The Rain Always Falls Here Part 1: The Beginning of the End

It was night time and raining as usual in the United Kingdom. A gloomy atmosphere lingered every corner of the streets. America, who was always his cheery self, was in the neighborhood near England's house and decided to bother him.

He hums a familiar tune while walking leisurely to England's home through the rain. "Man this is going to be totally awesome! Wait'll England checks out my sweet new jacket! Nothing says America is the hero than a jacket that says 'America is the HERO!' on the back! Britain will be so jealous!" He laughs out loud heartily into the air, choking on raindrops in the process.

The each drop of rain feels cooling to his face. He stops for a bit and looks up to the crescent moon shining a brilliant white. "Man… It's always raining at your place isn't it England?" He looks back forward and starts his way again.

He finally gets to England's house and pounds on the door feeling proud and strong. "Hey England! Are you home? Come out here!"

The door opens with England on the other side looking rather annoyed. America sees that England is wearing his uniform from the war where he won his independence. He gives a perplexed look at his old friend who was dry while he was still getting drenched in the rain.

England folds his arms and is starting to lose his patience. "Yes? What is it? America I'm busy at the moment. What did you come here for?"

"Hey England..! Why are you wearing that old thing? It's been out of style for a long time now!" He gives Britain a grin.

"Idiot!" snapped England. "Well, you'd better get inside; you're soaking wet." He said calmly.

Knowing his joke didn't ease any tension and unknowingly tragedy was to come eventually; America stepped inside out of the rain.

England closes the door and fetches a towel for America to dry off with. "Here," he hands America the towel. "You should know by now that it always rains here. You're going to catch a head cold. At least have the common sense to bring an umbrella when you visit!"

America takes the towel and brushes it on his head. "A little rain didn't hurt anyone!" He says with a smile. You tell me that England, but I should be the one telling you. You never use an umbrella when it's raining. And you call me the idiot, Idiot! His glasses fog up from underneath the towel. He takes them off and wipes the lenses with the end of his shirt then puts them back on.

England sighs then goes to the mirror near his desk where he sees a photo of him and young America in his arms slipped in the corner. He takes it and puts it into his coat pocket before America could get a glimpse of what he was doing and then checks himself in the mirror and starts fixing his uniform.

America puts down the towel and tries to look at the corner of his eye to see what England was up to; acting as if he isn't interested. He gave up trying to be covert about it and decides to just look to see what he was doing. "Hey England. So, why are you wearing that uniform?" Truth be told, America was very interested on what England's reason was. The two of them knew what kinds of feelings will arise if this subject's conversation continues on.

England was very aware of the situation, but was intent on keeping a steady ground between the curious chap and himself. He gives America a quick glance then back at the mirror to fix his clothes again. "Nothing really, just another battle I'm headed off to. I just wanted to look nice for this particular event."

I guess there's really no major reason why he's wearing that uniform. Thought America, Just England being England, stupid. Feeling satisfied with the answer, he sits on the couch and relaxes while the fire in front of him dances in the fireplace. He smiles. "Alright! Well if you ask me that uniform doesn't fit the bill of "nice". You should have called me up to pick out your clothes! Your whole style needs my superior help!"

England stops trying to fix his uniform and makes an irritated look at America. "Bloody patriot! Did you come here just to insult my wardrobe? I swear you're such a brat!"

America quickly remembered the reason he came over. "Oh yeah! I completely forgot!" He stands up to show off his jacket. "Hey dude, check it! Look how awesome my new jacket is! I can understand why you would want to look good like me because I look freaking great all the time! Especially in this coat! Because I'm the hero! Like it says on my back!" But… who would want to look good during war? You're gonna get dirty anyway! This question stuck out in the back of his head, but he disregarded the thought. England you're getting dumber every time I visit! America laughed.

England, feeling annoyed, starts off to the kitchen to cook dinner for America. "Is that all? Really America! Don't you have anything better to do than come over here to boast about every useless object you receive?"

He adds ingredients and starts mixing in spices, then starts boiling water. He finishes ten minutes later and starts setting up the table with a plate, glass, spoon, fork, butter knife, and a napkin. He then delicately sets the food he's prepared onto the plate and pours in tea. He then looks at America. "Well, since you're here you might as well eat. It's late so you should stay the night too."

