A war. Going on for twenty years. North America against their father countries. America was at the front lines with his younger sibling Mexico, Canada was defense and helped all of their countries with refugees. If your wondering why they're at war, well, I think it better if you find out what really happened, instead of just a summary.

Flash back twenty years ago

Canada and America walked into the meeting room, the one before the war, laughing and talking. Twins that have been together since birth, but was separated by their "fathers" England and France. Yes, they did see each other, but it wasn't often. And their twin telepathy didn't go that far. But still, they've always been close, and one cannot live with out the other.

When they walked into the meeting room, the other countries were wondering why was America talking to himself? They didn't know it was the American's older twin brother (by two minutes), nor did they remember him. Mexico remembered him too, he was his older brother too; although they did have a lot of elder siblings cause of their mother native America, Mexico always felt closer to his Canadian and American brothers.

"You bloody git, stop talking to yourself!" The Englishman yelled stopping the twins' conversation.

"I'm not talking to myself," America says. "I'm talking to Canada."

"Canada, you know, the second largest land mass in the world?" Mexico said intervening. "North of America, his elder twin. ¿Mi hermano meyor?"

"'Ere is so one named that," France said.

"Wow, you know what, never mind," America said sitting in his seat next to his younger brother and his twin.

Russia walked in, his scarf blowing behind him, a small innocent smile danced across his lips as he walked over to the 'empty' seat next to America. Effectively squishing the poor Canadian flat against the seat, all the while Russia paid no attention to his quiet pleas. Russia continued on with setting up his space, pulling out his papers and pens. Canada hit his back as hard as he could, but to no avail. He was stuck.

Mexico looked to his brother and got up, and pushed the Russian off his brother. Everyone looked weirdly at the Mexican man as he pushed the bigger country. He then told him to stop sitting in his brother, but the Russian didn't know what he was talking about. This made the youngest North American mad. And the American. It made so mad they went on a rant, about how people always forget Canada. How they never noticed him, not even his father countries that colonized him or anyone. Nor did Prussia remember him, and he and Canada had a relationship.

Mexico left to go cool off but the American was still high on rage. He explained to them how it was his turn to be the forgotten one, how it was his turn to be sat on cause no one bothered to notice him. He told them that it was Canada's turn to get the attention, it was his turn to be remembered by everyone.

"Shut up you fucker!" England says. "Stop talking about someone who doesn't even exist! You goddam Americans coming up with pointless shit. 'UFOs spotted in arizona', blah blah blah! You're so stupid you're making up a country that isn't real!! I'm ashamed to call you one of used to be colonies! "

It was at that moment the American felt no more. All the stuff he'd been called through his time as an official country came crashing down. The hurtful comments, the teasing, name calling, physical tormenting. It hit him like a brick to the head. Tears welled up in his eyes, the gauze on his wrist opened up revealing the cuts he made last night. Blood dripped down his face mixing with the salty tears he tried to wipe away.

"Oh look, the idiot is crying like the child he is," England said. "And grow up, act your age. No one likes an annoying baby."

Canada stood up at that last comment. His chair hitting the floor, his hands banging against the oak table leaving a crack. He was mad, no he was fuming. And it was at this moment the other countries noticed him, France got up and went to go hug his colony,but got a punch to the face.

"Stop calling my brother that you dumb fucks!" Canada bellowed. "Stop calling him 'fat' 'stupid' 'useless'! He's not! You don't know what he's gone through and you have no right to talk shut about him! And you!-"

He pointed at the Brit.

"He's your fucking son and you're calling him hurtful names! It hurts him more than you think! He's one of the youngest nations, of course he still acts like a child! We're practically are!"

"And, you!"

He pointed at Spain and France.

"You should know better than to call your children disrespectful names, and the fact that you don't say anything to stop it, makes me wonder why you should even be parents."

Walking over to his twin brother he hugged him and held his hands reassuringly, then looking at all three of them in the eyes he said, "I, Matthew Canada Williams, declare war on France, Spain, and England."

The countries paled and shocked expressions decorated their faces. Sweat drops fell from their hair lines cause of the heated speech and argument. England looked frightened for a moment, his enlarged eyebrows twitched and furrowed. France looked like he was about to cry, he didn't want to go to war with his son again. And he felt bad for for stopping the English man, but he knew better. Spain, Spain, didn't take it well. He knew that by not stopping his British comrade, the twins and his son would get angry. Well, no, furious.

