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February 16, 2011
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(Contains: violence/gore)
A ship had pulled up into the harbor. The crew members aboard the ship set about docking the ship. The citizens who walked on the boardwalk glared up at the ship's crew and flag. A Union Jack on the mast blew prominently in the wind as the red coated crew prepared to make foot on land.

A man on board lay in his hammock. Unlike his fellow crew members, he was exempt from doing his duties on the ship. The man was clearly tired for he was sleep deprived. He ran a hand through his blond locks and looked at the empty hammocks before him.

He had a good reason for not being able to sleep. It had been that way ever since he had heard the news nearly month a before.

A man sat down before his boss, King George III. He hadn't the slightest clue why he had been summoned so suddenly.

The King sighed, knowing that any way he broke the news to his country would be terrible.

"Here," the King passed a document to the man.

The man took the document from him and skimmed it.

"America wants to go to war with us. He and his people demand their freedom, their independence," the King finally broke the news.

The man before him could not believe it as he gazed over this declaration, the Declaration of Independence. On the document, the man noticed many signatures, one of the most prominent being that of John Hancock's. He also spotted a signature that he dreaded to see, that of his younger brother.

"We must go to war with these Americans and remind them of their place under us, the British Empire!" King George III decided.

The King's country tossed the document to the side.

"There must be some kind of mistake! America wouldn't act as rebellious as this! Something must be wrong. This isn't like him!" the man defended America.

"There is no mistaking it, England," his boss replied. "Now go to the New World and tame that wild dog. If you can convince him to stop this nonsense of wanting his independence there will be no war. If not, we, the British, will show him and his people what we are made out of. Now go!"

England immediately left the room, running as fast as he could.

"America, how could do something so rash? You idiot!" he cursed as he ran.

He needed to go to the New World as soon as possible.


One of the red coats aboard the ship went below deck to the man.

"Mr. England, sir. The ship is docked. You may go ashore now," the red coat informed him.

"Thank you," England replied.

The country got up from his hammock and went up to the deck. Like his fellow crew members, he also wore a red coat uniform. He found the captain of the ship to let captain know that he was leaving.

"Don't stir up any trouble while I negotiate things over with America," he warned the captain.

The captain assured him that nothing would happen until England gave the order.

Satisfied with this, England exited the ship, walking on to the boardwalk. As he walked towards his destination, he received many cold glares and even some verbal insults.

He finally reached the huge house in which America lived after enduring this torment. Once there, he pounded on the door.

"America, I know that you are in there. Open up!" he called out.

He waited there and after several minutes the door did open up. In the doorway he saw America. The boy had certainly grown and had become taller than England. The young man gazed at England knowingly.

"I somehow knew that you would come here sooner or later," the boy remarked.

England hit him right across the face.

"You bloody idiot, America!" he hissed at him. "How dare you go behind my back!"

The slap from England stung America. He could tell that England was clearly very upset at him. Alfred hid his feelings of pain from Arthur.

"How could you!" England asked. "I thought that you trusted me! I-," he cut himself off as he realized that he was now crying.

He had come there to show his strength, not his weakness. Arthur wiped away his tears and raised his hand to slap Alfred again, but Alfred grabbed his hand before it hit his face a second time.

"Hitting me will do you no good," Alfred told him.

America then dragged his ruler into the house, closing and locking the door behind them. Alfred released Arthur once they were in his home. A moment later, Alfred began to walk through his vast home, his hand over his face where England had hit him. Arthur had been right on Alfred's heels, yelling at him.

America finally stopped in front of one of the many doors in his house.

"Are you even listening to me?" Arthur demanded to know. "Everything I have done for your country, for your well being, it was all for you and now you go and do this! Did everything that I did mean nothing to you!"

The young man turned around to face the older country. His hand was still on his face.

"No. It did not mean nothing. I am thankful for everything that you have done for me, Arthur," America said.

England was able to see now the damage that he done. He gently grabbed America's hand away from the injury that was now beginning to bruise. Carefully, he touched the bruise.

"I'm sorry," England apologized.

