This is my first Hetalia fic. A classic with Davie you see. Please tell me if you want more! This is merely brother fluff, nothing romantic. It does get a little sad at the end. It's late, so I just skimmed over it. There might be a lot of mistakes, but I'm going to fix them tomorrow.

Disclaimer: I'm not even for Japan where Hetalia originated so nope.

"Engwand! Engwand!" England turned around to see his young charge, America, or Alfred, running up to him, bawling his eyes out. He was clutching one of the purple flowers that England gave him in his right hand. He didn't have the slightest reason why America would want the flowers, but he simply couldn't refuse his little brother. He opened up his arms as America barreled into him, knocking him off his feet.

"What is the matter, America?" England asked gently. The young colony sniffed and rubed his eyes as he looked into England's eyes.

"I bwought the flowers to Davie, but he threw them into a box with an old man sleepin' in there," he cried. "And he was starting to look normal again." England's stomach dropped. He thought Davie was an animal friend, not a boy from the colonies. Oh, how was he going to explain to little Alfred. He was just a colony, for heaven's sake!

"Alfred," he said, using the boy's human name. "How long ago did you meet this

"Davie"?" He sniffed and looked down, hiding his red eyes.

"It wasn't long," he said. "But he kept aging. Now he's normal, but he doesn't like me." That brought a wail out of the boy as he clung to Engl-no, Arthur. Arthur pulled him into a hug, and nuzzled his cheek against his head. Bloody hell, he thought. I haven't seen him cry like this in a while.

"How many times did I visit since you met?" he inquired. He visited every ten years so he could keep an eye on this colony, his other colonies, and his nation. He tried to visit Alfred more often since he was his favorite. How he missed the boy when he would leave. Maybe one day he could take him with him when he is older.

"I don't know, six?" he mumbled into his shirt. Sixty years? It ought to be Davie in the coffin then.

"Alfred," he started. "You know how you say when your animal friends die they go live the spirits like this one lady told you?" He gained a meek nod from the boy. "Well, humans do that two. They die after what seems like a few years to us. Those few years are a lifetime to them. Nations do not die unless their country dies. So we live for very long. Humans do not. That is why we try to stay away from humans that are not out leaders. Understand?" Alfred nodded, but then whipped his head up with new tears.

"But that's not fair!" he cried. "I was friends with Davie! I don't wanna be a nation anymore!" Bloody hell, this was going rubbish. Arthur quickly hugged the child tighter as he buried his head into Arthur's chest. He started to stroke his hair.

"Please do not say this, love," he begged. "I love you very much to lose you. I could not think of life without you!"

"I'm sorry, Iggy. I love you, too," the boy murmured. Arthur started to rock him as he noticed the sun setting.

"Hush, love. It is fine. Just go to sleep," he told him. He started to hum as the Alfred's tears left. He was asleep in an instants. Arthur picked him up, and carried him into his room. He laid him on the bed and tucked him in. He was about to leave for his study when a little hand grabbed his arm. He looked to see Alfred, still clutching the flower, looking at him with sleepy eyes.

"Please don't leave me, Iggy. I don't want to lose you, too," he whimpered. Arthur smiled down upon him, and slipped under the covers. Alfred snuggled closer to him.

"And you will not. I promise," he reassured. " No matter what. I will be here for you." He kissed the top of Alfred's head. With that they fell to sleep.

(After America wins revolutionary war. 1 week after to be precise.)

America sat down on the ground with a weary sigh. He should be celebrating with his men, but he just couldn't. What he said to Igg-England haunted him. How could he be so cruel? It was for his people though. It was for the best.

"Mr. Jones, sir! You have a package from an Arthur Kirkland!" a soldier told him, handing him a package. He stiffened. Why? Just why?

"Thank you soldier," he said. "Now go celebrate, for we ride back tomorrow." The man gave him a goofy grin, and saluted as he ran off. George would be ticked if he opens it, but he doesn't care. He needs to know. He ripped open the package and looked inside.

In the package was a letter and purple flowers. Davie. How could he forget those flowers, or Davie. He looked past them and grabbed the letter. He opened it and read it sadly. For the first time in a while, Alfred sobbed for his older brother, Engl-no, Arthur Kirkland. For he would never be able to rekindle the old bond between them.

Dear America, (Alfred scribbled out and replaced.)

I hope you are happy with your newfound "freedom". I sent you these "nice" flowers as a gift. I will not forget those words on the battlefield. I hope the freedom was worth it. For you have lost your brother. I really did love you as one, but I guess you did no love me as one back.

I would have accepted you back in open arms if you would have stopped this foolish war. Matthew would have, too. I guess you and that traitor France never liked both of us. I hope you have a swell time as a new nation with my people. (I bet that colony boy, Davie, hopes so, too.)

Signed by your ex-brother, (Your words, not mine.)

England.

I hoped you liked it! Please review. I'm kinda disappointed with the letter, but I wouldn't think England would have been exactly ready to write this, so it's choppy.