning Cuba, a pat on the shoulder from Prussia, and an encouraging rare smile from the Netherlands. As the rest of the world gave Canada his long-overdue moment in the spotlight, America couldn't help but feel further away from the rest of the world than ever.

 It wasn't as if he was longing for constant attention. He was more than happy to be out of the spotlight for a few minutes to catch some long needed respite before he had to put the stupid happy go lucky hero mask back on. Ever since he's gotten here, the young personification has put himself at the brunt of the other nations' frustrated verbal and sometimes even physical attacks, all to keep the peace so everyone could get through the memories faster. Being an unwanted mediator was no walk in the park and the fact that most of the world hated his forced interventions made the job even harder.

 Hearing jabs from countries who disliked him and comments about how Canada deserved better made his blood boil. As if they knew what happened to cause that invisibility. Instead of turning around and thrashing the personifications as he wanted, America kept his stupid hero grin on and mentally counted to three to calm himself down, just like his western brother taught him. Speaking of West... America closed his eyes and tried to mentally contact his older brother over their empathy link, only to feel nothing. America slightly scowled before replacing it quickly with his hero grin before anyone could notice.

"At this rate, I'm going to go insane due to all of the comments, lack of breaks, and loss of support from my older brother. Man Eric is going to be pissed after spending decades getting me back on my feet," America thought to himself pessimistically as he made his way over to Canada. The rest of the world noticed his approach and parted away like the red sea. Canada, noticing his younger brother's approach, began to walk toward him to meet him halfway. Cuba looked like he wanted to go after Canada, however, a grip on his arm and a warning look from Prussia halted him in his tracks.

"Thanks, Gil," America mentally thought before stopping in front of Matthew. The world went silent as many countries unconsciously held their breath as the atmosphere grew tense. Because his memories were next, America decided to lose his mask... just for a moment. His goofy and almost playful expression grew neutral. He stood tall as his cheerful blue eyes grew cold. Canada gulped and took a step back as he quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, lest he provoke the current world superpower. The world held its breath as they waited for the American to make his move.

"Canada... Look at me." Canada couldn't help but freeze. Not Matt or Mattie but Canada? It was rare for his brother to sound so serious and he was afraid of what he would see if he looked up. However, his curiosity got the better of him and after a moment of hesitation he looked up. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw his brother's eyes. His sky blue eyes, while cold, held remorse, guilt, and the biggest of all, regret. America bowed his head and let out a bitter chuckle.

"I could never understand how the majority of the world could mistake you so easily for me." Canada's head shot up in surprise. America rubbed his neck as he nervously kept eye-contact with his slightly older brother. "I mean come on. You have the lighter blonder wavier hair that reminds me of France while I have the shorter blonder hair, not to mention that you have a curl like the Italies while I have an ahoge," America started as he pointed as his stubborn piece of hair before stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I have eyes as blue as the sky while yours are darker with an almost purplish tint. I am always sporting my bomber jacket while you always carry your pet polar bear around." Hearing the word bear, Kumajirou lifted his head but seeing and smelling no food, he went back to lounging on Canada's chair. "Most importantly, and I'm not saying this like it's a bad thing, but you shy away from confrontation while I usually meet it halfway," America continued as most of the nations made faces, realizing their short-sightedness in mistaking Canada for America.

"I've always admired how easily you can get along with just about anyone," America added, growing thoughtful at his own words. "But that might be because you actually read the atmosphere while I tend to ignore it." Canada blushed in slight embarrassment, not used to any sort of praise. However, there was a pressing matter that was still bugging the Canadian. "If you could always tell who I was when we hung out together, how come you could never notice me around the other nations?" Canada asked bitterly, causing America to flinch from the harsher tone.

 America grew quiet as he stared at the ground. How could he tell Canada without revealing the whole truth? Canada could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his neck as time went by even slower. Finally, he couldn't take the silence any longer. "Well?!" He demanded, almost causing America to jump. The younger nation hesitated before he finally spoke. "While it wasn't the main reason, I was selfish," America whispered, no longer keeping eye contact with his brother. "I didn't want the other nations to think I was talking to thin air like England. But I guess all I did was add fuel to the fire, huh?"

