This is just a by-product of my A.P. U.S History class. I don't own Hetalia. Contains my O.C.

*Revolution*

She stood angrily before Arthur, panting from running to his office. Her once neat blonde braid now disheveled. Her blue coat wrinkled slightly from the run. Her white trousers were creased, and her shoes scuffed. Blue eyes drilled into the top of Arthur's blonde hair.

She was furious with him. Ever since the French and Indian war, or as he called it the Seven's Year war, England had become a tyrant over the colonies. He began keeping a standing army within the colonies. It wasn't needed! They could protect themselves. He began taxing them. It was unacceptable! Only they could tax themselves!

At first Alfred had tried to justify it. They were English he said. However, it was getting out of hand. And she was on her last leg. This needed to stop. And, now.

She cleared her throat, gaining Arthur's attention. Blue clashed with green as nation and colony stared at each other. Arthur was quite surprised to see anger in Nicole's eyes. What could she be mad at?

A mob was forming in the streets of Boston. The people were fed up. The king was going too far. And, the site of the British army patrolling the streets was adding fuel to the fire.

Only the colonies could tax themselves. Parliament had no right taxing them for they had no representation in parliament. Furthermore, they could protect themselves. The standing army was not needed!

As the mob gathered, a squad of British soldiers marched over to investigate. The mob directed their anger towards the squad. Throwing taunts at the soldiers, the mob pushed towards them.

"Damn Redcoats!"

"Where's your King?"

The soldiers gritted their teeth at the taunts. They had orders not to harm the civilians. The crowd, however, had other ideas. They began to crowd the soldiers as the taunts grew in furousity. The soldiers raised their weapons in response, bayonets fashioned to their rifles. The crowd backed off, but only slightly.

"Who do you think you are Arthur?! You have no right to tax us!" Nicole yelled, slamming her hands against his desk. The thud echoed through the room.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. Standing abruptly and causing his chair to scrape against the floor, his calm composer was breaking.

"I have every right!" He yelled as he slammed his own hands against the desk. His face was mere inches from hers. Blue glared into green.

"No you don't! Ever since your last war with France, you have been a complete tyrant!" Nicole pushed of the desk, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared.

Arthur leaned back as well. His hand found the drawer to the left and pulled it open. Gripping the pistol, he pulled it out and set it heavily on the desk. Blue pools narrowed at the site. He wouldn't dare. Would he?

"Are you serious, Bruder?!" She asked motioning to the gun, her German accent showing on the last word.

Arthur lifted the gun up and aimed it at Nicole. She stared down the barrel, fear slowly clawing its way into her heart. …apparently, he would.

"Yes, I'm serious. No get out. I have work to do." Arthur sternly said, his grip on the gun tightening. He was on his last leg with Nicole and Alfred. He had to save them from Francis, and it was time for them to pay up.

"But, brother this isn't fair!" Nicole whined while glaring into the dark barrel.

Bang! She watched in horror as Arthur pulled the trigger, smoke curled away from the barrel and disappeared into the air. She winced as she felt it tare into her arm. Blue orbs grew in shock. He…he shot her…

Green eyes widened also. It wasn't supposed to hit her. It was just supposed to scare her.

Nicole abruptly turned and ran out the door. He…had hit her. She needed to tell Alfred. She ran through the halls gripping her arm. Blood slowly slipped through her fingers and stained her coat.

The halls that she had thought were filled with the spoils of England, what England had accomplished, were now stolen objects to her. She saw the true owners. She saw the smiling faces of the nations and colonies these objects had been taken from.

Her anger grew.

"A-Alfred!" She cried busting through his door, as tears flooded her eyes. Said man turned from facing his closet. His eyes widened as he saw the wound on her arm. She ran into his arms and began to cry as he encircled her waist.

"Who did this to you?!" He asked while trying to comfort her. She hiccupped as tears began to run down her face. She never knew a bullet wound could hurt so badly. But it probably didn't help that her older brother had shot her.

"Arthur. It was Arthur." She whispered. Alfred's grip tightened as his anger spiked. His brother was starting to cross the line.

The red coats fired into the crowd killing five. The crowd dispersed in a frenzy. Colonists were dragging their friends away from the squad. The news was spread. And, the Boston Massacre was spread throughout the colonies.

Tensions were rising.

The others gazed at Nicole in disgust. Her crude clothing she made by her own hand sticking out sorely within a room of fine silk. Holding her head high, she walked past the other colonies and took her place next to Alfred, who donned her hand made clothing too.

It had been three years since Arthur had shot at Nicole. Three years since she had begun making both hers and Alfred's clothes. Three years since her protests have grown.

No longer did she eat England's food, not that it was edible to begin with. She didn't acknowledge his orders. His declaration that he had every right to govern her because every one of his colonies was represented equally by him only proved to anger her.

"Here's Green Tea from the East India Company," England stated while a maid placed several tea pots on the long dinner table. Nicole glanced around, searching almost frantically for her favorite tea from France. But, she could not find it.

"Brother, where is the tea from France?" She inquired. Arthur waved his hand in dismissal, and finished gulping down his tea.

"It's too expensive. You will drink this tea." Her eyes narrowed. He was controlling her again. Even after all the hints and petitions, he was still trying to reel her in.

She stood abruptly, and left, stalking out the door. Arthur rolled his eyes as she left. What could be upsetting her now?

The next morning, Arthur woke to find all the tea he had stored as the American colonies portion was dumped into the pond in the yard, ruined. Nicole was sitting calmly on the grass near the pond drinking coffee.