America makes a gagging face. "Why would I eat your crappy food? And it's not late! I should be out partying somewhere!"

England sighs. "Look, there's a huge storm coming soon and all flights have been cancelled so just stay here and you should eat it, it's healthier than all those hamburgers and sodas you've been indulging yourself with all the time! You're going to become obese! You should think about potential heart diseases!"

America sighs and walks towards the table, "Jeez England you worry too much! I'm not a child anymore! You out of all people should know that!"

England folds his arms, "You may not be a child anymore, but you still act like one! Learn how to take better care of yourself then I wouldn't have to worry you git!"

America tries to act like he's ignoring everything England just said. He looks down on the table and notices there's only a meal prepared for one. "Hey aren't you going to eat England? Dude what are you on a diet or something?" America shows off a teasing smile.

England makes an irritated face. He goes to his closet and takes out two handguns, several grenades, a C4 (Which he sets up for only a few seconds to go off when started), semi auto, and little ammunition. "I told you already. I have somewhere to be soon. I told you why I was wearing this didn't I? I'm headed to battle so I won't be here." He takes the two shotguns and puts each in a holder strapped around on both his right and left thighs just above the knee. He then puts the C4 and ammunition in the belt pack under his coat and carries the semi auto in a holder strapped around his chest. He tightens the straps on both his thighs so it will stay hidden under his uniform and for it not to slip down the legs of his pants while walking.

America looks confused again, "With only that much weapons and ammunition? You're never going to win that way!" He starts laughing. "It's like you're fighting the battle with only yourself! It's pathetic!"

England ignores America and puts on his boots then he starts for the front door and heads outside. He looks back at America. "America… Could you watch the house while I'm gone?"

"Yeah sure whatever! But it'll cost ya! You still owe me money! I'm gonna be going through your stuff while you're gone okay?" America gives a big smile. "And I'll make sure the party doesn't get outta control!" he said jokingly.

England smiles, "Good-bye America." He closes the door behind him and starts walking off through the cold numbing rain towards his destination.

America stares at the closed door for a few minutes then sits down at the table picking up the fork and starts poking at everything that's on the plate. After much analyzing he picks up a piece of food Britain prepared and bites into it. "Even after all these years… Your cooking still sucks."

Hours pass and England makes it to his destination. The sky black as the despair he felt. It was a cracked barren wasteland filled with stones and bones of past wars. Rain seems to be following him everywhere these days; it pierces his skin. He sees Prussia waiting for him with his army of a thousand not too far behind.

Prussia gives a smirk at England, "Well you decided to show up! It took you long enough! I thought you were bluffing when you called. So you agree to meet my demands?"

England makes a disgusted face at Prussia, "Why yes. I came here with only myself and one weapon." motioning to the auto semi on his back. "And…" he breathes in heavily and out silently. "I agree to let you have your way." He scowls at Prussia.

Prussia laughs, "I knew you wouldn't oppose to it! You are indeed pitiable!" he cackled. "And what are you wearing? The Independence War happened a long time ago if you haven't heard! Or… Is there a different reason why you're wearing it..?" Prussia's smirk becomes more devilish than normal.

"You're wearing it because of what I wrote you, isn't it? Of course it is! Why else would you be here by yourself, barely anything to fight with, and you wearing that outdated uniform? Paying some kind of homage to him? Huh? Or is it because it's the only thing you have connecting to that day, the only thing you have left connecting to him now that you won't ever see him again?" He starts laughing manically. Not assuming that Britain could have other weapons hiding in his uniform. Prussia's pride shaded his own thinking.

England stays silent with his head down. "You swear…"

Still laughing uncontrollably, Prussia tries to control himself, "Swear what?"

England immediately raises his head and looked fiercely at Prussia straight in the eye. "You swear that if I do this, you will leave him alone?" hissed the angry Englishman.

Prussia calms down a bit, chuckling here and there. "I swear it England! I'll leave him alone! There would be no point to take him over! …It's you I want…! With your strong navy to complete our army… With all your resources to make me stronger… I will take over every mighty country one by one! Prussia will be feared by all! Prussia will take over this land!" He signals his army to get ready. "But I'm afraid you won't be here to watch my reigning glory!"

England smiles and quickly takes out both the handguns with both hands and points it to his sides. "Now, then…" He is surrounded by Prussia's army. "Shall we begin..?"

