Happy birthday Alfred~! Yes, it is a sad day for Arthur, but let's add some UsUk, yes? I'm actually pretty happy with how this turned out :D So please review/comment, and lets' all wish America a happy birthday!

(I don't own Hetalia :T)

~Fireworks~

England never came to my party anyway, so why am I standing in front of his house with an invitation? Every year was the same. He would claim he 'already had plans' or 'had a lot of work'. Truthfully, I never believed that stupid BS. Yeah, other people would wish me a happy birthday, but not once has the stubborn old man said 'happy birthday' to me. So this year, I decided to hand-give England his invitation this year. Yeah it was already the fourth, but we could probably make it back to New York in time. The only thing I feared was that he was already too drunk to care about my party. He always got drunk, it was sort of obvious. France even told me that he once saw England by his house, drunk as a skunk.

I walked slowly up the steps to his mansion, feeling my heart thump wildly. England didn't like anyone come to his house uninvited, so I was already breaking a huge rule. I looked up to the gray and stormy sky, shivering. Britain's house loomed before me, looking cold, dark, and empty. The red roses in his garden stood out eerily against the gray. I shivered again, thinking the roses looked sort of like blood. I tried ignoring the creepy flowers, and went up the front steps. I faced a dark wooden door that looked ancient. I raised my fist to knock on the door, biting my lip. I hoped he wouldn't start yelling at me or anything. I knocked loudly three times, and waited nervously for a response. After a few minutes, my heart sank. Was he already drunk? I knocked again louder this time. Still no response came from the house.

I closed my eyes, feeling a headache coming on. I should probably just go into his house to see if he's okay. If he is passed out drunk, I'll just make sure he doesn't die in his own puke. Disgusting, but it had to be done. I shoved open the door, and too my surprise, it wasn't even locked. Well that wasn't a good sign already. I walked into the house, flinching when seeing what a mess it was. Everything was on the floor. I paused though, when seeing something written on the wall. Oh my god… was that… blood? I got closer, feeling nauseated. On the vanilla wall it said clearly, You'll give up your heart. I swallowed hard, wondering why the hell this would be written here. My other concern was that it was someone's blood. Since England lives alone, it had to be him. Oh good god, what was happening…? I was seriously starting to get a bad feeling about this.

"England?" I called into the house, breaking the silence. When no one responded I started to get a bit worried. "England, you here man?" I called again, peering into the living room and kitchen. "It's me, America!" Still no response. Where could he be? I wasn't going to leave after seeing what was on the wall. I had a bad feeling about this. So I searched the whole house, looking everywhere he could possibly be. I even was brave enough to look downstairs. Nothing can stop a hero on his birthday, right? After fifteen minutes, I decided to go into the one room that England would most probably be. That was his bedroom. England never let anyone into his room, so I would totally get slapped for this. The hero had to do what he had to do though.

I made my way up the stairs, starting to get nervous. Nothing I could have done prepared me for what I saw. England was tied down on his bed with chains, blindfolded and gagged. Blood was spotted all over the bed, and the smell of fear was strong. Trust me, I know what fear smells like. I chocked, stepping back. My eyes searched him frantically, and I shuddered. I walked slowly towards him, not wanting to scare him anymore than he was. Who could have done this to him? Bile rose up in my throat, and I gagged. He was bound in chains, and they were cutting into him. His eyes were covered with a white cloth, and his mouth was gagged. I slowly took off the blindfold, preparing myself for the worst. His eyes were wide open. That wasn't what scared the shit out of me though. His usual bright green eyes were now blood red. I backed away quickly, breathing hard.

"What the actual hell. Oh my god England, what happened to you?" I stuttered, flinching when his creepy eyes snapped to me. Then he chuckled. Seriously, he straight out laughed at me. This was not happening. It couldn't be happening. He muttered something, and I slowly went back over to his side, taking off his gag. To my relief his lips weren't bright purple. Suddenly to my relief, his eyes snapped back to green, and he screeched at me,

"Alfred, get out! Before it's too-!" He stopped suddenly, and his eyes turned red again. "America, take off the chains." He commanded all traces of fear gone. I nodded my head suspiciously. Was this thing really England? I started taking off the chains, feeling relieved when he sighed in appreciation. It must have really hurt when he was bound up like that-

England's hands wrapped around my throat.

I tore them off, reeling backwards. I fell to the floor with a thump, and my heart was beating like crazy. "What the hell man?" I screeched, getting back up in a defensive position. I now regretted freeing crazy England from his chains. Britain's words flashed back to me "Alfred, get out! Before it's too-!" Too what? I thought back to the words on the wall. You'll give up your heart. What did that mean dammit? I noticed England was now standing, a bloody knife in his hands.