"You were angry. I understand. I'll be fine. I will need to endure some pain to make it through this."

America was remaining calm despite the circumstances.

"Do you want me to get you something to treat it with?" England offered.

Alfred shook his head.

"No. Besides, you should get going. There is a war that you need to be preparing for," he answered simply.

"That is why I am here, to stop this ridiculous war before it begins. We need not fight. You just need to remain under the rule of the British and all will be alright again. You'll see," he promised.

He moved his hand away from America's face and embraced the young man.

"Please. I don't want to go to war against someone precious to me," England whispered, the tears coming back to him. "Don't make me do this. Please, Alfred."

He felt America return the embrace.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. But I have no choice. I have to do this."

America broke the embrace and opened up the door to his room.

"Give us your all, England, and we will return fire. Independence from you, from all nations of the Old World, that is my future!" America declared.

England knocked on the door, crying out America's name. Before long, some American citizens entered the house of their up and coming country. They grabbed England, punching and kicking at him and forcing him out of the house. America did nothing to stop them.

America looked out of one of the windows of the house, watching his enemy yell at some of the Americans for daring to hurt him. England picked himself up from the dirt and made his way back to the docks.

"Am I doing the right thing?" Alfred asked himself as he gazed out the window. "He will never know that I am doing this for the good of both us."
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The time of bliss had come to a sad, bitter end. Rain poured down in thick sheets on to the battlefield. Rivers of mud made their way across the field.

The two men faced each other directly on the battlefield. One was cloaked in the prominent uniform of the British army, a red coat. His golden tresses were dripping wet. He was breathing hard. The war had been hard on him.

The other man looked at his foe, his blue eyes full of determination. He knew that it all would end soon. He just had to make sure that it ended in such a way that would be beneficial to him.

England looked at America. America sure had grown up over the years. Unlike his usual carefree self, America was serious this time. England knew that they both needed to wrap this whole thing up and soon. Too much energy and resources had been used in this war already.

"America..." England called out to his enemy. "Please. We must stop now."

His younger brother nodded in agreement and grasped on to his musket tightly.

"Hey, Britain, all I want is my freedom. I'm no longer a child nor your little brother. From now on, consider me independent!" America firmly announced his resolve.

England was shocked by America's words. This wasn't happening. The past few years had all just be one horrid nightmare, right? Even if it all wasn't a nightmare, he would not allow this to happen. He couldn't.

Immediately, he charged at America, holding out his own musket. America saw him coming and used his musket as a guard. The two muskets clashed together. America's musket flew into the air before landing in the mud.

England took in a deep breaths as he pointed his musket right at America.

"I won't allow it! You idiot! Why can't you follow anything through to the end?" he yelled at America.

There was a moment of silence. The two enemies looked at each other intensely. America kept his eyes on the bayonet in England's hands.

England was just as firm as America was. He would not allow Alfred to become his own country. He had to keep him from doing so by any cost.

It was a fatal moment, a moment in which England could not recall what he did. But a second later, there was the sound of a gun shot that rang throughout the battlefield. Then, before his eyes, Alfred fell to the ground, blood gushing out of his heart. It was then that Arthur had realized what he had done.

The musket fell from his hands. Arthur fell to his knees and began to hit America's face gently, hoping that this action would somehow bring America back to life.

"Alfred! Alfred!" he cried out. "Don't let go! Come back!"

America gave no reply, his blue eyes looking lifelessly up into the sky. It was then that true tears began to flow from Arthur's eyes.

He cradled Alfred's corpse, continuing to call out for America. America's blood stained his uniform, not that he cared at the moment. Arthur was hoping, praying, that somehow the boy could return to him, alive and well. He could not stop sobbing. The pain was too great.

"You idiot! Bloody idiot!" Arthur cursed to himself about what he had done.

He gazed down at Alfred's corpse, continuing to cry.

"If-If only you had listened to me!" he cried.

The rain continued to pour, refusing to clear out.
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"Alfred F. Jones, beloved colony, brother, and friend," read the tombstone of the former collection of colonies in the New World.

