This is my first fanfiction so please be nice. I wrote this after listening to the song "I Stand Alone"

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!


He seemed like a ghost at times. Drifting through the forest in such a way that some would believe he was a dryad. No one could catch him if he didn't want them too. People couldn't even see him most times. They could just catch a glimpse here and there.

France had recently heard of the little nation right across the water around his home. He had tried to go and see him, but like others had only ever been able to catch a glimpse. Every time he tried to get close to the young nation he would disappear. If he tried to chase after him it would seem as if the very forest he lived in would turn against him. As if roots popped out of the ground just to trip his feet and branches swung down specifically to hit his face, and by the time he could get where the boy had been he was already gone. Lost in the forest he called home.

This time though, France was going to catch him and was going to talk to him. He walked into the green meadow he usually saw the boy sitting in and was pleased to see him sitting there playing with some bunnies that always seemed to follow him around. He was pleased to see that unlike most times the boy didn't seem to notice him. He started to creep up quietly behind him. He was within arm's reach when the boy noticed the shadow looming over him and looked up at him. France watched the fear in the boy's eyes before he got up and tried to run. He tried too late though because by the time he had noticed France and stood to run France was already able to grab him.

France held on to the struggling child as he kicked and scratched and yelled at him in a language he didn't recognize. He grabbed onto the child's other hand as he started hitting him as well. He held the child still as the child continued to scream in the other language and kicked out, but he noticed the tears streaming down the child's face.

He cooed at the child trying to calm him down and pulled him closer. He wrapped the child in a hug where the child started to kick and struggle harder, but France didn't do anything but hold the child, pet his hair, and coo at him. The child slowly started to calm down.

After the child finally stopped struggling and screaming France looked down to see he had fallen asleep. The poor child had worn himself out in his fear and struggling. France stood up holding the child and looked around. He didn't know where the child lived and didn't see anything that looked like any kind of house around. He certainly didn't want to just leave the child sleeping out in the open; something could eat him or hurt him! He decided he would have to take the child back to his house and hope the child wouldn't panic when he woke.

When France finally got back to his house with the sleeping child it was completely dark. You couldn't really see his house, but it wasn't much to look at really. It was just a basic one room cabin that he had made himself. The inside was rather simple, but it was warm and cozy. It was also far away from most other people because most people would notice a teen living on his own who never aged. He took the little sleeping child into his room and set him on his bed. France turned around and changed into sleepwear and got into bed next to the child. He made sure to stay on the other side of the bed away from the child though. Because if waking up in a strange room would scare the child, then waking up in a strange room next to a strange man would send the child into hysterics.

The next morning France was stirred from his sleep by whimpering. He sat up and looked next to him to see the child was absent from the room. He looked over to the corner of the room where the whimpering was coming from and saw the child with his green hood pulled up over his head, curled in a ball with tears raining down his face in great torrents.

France jumped out of his bed and raced over to the child. He stopped when he saw the child flinch at his fast movement. He slowly bent down and reached out to the child, but stopped when he flinched again.

"Oh, mon petite lapin, qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" France asked him.

If anything the child started crying even harder at his "strange" words. France was ready to start panicking; he couldn't figure out what was wrong with the child, he couldn't understand the child, and he couldn't make the child stop crying. France once again reached out to the child. The child flinched, but this time France kept reaching for him. He gently put his hand on the child's head and the child stiffened under him. The child squeezed his eyes shut and started shaking, and although he was no longer audibly crying France could see silent tears still pouring down his face. Gently, so as not to frighten the child further, France started to pet the child's hair.

After a while of petting his hair, the child stopped shaking and crying. He opened his eyes and looked up at France. He still had fear in his tearful gaze, but France smiled down at him.

"Bonjour lapin. Je m'appelle France. Comment vous appelez-vous?" France gently inquired.

"What?" the small child asked fearfully.

"Ah! Anglais!" France cried out causing the child flinch and almost start shaking again. (A/N: I'm aware that France probably wouldn't know English and that England wouldn't speak English in this time frame, but for the sake of the story I am making it so.)

France calmed the child again before reintroducing himself in English.

"I'm France, who are you?"

"England." The small child stated softly.

"Why are you so afraid of me?" France asked quietly. The next few sentences shattered France's fragile heart.

"Because my brothers are always mean to me. You're the first person who's ever been nice to me. I'm always alone in those big woods except for my bunny friends. I'm alone. I stand alone."