JEEZ. Woke up at like 4:30 am listening to this song in a cold sweat and thought to myself…. "Dude, did I just piss myself?" XD But seriously. Woke up in the middle of the night, decided to go on a tangent. Plus, I LOVE this song.

Aaaand, I'm using adorable little Sealand because- COME ON, it's freakin' Sealand! :D

And before I go and start a fanwar, I support both FrUK and USUK. More the first, though, because COME ON, America and England are like freakin' BROTHERS. Granted brothers that hate and disowned eachother, but still, That's just- geh. :P

Anyways, enjoy my little tangent.

Human names used:

Alfred: America

Arthur: England

Sealand: Peter

Ravis: Latvia! :D

Feliciano: Italy

Ludwig: Germany

Hercules: Greece

Tino: Finland

Berwald: Sweden

"Independence Day" by Martina McBride

Well she seemed all right by dawn's early light
Though she looked a little worried and weak

Peter crept quietly through the halls of the house he called home, careful to not make a sound. Lest he anger the head of the household and get a bottle to the head. Or a cigarette to his arm, or just a plain smack in the face. Little Peter rounded a corner, and found himself at the kitchen, where he saw a man, sitting there at the kitchen table, his glasses folded in his hand, and his face covered by his elbow.

Cautiously, Peter walked to where the tired man sat, and gave his jeans a little tug. The man in the chair stirred slightly, and looked down at his leg to see what had decided to attach itself to him. "Hello, Peter," the nation smiled tiredly.

"Hi, Al." Peter smiled a little, then faded quickly, "Where's… Where's 'Dad'?"

The man cringed slightly, and rubbed his eye just before he lifted the smaller child up onto his lap. "He's sleeping right now, buddy…" Alfred said hastily, his smile fading as he rubbed his face again. "He… He got back late from the bar last night."

Peter looked down and shivered slightly. He knew what it meant when his father-slash-big brother figure drank too much and came home late. It meant that Alfred-who Peter looked at like a second father-like figure, being Arthur's significant other- received the brunt of Arthur's aggression.

She tried to pretend he wasn't drinkin' again
But daddy left the proof on her cheek

Peter didn't need to ask how bad it was. he could see the bruises himself. Big, dark and purple down most of the left side of his face. Peter glanced at the glasses in Alfred's hands. "Those aren't your normal glasses…" he murmured.

"I know…" Alfred replied quietly, "H-he broke them, I have to use my spares until we can afford new ones."

Peter couldn't help but press himself closer to Alfred. Once upon a time, they actually worked fairly well as a family. Alfred smiled all the time, and Arthur rolled his eyes a lot… Arthur read Peter stories, and cooked lunch with him, and generally seemed to-at least somewhat- enjoy being around the child. But in the last two years, something had drastically changed. Peter wasn't sure what, being a boy of eight in human years. But whatever it was, it was BIG. Arthur started going to bars, drinking until there was little self-control left in him anymore. Then when he'd come home, he'd take out his frustration out on Peter and Alfred.

And I was only eight years old that summer
And I always seemed to be in the way

Alfred put his glasses over his nose, and cracked a small smile at Peter. "You know, there's a fair downtown today." He said, "You could go with Ravis if you wanted to."

Little Peter looked up at Alfred and smiled. "That sounds jolly good, Al! I'll go ring him up now."

So, I took myself down to the fair in town
On Independence Day

Three rings, and Ravis picked up. "Hello? Peter, is that you?"

"How did you guess?"

"You're the only one that calls me, remember?"

"Oh yeah." Peter realized, then continued, changing the subject completely, "So, Al said there's a Fair today… wanna go?"

"Sure!" and with that, the youngish nation hung up the phone.

Peter put the receiver back on the charger, just as he heard a sound of disturbance from the next room over. Scared to go, he dashed to the doorway of the room, and just watched. Arthur had come home early from work, only to dip right into the liquor cabinet. Now, even though he had been home a short time, he seemed to have downed another quarter-bottle of some form of alcohol that Peter couldn't identify, and the room would soon become nothing more than a obstacle filled boxing ring. "You bloody git!" Arthur shouted at Alfred, smacking him over the ear, making Alfred cringe. "It's all YOUR damn fault I drink like this! If you hadn't left me like that, then had the BALLS to ask me out, I wouldn't be so stressed all the time! You stupid, bloody git!"

"I-I'm sorry, Artie," Alfred averted his eyes, making a move to take his glasses off, to avoid them being broken by what was to come. "I-I didn't think leaving you was going to hurt you so m-much!"

"You bloody wanker!" Arthur used the bottle instead of an open palm to smack him upside the head, "You don't think ANYTHING through! You're nothing but a stupid, selfish little twat!"

Alfred held the now bleeding wound on his head, and glanced over towards Peter through cracked lenses. The boy stayed by the doorway, wanting to help the usually strong nation, but not knowing how. "Go on, little dude," Alfred plastered on a fake smile towards Peter, "Go have fun with your buddy… I'll be okay. I'm the hero, remember?"

