Alfred wanted to know. He wanted to ask the man who left his mother; he wanted to ask him why he left, why he deserted them. But he just too afraid to ask. Everytime he would try and ask him, those piercing blue eyes would stare into his soul, and deminshed his courage, and the only thing he could do was stutter or run away. Alfred had his eyes; that's what his mother would always tell him.
His mother had told him all about his father when he was little. His father was tall, and had piercing blue eyes, which Alfred had inherited. He had blonde hair, and didn't talk very much. But he never needed words to tell how he was feeling. His mother would laugh when she told him how shy and socially awkward he was. When he first met her, he would stutter and mumble things because he was so shy.
"He said I was the most beautiful women he'd ever seen." she once said.
"... Then, why did he leave?" Alfred asked, looked at his mother.
His mother was silent for a moment, trying to find the right way to answer her son.
"Well, your father didn't love me anymore."
Those words broke Alfred's heart. How could his own father not love his mother anymore? He knew who he was, but every time he would try and confront him, he would chicken out and run away. Every time he saw him he would try, but every time he would end up failing.
When he had found out about his father adopting a little boy, he was beyond pissed, but kept his mouth shut about it. Why did his father adopt a child when he already had a son? But then, he remember his mother's words.
"Does he know about me? Does he know he has a son? Does he know it's me?" It was one question after the other. Alfred didn't even give his mother time to answer him. He just so flustered about his father adopting a son.
"Alfred, calm down. I can't answer you if you don't calm down." his mother said. There was always something about his mother's voice that soothed him, and he was able to calm down quickly, now allowing his mother to speak.
"I... never told your father about you."
Alfred almost exploded, but kept it inside, knowing his mother would have an explaination.
"I found out I was pregnant with you after he left me. Had I told him, he would of come back and help me raise you. But I couldn't let him do that."
Alfred was confused. "What do you mean?"
"I didn't want your father to be unhappy."
He still didn't understand why his mother said that. He thought the only way to find out was to confront his father himself, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. But today was the day. He was going to confront his father about all this. He would not chicken out or run away or stutter or loose his courage. He had to ask him. He needed to ask him.
He walked outside, and saw his father, standing tall next to his "wife" and "son". Alfred stood behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. The man turned around to meet Alfred's eyes with his own. Those eyes looked into Alfred's soul and chills ran down the American's spine. There goes his courage.
"Oh, h'llo there Alfred."
Ask him, ask him, ask him! His conscience was screaming at him.
"H-hey, there Berwald."
Damn it, quick studdering you idiot!
"... Is there anyth'ng I can h'lp you with?"
Do it, do it, do it! Don't chicken out! Alfred wanted to ask him so badly, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Oh, no. I just wanted to see how you were doing."
Damn it. You little chicken shit.
"Oh... I'm f'ne. You?" Berwald replied.
"Good, good. Well, I better get going. Things to do, people to see. You know how it is!" Alfred laughed.
Berwald chucked. "Indeed I do. W'll, see you l'ater then."
"Okay, bye!" Alfred said, then ran off, waving back at the Swede.
Alfred leaned against a brick wall. He couldn't believe it. He chickened out again. Why couldn't he just ask him? Why, why, why? The American had remember his mother's words.
"I didn't want him to be unhappy."
Alfred still didn't umderstand, but then came to a conlusion. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn't know.
Perhaps it was for the best.
This is just a little drabble I wrote when I couldn't sleep. I wanted to experiment with my head canon a little bit, and came up with this. My head canon is that Sweden really is America's father, and only America knows this. Alfred doesn't understand why Sweden left his mother, but Alfred's mother never told him that Berwald was a homosexual. And Alfred's too dense to figure that out on his own. (It actually is a fact that Sweden really is a homosexual.)
Terribly sorry if there are any mistakes and what not. Like I mentioned before, I wrote this when I couldn't sleep, and by the time I was done, I was struggling to stay awake. x'D
Enjoy and please review~