Lost And Not Gained

by RinzlerKitty94

After the Revolutionary War is over, England mourns the son he lost, and for a brief moment, finds comfort in his enemy's arms. FrUK, father-son/nonromantic relationship for USA and UK. Possibly OOC, really short, and sorta sad. Written my by partner in crime TsukiNaito. Bad summary is kinda bad, but we hope you like it.

Lost, And Not Gained

He sat there. Knees in the mud, the rain sliding over his yellow hair into his face, mixing with his tears. His shoulders shook with sobs. He was alone. Utterly alone. He had been abandoned, here in the dirt. The one kin left to him had violently thrust away, leaving a hole in his heart.

Arms. They wrapped around him, warm and comforting. Yet foreboding. A familiar voice sounded in his ear: "Zere, zere, Arthur."

"Get—get away from me, Frog." England muttered between sobs.

"'Ow could I do zat?" France spoke, as if to a child. "I couldn't stand to see you cry."

"You git! Y-you helped him!"

France pulled away slightly, just enough to regard him, his face hurt, his blue eyes sympathetic. "It was time. I never wanted to hurt you, Amour. It needed to be done."

"Bloody brilliant job you did, Frog!" his voice was muffled by his hands. "Don't give me that, you wanted revenge!"

"Against you?" the words came out in a soft mutter, not yet a whisper. His hands gently cupped the beaten nation's face and he leaned slowly in.

England could sense it. His lips just a breath away. He could stay. Welcome them. But, no. No. He broke from France's grip, boots sinking in the liquefying ground as he stood and paced away from the spot.

"Hi'z not a child anymore, Arthsar." He halted. France had not moved from his place on the ground, had not even turned his head when he spoke. "Our Alfred can't be kept anymore."

England, stared at him, his great green eyes surrounded with red, taking in every inch of the man before him. And without a word, he turned his head, shut his eyes to a single tear, and walked away from him.