In some ways, Prussia was right about the reason why England was wearing the uniform. England knew how Prussia was and how he would react if he'd wear it. So it would be the perfect plan to conceal other weapons because Prussia would have assumed another reason. Though the reason he thinks was also correct. England wanted to be close to America even though the distance between them was immense, physically and emotionally. The uniform brings him pain and comfort; sorrow and delight. It brings America to him and that was enough for England. Although America wasn't actually with him at the moment… Even if it is just an old, worn out uniform… This could be that last time he would be with him…

America, having finally finished his meal, was in the kitchen debating whether or not he should wash the dishes. He makes up his mind and washes them. "England will harass me about it when he comes back. I don't want to deal with that so I might as well wash them."

After he was done he was itching for a shower. He went into his old room which he thought became a guest room to find any clothes he can change into afterwards. Thinking since it became the guest room all the old stuff that was in there before would be gone and essentials for a guest would be in there. Although he was skeptical about finding spare clothes, but tried looking anyway.

To his surprise the room seemed untouched by time. Leonardo Da Vinci paintings drawn over with crayons were still hanging on the walls. Even pictures he and Britain drew were hung in some places and inside of drawers. "Ah England. You still keep all this junk? It's about time you did some cleaning in here." remarked America.

Everything remained where it was the day he left. Although, there was still something different about the room. "I got it!" exclaimed America. He noticed that the room hasn't gathered dust for the past years. "…I guess you do clean in here."

America went to the closet expecting to find his old clothes and toys from when he was younger. He was partially right. Inside he found old toys he used to play with and his old small clothes, but also newer looking clothes that were his current size. America sighed. "That guy wasn't lying when he said he can do magic tricks or some kind of shit like that! I mean, how else would he know that I was coming and have put out clothes in my size!"

England didn't know though. It was simply for emergencies if America suddenly decided to stay a night or two. He knew this, but couldn't admit it out loud even though there was no one around to hear.

America starts remembering the memories of him and England. England came home with a soldier set and a play house for him. He broke his arm making it. Another memory comes to mind, when America was playing in the front yard while England was watching and he ran into the street. A car was speeding towards him. England ran towards America and got him out of the way, just barely, for him to be safe, but having England left with several broken bones … That's so like England! Always treating me like a kid! Always thinking I'm helpless! Always thinking of me first… This thought aggravated America. He was in no mood to feel that way. What he was in the mood for was the feeling of warm water on his body; a shower!

He grabbed the clothes and raced into the bathroom. After he was finished getting ready, America turned in for the night.

Prussia immediately figured out that England was hiding weapons and swore that he would kill America after he took care of England. He needed to be careful though because he wasn't aware of what other tricks England had up his sleeve. England anticipated these and had a plan to stop Prussia, even if it meant for him to die as well.

I cannot risk it. Prussia is a conniving bastard! He will try to kill him whether or not I agree to his terms after I'm dead. If I go down then Prussia will go down with me! I'll do anything, if it means America will be safe. Tears start to well up in England's eyes, but he still stays strong, still keeps fighting gallantly.

The battle goes on. Prussia tries to get to England from behind, but England tires his hardest to quickly and swiftly dodge attacks and bullets and bring down Prussia's men one by one, causing Prussia to have difficulties chasing him. Already England is seriously wounded and many already vibrantly visible, deep, on England's body causing him to collapse in the midst of everything. He is surrounded once again by Prussia's troops.

"I will fucking destroy you, you deceiving bastard!" growled Prussia slowly walking towards the fallen England.

While they are closing in on England, he sits up to put one hand gun back when the photo he had in his pocket falls out in the struggle to get up due to his wounds. He picks it up with his hand and smiles; crying while he looks at it fondly once more. He then takes out the C4 from underneath his coat; already counting down… "Are you prepared for this Prussia..?"

From a distance all you can see is the heavy rain falling through the moon and lightning trying to cut the crescent in two. An explosion is heard vaguely in the wind, but the loud roars of thunder singing with the pounding rain is all that's heard through America's ears while he lies in bed in his old room. Putting his glasses on the nightstand next to his bed; he looks out the window that was on the side where he was facing and watches each water droplet fall. "It really does always rain in your place huh England..?" The moon shines down on his face. He lies down and falls asleep.

