Author's Notes: WHEW. I haven't been writing a lot. I know, I know. Sue me BU I can't help it that roleplaying on Facebook is so much fun!

Anywhoodles, I just want to post this little thing I wrote (with permission from xAnnikaMeh) because I fell in love with the video as soon as I saw it. (youtube).com/watch?v=xOkdhjtzZug It will bring tears to your eyes, so fair warning.

The video. Not the story. Well, it might. Depends on if my writing is good enough this time.

ANYWHOODLES AGAIN. The AmePru story is on hold right now because I'm writing all of it from memory, To My Brother is cancled, so I'll probably take that down, and... That's it. Go on and read this now, lovelies~!

The large blond sat beside the hospital bed, holding the hand of his lover and brother-like nation. He had a smile on his lips, though it was a sad one as he watched the only person he could ever love die before his eyes. The part he hated was that there was nothing he could do. He could only sit and watch as he and his partner spent their last few days together.

But he refused to think like that. No, Alfred had to be optimistic. Doctors were looking for cures, and they would find one in time to save his beloved Arthur. Then they could live on without a worry in the world. They would go home as soon as the Brit was well enough again and they would return to their life of happiness and love.

But right now, Arthur was sick with cancer. He would be cured, though; Alfred could feel it.

"Have you been eating, Alfred?" The older blond asked. "You look a bit slimmer. You better not be starving yourself because you spend so much time with me." He was truly worried for his love. It was a little strange not to see him eating his usual three meals, plus the extra one squeezed in some time during the day.

The blue-eyed nation nodded. "Yeah, I've been eating. Just… Not as much as usual. Don't worry, Artie. As soon as you're okay again, we'll go out to eat to that one place you like so much."

Arthur smiled. "You mean Gordon Ramsay?"

"Yup! Just for you!" Alfred loved seeing Arthur smile like that. It brought a pleasant warmth to his heart and made his own lips curl into a grin.

The Englishman nodded and gave the other's hand a gentle squeeze. 'Thank you, Alfred. I'll be looking forward to it."

But he wouldn't be able to go and he knew it. Arthur knew there was no cure and that all hope was lost for him. Yet, somehow, he still had hope in him. He had all the hope in the world all because of Alfred. Ever since they've gotten together, the Englishman couldn't imagine life without Alfred.

He just hoped Alfred would be able to survive life without him.

However, Arthur knew better than to speak with the childish American about his nearing death. He knew how much it killed the other inside just knowing there was nothing else possible. Slowly, but surely, Alfred was dying inside anyway. The Brit just knew it.

Just then, a doctor came in. "Mr. Jones? Visiting hours are over. We need you to leave now so Mr. Kirkland can get some rest."

The younger blond looked back sat the man and nodded. "Alright. I'll be out in two minutes."

When the doctor left, Alfred returned his attention to Arthur and kissed his cheek. "Don't give up, 'kay? Keep fighting. You're not called Great Britain for nothing!" he laughed softly, nuzzling him affectionately.

The Brit blushed at the action and chuckled. "Yes, yes. I know." He rested a hand on Alfred's cheek and just sat like that for a moment. He wanted to enjoy what time he had left. He knew his end was near, and he wanted to spend his last moments with the one who had changed his life forever. This was all he needed to die happy. Moments of togetherness like this.

"See you tomorrow, Arthur. I love you."

"I love you, too." He was careful not to say anything about seeing him the next day. He didn't want to disappoint the poor boy if he didn't make it through the night.

Then Alfred left, leaving the Brit alone in his room that smelled of medicine and clean. He looked to the monitor beside his bed, recording his every heartbeat with a soft beeping sound. He blinked as he watched the spikes unsettle the line each time his heart pumped. He could already see the line suddenly being flat forever, and the one long, loud beep that would never stop.

After some thought, he pressed the nurse call button, and asked her to get him a paper and pencil when she came in.

When she returned, he began to write. He kept the nurse with him. It took him a few minutes, but he soon had a letter written out and folded it up neatly.

"Give this to Alfred Jones when I die."

The next day, Alfred came to the hospital like any other day. With him, he carried a bouquet of flowers just for his love. He wanted to get Arthur something nice. Maybe it would help speed up his recovery.

But when he got to Arthur's room, it was empty.

Could it be he had the wrong room? He checked the number. Three twenty-five. That was Arthur's room number. He grabbed the first doctor he saw and asked him about the Englishman.

"Mr. Kirkland? Oh… Please go sit in the waiting room."

Fear struck the American at that 'Oh' from the doctor. That 'Oh' couldn't mean anything good. It didn't sound good at all. He fidgeted in his seat as he waited, the flowers he bought sitting in the seat next to him.

He glanced up at the clock, biting his lip nervously. Did something happen to Arthur? Did they find a cure? Oh, he hoped they found a cure!

"Mr. Jones." The voice startled him from his trance. He looked up at the nurse, which he noticed as Arthur's nurse, and stood instantly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jones… But he died last night not too long after you left."

He stood in shock, the eager smile frozen on his lips. He tried to register the words, but his mind wouldn't accept them. Arthur couldn't die. He couldn't! He was Arthur!

The nurse went on despite his frozen state. "He… Wanted me to give this to you." She held out the letter.

The blond looked down at the folded paper and took it, sitting as he slowly opened it. His eyes read each word carefully, paying attention to the handwriting that could only be the Brit's.

Dear Alfred,

If you are reading this then it means that the gift of life has been taken from me. I want you to know that I do not fear death, nor do not wish for it to happen, for there is no hope for me at this stage. No, my only wish is that it was peaceful for us both.

He nodded slightly. If it was peaceful for Arthur, then it was peaceful for Alfred. He continued reading.

I only ask one thing from you, Alfred; do not hide in grief or pain. Move on, Alfred; life is too short to waste grieving the dead, no matter who. But alas, this letter is not all just requests and wishes from the past me. But one to remind you. No matter the actual way I died, I died happier than I ever thought I would. My happiness is rather unplanned for me, but then again, so was meeting you.

Tears burned in his eyes. He didn't know how he could move on after the love of his life- The only love of his life- had died just after he left. But he would have to try for him. He would do anything for Arthur, no matter what. Especially if it made him as happy as it did when he died, as Arthur's letter told him.

One strong friendship, then later relationship, was rather unplanned as well. Alfred, you gave me hope; you gave me something I never experienced before. Something I had never gotten in return anyways, love. Alfred, if I never get the chance to tell you, I want to say thank you for showing and giving me so much love. My only hope is that I've given enough love in return.

- Arthur

Alfred didn't notice the tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't notice the box of tissues offered to him, or the sounds of the bustling hospital, or even the presence of anyone around him. All he saw was Arthur's handwriting, and all he heard was Arthur's voice reading him the letter. He could hear it clear as a bell, as if the Brit was sitting right beside him.

He read it again, then again, then one more time. He was happy that he had given Arthur so much and he didn't even know it. All he wanted was to make the Brit happy, and he did exactly that. He thought of their last moment together as he rubbed his thumb over the other's name, that smile warming his heart. He would never forget that smile.

Alfred closed his eyes and held the letter close.

"You've given me more than enough. I love you."

Read and review? Thanks!

Also give a HUGENORMOUS thanks to xAnnikaMeh for writing the letter / making the video in the first place! They deserve the credit more than me!