So this came from me being all symbolic about colors and eyes and yeah. History felt like inserting itself and it became a bit more about the Blitz. Anyway enough babbling.

Hetalia doesnt belong to me. Enjoy the story!


Everyone had heard his shouts of 'Freedom' as his eyes sparkled. His blue eyes as bright and endless as the skies he so loved. England had seen them in all their many forms, the sparkling innocence of youth, the dark grief of war, and weary with the weight of the world. Without fail America's eyes captured England's attention and drew him in. It was during yet another meeting as America was presenting that England found himself studying the eyes behind the silver frames and polished lenses and thinking of what was hidden beneath the surface.

The default response to the inane question, "What color?" would of course be blue. But what was blue? The color of the deep sea, the sky above, or the multitude of manmade shades? Boiled down to its purest form, blue was freedom. The freedom that sang in America's very bones, shone in his eyes, and had him always always reaching for the sky. Was it any wonder that his was the country that invented flight? England would always prefer the sea and the rolling of the deck beneath his feet, while America soared through the sky.

To America there was nothing greater than the freedom of the skies. While other looked up and saw the ceiling of the world, America saw an opportunity. The darkness between the stars; a mystery just waiting for them to reach it.

Lately all the spark had been dulled. Their days were longer now, politics didn't end in time for dinner, and even glancing up at America now he looked tired. England was sure though that only a practiced eye could see past the cheerful mask. Since he had truly taken his place on the world stage hardly anyone had seen the true depth of America's emotions. Even England was often left guessing.

There had been a few times where it had been spelled out clearly like writing across the sky. There was the tug at the back of his mind of a memory not yet a century old.

The Blitz had made him prouder of his people and kept his own resolve as iron. Germany could bomb him all he liked, England would never give in. He would outlast the Axis and save his fellow Allied powers. Right. Just as soon as you can actually stand. The snarky thought made him sigh even as lay in wait for the bombs the air sirens promised. Canada stood outside to give him peace for which he was thankful. His pride would not allow others to see him struggle, even against forces outside his control.

Lying on the couch, his mind out in the city with his people, he wasn't aware of the commotion until he heard the voices in the hall. They were both familiar, but England brushed it off until there was a bang against the wall. Frowning slightly, was Canada alright? He was distracted as the aerial fight began. The RAF had engaged the German bombers and the fight for London continued.

With the pilots in the inky night sky England was only vaguely aware of the sound of the door opening and closing with a soft click. Then the first few bombers released their payload. Fire, hot and consuming, sprung up and he flinched. A breath and another wave descended on his beautiful capitol. Lives extinguished and everything he fought so hard for was burning down around him.

Returning to himself as the fight resumed in his skies, England became aware of a presence kneeling next to him muttering. Pushing himself up to get a better view, he couldn't believe his eyes. "A-America?" A shocked blond, bespectacled face shot up and he squinted in disbelief. Blinking he sighed. Of course he's not here. "My mistake again. My apologies Canada. You know you can wait outside."

A rough hand gripped his, seeking comfort or offering it, it was comfort all the same. "I know. I was just worried about you." His voice even sounded in his ears like America's would if the lad would ever stop shouting. Was he really that far gone? England gave the hand a squeeze as he met its owner's eyes. Worry and fear swirled darkening a summer sky to a storm tossed sea. Canada's eyes are violet. He is not here.

"You know me, my boy. That kraut can hit me with his best, but he won't be rid of me that easily." The grip on his hand went almost painfully tight for a moment as the boy ducked his head. Before he could ask another wave exploded outside and his own hand clenched. England worked to keep his face smooth for his former colony's state of mind if nothing else. Pride comes before the fall as they say.

"Really Matthew you may wait outside. Actually I could use a spot of tea, if you could…" His former colony smiled softly at him and stood saying, "Of course England." Footsteps crossed across the carpet back to the door as England slid his eyes closed. There was the scrape of the door over the carpet and a pause. Green cracked open to see a tall form exiting the room. Blinking in surprise, on his back, had that been bright white numbers on leather? England fell into darkness, losing himself among his people in his skies and his burning streets.

The next morning brought clarity and increased fire to England's will. The site of his city in the harsh light of day made his hands shake in barely controlled rage. Germany would pay. "England a new supply ship has just docked. They need you down there." The fading empire turned to find Canada standing behind him, a small smile on his face.

England sighed. "Can they truly not handle it without me?" The blond laughed slightly. "Well I suppose they brought a bit more than general supplies with them. The ship came from America and apparently had a stow-away…" Canada hid a grin as England blinked once. "Oh, well then. I best deal with it. Bloody incompetent the lot, Americans." "Of course England."

The wash of the waves against the land was a balm to his frayed nerves. Nothing could ever be truly frustrating as long as he was on or near the water. As if to prove him wrong, a ringing guffaw broke out. Chatting with his men as they worked was the United States of America in all his glory. Catching sight of England, he waved with a bright grin. Trotting over America clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey British dude! How ya been?"

Blue skies sparkled behind his lenses uneclipsed by storms of worry or fear. Good to know I was being completely delusional last night. To have him see me in such a state…

It had been years before America admitted to having actually been in London that night. A moment of insecurity, a fight, and then back again. "Of course I love you England. You're amazing and smart and strong. I mean during the Blitz, you never let it stop you and still worried about others before yourself…"

America had snapped his mouth shut as England raised an eyebrow. "Others before myself… Do you mean Matthew or-" England gaped. "It was really you that night! I thought, but then the next morning… Why?" Pulling him close, so they could each hear the thump-thump of the lifeblood of the other, America smiled. "Isn't it obvious? I was worried about you."

The years flew past, a blur of history, to bring England back to the same place, debating and quarreling with the same old group. And yet… A sweep of his gaze across the room and he took in his fellow Nations. And yet here we all sit trying to improve our world. For all our problems we would work together if one of us needed help. Continuing their circle of the table, green once again focused on shining blue.

Tired and overworked, yes, but eclipsed, hopeless, and lost, never. Blue was freedom for the small, the weak, the lost. It was freedom from the everyday, the mundane, a small escape from the stress of life. The American Dream still existed to lift others up, to instill hope, and encourage to work for a better tomorrow.

A small smile worked its way onto England's face and he met America's eyes as the superpower took his seat. "What're you smiling about? My heroic speech cheer you up?" England scoffed as they intertwined their fingers beneath the table. "Hardly. I was just thinking… about the color of freedom."


This is England's half. Next chapter is America's side. Look for that and drop me a review of your thoughts!