A fresh bouquet of lilies lay on the grave. Seated in front of the grave was a country. His tears had yet to cease. Arthur could not seem to stop crying.

"Please, forgive me," he begged, directly his words towards the grave. "Please, Alfred."

England closed his eyes. But it did him no good. All he could see were memories of the boy. Even when he eyes were open, all he could see was America's face. The boy was haunting him, making sure that England would never forget him.

The moment that he had seen that America was dead, his heart had split in two. It was true that England had truly loved America. Everything that he had done, he had done for Alfred's sake and no one else's.

England stood up from his position by the grave. He ran and kept on running. His vision was blurred by his tears, but that did not matter now. He just had to keep moving.

At last, he reached a cliff. The sun was beginning to set now, shades of reds and oranges filling up the sky.

Arthur stood at the edge of the cliff, taking in the moment.

"No one loved you like I did," he said, looking up towards the sky. He was certain that Alfred's innocent soul had reached paradise in the afterlife. "I don't know what happened. It was just... I wanted you to be mine and mine alone. The world is a scary place and without you in it, this world is empty."

England wiped away his tears.

"May we see each other in the afterlife."

"Or perhaps once more time in this life," Arthur heard a familiar voice speak inside his head.

He could not tell where the voice came from.

A moment later he saw a rock pass by his head. The rock plunged over the cliff, making a loud splash in the river below. England turned around, sensing a presence behind him.

There before him was a somewhat translucent soldier. This soldier gazed at him with intense blue eyes. The soldier's uniform was stained with mud and blood. The blood stains on the uniform originated from his heart.

England collapsed down on his knees, crying.

"Alfred," he sobbed.

The ghost responded to his name and gently touched the head of the sobbing country. Arthur only felt something cold touch his head, like the hand of a corpse.

"Please forgive me," Arthur begged through his tears. "I only did what needed to be done. I'm so sorry!"

Alfred observed his former ruler. Arthur was a pitiful site to behold at the moment, a complete wreck. He did not respond to England's request.

Their moment together was interrupted as some American soldiers came on to the cliff top. They identify England easily, for he had continued wearing the same uniform in which he had killed America in. The men grabbed at England, this time truly hurting him and torturing him before throwing him off of the cliff.

The world around Arthur blurred as he fell. The only thing that he could see clearly was America hovering above the river, watching the poor man fall.

England's body hit the sharp rocks of the river. America's ghost went over to the broken corpse. He carefully touched the corpse.

"You were once so great," America said. "Now look at you. Don't let go, isn't that what you told me?"

He continued to look down at England's body.

"I forgive you, Arthur. Perhaps we should give this all a go one more time?"

The world around them blurred as the clocks turned back, back to the time when things could be set right again.
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Rain poured continuously over the battlefield, seeming like it would never let up.

Two man glared at each other, each ready to end this war.

"Hey, Britain, all I want is my freedom. I'm no longer a child nor your little brother. From now on, consider me independent!" America declared.

England could not believe what he was hearing. He charged at America, bayonet in hand. America used his musket as a shield. England's musket hit America's musket sharply. Alfred's weapon flew out of his hands and on to the ground.

Arthur pointed his weapon right at Alfred.

"I won't allow it! You idiot! Why can't you follow anything through to the end?" he cried.

"Ready? Aim!" a soldier on America's side instructed his troops.

The soldiers behind America held out their guns, ready to fire when the order was given. There was a moment of intense silence between the two men. Alfred kept a close watch on Arthur's musket that was pointing right at him.

Suddenly, England moved the musket away from America. He realized something important. No matter how hard he tried, he would not allow himself to do it.

"There's no way I can shoot you," he surrendered. "I can't!"

He tossed his musket away. Arthur fell on to the ground and began to cry.

"Why? Damn it! Why!" he sobbed. "It's not fair!"

Alfred looked down at Arthur, feeling sorry for his former ruler.

"You know why," he told him. "What happened? I remember when you were great."

The rain continued to pour with no signs of stopping.
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It had been many years since that faithful day. Arthur sat down before his latest boss. This boss smiled at him.

