AUTHORS NOTE:

This story is very obviously AU. Therefore, some events are historically inaccurate, some more blatantly obvious than others.

Warnings: Character death, terrible writing. UK/US if you squint.

Flashbacks in large groups of italics. One line of italics simply means internal thought.

Reviews are loved. Even if you hated it!

I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THE CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY

Do you regret it?

No. England did not regret it. He did not regret what he had just done. It was what needed to be done. The world would surely have collapsed if he hadn't just gotten it over with.

He was not allowed to feel pain over what had just happened.

England was trying to tune out France.

He was babbling on and on and on about something that must have been unimportant. No, he didn't quite know what exactly Francis was trying to make a point of, but it was Francis! It had to be unimportant. France only spoke about things that were…a little more than explicit. Things that young children should not ever hear.

England became hyper aware of the small child in his arms.

The small blond boy let out a yawn and curled into his caretaker's chest. "Engwand…" he sighed sleepily. The Briton stroked the child's hair lovingly. "Iggy, I wanna be a nation when I gwrow up."

"You 'want to.'" England corrected, staring at Alfred, unable to imagine him as an adult, let alone a nation.

England would not let himself cry.

This was what had to be done. There was nothing changing what happened. Crying would do nothing. Nobody would remember anyway. The battle was so insignificant. Half of the world probably didn't even know it was going on.

Which was exactly the fact that made England's tear ducts sting.

He's been shot...been killed, and nobody will remember.

"Englaaaaand~!"

Alfred had sprung out of nowhere, leaping onto his caretaker's lap. Arthur had managed to throw his embroidery to the side of the couch that Matthew wasn't sitting on, just in time so Alfred wouldn't sit on it.

Which was quite the accomplishment. He had on more than one occasion thrown it, or something else, at Matthew in an attempt to get it out of Alfred's way. Sometimes it was as if Matthew was invisible, or at least really good at seeming that way.

"England, England, England!" Alfred was basically jumping up and down on Arthur's lap. Through the uncomfortable weight, Arthur smiled. Alfred had just recently learned how to properly pronounce 'England' and seemed quite proud of himself. There was barely a sentence he spoke to him without using his name.

"Yes, Alfred, what is it?" England asked back.

"England! What's my name?!" The small boy squealed with delight.

Arthur was confused. "Your name is Alfred. Alfred F. Jones."

The young boy shook his head vigorously. "No! The name I'm gonna get when I become a nation! Like, your name is Arthur Kirkland, but you're England, too! What's my other name?"

Arthur wished with every ounce of his being that Alfred would just let the nation thing go. "Your name will just be Alfred. You're just a colony, Alfred, not a nation."

"But nations are big and important! They get to talk at those meeting things! I want to lead one of those meetings someday!"

"Colonies are just as big and important as Nations, Alfred." Though deep down in his mind, he knew that was only half true. But he didn't care. He wouldn't let his sweet, little Alfred get into the mess that came with being your own nation. He wouldn't allow it.

But after that conversation, Alfred never let up.

He did set off to become a nation. On his own.

It was like déjà vu.

England was trying to tune out something the French bastard was saying. England didn't care enough to listen to anyone, let alone France. He had just came back from battle, and he was tired.

He wasn't quite sure how they got on the subject, but suddenly they were discussing government. Russia was currently on the topic of Communism, and stating that everyone should just become 'one with him.'

That was when France said something that made England listen.

"Non. Ze Monarchy is obviously the best government system. Not like that silly democracy that is trying to make itself known. Tout à fait ridicule." He all but spit at the mention of the word. The French bastard.

"Alfred wanted a democracy." England mumbled to himself.

"Oy, England. You've been quite silent. Did you wish to say something?" Germany asked, a slight irritation to his voice. England knew it was not directed at him. These meetings irritated Germany just as much as England. It was almost as if they were the only two sane ones.

"No, not 't all." England said quickly, going back to tuning the others out.

"L'Angleterre, what ever 'appened to ze boy that used to 'ang around 'ere? Your Colony, oui?" Just as England was about to speak, Francis turned his head toward the sound of upcoming footsteps. "Oh, never mind! 'ere he iz!"

England's heart stopped. No. No that's impossible.

"H-Hello…? I-I'm sorry I-I'm late…This is the w-world conference?" The young man spoke in a voice that was slightly louder than a whisper.

"Oui! We were just discussing you! What ar—"

Hands were slammed onto the table, and a chair loudly hit the floor. The other nations turned to see England staring with an intensity at the new nation. "Who the hell are you?! You can't be Alfred! 's not bloody possible!"

The man, who was indeed the spitting image of Alfred, eyes grew wider as he was stared down by the much older nation. "A-Alfred? N-No, I'm n-not him… I'm… I'm C-Canada… M-Matthew W-Williams…"

England's face dropped and he laughed. It started out as a soft chuckle until it grew into uncontrollable gasps of half sobs, half laughs. "Of course! Matthew! I didn't know you became a nation! I apologize! You look just like your… your… b-br…"

England couldn't continue talking. He was 'laughing' too bloody hard. He couldn't stop.

"E-England…? Are y-you alright…?" All the nations stared at the Briton as he worked to compose himself. His laughs turned into a few sobs. Those sobs turned into slight whimpers. He hung his head so he wasn't looking at any of them.

Nobody spoke for a great deal of time. It was finally Canada who broke the silence. He had an idea of why he hadn't heard from his brother in a long time, but he needed to know if it was really true.

"E-England?" He waited a few moments, until he was sure that England wasn't going to look up at him. "Where is…Where is A-Alfred?"

England choked once.

"He lost his war. Alfred is dead. I killed him."

Translations;

L'Angleterre - England

Tout à fait ridicule - Utterly ridiculous.

NOTE: I do not speak French, so I apologize if I got anything wrong. I also am kind of terrible with accents. If anything sounds off with France's, just tell me. Or England's for that matter. Because in my world, England has a slightly thicker accent than most people give him.

But anyway, the accents are just how they would sound in my head. Sorry if they sound funny.