Warnings: Angst, fluff and loving someone so much it hurts. Take a glimpse of Alicia and Gilbert's relationship, and how truly simple love can be. This is based off an rp which you can request for by sending me a PM. Also contains a few Frali scenes, for the fans of that (I still can't believe you guys exist) and more pairings. Supposedly just six chapters, but that's subject to change under prior notice.

For best results, read this chapter with this song playing in your ears: Bright Lights and Cityscapes by Sara Bareilles

General knowledge (especially for those who haven't read Ocean Blue or A Few Good Men): Alicia Aragon is the representation of the Crown of Aragon, Spain; now known as the region, Aragon. She and Francis were together in early 1500-1600s. They've been together until recently, when Alicia had a change of heart, and fell in love with Gilbert. Antonio approves (I mean, why wouldn't he?).

Hetalia x The Fault in Our Stars (by John Green)

I figured that, of all stories this show has been crossed with, this one should be taken into perspective.


"Conjoiner rejoinder prisoner concealer revelator. Look at it, rising up and rising down.

Taking everything with it."

"What's that?"

"Water.

And, well… Time."

~John Green


Prologue

It was almost like he couldn't breathe, and Gilbert tried his very best not to just follow after her. He could have. He considered that he should have. But he remembered his brother – his son – whom he promised to stay alive for. For the longest time, he had been trying to convince himself that Ludwig was enough. But here he was, blankly staring at a wall for five hours, because it had been confirmed that Alicia's body had given up. She was gone. And it was only then that he realized that he hadn't been living until he met her – and now, what his life would and could have been had gone with her. For the first time in a long time, he felt incredibly and hopelessly empty.

These past few months… He had lived because of her.

Texts began to pour in from his little brother. The German must have gotten wind of the news, but at the moment, Gilbert didn't have the heart in him to mind.

Brother, I'm sorry. I just heard.

Brother, please say something. Antonio has been trying to call you. Please pick up.

Brother… You really loved her, didn't you?

The last message got him to sober up from his inebriety on sorrow, just enough to send a reply to Ludwig.

Love. Present tense.


When people would go into the emergency room, even if you're writhing in pain, or screaming bloody murder, they'll ask you to rate the pain from one to ten, ten being the most painful. For every time that Ludwig had brought the albino to the hospital (more often than not, against the Prussian's will), they would repetitively ask the Prussian this to know if medications were working or what not.

He had always said, no matter how painful it was to bear, no matter how excruciating, that it was a nine. The doctors even commended him, "I know you're a fighter," they would say, "Because you call a ten, a nine."

But it wasn't. He was saving his ten, for something more terrible, something beyond what he could comprehend. And here it was. His great ten, washing over him like how waves eat up the shore. He could be carried off, sunk into it, but he couldn't drown. He almost wanted to beg the stars to take him right there and then. He could barely even blink without seeing her face, hearing her voice, feeling her touch, or her soft lips against his cheek. It was all so vivid. All so real – and now – all too gone. He couldn't even give himself his old reasons, where he didn't want to be forgotten or wanted to be remembered. Those were the lies, the bullshit he came up with to cover up the truth.

He loves her so much. So, so much, in fact.

How to be okay after something like that?


Lovino had gone out of the ICU to finally say something to him. His eyes were livid. Bags were under his eyes. He couldn't even look straight at the Prussian. He did his best, and he still felt like he failed his mother, Antonio and the Prussian who loved his mother, "… You should stay with us until the funeral on Sunday."

"It's not your fault." And the albino knew it to be true. He wanted to blame someone – anyone – because the universe was too cruel, too flighty. It gave you the wonders of the world one day, and takes it from you the next. He had always known that one of them would die. He just never thought that it would be her.

"Gilbert." Lovino had sat down on the bench right beside him, turning to him.

"Yeah?" he asked, not really wanting to carry a conversation. How could they talk about it, anyway? He felt a heavy loss. He was sure Lovino would feel the same way.

He handed the Prussian a folded-up piece of paper, "I don't know if we've said it before, but she doesn't leave home without it."

Gilbert knew just what it was. And as he took it in his trembling hands, he began to cry again, "D-Danke."

The Italian wasn't sure if giving it back was the best idea, seeing as the mere sight of it made the Prussian burst into tears in memory of her.


When Gilbert walked into the cathedral in the city of Zaragosa, he stopped at the last two pews. There were quite a number of people, half of them he didn't even know. He recognized most of them as common town-folk – because Alicia loved her city, and everyone who lived in it. He could see several of Antonio's colonies and brothers up in the front, and he felt like walking back and just leaving, regardless of whether he was already dressed and ready for the occasion. However, it wasn't until an arm heavily hung over him, as he took in the strong scent of cigarettes and wine that he began to march forward, "I think she'd like you to see her one last time."

