Okay, for anyone reading my other story Blacked Out Blizzard, I'll update that soon. Other then that, please enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or it's characters

Warnings: Blood

FADING ECHOS

The countries aren't just land territories; I've seen the other half of them, the people… I'm even one of them. We don't know how we came to be, it just seems that every time new territory is found or a new country is made a small immortal child appears. Or at least, we thought we were immortal…

"Get down!"

But no one is as immortal as they seem…

"They're advancing!"

Even though we all thought we would live forever, it could never happen…

"Incoming!"

I was the first to find this out…

"Canada!"

I found out when my brother died in my arms on a battlefield…

"Matthew!"

And I could do nothing about it…

"MATT!"

| HETALIA

Alfred nudged Matthew playfully, causing the Canadian almost to fall onto the floor of the moving vehicle. Matt gasped, catching himself at the last second; he glared at the other blond before pushing him back. The two smiled at each other and within seconds they were slapping and hitting each other until Matthew somehow ended up in a head lock. Alfred messed up his brother's thick blonde hair before he was pushed away. Both young men laughed at each other before calming down and sitting up straight again.

"Hey Mat," Alfred said, as he stared at the roof of the vehicle.

"Ya, Al?" asked Matthew.

"Thanks," he said simply. "You didn't have to come yet you did, it means a lot."

"Well, I can't just let you go into this without me; it is World War Three after all." Matthew responded.

Alfred huffed, "Don't remind me. You get into a few disputes with one country and then they start bombing the heck out of you. I can't believe this started three years ago."

"And I'm sorry I didn't come in sooner, but you know how hard it is to talk some sense into bosses these days." Matthew said. Alfred nodded in response, knowing how bull-headed his own boss was.

"Sir, we're here!" called the soldier that was driving the jeep.

Alfred nodded towards the man before he and Matthew jumped out of the back of the jeep. They could hear gun shots and explosions in the distance. They walked over to a large tent in the small army camp. Upon entering they found themselves face to face with other nations such as France, England, China, Russia, Germany, Japan, and Italy.

"Glad you could make it," Alfred said with relief. "I thought we were going to have to fight this battle by ourselves."

"We're allies, we stick together." England, or Arthur, said simply.

Alfred nodded, "Still, thank you." The others nodded at the younger nation. "Okay, battle plans, mine and Canada's troops are already on the front line. England and France, I need yours to go and cover the left side, Japan, Germany, and Italy take the right, Russia and China, I need you two to take high ground, if any of the enemies troops get passed I want you to shoot them down."

"And you and Canada, will you be joining your troops on the front lines?" asked a worried Arthur.

"Yes, we aren't leaving our troops." Alfred answered.

"Very well, be careful than." Arthur replied.

Alfred smirked, grabbing a gun off the rack, "I'm America, do you really doubt me?" he said as he cocked the gun.

| Hetalia

Explosions were all around Alfred, he couldn't think straight, couldn't see straight, everything was jumbled. Alfred's eyes darted from side to side on the battlefield. All around him his and Matthew's people were dying. A Canadian man who was at his right was yelling orders, only to be silenced from a built to the head. Alfred's eyes widened as the man fell. He hadn't seen a war with so much death in years.

"Matthew!" he called to his brother. The blonde male looked towards him. "Call the men back! We can't keep losing troops! We'll rejoin China and Russia at the top and take them down from there!" Matthew nodded and started calling men back. Alfred did the same, shoving his men forwards up the hill. He turned to see the enemy troops advancing, trying to catch them before they reached the top.

He saw a few of his men struggling to catch up with the others, a few of them wounded. He knew they wouldn't make it in time, but he couldn't stand losing anymore men. Without thinking, Alfred charged forwards and past the men, kneeling down on one knee he started to shoot some of the advancing men down. Bullets flew past him, now and then one would graze his arm or leg, but he didn't stop.

Several more enemy soldiers fell before Alfred's name was called. He turned towards the voice, seeing Matthew in the distance running towards him. "GET DOWN!" he yelled. Alfred looked around him, noticing the grenade about ten feet away from him. His eyes widened and he began running in the other direction. He only got a few more feet away before it exploded and he went flying.