A week has passed and England still hasn't returned. America for the first time in a long time did some laundry the day before and was wearing once again the clothes he wore in the beginning of the week, strutting around in his new jacket.

He starts to get annoyed and paces around in the house restlessly. "Jeez England! When are you going to get back? It's getting really boring here! Nothing happens the UK but rain and have little boy scouts try to sell me scones!" America starts to become anxious and begins to go through England's belongings. "Even your stuffs lame!" He suddenly finds several photo albums with photos of England and himself when he was young in England's desk. One picture that caught his attention was on the desk next to a letter. It was one of him and England at a river. America was splashing in the water happily while England watched and laughed. America's anxious expression turned soft as he grows deep in thought remembering all the memories he and England had together once again. He felt a little sad afterwards, so he put the picture back where he found it. Out of sight out of mind, right? He thought. He sees the letter that the photo was next to and makes a mischievous smile. He opens it up to read it, which read:

England,

This is a demand I want from you. Agree to come battle me at Dead Man's Field with my army of a thousand. With you bringing one weapon and no military. That's correct, come with only yourself. You must fight us as valiantly as you can against us.

To make things easier to comprehend of what I want from you is…

I want, you! I want you to let me take over the United Kingdom, but let's make it interesting; it'll be more fun! For me anyway! I want to see you get annihilated by my army while you're at you best, trying to survive! As soon as I tire of fighting you, you will also agree to let me kill you on the spot. If you don't accept these demands I will not hesitate to destroy your precious America! You and I both know that I am more than capable of doing it! You have one day to respond! If I don't hear from you by then, then I'll take it as a rejection and kill America! I don't take rejection very well!

Prussia

As soon As America finished reading the letter he laughed. "What is Prussia stupid or something? He can't destroy me! Heh heh!" America looks up. "I'm the hero! I'm totally awesome!" With his head still looking up and a confident smile on his face, tears start whelming up in his eyes and overflows down his cheeks. "I'm the hero..!" He puts his head down causing his glasses to fall off his face onto the floor and break. He ignores that fact and covers his eyes with his arm and starts crying with the letter grasped tightly in his hand. "I'm the her-" He falls down to his knees clasping his hands over his face and starts sobbing. He brings his head up and screams from the top of his lungs, "England! What the hell? I am not a child anymore! You always do this! Even when I was a kid! You always do things that get you hurt for me! I am not a child anymore! I am not your little brother! I can take care of myself!" He puts his hands down to his sides; still sobbing and stares at the ceiling with his blurred vision caused by his tears. "Then… Why..? Why? Why do you keep treating me like your little brother..? Why do you keep trying to protect me dammit? Damn you!"

The words from the letter run violently through his head. You will let me kill you… or I will destroy America…Kill you… You will let me kill you…or I will destroy America…I'll kill America…

…You will let me kill you…

America gets up and looks at the mirror near the desk. His sight blurry, but sees someone in the mirror. He knows it's himself, but the vision starts becoming distorted in his eyes. Instead of himself he sees in the mirror… He sees England fatally wounded; in critical condition… lying unmoving on the ground. Maybe it was his tears, maybe it's his pain, or his eyesight that's causing the images, but it didn't matter. He finally realized what was going on and he desperately didn't want it to be true. A few hours after England stepped right out the door, he was in a war where he can never win and a week has already passed...

America's inner turmoil was raging; wreaking havoc, twisting his insides. His feelings overwhelmed him. "Why…? Why does it hurt so much? Why am I feeling like this..!" America cries harder choking on words he tried to say out loud. He knew why he felt like this.

America suddenly bolts out the front door into the cold… cold rain… He runs towards Dead Man's Field knowing it will be hours away by foot and that he didn't come prepared for the journey, but he didn't care. You're a dumbass England! You can't survive on your own against Prussia and his men! You fucking idiot..!

"I don't care what happens to me! I will get to you no matter what! I will be there with you! I will help you! Because..!" Thunder shouts around the country surrounding America with its angry song. Lightning shoots across the sky to show the world of America's pain. With his vision nearly blind and tears making worse of his situation while it trails behind him as he runs; he runs as fast as he can to reach Britain. America screams into the moonlit night, "Because I'M the HERO…!"