Warnings: Angst, death, homosexuality, war, nukes, death, vaguely anti-American (I don't mean it.) DEATH, ANGST.
A/N: I'd grab some tissues for this part, I cried while writing it, but then, I'm soppy. And thanks to Kayleigh for being my beta.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Hidekaz Himaruya does.
"Did I stop him?" came a tired voice, a voice that was tired of living, the voice of a brave man disappearing forever.
"Yes, Arthur, you stopped him from destroying Asia." Francis smiled softly, knowing England was dying. Not just Arthur either; the bodies of brave men, women and children who'd all held hands and died together.
"They owe me." coughed Arthur coughing, more blood splattered out his mouth. His entire uniform was stained red, his blond hair tainted with the thick-crimson liquid. "Are we still...in Stonehenge?" he asked gripping Francis' shirt and pulling him towards him for comfort.
"I...yes..." Francis nodded.
"That curse will-," Arthur gave a violent shake. Francis pulled the Englishman closer to him. "-will stop pretty much everything he tries to send over here. You're all safe. What's left of you anyway." He'd started to cry though he tried not to show it.
Francis had too. He'd forgotten how many countries and people America had killed, how many cultures were forever gone, how many races were completely wiped out.
Turkey and Greece had been the first to go, then the Baltic states, Austria, Hungary and Belarus and Ukraine had been an unlikely team and bravest. Canada and Cuba hadn't even done anything, all of the middle-east, South America and Africa...
It was only China, Japan, Korea was barely alive, Russia, both of the Italys, Germany and Prussia and finally France. Francis didn't even have a home any more. Neither did Romano, Veneziano, Ludwig and Gilbert. France was just a wasteland, like everywhere else America had touched. It was lucky Ivan was so kind to let the few survivors live in Russia as guests.
Which is why Francis wondered why Stonehenge was still standing.
"You know...not even I know why this is here?" Arthur smiled his hand – covered in clotted blood – touched Francis' cheek. "Though...it's still here… Tell Ivan that Alfred will be heading for what is left of here, won't you? Also tell him to destroy Stonehenge, leave nothing of Britain. Nothing" he started to shake and cough more violently.
"...Nothing?"
"...Just one thing, keep it alive." Arthur smiled, his tears flowing freely now.
"What's that?" Francis bit his lip, fighting back tears. For he knew once he started to cry, he'd never stop. He pulled Arthur very close, so the Englishman wouldn't have to struggle to talk loudly.
"Don't let people forget me, if...no...When we win, when we stop Alfred, let children read about the brave sacrifice the people of the United Kingdom made. How freely they smiled as said 'Of course, we don't matter that much anyway' how happily we acted as we walked into this knowing none of us would live. When really we were scared, so scared as we held hands. How we forgot where we came from, our race, colour, religion and class. Let children remember how fucking awesome we were. How fucking British we were." Arthur muttered placing a bloodied hand on Francis' cheek. "I'm also sorry for every ugly, evil and bad thing I've ever done and...That I love you."
Francis really was crying now, "A-Arthur...that was the most...oh Arthur!" he sobbed into the Englishman's jacket. He felt Arthur's warm mouth connect with his in a kiss. He tasted of Earl grey, gravy, bitter alcohol...and the metallic tang of blood. This kiss should have lasted forever.
But it didn't. The warmth from Arthur's body slowly went away. His eyelids stopped fluttering. He stopped shaking, and his heartbeat slowed to a stop.
Francis pulled away from Arthur and laid him neatly on the hard earth.
"How precious." Came the wicked voice of a changed man.
"...Alfred..." muttered Francis sobbing, not even turning to look at the younger man. "What happened to you?" he hiccupped through tears.
He heard the gun click.
"I stopped trying to be the Hero." Alfred replied coldly.
Francis raised his arms, "Are you going to kill me?"
"Depends. Are you a good guy...or a bad guy?" Francis could see Alfred giving a sly smirk not like the old sweet goofy American he once was.
"Good guy."
"Shame,"
BANG.
To be continued.