He hit the ground hard, everything burned, and he felt like he didn't even have his left leg anymore. His slowly eased open his clenched eyes; everything was blurring in and out and spinning, his ears ringing all the while. He could some what make out a figure running towards him through the cracked lens of his glasses.

His vision cleared enough to see that the figure was Matthew, and through the buzzing in his ears he could hear his brother calling his name. "…Matt…" he whispered. Just when Matthew got a few feet away from him things went to chaos.

BAM!

A gunshot went off and Matthew was falling, hitting the cold unforgiving earth, only feet away from Alfred. "CANADA!" Alfred called as best he could. He looked towards where the bullet came from, noticing a man running towards Matthew, probably to finish him off. "MATTHEW!" he called, quickly trying to get to his feet, only to cry out when he put weight on his left leg and falling back down.

"MATT!" Alfred quickly started army crawling towards where his pistol had been thrown in the explosion. He was starting to get tired from blood loss and his vision was going in and out again, but he kept going. The second his hand gripped the pistol he turned around and fired at the man who was advancing. He dropped like a fly with one bullet to the head.

Alfred sighed with relief, only to remember his brother still lying on the ground. He dropped his pistol and started dragging himself towards the other blonde. Once he was there he sat up as best he could and pulled into his arms. The other blond held tightly onto his chest where blood was seeping through his fingers. "Matt…" the other blonde looked up at Alfred, then down to the other's leg, which was burnt, bloody and mutilated.

"Al…your leg…" he said worriedly, he tried reaching out his unused hand towards the tattered limb. Alfred quickly pushed the hand away, not being able to move the leg. Matthew looked up at him confused.

"You're worried about… me when you're the one that just got…shot?" Alfred asked as clear as possible.

"You're the one that got… half way blown to hell… not me…" Matthew said with a small smile. Alfred smiled a little too.

"C-come on, we n-need to get you o-out… of here." Alfred said as he started to stutter from blood loss.

"Alfred… you can't walk… neither can I, how do you e-expect us t-to get out of here?"

"We'll help e-each other, I-I'm not leaving you."

"Alfred… we-we both know I'm g-going to-"

"NO!" Alfred's voice suddenly picked up volume. "No! Don't you dare s-say that word! Y-you're not going to l-leave me!"

"Alfred… you can't f-fight the inedible…" Matthew tried to reason.

"No! Please, please don't leave me!" begged Alfred. "I-I promise, I'll get people to remember you more! I won't be s-such a show off! I w-won't be a horrible l-little brother! Please! Just don't leave me!"

"Alfred, everything d-dies eventually, we-we thought we were immortal, but I g-guess we really w-weren't." Matthew said as he started to fade a little.

"No, no! Matt! Please, stay with me! Help is coming! Y-You just have t-to w-wait a-a l-l-l-" Alfred stuttered and started coughing, he quickly covered his mouth with a hand until the coughing fit was done. He pulled back the glove, noticing it was splattered with blood, but he quickly pushed it off, turning back to his rabidly fading brother.

"Matt! Please! You can't leave, not today of all days! I'm sorry I'm s-such a horrible younger brother, just please… please d-don't leave me."

"Alfred, you were never a h-horrible y-younger brother. And you never w-will be. Just please, do me a favor…"

"Anything, please, I'll do anything!"

"Keep being yourself…" with that the blonde haired nation faded completely. Alfred's hand that had been clutched to the other's chest now fell to the ground where his brother once lay. In his hand he could feel metal, but he couldn't care less. It was then that it struck him, Matthew was dead, and he was never coming back.

Tears fell rapidly from his face and he curled into his injured body, sobbing. His mind was finally coming back to his surroundings, gun fire, screaming, and explosions. But all he could think about was Matthew. Alfred turned towards his discarded pistol, and without really thinking, he crawled over to it. He picked it up and put it to his head, still sobbing, ready to pull the trigger when it was kicked away.

