Warning: For anyone here for a pairing fic, this is America and England still being oblivious about each other. IF you ship them, take it how you wish. If you do not, ignore any percieved subtext.
Diclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I'd be very rich indeed.
Rating: K+. Nothing that really warrants a higher rating, it's most gen and fluff.
Note: Reviews are love.
A is avoidance; how they both dance around their feelings believing that the other feels nothing, not letting themselves admit that they care for the sake of preserving what little they have now.
B is for battles; the battles they fought together- standing alongside one another as they face the enemy- and the two that they fought against each other. Neither one of the Nations will forget a single moment from any one of those wars.
C is for children; America's to be precise, despite the fact that he denies that he is at any age near enough to have children of his own at every given opportunity; except around the "children" themselves, of course.
D is for days; secretly, England counts the days in between America's unannounced visits. He knows if the number of them since America's last visit ever exceeds sixty that something has gone seriously wrong, and it's his duty as his ally to check on him on such occasions. Or at least, that's what he tells himself. Because it's not as if England's worried about the bloody wanker. Certainly not. D is also for denial, and the fact that America never seems to quite get what they mean when the States mention a certain river in Africa.
E is for eagles; England maintains that he can't understand why America chose such a bird to be his national emblem. "You should have used the turkey like your mister Franklin wanted. It fits you much better; it's fat like you." He remarks snidely at the American while the Nation in question simply grins. "Eagles are just more heroic." As England watches the bird soar overhead, he's hard to pressed to disagree.
F is for family; namely America's large family that only ever seems to keep growing, stretching "from sea to shining sea" and across several islands. That dysfunctional family of America's that makes England horribly jealous and bitter while he wishes that his own "children" hadn't rejected him- while he wishes that he could be part of family that didn't hate him.
G is for grace; something neither of them posses in any amount whatsoever. They're both entirely clumsy; America moves with gestures that are too large, tending to knock things from their perches as he sweeps a hand out in front of him to make a dramatic point or emphasis. England on the other hand, is simply too easy to startle and the amount of laughter that America got out of sneaking up on the Brit while the latter had been carrying a tray full of fine china teacups, was well worth the bruises he received for his troubles.
H is for help; since both of them are too prideful to ever ask for it directly, they've had to learn to know that "you bloody wanker, I'm fine" and "heroes don't need help," both mean the same thing: "Please help, I can't do this on my own."
I is for impatience; America has something about instant gratification. This annoys England, because the other Nation seems to be constantly in motion, never wanting to wait for anything; whether it be for a video game to be released, or someone to answer the phone. Little does England know exactly how long America has been waiting for the one thing he wants the most.
J is for jokes; the ones that England tells that America never understands, mostly because they're a blend of wit, sarcasm, irony and snark that only the English manage to pull off with any style. America laughs along anyways, because he thinks that England makes the best faces when he does a sketch from one of his comedians, and because he doesn't want to look stupid in front of the Brit. Or, at least not any stupider than England already assumes him to be.
K is for kites; America loves anything that will fly, the sky has always held a particular fascination for him. America is also very much the man who never fully grew out of being a child. As England tries futilely to fly the blasted contraption, he's surprised by the calloused hands that wrap themselves around his own as America says into his ear with all innocence; "Try like this." England is very, very, thankful that America can't see his luminous blush from his current vantage point.
L is for longing; on top of being separated by six hours of flying time and five hours of jet-lag, the space between the two of them is also compounded by their pride and their shared inability to suck it up and say, "I miss you." That doesn't mean that neither of them want to, however.
M is for mother; America used to have one. She had been Canada and Mexico's mother too, back when they all lived together in the same house. The three of them are rarely ever in the same place at the same time, and they talk about her even less, but they all remember what it was like in that time they jokingly remember as "before Europe." They remember their first languages, before French, before Spanish, and before English. They remember their first cultures, their first Gods. And sometimes, when they find each other, they quietly remember Native America, and raise a glass to her.
N is for "No, never, not on your life, there is absolutely no bloody way I'm going to eat one of those things;" England is never going to eat a burger. It's simply never going to happen. Even if he has to use every negative expression ever created for the English language to prevent it, it will be entirely worth it to prevent his eating of those foul things. "Oh, come on England, it won't kill you to just try one burger." England huffs at the younger Nation. "The answer is still no, America."
O is for optimism; something America used to have spades of, always spouting about heroes and justice. England hasn't heard America mention either of those things in a long time. Not for almost nine years.
P is for pessimism; something England has always had in a seemingly endless supply, forever shooting down America's good ranting about flight and burgers. England isn't used to being more of an optimist than America. It unnerves him to see the other so cynical, but then again he should be used to it by now. America's been like this for a long time. Though lately, he seems to be getting better if the new catchphrase he's been spouting is any indicator. '"Yes we can," indeed.' England thinks.