Arthur steadied himself, trying to process his surroundings, and once he connected that he was angry he couldn't, he fired another angry fist at Alfred's cheek. Panicking, Peter dashed out of the room, out the front door, then down a couple of blocks where Ravis was waiting for him. "Hey, Peter." Ravis waved at his companion. "I was just on my way over—"

Peter shook his head, HARD. "N-no." he said plainly, "It's bad to come over… I'll come to you, okay?"

"Okay…?" Ravis raised an eyebrow, then stuffed his hands in his pocket and started walking with Peter to the fair. "Been bad lately, huh?"

Peter just looked down at the ground and nodded. "Yeah… REAL bad."

It wasn't long before the two friends had reached the fair, where there was plenty of things to do. And people to watch them.

Well word gets around in a small, small town
They said he was a dangerous man

It always amazed Peter to watch how Alfred could be so positive about Arthur, how he could always shrug off the bruises as some accident, or something. Nobody believed him, but still. It really, truly amazed Peter to see the personified nation stand so strong in public, or at least in front of him.

Alfred really was a hero to Peter. But even the hero needs saving sometimes.

Mama was proud and she stood her ground
She knew she was on the losin' end

It was hard for Peter to go anywhere without hearing others' whispers about him and his dysfunctional family. They lived in a small neighborhood, rumors traveled fast. "Ve~ The poor boy…" Peter heard an Italian accent from not far behind him, "Ludwig, are you sure there's nothing that can be done for him?"

"Ja, Feliciano, I'm sure," a commanding accent answered, "Now shut up und vatch ze show already, you've been begging me to come vith you for three days now!"

"Alfred needs to leave that relationship, Hercules." A calm, Japanese-sounding accent spoke from to his left, "Both of them are going to end up in the ground one of these days."

"Yeah…" a sleepy, apathetic-sounding voice answered, "It's a good thing they don't have a cat he's beating around, or else I'd get really mad."

"Arthur Kirkland ought to be in prison," An accent that sounded vaguely like Ludwig's, but different spoke, "Getting shit-faced and beating zoze you love…. SO un-awesome."

The words stung little Peter. Everybody TALKED about the acts of injustice that went on in his house… Oh, yes, they all talked about it.

Some folks whispered some folks talked
But everybody looked the other way

And in the end of it all, no one would come to save Alfred.

At the end of the day, Alfred had to be his own hero.

When time ran out there was no one about
On Independence Day

At the house, Alfred was finally tired of being Arthur's punching bag. And he let him know that. "Arthur, I'm done being sorry." He said plainly, courage in his voice. "I'm done with you beating me up whenever you get shit-faced, I'm done with you taking advantage of me whenever you feel like it. I'm done with having to replace my damn glasses every other month!" Alfred took a deep breath, "I'm leaving you, Arthur. And I'm taking Peter with me."

Arthur, who had just been sitting at the table, shot to his feet, as if he hadn't heard what his partner had just said. "What did you just say, you bloody wanker?!"

"I-I said… I'm leaving!" Alfred said bravely, hands shaking slightly, "And when Peter gets back, I'm taking him with me! I'm not going to let you bully us around any more!"

Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing
Let the whole world know that today is a day of reckoning

"You damn, ingrateful, little BASTARD!" Arthur slurred drunkenly, grabbing Alfred by the hair, forcing him to look at him through the cracked glasses, "YOU ARE NOTHING WITHOUT ME!"

Alfred whimpered terrifiedly and tried to struggle out of his grip. To no avail, however, Arthur slammed the American's forehead into the corner of the doorway, reopening the wound from the bottle earlier, making blood leak from the wound again.

Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong

"I dunno why I even bothered keeping you around," Arthur growled angrily, grabbing a vase from a shelf, tapping it against his palm in an intimidating manner. "You were a lousy lay anyways."

Alfred took a moment to recover, then moved out of the way, just as Arthur tried to bring the heavy vase down on his head. The American scrambled to the table, where the bottle Arthur had just been drinking from sat on the table, and took the weapon in his hands. In one swift blow, Alfred brought it down over Arthur's head, making the Englishman topple to the ground.

Roll the stone away,

I did it, Alfred thought to himself. I'm finally free… I'm finally free from his abuse…

let the guilty pay,

Alfred shook his head, realizing this really wasn't over. No. He's going to keep coming after me and Peter if I don't do something…

I'm the hero. I have to save Peter.

it's Independence Day

Back at the fair, Peter and Ravis were in a crowd, watching the clown acts. With all the laughing and silliness, both boys seemed to forget the world for a little while. The states of their respective nations they personified, the states at their homes… it all seemed like dust in the wind then.

That is, until the clown act changed slightly.