He watched as the pistol went flying away, and tried to scramble after it, only to be grabbed by two strong arms and lifted up into a bridal style hold. He kicked and screamed and cried, trying to get out of the arms. He only caught a glance of a sad look on someone's face and purple eyes. But still he screamed, he wanted to die, to be with Matthew, to be with his brother.

But the arms held him tight, carrying him farther and farther away from his death, and farther and farther away from his brother.

| Hetalia

Alfred woke up with a gasp, breathing heavily and sweat covered. Fresh tears pricked his eyes but he refused to let them fall, he'd cried enough, and he refused to cry anymore. After that horrible night fifty years ago so much had changed. Canada's country still existed, they thought it would be the least they could do for the nation that lost his life in battle. But it still needed a personification, and after much arguing Alfred took up the responsibility.

Most didn't think he was mentally stable enough to run his own country, let alone two. Every nation had heard the story of how Russia had found him, sitting on the ground with a gun to his head. They all remember how the other eight nations that was with him had to watch as he clutched his head and sobbed his heart out. But America had changed sense then, he'd given up his hero ego, let his smarter side show. He'd stopped smiling as much, and hardly talked to anyone.

All he only cared about three things now, that was his country, his brother's country, and the thing that Matthew had left behind. Speaking of the third reason, it, or he, snuggled closer to the American. Alfred looked down at the polar bear he had insisted on taking in after Matthew's death. Kumajiro, the small polar bear snuggled closer to America, lifting his head and placing it on Alfred's legs.

Alfred pet the bear's head, a small sad smile coming to his face. "Do you want something to eat Kuma?" The bear nodded and hopped into Alfred's arms. Alfred chuckled and hugged the small bear close to his body. He got out of bed, only in grey sweat pants and a black T-shirt, and walked down stairs.

Once he was downstairs he walked into the kitchen and set Kumajiro onto the table. He got the bear's special food and set it down next to him. "Aren't you going to get anything?" asked the bear.

"No, not really hungry right now," Alfred stated. He'd grown used to hearing the bear talk, it had surprised him at first, but apparently Kumajiro always used to talk to Matthew. And with his brother gone, Kuma only trusted him. The bear would usually hide or growl when someone came close to him. The bear was also super protective of Alfred, probably because he didn't want to lose a second owner.

Alfred leaned against the door frame to the kitchen, waiting for Kuma to finish eating when the door rang. Alfred sighed, he hated company, he used to joy over the thought of someone to talk to, but now, he hated the thought of talking to anyone. He walked over to the door and opened it. England, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Prussia, Russia, and China stood on his porch.

He leaned against the frame, not greeting them.

"Hello Alfred, can we come in?" Alfred sighed and moved away from the door frame so that they could come in. They all came in and sat in his living room. Alfred sat in his recliner, so he wouldn't have to sit near the other countries. Right when France was about to speak, Kuma ran in and jumped up into Alfred's lap, growling at the other nations. Alfred just pet his head, calming him down.

The other nations had grown used to the polar bear's protectiveness. France straightened up. "Alfred, are you alright, everything going well with both countries?" Alfred simply nodded, not wanting to talk to them.

"Alfred," Arthur said, "please talk to us, we hardly hear you say anything anymore." Alfred stayed silent, still petting Kuma's head, flinching a little when his hand brushed over Matthew's dog tags that were hanging around the bears neck. He'd found out, that he'd been clutching onto his brother's dog tags when he faded, causing them not to fade. "Alfred?" the other blonde sighed. "Ignoring others won't bring him back you know?" Alfred's eyes widened and he snapped his head towards Arthur, the other nations could see the anger flowing from him in waves.

"And you think talking can?! Nothing will bring him back! So why don't you get out of my house before I kick you out?!" Alfred yelled, standing up and pointing to the door, Kuma in his other arm. The other nations flinched, but respected Alfred's wishes and left. Alfred sat down, breathing hard from the rage.

For the first time in fifty years, Alfred cried, Kumajiro curled up next to him and letting out sad noises as the country cried himself out.

Okay so I'm planning on continuing this, but I need some inspiration, so please review and tell me what you think.