America wiped his eyes again, and cleared his throat, "I, America, Alfred F. Jones, declare war on England, France, and Spain."

More shocked expressions filled the room, and England started to cry. He can't go against his little boy again, it hurt him the first time, and it still hurts. But this is the price to pay for hurting his child.

"I," a voice said. "Diego Mexico Rodrigues, declare war on Spain, France, and England."

"Mi hijo, ¿por que?" Spain said worriedly. He stood up, a pained expression dawned his face and sweat fell.

"You went along with it, to my brother no less. And you forgot my other one too!" He said angrily. "Pendejo, sometimes I wish you guys never colonized us!"

And with that the three brothers left the meeting, and it was the last one they went to for twenty years.

Flashback over

It was the last battle. The last one. Hardly any one had people in their army's. America had some, he and his younger brother had just as many soldiers when America fought England. Canada's men were dropping like flies, but they fought hard for the other countries had insulted their home and native land. Americans fought valiantly and brave, for their land had been made fun of for decades from the other countries so they fought. Mexicans fought to help the other nations, the ones with similar history to their own. Yeah sure, Mexico and America fought in some wars against each other, but they were a good trading partner and they let their people go to start a new.

England, France, and Spain had the same amount of people that the other side had. And the personifications were devastated, many of their people dead because of their selfish ways. But the last battle was the last, and they knew it was the last for one. And it pained them that they knew who was it.

The last bit of troops marched on the open battle field on the boarder between Canada and America. The North American brothers on the Canadian side and the French, Spain, English troops on the American side. The personifications walked up to each other, America said to the others, "last chance, give up now, an no more people will get hurt."

"No, we won't give up," England said. "But you can end this now by surrendering."

Mexico put his hand behind his back and signaled for the first shot to be heard. A sniper, far off in the trees, shot the bullet and it hit one of the Frenchmen in the shoulder. Sending the man to the ground bleeding, and thus the quarrel began. Guns firing left and right, people falling, bleeding. The countries fought to. Alfred battled hand to hand combat with the Spaniard, knocking blows left, right, and center. Mexico went against his French father, a bit old school, but they went sword against sword. Slashing and hacking against each other, cuts and bruises decorated both of their arm, legs, and chests.

Canada and England went against each other, gun against guns. Bullets flying in both directions towards the living embodiment of their respective country. Canada knew he wasn't going to last, he had no body else to fight with, his people left his country for some shelter in the neighboring land. And England had shot him too many times, bullets embedded itself in matthew's skin and damaged the organs. Blood spewed out of the wounds and stained the uniform with the crimson liquid.

The battle worn on and soon enough it came to an end. The last remaining Mexican, American, and Canadian soldiers celebrated. Hugging one another despite their country of origin. As they celebrated, a last gun shot was heard.

It rang through the air and left tension the size of Russia in the air. Alfred and Diego turned to the source of the house, to find and bloody England with his arm outstretched with the gun in his hand. Smoke left the barrel of the gun as it pointed to the Canadian. Blood covered his jacket, bullet holes littered his body.

He dropped the gun, and fell to his knees. Blood fell from his mouth as he started to fall to the ground. His eyes quickly becoming dull, and his breathing was quick.

America felt something, something he never wanted to feel. Turning to his his beloved brother doused in blood he let lout a scream, he ran as fast as his legs would allow. Sliding against the grass, the held his brother right before he fell. His once vivid violet eyes were know a dull purple. His heartbeat slowed and slowed down, his breath hitched, he looked up with his lifeless eyes and he said, "remember...me."

With his last words, his heart stopped and his lungs filled with air no more. His younger twin brother looked at him, disbelief and sadness were present in his expression. Tears welt in his eyes. He shook his brother's shoulders, "mattie? Matt! Wake up!"

Nothing worked. He begged, and shook the corpse of his brother, but it wouldn't bring him back. Tears fell and wound stop. They fell on Matthew's cold body, and they wouldn't stop. A blood curdling scream fell from the Americans mouth as he held his other half.

For with out him, he's only...

Half of a whole