"I called you here today for an important reason. I am very happy to announce that we have gained a significant ally. He is staying here for a little while, so I would appreciate it if you show him around and treat him kindly. We need all the allies that we can get."

"Of course," England agreed.

"He's waiting for you in the hallway," England's boss said. "Now go. We mustn't keep him waiting."

Arthur left the room and went into the hallway outside.

Standing in the hallway observing some of the many portraits was tall man. He stared at the portraits with curious blue eyes. The man was dressed in a nice suit, even though he appeared to be much more comfortable in casual clothes.

Arthur's mouth nearly fell open when he saw the man. He smiled to himself secretly, before finally making his presence known.

"See? You do look nice dressed up," England told the man.

The man turned his attention away from the portraits to England.

"Hello, England," the man greeted.

"Good morning, America," Arthur replied. "Any particular reason why you have come back to the British Empire for help?"

"I don't need your help. I just needs allies, good friends, people that I know that I can count on. People like you."

America smiled.

"I was hoping that you would be my ally, seeing as we did share a past together and I am unfamiliar with most of you European countries," Alfred explained his reasoning. "Will you be that country for me, Arthur?"

Arthur nodded and walked over to Alfred.

"Welcome to England," Arthur officially greeted Alfred. "Allow me to show you some of the fine institutions that we have here."

"Will you tell me those boring stories again? Those stories used to always make me go to sleep."

"Those stories were histories and you have certainly made some history of your own," England reminded him.

"Right, those things. Hey, before we go anywhere, can we get some food? I'm starving!"America requested.

"Typical America," Arthur thought to himself before agreeing to take Alfred out for some food.

After that day, America and England became strong allies, even if they did have plenty of arguments along the way.
So yeah. Here we go, another Hetalia fan fiction.

This little piece of fan art was inspired by the work Aut me aut nihil by the lovely and very talented :iconyuri-to-momoka:! You should totally check out her gallery! ^-^

The title of this fan fiction is from a verse from a song that I was playing on YouTube nonstop while I wrote this. The song can be found here.

Also I took some of the dialogue during the fight scenes from the English dub of Hetalia, so much credit goes to the writers and translators at Funimation.

Hetalia (C) Hidekaz Himaruya, Funimation
Tears of an Angel (C) RyanDan
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:iconthenamesiggykirkland:
TheNamesIggyKirkland Featured By Owner Dec 30, 2011   Photographer
...you naughty author! You had me fooled for a bit there - I thought it was going to be one hell of a depressing story once you killed Alfred. Not matter, however, because you brought him back! Now I'm happy again!

This was a great story, one of my favourites now, actually. I had a lot of depth to it, and I especially liked how you rewrote the revolution scene! Bravo! Bravo!

Ciao mio amico di talento!
~Iggy~
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:iconxxcheshirecat811xx:
xXCheshireCat811Xx Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2011
Epic. That is all. there are no other words for this
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:iconinsaneinmembrane:
insaneinmembrane Featured By Owner Sep 15, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
e fight part from the anime brought me to tears! Beautiful job!
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:iconxaylu:
Xaylu Featured By Owner Mar 11, 2011  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
:iconcryforeverplz: This is really good, congrats.
I love the song, too! It also inspired me to do a USUK drawing, so when I saw the title of your fanfiction I immediatle knew it was inspired on the song!
Reply
:iconzombiepirates:
zombiepirates Featured By Owner Mar 12, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you so much! I'm glad that you liked it! ^-^
Reply
:iconkeybladerr:
KeyBladerr Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Wow wow wow! That was wonderful! I could tell the dialogue was from the dub though...but oh well! Great job nonetheless! You really have a talent for this! =D
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:iconzombiepirates:
zombiepirates Featured By Owner Mar 12, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you so much! I'm glad that you liked it!
Reply
:iconkeybladerr:
KeyBladerr Featured By Owner Mar 13, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
:D You're welcome! =
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:icondeiichi-seishou:
Deiichi-Seishou Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2011
:tears: So beautiful
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:iconzombiepirates:
zombiepirates Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks! ^-^
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