 Canada wanted to scoff, but he held it in. The problem was that America could read him like a book and he knew that Canada would probably never forgive him. But he owed it to his northern brother to try. "What was the main reason then?" Canada asked, his hands clenched. "I can't," America whispered as he met Canada's angry eyes. Some things were supposed to remain untold. "Then we're done," Canada snapped before he could stop himself. Before Canada could take back his words, America held his hand up and easily shut him up.

"I wouldn't forgive myself either Canada," America told him softly. "And I don't think a three-hour lecture (pointing out all of his flaws) and me admitting my own faults is enough to reciprocate decades of suffering." America made his way to the door that led out of the viewing room, but before he left, he turned back to face his older brother once more. "If you wish to talk, my border is always open," America offered with a sad smile before shutting the door behind him.

 The room was silent for a long time before England broke it. "Well, I can't say the git didn't deserve it," he grumbled, still feeling a bit miffed over the "thin air" comment. "But-" Canada started, feeling a bit bad for publicly shunning his brother, even if he did deserve it. However, France silenced him before he could get a word out. "Angleterre is right Matthieu. It's about time America got a wake-up call anyway." Many nations snickered at France's words.

 Many other nations made a go at America and unbeknownst to them, the young nation was silently listening behind the door he exited. Not wanting to hear their jeers, especially from personifications he'd cared deeply about, he left for his room. The jeering continued until a pissed off Australian interrupted them. "You all are talking and whinging about America but at least the man remembered Canada," Australia scowled, looking genuinely upset about their words. That stopped the insults in their tracks.

---

"Nanuq? Didn't I just see you on Canada's chair?" America asked, confused as to why the spirit of Nanook was chilling on Canada's comforter in their shared room. The old bear stretched on the Canadian inspired quilt as he gazed pitifully at the young country. America made a face. "I don't want your pity." "Alfred-" the old bear cub started before America interrupted him. "You should go before Canada notices you're gone-" "Masaka," the bear growled. America froze before glaring at the bear.

"That's an old name," America glowered as the bear rose to its paws. "You are an old man," the bear retorted, keeping his gaze fixated on the young personification. "I am hardly old," America mused as the bear huffed in disagreement. "Do not compare yourself to Europe or Asia. You are old in your own right." America's glare softened as he stared at the wall behind Nanuq. "I do not think I am that old," he argued half-heartedly, much to the bear's annoyance. "It is not time that ages you. It is how you live your life and how you handle different experiences that influence your age."

 Fed up with the back and forth, America smirked at the polar bear. "I think Canada will be worrying about you Kumajirou," he said snarkily. Nanuq bared his teeth at the American before hopping off of the bed and landing onto the floor with a loud thump. "Feed me," he demanded. America snorted and headed toward the bathroom. "I think Canada has some fish on him," he pointed out as he entered the bathroom. By the time he returned, Nanuq had vanished.

-----

 The Ancients were gathered in their private viewing booth. They were all mostly pleased with the nation's overall reaction to Canada, except for America's disappearance near the end. Native America was especially worried. "I hope he's alright," she fretted, much to the annoyance of Germania but a glare from Britannia froze him where he stood as she consoled the worried American. "There is no need for that Germania. Now Ancient Egypt dear, do you have any news on the missing personification of the Western United States?" The Brit asked as she squeezed Native America's hand in assurance.

 Ancient Egypt made a face as she lowered her magic in defeat. "Unfortunately for us, I think Native America raised him too well. He is hidden from Horus's Eye and as a result, my magic," she somberly replied. Britannia's shoulders sagged in defeat as Gaul scowled in annoyance. "That American probably knows where he is. We could just have Germania blackmail him," he remarked, causing Germania to scowl in his direction from the jab. "We are not blackmailing my nephew," Scandinavia bluntly asserted, giving the occupants a sudden chill as if Kievan Rus had just spoken.

