Story: Sticks and Stones. Chapter 11 (Final) - America the Beautiful
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia...

Not the best, but the moral is (sort of at the end of the story)

"Where are we?" America asked.

"We're at the hospital." Canada, surprisingly, was the first one to speak up.

"Hai." Japan nodded. "You passed out at the end of the meeting earlier. Do you remember?"

"I passed out?" America questioned, as he struggled to set up. It was all still a bit fuzzy, but he soon recalled everything else. Leaving late, the meeting, and, vaguely, falling into England's arms before everything had turned to black. "Oh, right, I did..."

"Why have you been doing this to yourself, Amerique?" France asked. Truthfully, he knew the answer, but he wanted America to be honest with not only them, but himself as well.

This caused America to shutter. He knew he couldn't lie his way out of it this time. He would have to face them sooner or later.

That's when England spoke, surprising all of them.

"This is all my fault..." the Brit spoke, looking away. Tears threatened to fall, but somehow, he still managed to hold them back. France and Canada gave him a look of worry, while the others just stared, slightly confused.

"What are you talking about, England?" Italy asked. America looked at him, with a mixture of worry, and confusion. Why was England blaming himself, for something like that? It was him who chose to chose to starve himself, wasn't it? More importantly, why did it bother him so much? Why were they all there? Most of them hated him, or at least disliked him, didn't they? So why show concern now?

"England, wha-" he began to speak, but was immediately interrupted by England.

"Yeah, you bloody heard me!" the Brit exclaimed. "All of this; it's my fault, right? I've never been the best at expressing myself, which is why all we ever do is fuss. Because I'm so bad at just saying, "You really shouldn't eat so much", I end up insulting and berating you; I end up saying stuff I really regret later. Because of me, you go off and starve yourself. You passed out at the meeting, all because I'm a horrible brother to you. All those years ago, when you said you wanted your independence, I didn't know how to react. I didn't want to lose you. I didn't want you to just walk away, and forget it all. I wanted to protect you. More than anything else, I wanted you to stay innocent to the ways of the world. But now you've seen what I desired to keep you from seeing; misjudgement, wars, blood, poverty, betrayal, death, loss... But, still, just because I'm such a horrible brother for not being able to stop you from these seeing all those things, and insulting you, you have no bloody right to blame yourself, or stop doing what you love, just because you think you found sense in all the things I've said before."

America was immediately taken by surprise when England pulled him into an embrace, letting himself freely cry over his shoulder. "You stupid git... Hate me all you want; curse me, tell me to curse myself, or insult me, but don't you dare think another negative thought about yourself. You are America the beautiful. The Home of the brave. You have no bloody right to be sad."

America felt tears in his eyes, soon after returning the embrace.

"England; Arthur... I was never mad at you, and I never will be, but..., all those years ago, I left you...mainly because I didn't want to have to rely on you forever. I didn't want to feel so helpless. I wanted to be able to protect you like you had me... For once, I've always wanted you to be proud of me, but I guess it seemed like the exact opposite... A lot of times, I seem oblivious, but down deep, I really do look up to you. I'm sorry I couldn't make that any clearer..."

"No, don't apologize... I'll always be proud of you, you bloody git..." England trailed off into silence, shaking his head. Both of them were crying now, and couldn't seem to stop.

Alfred, in many ways you're even stronger than I am. So always stay that way, and be the hero I know you to be. England thought, tears freely running down his cheeks, France and everything else gave a soft smile. And just like that, everything was...solved.

Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words can hurt the most.

Both physical and mental wounds hurt, but it's typically the mental scars that take the longest to heal, especially when it's your own family causing them; your own flesh and blood. One small wound can reopen numerous wounds of the past, making it a lot bigger. Not all wounds heal very quickly, but some, with the proper treatment, will heal, and in turn, you may come out of it even stronger than before.

A/N: Eh...What did you think? Sorry for such a y, abrupt, and OOC chapter... I really am... Please review if you will, and please, if you think it could improved somehow, tell me. Merci~