Ok...I just want to say this. I am a terrible friend. This fic was supposed to be dedicated to Arielle (hugglestheknowitall) since it's her 16th birthday today, and she's awesome. It was SUPPOSED to be a cute little fluff fic set at the end of Arthur's empire, with the majority of the British commonwealth and America showing up to comfort Iggy. This fucked up angst-fest is what it turned into instead. I just can't write fluff..;A;

please forgive me for being a terrible friend Arielle. ;A;

1997-Hong Kong

There was a pause, a jerk, and the flag began its descent. The red white and blue stood out in stark contrast to the clear sky behind it, and as it lowered, the crowd that had gathered around it let out a cry, that soon blossomed to a cheer. It was the last time this flag would fly over this building, the last time this flag would fly in this part of the world ever again.

The flag finally reached the ground, and men in uniform ran forward, removing the flag and folding it. More men came forward, lifting up another flag, this one red with golden stars, and hitched it to the pole. The crowd's cries seemed to grow as the red flag rose, taking the place of the other that had flown there for a full century.

The men with the folded flag turned, and with orderly steps, marched over to a thin man that had been watching the whole spectacle unfold, a small frown on his face. His green eyes seemed to narrow slightly as the men approached him with the flag, and, hesitating for only a second, he reached out and took it. A slight scowl settling over his features, he turned to his two companions, an Asian man with a ponytail, and a younger Asian boy with short hair and thick eyebrows. The man with the ponytail was smiling slightly, an arm around the boy's shoulders, "It's finally over, aru" he murmured slightly, his smile growing more pronounced as he took his eyes from the red flag and looked at the man before him, "You have 13 years, England" he said, coldly, the smile that had somehow turned more into a smirk never leaving his face, "13 years to remove all that you need to."

With that, the Asian man turned from the other, his arm never leaving the boy's shoulder. The boy sent one last glance back at England, his face the same expressionless mask England had grown accustomed to, before turning back, and matching his strides with his companion.

Still scowling, England turned swiftly from the cheering crowd, determined to catch the first plane he could back to his country and leave the last of his broken empire behind.

It was nice to be back in England, back among his people, people who understood and cared for him, people who weren't ungrateful for all he had done for them…He glared at the fire before him, as if it were its fault that his empire no longer was. It was really over now, though. Arthur sighed. At least he hadn't been stupid like Francis or some of those other European powers, fighting expensive wars only to lose their colonies. No, he had taken the decay with grace, allowing his children to leave, allowing them to become dependent. Almost all the splits had been relatively peaceful. Almost.

He glanced at the clock, mentally berating himself as he saw the time. 5:45. He had spent nearly the entire day moping in front of the fire, bemoaning his lost empire. When had the decay really started? The first cracks had really appeared with that bloody bastard. America. 1776. But those had been hairline cracks, annoying and a drawback, but easily overlooked nonetheless. It had marked the end of his first empire, for certain, but at the same time, heralded the beginning of his second empire.

So when had it really started? When had the world realized he was not invincible? When had he lost his status as the unquestionable military and industrial power, peerless in his absolute control, his iron rule? He stood from his chair, walking over to the large window that overlooked his estate. In the distance, the sun was setting, painting the sky a brilliant mixture of red, purple and blue. Arthur smirked, a bitter and weary expression. When had the sun set?

He turned his back from the window, shaking his head. Crossing over to his desk, he looked through his papers. There. Pulling one sheet from the pile, he examined it. It was a record of his debt to America. America. That bloody bastard, that ungrateful child who had left him, who was supposed to have failed, supposed to have come crawling back to him.

But he hadn't had he? A government ruled by the people, for the people. Such a thing was supposed to be impossible. The people had not been chosen by God, the queen had. So how could creatures care for themselves when there was obviously a higher power designed to care for them? It had made no sense to Arthur at the time, and he had leaned back, expecting to see the young nation falter, then fall completely.

It had never happened though. Arthur's fist tightened around the paper, and his face twisted into a sneer. America, Alfred, that clever boy had used him. He had manipulated Europe, manipulated the world to his liking, playing the role of an innocent, backwater nation…how had he done it? How had Arthur not noticed? The wars, the treaties, the favors…had he been so blinded by his hatred of his European brothers not to see? Not to notice that small smirk Alfred wore when he and Francis got into some argument, not to notice the way the boy seemed to play with Europe, seemed to use their constant bickering to his advantage…America had been safe, protected by Nature, blessed with the Pond that separated him from the filth and decay of the old world. Just watching from across the Atlantic as they tore each other apart, and then finally, finally swooping in at the last minute, emerging victorious and unscathed as Europe lay in ruins about him.

