A/N: Another (late) fanfic, this time for our favorite hero's birthday. For England, I refer to him also as Britain and Arthur Kirkland. America's human name is Alfred.


The sound of fireworks resounded through the rapidly dimming twilight sky. England slowly shut the curtain on the festivities. The scent of barbecues and smoke drifted into his cold house, but he wasn't in the spirit to celebrate. While July 4th was America's birthday and a source of entertainment for the other nation, the day was a dark one for Arthur Kirkland. How could he possibly enjoy the day when the only person he could call "brother" won his independence?

Despite his obvious emotional imbalance, Arthur wanted to do something different for his adoptive brother's birthday. Every year at around this time, he either ignored Alfred completely or was extra cruel to him to mask his insecurities and the fact that he was still heartbroken over what happened all those years ago. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he wanted to try to make it up to him this year.

On a whim, he picked up his phone and dialed Alfred. He picked up on the first ring. Before he could change his mind and hang up, he blurted out, "America, let's get together for your birthday!"

Taken aback, Alfred stuttered, "Uh, England? Sure, dude. It's not like I have anything else planned. Do you wanna come over to my house?"

"Sure."

"Cool, dude! I'll make some tea and cookies!"

"Biscuits. And I told you to call me Britain," Britain corrected him.

"Okay, well see you in a few!"

Arthur hung up and slumped in his seat. Sighing, he dragged himself up and got dressed to leave.


Alfred returned with two cups of tea in hand and took a seat at the opposite end of Arthur's sofa. From the moment Arthur had arrived, he was very quiet and mostly sat twiddling his thumbs. Alfred handed one to the other man who accepted it, but didn't drink from it. "England... w-why are you so serious?" America joked in an attempt to lighten the mood; surprisingly he could actual sense it. The other nation didn't respond and only clutched the mug tighter in his slightly trembling hands.

"America, I just wanted to let you know that I don't blame you for what happened all those years ago," Arthur blurted. He stared into the tea and refused to meet the other's eyes to see his reaction.

"W-What?" Alfred said, more out of surprise than anything else. He had heard what he said, he just couldn't believe that the usually sharp-tongued and cynical Arthur was speaking his mind. "England, are you drunk?"

Arthur gawked at him. "N-No! I... It's just that it's your birthday, and..." he trailed off, but Alfred knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Oh..." Alfred's mind unwillingly wandered back; the memories of that time resurfaced after all these years of constant suppression and masked pain. He could almost smell the blood and dirt that stained his uniform, feel the rain as it graced their skin, and he could hear the whispers of freedom and independence that called to him and drew him to rebel against England. He closed his eyes, willing away the images of a broken and defeated England at his feet, unable to shoot an unarmed and defenseless America.

"I just want you to know that I'm sorry the way I've treated you these past few years," Arthur interrupted his thoughts, his usually articulate speech muddled by embarrassment. "I've been a real dick, and I know it's not your fault..."

"Ahh, it's fine, dude, really," Alfred fought to keep his voice even.

Arthur kept talking as if he couldn't stop himself, "It's just that when you became independent I couldn't stand the thought of you as your own country, so vulnerable, and... I'm sorry for leaving you in the first place." Arthur stopped as suddenly as he had started and stared at his feet.

An awkward silence settled over them until Alfred cleared his throat. "So, uh, some party, huh?"

Arthur glanced at him, then despite himself, cracked a smile. He felt so light now that he got that off his chest, like he could float away right then and there. A laugh bubbled up in his chest.

"Heheh, what's so funny?" Alfred asked, scratching his head in confusion.

Arthur simply shook his head, smiling to his cold cup of tea, shying away from Alfred's eyes.