Story: Sticks and Stones, Chapter 4 - Sentimental Bonds
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia...

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"This is all my fault... Damn it." France gently held England's head close to his chest, as the brit sobbed. He'd honestly never seen England so upset before, with the exception of right after the Revolutionary war, which he knew neither of them would particularly like to remember.

It truly pained him seeing both him and America beating themselves up like this. Even though it was true that England and him quarreled a lot, he still greatly cared for, and respected the Brit, for they were brothers, after all. They were family. He'd swore to himself long ago that no matter what, he would always be there for him. When it came right down to it in all seriousness, he would do anything in his power to protect him, not as France, either. But rather, as Francis Bonnefoy.

Alfred and Matthieu none-the-less. That's when he suddenly recalled the last world meeting. America had came in, a lot paler than normal that day. It was taken notice of by quite a few different nations, such as Japan, Italy, Russia Canada, England and himself.

"America-san, you look rather pale. If you don't mind me asking, have you eaten anything today?" Japan asked, slightly awkwardly.

"Da. You almost look like Canada." Russia said, smiling innocently, as he received a slight glare from said Canadian. America gave a big grin, which was clearly forced.

"Of course I've eaten, dude. Why wouldn't I? I'm just a little..." he paused briefly, evidently considering his words. "sick is all."

Japan studied him for a moment, before gazing away. "...I see."

After that, Germany had announced the beginning of the meeting, however, all throughout the entire time they were there, France couldn't help but notice that America had kept swaying in his chair, every so often holding a hand up to his forehead in an attempt to stop swaying. At the time, France hadn't payed as much mind to it as what he would have if he'd known what he knew now.

At first, he'd been somewhat suspicious of America, regarding his obviously depressive behavior, but had no idea, whatsoever, that the boy was practically starving himself. It truly pulled some strings within him, and he as well shed some tears that day.

"France?" England looked up at the Frenchman, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Are you crying?"

"Oh, am I?" he then reached up, wiping moisture from his eyes, realizing that he had, in fact, been crying, after all. A moment later, he smiled, "Well, I guess I am, non?"

England said nothing, a pained expression on his face, as he only looked away. France's smile faded.

"Is something wrong, Angleterre?" France questioned softly, with worry obvious in every word. "...It's just, how should I put this...? I need your help..." a light flush had formed on the gentleman's face, as he realized he'd somehow found himself relying on him, of all people. Oh, you wouldn't believe the embarrassment!

A moment passed, before France smiled once again. "Of course, If it's anything within my power, I'd be glad to."

"...I see, thank you." England replied, giving a small, but genuine smile. "I want to do something special for America, for Alfred, but I..."

Meanwhile, with America...

America walked throughout his town, not fully sure he was going, but in all honesty, it'd been like forever since he'd left the house, so for once, he actually felt good to get out. He sighed. To bad that that good feeling probably would last too long. Knowing his luck, some drunkard or some other person, could come by at any minute, and say something or make some kind of comment, or do something of the sort that results in his mood being sourly soured, and him being in a foul mood for the rest of the day.

But it didn't matter, he supposed. Besides, he wanted to do something, or go somewhere but where, or what? There had to have been some kind of shop or something somewhere nearby to get his mind off of his problems, right?

Suddenly, an idea came to mind. "Oh, I know. I'll call Japan."

Despite how pointless it might prove to be, It didn't hurt to try, right? Right.

Taking his cell phone out of his pocket, he dialed the person whom he considered to be his only friend. He bit his lip, nervous as the phone began to ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Moshimoshi." America practically cried out to the heavens when Japan actually answered, however, somehow or another, he managed to refrain from doing so.

"Hey, dude, Japan, what's up?"

"America-san?"

"Yeah, it's me." America confirmed. "Anyway, um... Are you by any chance busy?"

Japan seemed to have noticed the tone in his voice, which he hadn't intended to let show. "Iie, not exactly. Nande?"

"Cool! Do you think you could come over, then?" America questioned.

"Nani?!" the Asian exclaimed over the phone. "I can't-I'm-What do you-"

"Come on dude, please?" he pleaded. There was a long silence, before Japan finally sighed in defeat. "Fine...I'll be over tomorrow."

"Thanks so much, dude! I really do have to go now."

"Ja, mata aa ne." came Japan's voice.

"Kay, bye." With that, he hung up the phone, somewhat smiling. He was extremely glad that Japan had been willing to pick up the phone. He really was. At the time, he hadn't even been sure of himself, and would've probably would've ended up doing something irrational if it weren't for him.

'Thanks, Japan. You don't even know how much this really meant to me.' then he got to thinking. Maybe he had a friend he could trust, after all. He sighed. But then again...

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A/N: What did you think? Please review with any suggestions you may have.

Iie - No

Nande? - Why?

Nani? - What?

Ja, mata aa ne! - Okay, see you tomorrow.

Arigatou. Metane! :0)

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