"Let's just threaten him with something that he'd be too afraid to call a bluff on," Rome proposed, earning a snort from Ancient Egypt. "Like what? His sex life?" The Egyptian joked. "More like lack thereof," Gaul added before letting out a yelp as Native America smacked the back of his head. Just as things were about to lead to a brawl, a new more terrifying aura engulfed the room, causing its participants to shiver. "We are here to help our children, da? Let Germania threaten America in front of everyone if that's what it'll take to get him to talk," Kievan Rus interrupted with one of his creepy smirks, causing a unanimous agreement from everyone.

 Scandinavia turned and glared at Germania. "You hurt him and I'll castrate you," the Norden threatened as he left the room to go spy on his kids. The German shuddered, knowing very well that the Scandinavian would go through with it. He left the room, keeping his distance from the old Viking. Rome and Gaul left together, placing bets on who would break first, America or Germania. One by one, the rest of the Ancients left until it was only Native America and Ancient Greece left in the observation room. The old nation had a serene look on her face and to Native America, she seemed centuries away.

"Ancient Greece? The meeting is over," Native America called, trying to get the Greek nation's attention. The old nation blinked slowly and sleepily smiled as she was jostled back to reality. "Ah, apologies Native America, I seemed to have slipped away during the meeting. Would you please fill me in?" She asked quietly, standing out of her chair as she gracefully made her way to the door. Native America softly walked beside her. "Nothing new has come up regarding my eldest living son. Germania is going to threaten America if he does not tell us where his brother is," Native America replied, not too happy with the plan.

 Ancient Greece's smile grew amused. "Is that so?" She mused. Native America hummed softly as they made their way to their quarters. "Unfortunately Kievan Rus is very... persuasive. Much like his son Russia." Ancient Greece couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's words. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I foresee that Germania will have little luck persuading your son. He is very loyal to the ones he considers family," the Greek commented.

 As they turned the bend, Ancient Greece faltered in her stride as she closed her eyes. Native America stopped and turned around to look at her friend, visibly confused. Ancient Greece opened her eyes and gazed at Native America. "It seems your son is by Arizona's border hunting monsters," she offhandedly commented as she shook herself out of her trance. "Well it is that season," Native America responded, despite feeling shocked that out of all of the magic users, it was Ancient Greece who found him.

"How did you find him?" Native America asked curiously as Ancient Greece softly chuckled. "We lucked out. He does not have a block for Greek magic. I do not know why, as his country is filled with Greek and Roman legacies. Perhaps my magic is a lot rarer than I forethought," Ancient Greece speculated as they made their way to her room. "Because he has such a strong mental block, it will take an unprecedented amount of time. However, I should have all of his memories regarding America by the time our children wake up tomorrow," she added as she opened her door.

"Should I let the others know?" Native America asked as she stood outside the door. Ancient Greek turned to look at her friend, a strange twinkle dancing in her eye. "We can let them know later. Your son is quite the special case," Ancient Greece giggled as she softly shut her door. Native America could only shake her head in amusement. But she decided that she would keep quiet as she was quite curious to see what her middle son would say to keep Ancient Greece from saying anything.

-----

 America could not sleep. It's not like he didn't try. He tried tiring himself by exercising in the small room, meditating, and even reading a book he found laying around. All in that order! Unfortunately, it seemed that sleep evaded him. America looked up from his book to see Canada sleeping, facing the wall to avoid America. The younger nation sighed and closed the book. Obviously, his choice of wording backfired. He should have never mentioned that there were more reasons regarding the forced invisibility. Hopefully, Canada would forgive him once he discovered the war behind the War of 1812.

 The longer the younger nation laid awake, the more he realized that as long as he stayed in the same room as Canada, the more awkward it would be for both of them. America sat up and studied his brother, who hadn't moved in the past two hours. As colonies under British rule, the two personifications of North America always shared a room, and America could remember very clearly that Canada always was the more restless sleeper. So the lack of movement sent alarm bells ringing in his mind. For the sake of both of them having a good night's rest, the American decided to leave the room. Albeit quietly as to not wake up Canada or his neighbors if they were sleeping.

