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Fandom:Hetalia
Characters: Alfred J. (Union/Union Am.) Beau J. (Confederacy/Confed. Am.)
Rating: T
Authoress Ramblings: I'm BACK! AND! This time it's NOT a song fic! It's Beau's birthday fic...it's a bit angsty though...anywho...
Edit: As of the publishing of "The Cleaning of Confederate America's Storage" this is AU. This assumed Beau died in "Brother My Brother" rather then was disolved in "Last Waltz for Dixie." The dissolution is canon to my plotverse, not the implied death.
Disclaimer: I DO own the Confederate States of America...no...not that one...*points to Beau* THAT one. I DO NOT own Hetalia.
EDIT: June 2nd 2011. Authoress Ramblings and header info
Original Posting: February 8th 2011
February 8th 1861, Washington DC
A smirk crossed the face of the newly formed Confederate States of America, Beauregard Jones.
"I ain't sorry fer this, Alfred."
Beau plucked Texas from Alfred's face, putting them on as he left the room, the White House, the Union and Alfred behind.
February 8th 1866, Dixie Plantation, Virginia
The chilly wind, a rarity in Virginia, rushed through Alfred's jacket, an old blue jacket, that was part of his uniform. He wore it just to spite his brother. He stood in front of a grave. He'd hated coming here when Beau was alive, but he had to admit, the plantation was empty without him, even with the staff that had chosen to remain. He turned his attention to the plain stone marker marking the grave.
"I'm not sorry."
February 8th 1915, Dixie Plantation, Virginia
It was warm this time, not unusual for Virginia. Certainly better than the snowstorm in the Midwest or the ice in New England. The plantation was still up kept, the Virginia state government saw to that. It was a national landmark after all. The story went that Beau was a soldier in the Confederate army who had died saving his commanding officer from a fatal gunshot. He'd apparently taken the shot to the stomach for his commanding officer, lasting a day before dying. It certainly was NOT the way Alfred remembered it. He'd shot his brother, and the Southerner had died in his arms. He faced the grave marker, it was eroding. The grass that had grown over the grave was brown and dying.
"I'm not sorry."
February 8th 1965, Dixie Plantation, Virginia
Alfred wouldn't have been able to find the grave if he didn't know where it was. Vines of Creeping Charlie covered the marker. Weeds choked out any flowers that might have been there. This section of Beau's magnificent gardens was in complete ruin. The plantation was now running as a historically accurate tourist attraction, but this area was out of public sight, therefore neglected.
"Still not sorry, lil bro."
It was amazing how hard it was to convince himself of that.
February 8th 2011, Dixie Plantation, Virginia
The weeds were gone, replaced by flowers. The marker was gone, replaced by a statue of Beau, a Rebel Cross flew from a flag pole in the statue's hand. The garden now matched the rest of the plantation's gardens. Alfred knelt at the foot of the statue. A small engraving was at the base of the statue, only one who was looking for it would see it.
Beauregard Jones. May 5th 1865.
Tears threatened to spill from Alfred's eyes.
"I am sorry."
Plants rustled behind the Northerner. A man in a grey uniform was standing behind him.
"I know."