"Alright, I am going to start with a rather interesting topic-"

"I swear, if it's anything about the economy I might cry..."

"Don't be so bloody rude!"

"Speak for yourself, Angleterre."

"Please don't start arguing already..."

"Do I have to get my pipe out?~"

"Westerners are so childish..."

"China, please."

"Maybe we should just stop talking and start aga-"

"You're not helping, bastard."

"Fratello!"

"Shut up!"

Germany was extremely tired of every meeting bursting into misconduct and mayhem within a matter of minutes. It was always the same; America made some comment, England got irritated and Russia's pipe was quickly slammed on the table. Every. Single. Time. Maybe if they gave him the chance, they'd realise that Ludwig was not going to be discussing economical issues and actually had something important that he needed everyone to hear.

Allow me to explain: Ludwig had the habit of arriving earlier than everyone, usually by about half an hour, regardless of which country he was in. This time was no different, only, when he'd entered the conference room ready to get everything organised, he hadn't expected something to be sat waiting on the desk in front of his seat. Setting down his case, he'd taken a seat and stared at the decorated book. It's blue bow was neatly tied, and a small envelope had been tucked under the ribbon. With little thought, he'd opened it, and the anonymous note had certainly puzzled him:

'L,

Inside this book is a collection of things that I want you to share with everyone else who will be in this room shortly. It's important that they all listen to what's inside. Every word needs to be read. We are counting on you.'

Germany thought it was cryptic, but after he'd taken the liberty of reading a couple of pages, he'd seen that the note was right. Everyone had to know what was happening, whether they liked it or not. He knew he had issues, past and present, and now he felt compelled to ensure that everyone knew everything about him and all the other nations. It didn't matter if they were at the meeting or not. They'd listen or he'd be damned.

The room had fallen silent. Everyone looked at Germany, some with confused frowns, others with mild curiosity. Clearing his throat, Ludwig reached for the book which he'd placed with his case under the table, and he gently placed it onto the wooden surface for all to see.

"What's that, Germany?" Italy asked. "Are you going to read us a story? I like stories~"

Ludwig decided to roll with that idea, figuring that it was the easiest way to explain it. "Sort of. This book," he said, tapping in the leather cover and looking at everyone around the room, "contains lots of short stories written by people in this very room. From what I've flicked through so far, I've determined that some are a lot more... Cathartic than others."

"Germany... Are those...?"

The German held up his hand, telling England to wait. "This book was left for me by someone anonymously. Inside are a collection of observations and personal entries, either written about or by everyone in this room, and some countries outside."

Tension slowly increased. It was clear that everyone was now worried about how many secrets had been spilt onto the pages, and Ludwig himself shared that fear. He'd only read three entries, and none were about him. Whoever had done this had taken a lot of time into studying them all as people. They'd taken effort into seizing their personal documents and rewriting everything.

'I wonder how easy it was for them... Reading so much and learning so much about us... I wonder if they're still sane...' Ludwig contemplated, staring down at the book.

"We are all going to stay here and take turns reading out a few entries to the whole group." he said, eyes still fixed. "It's imperative that we do this, for all of our sakes."

He picked up the book and flicked to the first entry. He stared at the name at the top of the page and took a silent, deep breath. He'd already read this one over, and it had been difficult, but he knew that it wouldn't be any easier a second time. Just as he was about to start however, another country beat him to it.

"I don't know about the rest of you guys, but I don't really want all of my personal shit shared with the class." America said, rising from his seat, his eyes fixed on Ludwig's. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to be taking my leave. If anyone wants to join me, feel free."

Alfred turned on his heel, noisily pushing the chair as he moved towards the door. He didn't want to hear. He didn't want to know. Maybe if he left, then the others would, and they could all forget about that book. Heck, if he was lucky, Germany would have the sense to burn it. Did the idiot want everyone to know his secrets? His weaknesses?

"America."

He kept walking. He wouldn't turn around. Not now, not for anything, not for anyone. Alfred reached for the doorknob and turned it. Gently, he pushed the door open, but as he did, Ludwig continued to read the entry.

"September 13th, 2001."

