Title: War Games

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Rating: M for sensitive content and language.

Warnings: Original Characters. Not beta'd. Use of human names. Sensitive Content.

Summary: Alexander and Benjamin meet at an Allied War Camp by coincidence. They get to talking.

Characters Story-wise: Alexander Jones (New York State OC), Benjamin Jones (State of Pennsylvania OC). Mentions of Elizabeta Hedevary (Hungary), Roderich Edelstein (Austria), Feliks (Poland), Gilbert (Prussia), Ludwig (Germany), Arthur Kirkland (England), Alfred F. Jones (America), Virginia Jones (State of Virginia OC) and Tex Jones (State of Texas OC).

A/N: I don't mean to offend anyone. I don't own Hetalia. Alexander belongs to me and Ben belongs to CheshireMax. I wrote this in Latin class after it just came to me off the top of my head and wouldn't leave me alone. I know, I know, I have other things to be working on. Leave me alone, I feel like sharing.

Based during World War 2 a month or so after the Invasion at Normandy.


Benjamin Jones dropped his heavy, military-issue pack on the cot he had been issued, glad to have finally reached the base camp. His fellow soldiers had already started for the food line, and his stomach growled loudly. His lunch of a MRE seemed as if it had been forever ago. He pushed through the flap of the tent and headed towards the chow line.

The Pennsylvanian secured a bowl of chowder and a hunk of bread then slunk to the edge of camp to enjoy his meal in semi-privacy. Ben sat on a half-rotted log, glad for the relief brought to his travel-worn feet. He set his bread in his lap and brought the metal bowl to his lips; the chowder scalded his tounge but brought peace to his growling stomach. The American state dipped his sourdough hunk into the soup and chewed on it morosely, wishing the aches of his body away. He knew it was a vain hope; the next day would bring more war, more fighting, and more pain. As long as the Nazi regime still held strong, Benjamin knew he would still hurt.

"Well, looky who it is," said an all too familiar voice, taking the soldier's mind off his pains. "Haven't seen you in ages, Ben. Didn't know ya'd come out to beat the shit outta the uncles with me'n Dad."

Ben looked up and observed the speaker. Light brown hair which was secured under a drab military cap, light blue eyes that twinkled with mischief (although they didn't sparkle as much as the last time he had seen them), a million dollar smile shone from between chapped lips, and a grungy American Infantry uniform graced the man's figure. Pennsylvania would know him anywhere. ". . . Alex."

"'Sup?" The Empire State parked himself on the log next to him older brother. "Still a stick in the mud, then?"

"Shut up, dummkopf!"

"Careful, keep talkin' like that an' you'll be labeled a traitor." Alexander leaned over and broke a piece off of his brother's bread, popping it into his mouth like he would a candy. "How long you been out here, then? What Unit you in?"

"Nineteenth United States Army Corp. I've been on the ground for almost two months."

"Oh. Well, I've been out here for 'bout four, give or take. War's changed a lot since the Civil War, huh?"

"Shut up, dumbass!" Benjamin growled. "Are you trying to get us in trouble?"

"Nah, man, calm down. You came in after Normandy right? You shoulda come through London. You stop and see Gramps?"

"Of course not. Why the hell would I want to visit that jackass?"

"Still got a grudge? That's cute, Penn. Well, I went. And daaaamn, the Blitz's really doin' him in, man. I ain't sure how much longer Gramps can keep it up. He's only so strong, y'know."

Benjamin finished his chowder before responding. "So?"

"So, that means we've gotta find that bastard Uncle Luddy and make 'im see the light!" New York exclaimed. "Hitler's got 'im brainwashed, just like he did Uncle Roddy before he snapped outta it! Speakin' of 'im, we gotta find him, Uncle Feliks, and Aunty 'Liza. No one's seen 'em in ages. We should swoop in and save 'em, hero style!"

Pennsylvania stared at him younger brother. "You've been listening to Vater too much."

"That's 'cause Dad's awesome!" The black-haired man rolled his eyes and reached up to fiddle with Philadelphia. New York stole the rest of his bread and chewed on it while reaching into his pocket. He flashed a box in front of Pennsylvania's nose. "Want one?"

Benjamin looked down at the box. "Cigs? Sure."

Alex shook one out of the box and gave it to him. Ben pulled out a matchbook and the twostates light their cigarettes from a single match. Pennsylvania let the acrid smoke penetrate his lungs as he watched his brother blow smoke rings. The brunette caught him staring and winked. "Gotta keep somethin' 'sides a good aim from my Mafia days, don't I?"

Ben grunted and took another pull on his cigarette. "How can you be so damn carefree? We're at war, not the carnival, dumbass."

"Don't I know it?" Alex replied cheerfully, "The carnival is way less muddy." He took another drag on the cancerstick and blew a stream of smoke out his nose before replying. "Well, the way I see it, I can either get all mopey an' depressed like you or I can look at everythin' goin' on in a positive light. Sure, we lost a coupla guys today, but the rest of us got home all right an' our guns didn't jam. That's gotta count for somethin', don't it?"

"Those guys belonged to Virginia and Tex," Benjamin growled. "You're an idiot."

"Thanks, Ben. Love ya, too." Alex finished his cigarette and snuffed it out on the ground, then placed the butt in his breast pocket along with his lucky cross. "Gotta ask, though. Why you here, Ben? Ain't the home front more your thing, with your factories an' all?"

"I could ask the same of you," Pennsylvania replied. "Why are you here?"

"To help Dad, o' course!" The brunette stated it as if it was obvious. "Duh. Also hope I can get my licks in on Uncle Luddy and Gil. But if I can't, that's 'kay. Gramps and Feliks have a bigger bone to pick with 'em then I do. What about you? You like, hate Dad. I can't see why you'd be here, fightin' for him."

Benjamin shrugged. "I don't know. Just felt wrong staying home."

"Mmmm." New York bobbed his head in agreement. "I hear ya. . . So, when you get home, what're you gonna do first? I'mma grab some pizza, a beer, and maybe pick up a hooker. It's been a while since I've had a fuck. You?"

"Cheese steak," Ben grunted. "Cheese steak, chocolate, and a soda pop."

"Sounds good. Your cheese steaks are the best. You should invite me over when you make 'em." There was silence between the two of them, and then a shrill whistle rang through the camp.

"Well, that's my cue." Alexander stood up and stretched mightily. "Goin' out on duty. Fight some Nazi shits, fuck yeah. I'll see ya later, Ben." The New Yorker began to head purposefully back to camp and his older brother watched him go.

"Oi, moron!"

The brunette stopped and about faced. "What?"

"Don't get shot, dumbass!"

New York's face split into a grin and he shot his older brother a finger gun. "Sure thing, Penn! Later!" he turned again and loped off towards where his division would be meeting up.

Pennsylvania watched him go, shook his head, and snuffed out the remains of the cigarette the brunette had given him. Some things would never change, even in the face of war.