 America silently opened the door but quickly looked away. The light was a lot brighter than he was anticipating. The American squinted his eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden bright fluorescent light as he closed the door and made his way to the main living room. The nation would have chosen an empty room or even one of the private offices, however, he didn't want to keep the other nations waiting because he woke up late. Also, England and China were early risers. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep the moment he could hear them enter the room. Perhaps he would be able to help China and France keep England from making a mess of the kitchen. The thought brought a small nostalgic smile to his face, but it was short-lived with the thought of Canada still on his mind.

 As he entered the living room to sleep on one of the couches, he realized he wasn't alone. There, sitting in one of the armchairs, was Romano reading a book. The American couldn't help but study the older nation. When Romano's memories came up, it was revealed he was a lot tougher, very hardworking, and way more secretive than the other countries had thought previously. America could barely keep himself from laughing when the Mafia came up. Even Spain kept his distance for a little bit after one particularly brutal scene, although nothing could keep the cheerful Spaniard away from his favorite charge.

 America could definitely count on Romano being a part of his tight nit friend group. After WW1, America was in charge of keeping an eye on the Southern Italian, much to the ire of the older nation. Two years later, the Prohibition in the US happened. Of course, the masks slipped off and the two friends became well known in the streets of New York while his brother made himself a name in Las Vegas and Chicago. By the 1920s, Romano had practically moved into America's New York suite. Even now, as an inside joke, if alone Romano will order Moonshine at a bar for both of them and the two would toast in remembrance of the nights of debauchery that had occurred when the mob ran the streets.

 If America had to pick a favorite decade in the 20th century, it would probably be the 20's.

"Are you going to come and sit or what hamburger bastard?" Romano gruffly said as he closed his book and shot America an annoyed expression. America couldn't help but cockily grin at the grumpy Italian. "Don't mind me Lovino. I'm just planning on sleeping on the couch. Go back to your love story or whatever," America teased as Romano's expression seemed to grow darker. "If everyone wasn't trying to get some sleep, I'd throw this book at your face, Alfredo," he threatened as he placed the book on the table adjacent to the chair. America chuckled softly as he did not want to wake anyone up and get solely blamed for it.

 As he sat down on the comfy couch, he noticed Romano never returned to his book. In fact, the older Italian was staring at him, making America slightly uncomfortable. "Are you nervous?" He asked, startling the young personification. "I mean yeah I guess I am," America reluctantly admitted as he laid down on the couch. The silence grew awkward. Romano watched as America stared at the ceiling. He could tell the American wasn't interested in conversation but before he could try and make the situation less awkward, America spoke.

"You know how lucky you are, right?" The question caught Romano off guard. "What?" America's eyes seemed a million miles away. His eyes held a gleam in them that the Italian had never seen before. "You're lucky that Spain still cares even after seeing all of your memories and darkest moments." Romano was silent and caught off guard. How could he respond to that? "I've seen how some of the Europeans have looked at and have treated their former charges after watching their memories. Indonesia, Brazil, Haiti... It's all so sad," America trailed off as he shut his eyes as if he could feel their pain. Romano was at a loss for words. He knew America was right. But before he could bother coming up with a response, the strange gleam in his eyes disappeared. This conversation was over... for now.

"Well, the hero has to get some sleep. After all, no one likes to watch their heroic backstory half-asleep. I'll see you tomorrow South Italy." And with that, America set his glasses on the table and flipped his body to where his back was facing Romano as he fell into an unsettled sleep. Romano stared at America for a little longer before he shook himself out of it. The Italian switched the lamp off and curled up against the armchair. The Southern Italian had been avoiding Spain because the man had become overly protective, way more than normal. Probably due to watching the horrors of what the Italian mob forced him into doing.

 Now his avoidance of Spain felt petty. Some nations couldn't face each other for weeks after watching each other's memories. And even after they made up, there was always this sense of awkwardness or discomfort that surrounded former families and friends. He felt lucky to have a friend like America, who was so willing to get real with him and shake some sense into him, despite the possibilities of a falling out. "Tomorrow Spain," he thought. "Tomorrow I'll make it up to you. I won't push you away anymore," Romano promised himself as he fell into a dreamless sleep.

(3677 Words, 6/16/20)