Q is for questing; what for, America doesn't know yet. He just knows he's looking for something, and he isn't going to stop until he finds it. This has in turn led him all over his house with the Territories in tow, and now finally to the door of his storage room. "What's in there, Dad?" asks American Samoa. "…Some memories, little buddy…" He leaves the door shut, and walks away. "What we're looking for isn't in there."
R is for reconstruction; America has always been rather good at that, putting things back together and such. Not even that really, since it implies the simple process of taking something that shattered, and reattaching the pieces together haphazardly as if with glue. What America does is far different. England watches as America takes everything that comes his way; people looking for a better life, ideas deemed impossible, philosophies and religions deemed heretical- he takes them all and builds something new and beautiful from the ground up. He takes what comes his way with open arms, and fixes the broken giving everything and everyone a chance at the "American Dream" as he calls it. This is the first time England has ever had to see America rebuild the "Dream" itself, however.
S is for sparring; Currently, it seems to be France that has the most accurate score count of America and England's verbal sparring matches, with England in the lead. Why he has such a thing no one knows, though it is possibly because several of the world's Nations bet on who will win the most victories over time spans. Japan tends to make quite a lot of money at the end of every month when he accurately predicts the final scores. China is starting to wonder if Japan is prescient. It is safe to say that neither America nor England know about this practice, though the States do, and Florida used to make a killing on the yearly bets by predicting the scores perfectly every year until she was suspected of cheating somehow, and banned.
T is for terror; America claims to be afraid of nothing. England knows this is a lie, since he makes a point of scaring the piss out of him every Halloween. He also knows that despite what America says, they can't fight a war on terror. However, that didn't stop him from following America into this battle, no matter how much he wishes he had simply told America "no" when he asked for England to join him.
U is for unknowns; England picks up the old, faded yellow map and blows the dust off of it. All Nations are packrats by nature, grabbing hold of their history and refusing to let go lest they forget what they have done. The entire Western portion of this map is devoid of landmasses, filled instead with fancy decorations depicting the edge of the world. "Here there be dragons," asserts the map. 'Not anymore,' the once Empire, former explorer thinks sadly; 'Not anymore.'
V is for voices; America doesn't lose. Not really. He withdraws, yes. He loses battles, but not wars. Heroes don't lose, that's the way it works. 'What about Vietnam?' the insidious voice in the back of his mind had said. 'Korea?' America had said under his breath, "It was for their own good. Heroes help people." The voice had been quiet for a very long time. But as England had cried out and fallen that day as the London transit system had come under attack, it had returned. 'Do you regret it now, hero?' it spat. 'This wouldn't have happened to him if you hadn't dragged him into this one.' It insisted venomously as England had bled from four wounds to his chest dangerously close to his heart in America's arms; 'It's your fault. It's all yours, and no one else's.'
W is for wonder; "No, seriously, how do you do it?" England splutters as America puts a thermometer in the blackened pot, attempting to take scientific method to England's appalling cooking skills. "How the bloody f**k should I know?!" He exclaims, "I didn't even think that water even could burn until that bloody piece of trash caught fire on me!"
X is for xebec; "It's a kind of pirate ship, right? Pirates; you used it right?" England pinches the bridge of his nose. "No, I never did. That was Turkey." America pauses. "Oh." He grins innocently; "Well, what's the difference? Pirates are pirates are pirates, right? They all get taken down by Navy SEALS off the coast of Africa." England moves to deck the idiotic Nation as the latter continues ignorantly, "Besides, Ninjas are better anyways." England's going to have to talk to Japan later about his one. America groans from the floor as he nurses a nose that is almost certainly broken. "Jeez, you stuffy old man, why're ya'll getting so worked up about some stupid not-heroic pirates?" Well, he'll deal with Japan after he's done teaching this chav a lesson.
Y is for years; America keeps track of the years since they parted, celebrating every anniversary on his birthday with fireworks burgers and family. It runs rather like clockwork, really. He invites England to the party, England declines. America tries to pretend that he doesn't care, and then England shows up while asserting that he's here by no choice of his own to give America his present. America couldn't care less if the elder Nation gave him a present o not. The fact that England shows up every year despite the fact that it obviously pains him to even be sober on the day is enough for the younger Nation.
Z is for zoology; England watches while America lifts his arm up and the eagle lands upon the large falconer's glove the other is wearing. The bird lights on the American's outstretched arm then settles itself while America smiles at the majestic creature. "His wing was broken when they found him a few years ago." America says to England. "Even after he healed, he stayed in the area. He and his mate make their nest here every year. I guess he just didn't want to leave his friends behind." America croons at the avian with the face he normally saves for young States and Territories; "Isn't that right you pretty birdie?" England laughs as the eagle cocks its head at America as if it protests being called a "birdie." It takes flight and whacks the American in the head with a wing, knocking the glasses clean off his face. "…Ow…"