A/N: Alright, well... my Canada introduced me to this song. And...Almost immediately this story formed in my mind as a sequel to Servant of Evil. It's taken me forever to finally write it, but here it is. And I do hope that you all enjoy it, because I really enjoyed writing it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the song "Running Up That Hill". They are too amazing to be mine.
Running Up That Hill
It doesn't hurt me
You wanna feel how it feels?
You wanna know that it doesn't hurt me?
You wanna hear about the deal I'm makin'?
The sight of Matthew's limp body on the ground was more than Alfred could handle. The moment his twin landed, he fell to his knees, choked with sobs. It was so weak of him to be crying like this, but he couldn't stop himself, no matter how desperately he tried. Matthew had chosen this. Matthew gave his life to save Alfred's. And Alfred had no right to be ungrateful in any way.
Then why did he feel like this was all his fault? His brother shouldn't be dead. He should be the one lying there. They were his crimes. Matthew had nothing to do with it.
Shaking uncontrollably, Alfred wrapped his arms around himself and bent his forehead to the ground. He had heard it. Just before Matthew's life had been torn from him. The start of those words.
'I love you.'
Alfred jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Arthur standing over him. The man looked livid, horrified, and deeply distressed at the same time, and Alfred knew in an instant that the Brit had figured out who had really just died.
"This is your fault," Arthur said in a voice that was shaking as badly as Alfred's body was. "I should kill you right now."
Shaking his head, Alfred turned his eyes back to the pavement beneath him. He didn't care if Arthur killed him. He deserved it. Deserved it for letting his brother die in his stead.
"But that won't bring him back." The words were so quiet that Alfred almost thought he hadn't heard them. He sobbed again and knew why Arthur wouldn't kill him. The man couldn't stand to lose two children in one day. Another burden of guilt for Alfred to bear. God, why? Why did Matthew have to die?
Or did he?
Knowing full well that the plan forming in his mind was ludicrous, Alfred suddenly started pushing himself to his feet, forcing the tears back. He could shed them later. Right now, he had to see. Had to see if he could get what he wanted.
"Arthur… You still practice black magic, don't you?"
You don't wanna hurt me
But see how deep the bullet lies
Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder
There's a thunder in our hearts
At first, Arthur was against the idea. Because, essentially, it would be forcing him to choose to send one son back in time to take the place of another son dying. And that was not a choice that any human being should ever be forced to make. It also didn't help that he wasn't entirely sure his magic would work.
Part of him hoped it would. Because Alfred was the one who should have been punished to begin with. And another part of him hoped it wouldn't. Because then he would be making that choice that he shouldn't have been asked to make to begin with.
But when Alfred had turned those eyes on him - eyes filled with regret for what had happened, terror at the prospect of having to live with this guilt over his head, and silent pleading - Arthur had been unable to refuse.
And so he had called on all of his skill as a magician.
'Be with them,' he thought as he cast the spell, trepidation in each of his movements. 'Make the choice for me…'
He wasn't sure who he was asking, but whoever it was, he put the choice in their hands.
So much hate for the ones we love
Tell me we both matter, don't we?
It was strange at first, reliving something that he had been through only days before. But Alfred took it in stride. He forced himself to stay calm. And he pretended like he had no idea what was going on. And really … he was just so grateful that it had worked. He had always doubted Arthur's magic before. Never again.
Not that he had much time left anyway.
This time, when they came for him, he was alone. He had sent Matthew out to the store for something. They cuffed him and dragged him away, just like they had to Matthew that night.
And this time, when they pulled him forcefully from the house, it was Matthew watching him with wide, scared eyes instead of the other way around.
Alfred felt terrible for forcing his brother to endure the suffering that he could not have born himself. But then…
At least he would be alive.
You
You and me
You and me won't be unhappy
"E-executed?!"
Matthew's panicked voice rang across the hallway where he had just been given the news of his brother's decided punishment. It went unnoticed by all but one man - Arthur, who was regarding Matthew with a look of apprehension. But his words were cold when he spoke.
"It's what he deserves, my boy," he said, refusing to look at the Canadian. "You know better than any of us what he's done."
"But… but I did those things! You… you should punish me, not him!" Matthew sounded desperate, and his pleas fell on deaf ears. Arthur merely shook his head.
As he walked away, he said quietly, "It's set for tomorrow, at three o'clock. You don't have to come if you don't want."
When he was alone - well, and truly alone now that he knew his brother would never be by his side again - Matthew fell to the ground and wept because he had been unable to protect Alfred like he had promised.
Come on,
Let me steal this moment from you now
Come on,
Let's exchange the experience
It was a surreal experience, standing in the crowd and waiting for Alfred to be led in front of the firing squad. Tears were clouding his vision, but they seemed to clear when he saw his twin walking by the immense crowd of people. They all jeered at him, shouted at him, called him names that he deserved, but…
Matthew thought he was the one who deserved this. He could have put a stop to everything that had happened, but… His brother had thought it was for the best. And Matthew had trusted him. Still trusted him. More than anyone in the world.
It hurt to see Alfred degraded to this. And yet…
And yet Alfred seemed like he was ready for this. Like this was what he wanted. And as he walked by and stood in front of the wall, Alfred caught Matthew's eye.
And he smiled.
Like he was happy to be here.
The tears began to flow in earnest at that moment. Alfred winked at his brother and turned his head to hide his own tears as his crimes were read out to the audience, who were waiting for that final moment…
And if I only could
Make a deal with God
And get him to swap our places
Be running up that hill
With no problems
In those last moments before the bullets whizzed through the air again - this time towards him instead of the most important person in his life - Alfred took the opportunity to have his last words, unlike what Matthew had done. Swallowing, he tried to form the words that he had been thinking so hard about the past few days, knowing what was coming, and knowing that he would have to make it so that Matthew did not feel how he had.
"I'm sorry." Scoffing laughter followed his words, but he kept on doggedly - just like he had with everything in his life. "I'm sorry for what I've done to you all. For the pain, the grief, the terrible deeds. I truly am sorry."
He couldn't fight back tears as he picked out his brother in the crowd again and tried to smile reassuringly at him. "I'm sorry, Mattie," he said, so quietly that the only way Matthew got the message was by reading his lips. "This is my fault. Not yours. Thank you for everything."
His final words said, he steeled his nerve against what was about to come. It was so sickeningly like what had happened to Matthew that Alfred found himself sobbing within seconds.
"Ready."
Jaw clenching, Matthew stared hard at his brother - the man who meant the world to him, the man he had sworn to protect and failed. But Alfred said it was his fault. Did that mean…?
"Aim."
Alfred was starting to shake. He wondered what it was like on the other side. Wondered if he would be able to see Matthew again someday. But no… They would go to completely different places. Matthew deserved happiness after death, whereas he… He deserved nothing.
"Fire!"
It was a grotesque mimicry of Matthew's death in Alfred's mind. Between the moment when the word was said and the bullets flew, he remembered the one thing he hadn't said and suddenly searched out his brother's eyes in the crowd, screaming the words before the guns could fire.
"I LOVE YOU!"
For the briefest of moments, he saw Matthew's face light up, even as tears flowed unhindered down his cheeks, and saw his brother mouthing the words in return, unable to speak. And even though he knew that he was leaving his twin behind, he also knew that Matthew would be alright. That he would try to fix what Alfred had done wrong, and that he would succeed like Alfred had been unable to.
And even though this moment was sad, Alfred could die happy knowing that his brother forgave him and still loved him.
Then his body was suddenly wracked with sharp pain… and then darkness.
If I only could
Be running up that hill