As they walked down the aisle, Gilbert's fists clenched, "Francis." He breathed out, derision in his voice, "What do you think you're-?"

"I know you must hate me. But please, give this day to her," his voice dripped of sorrow, emptiness, loneliness, "I can only be grateful to you because I was assured of her happiness until this moment. So please, mon ami," he begged as he towed the Prussian along, "Let me share the pain of losing her."

Gilbert didn't know what to say. Francis had loved her for almost a thousand years. He made the mistake of abandoning her, replacing her with the thoughts of Jeanne, and which tore Alicia apart at the seams. That was when she began to fall in love with Gilbert, and he with her. And only when Alicia had loved someone else did the Frenchman realize she was much worth than someone who had died long ago. It had never occurred to him that he still loved her up to the day, even when they had ended their relationship quite a number of months ago.

It was rare for Francis not to have someone to replace a former flame. Then again, Alicia wasn't just any ordinary person.

"Okay." It was all Gilbert could utter as he hung an arm around his former friend, "Okay."

Antonio was just sitting in the first pew. Eyes livid, hair messier than usual and tie undone. His green eyes were dulled, and neither Gilbert nor Francis had ever seen him wear that expression before. Lovino was standing a few feet away, shaking people's hands, accepting condolences, and trying his very best not to burst into a fit of tears. The moment the Italian saw Francis and Gilbert, he nodded curtly at them, "You can join him," he meant Antonio, "We're still in the process of taking it in as well."

The albino nodded in understanding, and he and the Frenchman sat on either side of the Spaniard.

Francis lost his lover twice – once in Alicia's choice to be with him, the other in her death. Antonio lost the sister closest to his heart, the probable future of the Italian whom he loved. Lovino lost his sister, his mother – the first and probably only – woman in his life he had ever loved entirely. And he, Gilbert sighed to himself, lost the person whom he trusted his whole being to, whom he loved with all his body and soul, the angel who loved a monster like him. They would probably sum up all the sorrows of the entire room. And they sat in silence as people began to speak for her.

They were all people who had, at one point or another, cared about the Aragonese woman. Maria of the Philippines and Miguel of Mexico cried their tear-ducts dry as they attempted to speak their words. Aria, the Kingdom of Sicily, clutched tightly upon Lovino as she spoke, then broke down in the middle and was unable to continue. Shockingly, Arthur came up to say a few words, stumbling a little about how he actually cared about the girl, even though he didn't act like it, which made Antonio smile a little. Then, Francis stood up to speak.

He made it clear that he loved her. But also made it clear that she wasn't his, but once was – with all regret and grief in his tone of voice that Gilbert forgot to be angry at him: after all, they were friends. He never actually meant to fall in love and take Alicia away – but he knew that the Frenchman wasn't treating her well. Francis, however, ended his eulogy with a statement that caught Gilbert by surprise, "… After the rain, the Sun will rise again."

When the minister called Gilbert to speak, he was referred to as a "special friend", making Lovino bury his hand in his face, and some of the audience hang their heads at him.

The Prussian felt it right to make the necessary correction, "I'm her boyfriend," it earned a couple of laughs from the crowd, "In fact, if I'd only known sooner, and if I'd have been braver about consequences, I'd be her husband, and she'd be my wife." That silenced the crowd.

"Life may not be so short for all of us," began Gilbert, nodding to a few of the nations who sat in front, "But if anything, being with Alicia would be the chapter of the book of my life I'd love to keep going back to. We have an incorrect concept of infinity, and forever, and always. We always seem to believe that just because it doesn't last a long time, it isn't forever… But infinity can be a limited number of days, a numbered set of Sunrises."

However, from that point on, he couldn't find his voice, "And sunrises you can't have when your Sunshine is gone." After that, he began to spout just any load of bullshit he could muster, encouraging everyone that life can go on and all that nonsense. A lot of people nodded, but through the eyes of Antonio, Lovino and Francis, he realized that they all knew that he was forcing himself to say it. People didn't go to funerals to provide support and love for those who remain. Those who remain ultimately brag their life, knowing they have outlived another.

And Gilbert, a someone who was dying, sighed as he sat back down on the seat beside Antonio with one realization.

Funerals are for the living.


A/N: It's short, and a work-in-progress, but I really loved the idea I've got for this, so please bear with me. This chapter is short, but the next few will be longer, I promise :)