This one's for Pasta and Sin, who gave me the prompt while we were talking. I don't think it was supposed to be an angst prompt, but that's what you get while I'm involved.
The cold November air brushed against Matthew's skin, forcing him to wrap the scarf tighter around his face. There was a ceremony today, honoring those who had died in battle during the war, which had happily ended two months before. Matthew sank farther into his chair waiting for his name to be called.
He had to force himself to stand, to walk to the platform, to take a deep breath and begin.
"Thank you all for coming today. I'm Matthew Williams, and I'm here on behalf of my brother, Alfred F. Jones.
"Alfred was the bravest man I knew, and the kindest. He always seemed to make everything okay. We did everything together, from sharing a room to sharing our plane. We worked together in the war, as fighter pilots. We were unstoppable and we knew it.
"Like everything else, it couldn't last. It was just a few months before the war ended. Alfred and I were sent out to deal with a squadron of German fighter jets over London- and we got caught. They shot both the wings off of our plane. We had lost, but in a way we had also won. We had distracted the pilots long enough for the backup to get there, and in the process had stopped them from bombing London, which would have caused thousands more casualties that we couldn't afford. He deserves all the credit, though. He was the one flying the plane, accepting orders. He was a hero, deserving of everything. Even his last words, paying service to the country he loved.
"'This is Alfred F. Jones, signing out.'"
I have absolutely no idea if the London thing actually happened, I just needed a good city that people would recognize. Although, this is the Hetalia fandom…
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