Most of the crowd laughed and shouted, enjoying the changes to the act. Peter, however, found himself shaking slightly, and staring with his eyes and mouth open. How could they LAUGH at something like this?! They all think it's FUNNY to watch people get smacked around?!

The clowns made believe to smack eachother, one busting a large bottle over the others' head, resulting in an explosion of confetti. He watched as they parodied things the boy had seen Arthur do to Alfred, things he'd FELT Arthur do to HIM. Peter glanced at Ravis. Even HE was laughing! Peter didn't want to watch anymore. He simply sat on the cold metal stadium seats, his face buried in his hands, trying to pretend he was somewhere else.

Ravis looked over at his friend to ask him how he liked the show so far, but was shocked to see him in such a state. That's when Ravis realized how insensitive it would be to ask him what he thought of the slapstick going on. Ravis sat down next to Peter, putting a hand on his bowed head. Peter's head shot up and glanced at Ravis. "Come on… let's go home." Ravis said softly.

They left the fair, and started towards their houses. Out of seemingly nowhere, a fire truck sped past them, sirens blaring. "I wonder where it's goin'," Peter said, watching it speed along.

"I dunno, but it looks close." Ravis replied, looking up at the sky, "Look at all that smoke!"

They walked a little more, talking about insignificant things. Just then, they came to Peter's house… or what used to be his house.

Well she lit up the sky that fourth of July

One of the firemen in uniform looked down at Peter. "Are you Peter Kirkland?"

Little Peter nodded his head, and glanced at the house. "What HAPPENED?"

"There's been a fire. We think that your brother's partner, Alfred Jones lit it." The fireman knelt down to his knee. "Son… your brother seems to have passed away in the fire… and it's very likely it was at Mr. Jones's hand." He gestured to a police car in the distance, Alfred handcuffed and being seated in the car.

By the time that the firemen come
They just put out the flames and took down some names

Peter's heart was rushed with mixed emotions. "Wh-where am I supposed to go…?" Peter's voice became a squeak, "Now that I don't have Big brother, and Al's goin' to jail… What'm I supposed to do?!"

And sent me to the county home

Peter ended up in a foster home, with a pair much like Alfred and Arthur. Minus the abuse, that is. No, these two were much less like Arthur. But he still missed Al… he still admired him, even with what he did.

Now, I ain't sayin' it's right or it's wrong

People in town called him a murderer. They called him rash, irresponsible, selfish… but Peter still called him one thing: HERO.

Alfred was left with no choices, so he made one. It might not have been the best way, but he did what he had to do to make sure he and Peter would be okay. That made him a hero in Peter's eyes.

But maybe it's the only way

This made TWICE he rebelled against Arthur. On the same day, too.

July 4th. America's Independence day.

Talk about your revolution

"When can we go visit him again? It's almost time!" Peter asked his foster parents, after a long time since that day.

"Not for awhile, Peter," The Finnish nation embodiment, replied, continuing to cut vegetables for supper.

"Bu' Tino," Peter begged, "It's been a year! It's Independence Day!"

"The man's American ways rubbed off on the boy," a larger, stoic nation embodiment commented. "Come on, Tiny- Tino… I'll take the time off to bring him…"

Sighed and looked up at him. "Alright, Berwald…. Just make it a short visit, we still have to get ready for the adoption hearing."

It's Independence Day

A week or so later, Berwald brought Peter to the prison where Alfred was being kept, and would be kept for another four years or so. Excitedly, Peter picked up the receiver on the wall so he could talk to his hero. "Hi, Al!"

Let freedom ring

"Hey, little dude!" Alfred grinned his old grin, spectacles glinting behind the glass.

"You know what today is, right?"

"How could I forget?" Alfred put his head back, a slight grin over his face. Just a slight one, but a grin nonetheless. "Independence day."

Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing
Let the whole world know that today is a day of reckoning

"Y'know, they still talk 'bout it sometimes." Peter said, "But I don't care what they say about you, Al. you're still my hero."

"A hero that did a bad thing, buddy." Alfred said, some seriousness in his face, "It really wasn't the right thing… Even after all of that, I still loved your brother, you know."

"I know." Peter looked down, "Me too."

Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong

"Berwald and Tino are gonna try n' adopt me," Peter continued, "They've been talking about it for awhile now."

"Good, pal." Alfred grinned at the smaller nation, "I'm glad things are going okay out there."

Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay, it's Independence Day

Berwald nudged Peter's shoulder slightly and tapped on his watch. Peter nodded to him, then looked at Alfred again. "I have to go… see you next month?"

Alfred rolled his eyes and laughed slightly, "I'll be here."

Roll the stone away

Just as Peter was about to hang up the phone, Alfred stopped him.

"Hey," he said. "Happy 4th of July."

It's Independence Day

Well! Enjoy it? You should have, it was a pain in the ass to write! XD I know some people went WAY OOC, but you know what, it works okay! XD