Something that was made when Icy got bored to death. Involves a bit of Hetalia. I do not own Hetalia or the history behind this ficlet. -o-
"[b]Retreat![/b]" The sharp call from the Union commander sounded in his ears, and he could have sworn that it was actually [i]him[/i] that was losing. Although, the pressure that was rising in his throat was suddenly released as he noted one of the Union soilders fleeing behind the commander. [i]Alfred...[/i] he thought instantly, noticing the hair curl on the side of his head, bright blue eyes unlike his own dimmed with dread. His brother, the one that had Mr. Lincoln as his president, was actually fleeing from his own men. The Confederacy would never give in, for all that they wanted was one thing: freedom.
"[b]Get back here, dammit! Fight like a man, not a child![/b]" He hissed the insults at his so-called 'brother', whom just scrambled out of his sight. Lance, being the one who represented the Confederate States of America, wasn't really like his pathetic excuse for a sibling at all. He was actually a man, (not technically; he was only fifteen) and not a weak coward, running away when the fight just started. Giving a slight huff under his breath, his olive green gaze spread across the battlefield. What he saw was terrifying.
How had he not realized this before? Was he too caught up in the fighting to not notice that several thousand of his people- soilders, yes, but still his people- were on the ground. Dead. [i]That explains my heart getting weaker by the second...[/i] He gave a low sigh, taking up whatever courage he had to survey the damage and walking over toward the first of the bodies. It was... one of his own commanders. "[b]N-n... No...[/b]" He managed to whisper, a shiver running down his spine. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could feel tears swell, threatening to fall.
He couldn't believe this at all! Why the hell would Union kill one of his commanders? For NO reason either, dammit! "[b]We just wanted fucking freedom, and this is the reaction![/b]" His voice cracked as the shout came out, not knowing that the rest of his own people were gone. Well, gone, as in, they fled back into the Confederate territory and all. "[b]Alfred's going down, dammit! And I'm going to be the one that does it![/b]" He didn't expect a reaction at all, hell, these people were [i]dead[/i], to his dismay, and couldn't speak at all.
Wiping away his tears with the back of his hand, he rose back to his feet, a gleam of determination in his blazing olive eyes. Union was going to pay, and if he didn't kill him, then Lance would be better off dead himself. He didn't agree with the latter (of course!), though he knew that one of those two things were going to occur. He was positive, and even with the dread in his heart, not to mention his weakening state, he knew there would be another fight. Not quite like this one, but close enough.
He would definitely win this time. He was sure. If he wasn't, then he wasn't Lance S. Jones, which he totally was...!