Alfred hadn't wanted to be an empire. He instead took on a term never used before; superpower. He didn't want to make the same mistakes Arthur had. Let the people have the illusion of controlling themselves as he pulled the strings. Why take center stage when you have a puppet? It was easier that way, easier to rule people when they believed they ruled themselves. Arthur threw the paper to the ground, glaring at it as if it were the young nation himself. That boisterous laugh, that wide grin, "The atmosphere, what is that? Is that some sort of book?" all of it…an act. That's all Alfred's smile was, a mask to hide his true face. There was only one nation that Alfred would ever show his true face to, and Arthur wasn't that nation…That nation no longer existed, actually, though its main power still remained intact, out in the unforgiving embrace of General Winter.

There was a loud knocking at his door, and Arthur jumped slightly. Cursing under his breath, he quickly gathered up his papers, throwing them on his desk, "Yes, yes, I'm coming!" he called as the pounding continued. He ran to the door and threw it open, mouth slightly dropping open as he saw who it was.

"Hey Iggy! Just dropping by to see how you were doing!" Alfred said, beaming down at the shorter nation. His hair was tousled slightly, and face carefully arranged into a wide grin.

Arthur's stomach clenched slightly. Why? He wasn't sure, "I'm fine" he responded stiffly, "Unfortunately, though, I am very busy, so if you do not mind…" he made to close the door, but Alfred stopped him, jamming his foot into the doorway.

"Aww…c'mon Iggy!" Alfred laughed, prying the door open despite Arthur's protests, "I'm just here for a little, and we never see each other anymore!"

That's because you scare me Arthur thought, struggling against Alfred I know you too well. I was once where you are now…and only know too well the kind of atrocities one can commit with so much power…

Alfred, being the stronger of the two, soon was able to push past Arthur, making a beeline for the kitchen. "I'm gonna eat something, ok!" he called back to Arthur who still stood in the doorway.

Get out. Please, get out. I can't stand you. I can't stand being used anymore, being controlled…stop it. That's all Europe is to you, isn't it? A toy. Something to play with, something amusing…but once it's broken, you throw it out, don't you?

"Hey Iggy, you ok?" Alfred's head reappeared from the kitchen as he looked back on Arthur, who stood in the hallway, not moving from where Alfred had left him.

"Stop it."

Alfred looked genuinely confused, "Stop what?"

"You know perfectly well what" Arthur growled, glaring up at the nation he had once raised, had once owned, "Stop this act. Stop that fake grinning, that fake smile…just drop the mask. You showed it to Ivan, didn't you? I want to see it too. Show it to me. I want to see the monster I raised."

Alfred cocked his head to the side and emerged from the kitchen, "Iggy…seriously, are you alright? You're starting to sound crazy, man."

"STOP IT!" Arthur screeched, his hands balled up into fists at his side, "Stop it damnit! Take off that bloody mask, loose that fake grin! I want to see! I can handle it!"

Alfred had approached Arthur as the older nation talked, and now stopped only a few steps from him, "Ok Iggy, you've seriously lost it. What mask are you talking about? What am I supposed to take off?"

"Don't call me that" Arthur hissed, glaring at the nation before him and bracing himself.

"Fine, Arthur, I-"

"Don't call me that either" Arthur interrupted him.

"Ok. England?"

"No"

"Then what?!"

"My name. My name is Britannia, Columbia."

In that instant, something changed. It was quick and subtle, a darkening of the eye, a slight upturn of the corner of his mouth, but it was gone in a second, replace by Alfred's winning grin.

Arthur flushed, feeling a slight victory. It had been only for a second, but he had seen it. He had seen the nation Alfred had become, seen the manipulative bastard that had left the world in his wake, using other's suffering for his own gain.

It was beautiful, and though he knew it wrong…

Arthur had never been more proud of his boy.

Thanks for reading...imma going to go beat my head against a wall for a while...I LOVE AMERICA, I REALLY DO, BUT I LOVE MANIPULATIVE AMERICA SO MUCH! plz understand....