Blue clashed with green. A smirk formed on her lips. Arthur frowned. He stalked over to the smirking girl.

"What is this?!" he almost yelled, pointing to the ruined tea. Her smirk grew as she sipped her coffee.

"That, my big brother, is what the colonies think of your new tea tax. I'm just a representation of the people, remember?" Her voice was sweet, too sweet. Arthur scowled. His hand roughly grabbed her arm, forcefully pulling her to her feet. She winced and tried to free herself from the tight grip.

"What are you doing?!" Nicole asked struggling in his grip. Arthur continued to drag her towards the house. Through the halls, his grip grew stronger as he dragged her more forcefully when the others were watching. Her position was degrading.

Her opened her door and pushed her through. She fell to the ground on her bottom, her legs sprawled out, and her eyes wide. Arthur gazed down at her; his expression was hard.

"You are to stay here. You cannot leave this room. You will only eat the food I give you. You no longer have any say in what I decide for the American colonies. Do you understand?!" Arthur sternly asked before slamming the door closed, not waiting for an answer.

Nicole frowned. She picked herself up and dusted her clothes off. Fists rattled the door handle as she tried to escape the confines of her room, to no avail. The door shook harder as she tried even more. This was not good.

Colonists cheered as the barrels of tea floated in the waters of the Boston Harbor. It was a great victory for the colonists. That should have taught the British. Or, so they thought.

However, it angered them. They closed down the Boston harbor. Enacting the Coercive acts, Parliament also closed down Massachusetts' legislation and its charter.

And in response, for the first the other colonies band together to help Massachusetts out. They set food, clothing, and money to help the colony. It shocked the British.

"Nicole…Nicole, wake up."

Nicole's eyes fluttered open. Blue eyes behind glasses looked down at her. Hands gently gripped her shoulders and pulled her up. Groggily she tried to wipe the sleepiness out of her eyes. The hands pulled on her blue coat over her night gown.

"Come on, I'm getting you out of here. We are going to the colonies, to our colonies." The voice said sweetly as arms picked her up bridle style. Nicole squinted her eyes trying to see through the grogginess.

"A-Alfred?" she asked before yawning. Said boy couldn't help but smile at her. Nicole was such a cute girl. He was not about to let their big brother ruin her. They maybe young, but they were not stupid.

"Don't worry Nicole. He won't control us anymore." Alfred said as he carried her to the ship that would take them away. It would take them to their home. Nicole snuggled closer to him. Their home, far away from here.

"We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal."

Arthur stared at the words written on the document. Alfred and Nicole had sent it to him. A Declaration of Independence. His jaw clenched. They would not leave him. Abruptly, he stood grabbing his rifle. They would not leave.

Nicole stood on the battle field with her brother Alfred. She had cut her hair short enough to pull it back in a low pony tail. Her chest was bound so she would appear flat chest-ed like a man. She wore the uniform of the great Continental army, just like Alfred.

She was cold. Her clothes were in rags. Her feet, barely covered, were freezing. She gripped her rifle as tightly as she could. The winter was cold and brutal. But, General Washington gave her hope. His new French general gave her hope. He was training them to be a fighting force to take on the British army.

She didn't want to be here, at Francis' house, but Alfred and she needed help to be free from Arthur. Her short hair waved and framed her face. The blonde strands hung just above her shoulders. Her blue dress was vastly different than her soldier uniform, and she wanted it off. She needed to be there with her brother fighting Arthur, not with France.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, she knocked on the door. Shuffling was heard behind the door. Suddenly the intricately carved wood door, flung open to reveal the blonde haired French man.

"Ohonhonhon! Why hello Nicole! What brings you here?" He asked leaning up against the door, trying to look sexy. Nicole wanted to roll her eyes, but she needed to get his help. She worried the edges of her sleeves.

"Hello Francis. I'm not here on what you are thinking. Me and Alfred need your help." Nicole said softly, barely looking him in the eyes. Francis suddenly got serious.

"Oh and what do you need help with, mademoiselle?" He pushed off the door frame.

"You still have a bone to pick with Arthur right?" She asked, her voice becoming hard as she spoke her older brother's name. Francis began to smirk. He could see where this was going.

"And you want me to help you?" Nicole nodded almost desperately, a smile forming on her lips.

"Yes!"

"How do I know, that if I join your efforts, we won't lose?"

"We won the Battle of Saratoga."

Francis smirked.

"I'm in."

"Please Antonio. We could use your help." Nicole pleaded with the Spanish man. He sat on his throne like chair, resting his chin on his hand. He had suffered heavily from the Seven Years war. And France had already entered the war. His lips stretched into a smirk. He could get his revenge.

"Count me in, chica." Nicole smiled.

She stood proudly before Arthur and next to her brother Alfred. Their matching blue uniforms soaked in blood and cut in random places. It was raining. Their blonde hair was drenched and sticking to their faces as they gazed at their once loving older brother.

He was on his knees; his body was shaking from what Nicole could tell was tears. He was also soaked to the bone. The British flag lay on the ground next to him.

Nicole could tell Alfred was convicted with this. He was from the start. But, it was done. There is no turning back. She grabbed his arm. His saddened gaze was directed to her own.

"Alfred, let's go home now." She gazed into her brother's eyes, and he couldn't help the small smile that came out at her Irish accent. He nodded. It was time he enjoyed his freedom, their freedom.

It was done. The Treaty of Paris was signed. They were free.