"London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London bridge is falling down, my fair lady~" he sang in a demented voice, eyes still bright red. My eyes shot to the door of his room, and I debated on how to get past him and out of this hell-hole. Seriously, why couldn't I just be content with just my other friends…? That didn't stop me from worrying about England though. If I left, would he hurt himself? Why was he doing this anyway?

"England; Arthur, relax dude. Everything is okay, let's just relax and put down the knife, kay?" I said soothingly, trying to calm the deranged man down. Instead of calming, he spazzed out, falling to the ground. "England-!" his back arched, and he let out a tortured scream. His eyes flashed back to green and he quickly screeched,

"GET OUT!"

His eyes turned to blood red again, and he stopped thrashing around and screaming. He growled, getting slowly back up. I took my chance, knocking him to the ground and forcing the knife out of his hand. England howled in pain, thrashing around trying to get out from under me. In a split decision I knocked him out on the back of the head. He fell limp on the floor, and I sighed in relief. I carried him back to the bed, his limp body sprawled out against my chest. I decided it would be best if I tied him up again. My thoughts kept going back to when Arthur was screaming at me to leave. I made up my mind that this wasn't England. It was obviously 'snapped' England.

I wondered to myself if this happened every year, and I applauded him for at least tying himself up so he couldn't hurt himself. All those times I thought England was drunk, and this was actually happening. I felt a bit bad for just automatically thinking he was a drunkard, but really, he can get drunk so easily. I guess that one year at France's house, he actually was drunk. The one thing that really hurt me though is that he didn't tell me he was hurting. Did he think I wouldn't care? Or that I would be scared away by it?

This weird feeling in me has been growing larger lately actually. It's a normal thing when we sit together at meetings. No one has ever questioned it, and I think England could care less. I started caring though a couple months ago. I got hot all over, and my heart started thumping wildly. He didn't notice, but whenever he would look at me I would turn bright red. I almost talked to France about it, but after thinking about it the idea sounded a bit stupid. So being the American I am, I Googled it. When I found out the feeling was something I didn't expect, I started getting it. So… I guess I'm saying I found out I'm in l-love with England.

Could helping him out today be the key of success? Maybe he would like me better. Would I have a chance then? He blushes a lot all the time, so I can't tell if it's an 'I like you' blush or 'I'm blushing just because' blush. Oh god why am I thinking about this now…? Ugh, I should be focusing on the hurt man in front of me. Not silly feelings like uhm, yeah. I went back to work, going downstairs to get a comfy chair to sit in for upstairs. I also took the knife, so he couldn't hurt me.

I called Matt, telling him I probably wasn't going to make it to my birthday party. It did pain me, but I had more important things to worry about. My birthday party could wait. England didn't wake up for the next thirty minutes, but when he did, all hell broke loose. He started thrashing around again, screaming (I left the gag off); and trying to get the chains off. I really didn't listen to his rambling, but something made me pause.

"Why… why did you leave me…? I love you…so much…!"

What just happened? I stopped breathing, and started paying attention to what he was saying. Most of it was 'Frog bastard' and 'Ugh you were so cute…!' mainly just normal stuff he usually said. I got up slowly from my chair, and walked over to his bed.

"A-Arthur…?" I asked uncertainty. He stopped, and my heart leapt to my throat. I paused when seeing something wet streaming out from under his blindfold. They couldn't be tears. There was no way England could cry. I've only seen him cry once, and that was on the fourth… oh. Dammit, I swore to myself I wouldn't make him cry again. What did I think he did every Fourth of July? Party? I'm truly an idiot. "Please stop crying." I begged, not able to look at him anymore. More crystal tears fell to the bed sheet.

Screams erupted from his throat again. I swear I can't take it anymore. I've never really seen him in this much pain before in my life. Am I really what caused this to happen?

Before I knew it, my arms were around him, and squeezing for dear life. The screams turned into sobs, and then to hiccups. "Please stop, okay?" I said again, shutting my eyes. I took off the blindfold, hoping to not see red but the familiar green orbs. Finally, I could see green shiny eye peering at me. They were glistening with tears, and underneath were puffy. Truthfully, the sight was pretty cute, uhm, I mean did I just think that…? Ugh, never mind.

"A-Alfred…?"

My heart stopped beating suddenly, and I flushed red.

"Y-yes?" I replied sheepishly.

"You're not going to leave me again?"

"Not if you don't want me too."

"Stay."

"Okay~"

Later that night we both turned on the T.V, and watched the New York fireworks. England apologized for what had happened, but I reassured him, saying it was okay. As we watched the New York fireworks, I noticed something.

"So, are you ever going to say happy birthday to me?" I said teasingly, not really meaning anything. What surprised me (and made it the best birthday ever); he took hold of my chin, and kissed me right on the lips. Trust me, I can't really describe it. It was like an angel was kissing me.

"Happy birthday git~"