Revolutionary Love
"It's all my fault…"
"…No it isn't. No one could have known this would happen to us."
"…I pushed you away, Alfred…I should've been there for you."
"…You know that's not true."
"…"
"I love you, Arthur. Petty wars do not change that." And with that, Alfred turned and walked away from the battle field, leaving the Englishman alone.
…..
The 'Future'
America raced through the battle field, hands clutching his gun tightly. His hair flew in every directions. He shoved several soldiers away from him.
"Arthur! Where are you?" He called out, hopefully loud enough to go above the battle cries and gunfire. America panted and ran once again, scouring over the many men. "…Arthur! Get your hands off him! He's a friend!" Alfred skidded to a halt, shoving one of his men off the Englishman.
Arthur's blonde hair was dirtied with blood and mud, his face covered with bruises and cuts. The man had one black eye and his nose was bleeding. "W-We have to stop this fight before it's too late, America. We have to." He rasped, his green eyes dull with pain.
The American nodded slowly, taking in how pained England looked. "Come on." He looked to the five of his men who had followed him. "We have to retreat." The men gawked at him a moment before turning and shouting 'retreat' at the top of their lungs.
Soon, the battle field cleared, leaving a few dead bodies sprawled around. Prussia sighed and sat himself down between Arthur and Alfred on a rock. "This is such a wrong war. Why are the British and Americans going against each other? It's like a fricken' repeat of the Revolutionary War!" The silverette rambled on as the other two looked at each other. The memories were still there. The pain was still there.
….
"Please come back Alfred! This war was stupid!" The Englishman called after him, getting shakily to his feet and running after him. America turned and held out his arm, his hand keeping Arthur from getting any closer.
"We are done, Britain. Go back to your people." England shook his head immediately, grabbing Alfred's hand and rubbing it against his cheek.
"No! You don't understand, you git! I can't leave you! You're still my…" He tried to put his feelings into words, hoping to convince the man.
Alfred merely shook his head, lightly pushed the Brit away from him, and walked away.
"…No…Alfred. Don't leave me!" He called out, eyes filling with tears. "Don't go."
…..
Future
Gilbert watched the two sleeping nations in the rearview mirror, smiling to himself. They tuckered themselves out, and they were acting so cute. He owed England a lot, for when he helped the Prussian raise his child. So many times had the Englishman babysat his troublesome child…
"Oi, stop staring at us." A sleepy Arthur grumbled, turning over and leaning on Alfred's shoulder, his eyes still open.
"Well, you both are just so cute when you fall asleep. Though, not as cute as me." He chuckled at his own joke. Arthur rolled his eyes and kisses the American's shoulder, murmuring something the Prussian couldn't hear, closing his eyes.
…
Past
America slammed the door shut, flopping on the couch and hugging his 'hero' pillow close to his chest, sobbing into the fabric of it. He knew it would be hard, knew it would break him at the end. Just to be free. Why couldn't it have ended better? Why did war force people apart like this? He thought back to Arthur's tear stricken, red rimmed eyes. His blonde hair messy with mud and rain, his face showing off so many emotions, but one stood out to him.
Heartbreak.
The American gripped the pillow tighter, his knuckles turning white. Arthur had cried so hard, begging him to come back to him. And he had ignored him. Alfred felt sickened with himself. England had taken care of him when no one would, rescue him from France…
Why had he done this to him? His poor England…
"I'm so sorry, England." He breathed, taking labored breaths.
…
"Sir?" Presten looked at him. "Are you ok?"
England gave him a look that nearly said 'Are you stupid? Of course I'm not ok!'
"I'm fine." He replied, trying to crack a smile. "Just…fine." He mumbled, going back to reading.
"Your eyes are all red, have you not been sleeping?" The man inquired again. Arthur all but slammed his book down on the table.
"I'm fine! Stop asking questions!" He ordered, watching Presten jump.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir. I only worry about you." He stood up, patted England's shoulder, and exited the room.
Arthur quickly locked the door and leaned against the wood, eyes wide and tears already filling up.
"T-They can't know…No. No one can know I was friends with him…" He slid down the door and sat on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, burying his face in his arms, his shoulders shaking from the heavy rib-wracking sobs. "Why…?"
…
Prussia stopped the car once they were at the secret house, in which Austria and he lived, protecting their child. Arthur nudged Alfred awake, and they all clambered out of the vehicle, and into the house.
"Ahhh! Come on, Sam! Give me my paperwork back…" Austria chased after the giggling two year old, who was clutching at least five papers.
"…Daddy!" Sam dropped the papers and ran over to the Prussian, pulling at his shirt. Gilbert grinned and picked him up, planting a kiss on his nose.
"You need to stop giving your mom a hard time, ya little pint." The silverette tapped his hair and laughed. Roderich, who had replaced the papers, walked up to him.
"He only acts this way because you keep telling him to do it." Those purple eyes gave a mock glare at the Prussian before kissing his cheek.
"Oh..um. 'Merica and England need to stay overnight, hope that's ok." Roderich nodded, taking Sam from Prussia, who was now asleep, and led the two tired men upstairs, to a spare bedroom. Arthur fished around in his bag and withdrew pajamas for both himself and Alfred. The two quickly changed, and climbed into bed.
"…I love you, Arthur. We'll fix this. Together." He whispered into the Englishman's ear once he was asleep. "I promise." America closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, arms looping around England, as if protecting him.