Alfred halted. He remembered that date, and it filled him with dread. "Don't."

"It's been two days. Two days since that day. I don't know how I'm able to stay so strong when there's just so much pain-"

"I said don't-"

"-every single second, whether I'm awake or asleep. The voices in my head. They just won't stop screaming, yelling, begging for my help."

Alfred gently let his head hit the wood of the door, his breath starting to catch in his throat as his chest tightened. "Ludwig, please-"

"I can't help them. Why can't I help them? My people are dying everyday, for countless reasons, and I can't help them. I can't save them. What sort of hero am I, if all can do is let them die? Maybe I'm not a hero at all. Maybe I'm the villain. I'm not brave, I'm not strong... I'm not even likeable. If I can't protect my people, who am I to call myself America?"

Everyone looked at Alfred. He was on his knees, back still facing the room, and warm tears were slowly running down his face. No one knew what to say. The whole world knew the events of 9/11. They knew how the country had been affected, and how much international security had to change to prevent another tragedy. They saw the physical damage Alfred had endured in the weeks after. But had they ever considered the emotional and psychological pain that had come with it?

"It took nearly three months, you know."

"What do you mean?" England carefully asked, quietly leaving his seat and going over to the young nation. He crouched down, and silently comforted Alfred.

"That state of mind..." Alfred sniffled, "It took almost three months for me to sort myself out. You remember my seat was empty for the final meeting that year?" he said, casting a quick glance at the Brit next to him.

"Yes... We all do..."

"That was because I'd been fighting with myself over going. I-I didn't know who I was. I just... I c-couldn't bare to look in mirrors, t-to see pictures of me, or to even think about what I did! I l-let them down, Arthur! I let it happen!" America said. His voice had become so quiet, it just wasn't right. It had cracked and stammered where normally, it was loud and confident. Alfred was a wreck, and he'd shown it to everyone present.

That was it. He burst into tears again. He'd given up caring what others thought of him. It was all because of him that so many people had died, so why should he receive pity? It was unjust of him. Unjust, unfair and cowardly. As Alfred let his tears fall and drown him in loathing, two arms wrapped themselves around him and held him close. A voice tried to calm him, shush him, and relax him, and it slowly worked.

"Alfred, what happened that day was not your fault." Arthur said, his voice hardly loud enough for everyone to listen. He didn't care. Only Alfred needed to hear. "Were you sat in the cockpit of those planes?"

A muffled 'no' barely reached his ears, but he heard it.

"Did you purposely fly those planes into those buildings?" Arthur continued.

"N-No..."

"Then I really can't see how you can blame yourself. You did what was important for your people, Alfred. You stayed strong. You wore that brave face, through all the pain I know you were going through, and you showed everyone that you are capable of anything." England said. He loosened his hold on Alfred, and carefully moved the American so he could look him in the eyes. "Ludwig, would you say that everyone in here has a rather tragic entry that would hurt the owner with the memories of what happened?"

"Um, ja. Ja, I would." Germany replied, slightly confused as to what the Brit was getting at.

"I want you to look for a date for me, Germany. If my suspicions are correct, you'll be able to find an entry in there under my name, somewhere between the 7th and 10th of July, 2005."

"Angleterre, is that a good idea?" France questioned, glancing from Germany to England and then back as Ludwig hurriedly flicked through the pages. He remembered that month all too well.

"Not in the slightest." England replied, a weak smile on his face. "When you find it, Ludwig, read it out. It was going to happen at some point, right?"

"Right..."

"Arthur, what are you-"

"Hold on, Alfred. Just... Let him find it." Arthur said.

In his mind, he was beginning to worry himself, unable to remember what he may have written in that particular entry, but he could never forget what he'd done after putting the pen down. He was doing this for Alfred. America had to learn that he wasn't alone. He wasn't the only one who'd thought so lowly of themselves after such a catastrophic event in his country's history.

"Alright, I have it." Ludwig announced, glancing back over to the American and the Brit. "Are you sure you want me to read this out now? You don't want to wait until-"

"The sooner, the better." Arthur said. He let out a quick, sharp breath, closing his eyes. "When you're ready."

Ludwig sighed, and began to read once more.