"NOOOO! NO OH GOD NO!" America shrieked with his hands on his head, watching as the Ghana scorer ran victoriously around the field, being buried by his teammates in celebration. You could almost feel the American majority in the crowd's anger and loss of hope. "IT'S ALL OVER, IT'S HAPPENING AGAAAIIIN! It's all over…" he buried his face in his arms, nearly in tears.

England cursed under his breath, glaring at the opposing team. He seethed, not about ready to see Ghana defeat America once again. He hated to see the younger nation so hopeless. "Pull yourself together, America, there's still a chance." he murmured quietly, not taking his eyes off the field and resting his elbows on the railing. For his own sake, he had to hope the American team could pull through and finally win the football game. He narrowed his eyes at the scorer, and smirked as the man looked around in alarm. Benefits of being a nation. "America will win this game," he said to himself. "Else I shall perish under the grief of another defeat for a team that isn't even mine." He puffed out his chest and raised his chin confidently, looking down upon the field, knowing the words wouldn't do anything and all he could do was hope. "They won't lose again," he told his former charge, gently patting his back with a slight smile.

America whimpered and peeked from his fortress at the field as Britain petted his head, stroking his hair. "It's hopeless," he whined. "I'm going to lose to them again." he sniffled and leaned into the British nation.

"No you're not, don't say that." England replied soothingly, feeling terrible and trying to raise America's mood. He looked around, noting all the people who were absorbed by the game as it continued. He was probably the odd one out, having no attire/facepaint/flag that promoted either team, as opposed to America himself, who at least had a team jersey on, and he suddenly wished he'd at least brought something that was red, white, and blue. "Oi, do you want to watch the game from the field?" he leaned down to ask when the crowd randomly erupted into shouts for no particular reason.

"S-sure," America replied, and allowed Britain to grasp his hand and lead him. They had to jump out of the way of many outbursts(That scared the living daylights out of England, to say the least) as the USA made attempts to score, but they only had a few minutes left so England tried to hurry. At one point in their careful stepping, someone threw a random flag at England that didn't even apply to the game, and it draped over his head. He was really confused for a moment, wondering why the light suddenly went dark, until he realised what it was. Sensing America was still upset behind him, Britain turned and said "Oh, look America, they think I'm a terrorist," and he smiled when it made America giggle.

He grabbed America's hand again after he ripped the flag off of his head and let it flutter to the ground. "Let's go, quickly now," he urged, and gratefully stumbled into one of the entryways that led to the interior of the stadium. Finally clear of the seemingly endless fans, he walked at a more comfortable pace. He was glad there weren't as many people down here as he got down the ramp and headed for the closest entrance to the field. "Right-o! Should we go in this w-?" he turned to a nonexistent America and frowned confusedly. "America?"

He turned again to find that the said nation had stopped at the end of the ramp and was watching him with a childlike worry. Britain hadn't noticed he'd stopped. "Oi, oi, Alfred, what's the matter?" his eyes softened and his brows creased worriedly as he jogged back, frowning. "What's wrong, love, are you al-?" he was cut off as America drew him closer suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace and hid his face in England's shoulder.

"...Ah…" he said unsurely, slowly wrapping his arms around the younger nation's neck. "A-Ame...Alfred…" he mumbled, not quite certain what he was supposed to do. Well, what America wanted him to do. After an odd moment, he figured he probably shouldn't just stand there. So, he stuck to old habits and ran his fingers through his silky hair as the upset nation struggled not to sob.

"I-Iggy…" he muttered to his shoulder. "When we lose, you won't mind when I go bury myself for a century or two, right?" he asked weakly.

"Oh, America," England sighed with a voice full of concern. "Don't say that. Even if you do lose, I haven't ever seen your team play this well together before. You scored within the first minute! You still stand a chance to win; at worst you tie, right?" he tipped America's chin up and smiled sadly as his lip trembled. He nodded, and Britain knew he didn't want to try to say anything, lest he start crying for real. "Shh, shh, I promise you, you're not losing to Ghana again." he brushed his thumbs under America's eyes and gently took his hand again. "We'd best hurry; we're at Eighty-four minutes."

America opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, then closed it again.

England read his mind. "That's right," he chuckled. "Only ten or so minutes to change the world."

O~o~O

"Excuse me, you aren't allowed on the field. You have to go back." one of the officials told them, coming up to the pair and shifting her glasses.

Without a word, both nations simultaneously flashed their ID's and continued onwards without even looking at her, making the lady drop her clipboard in alarm as she realised who they were. With no more resistance, they hurried through the hall, past the bar and through the gate where presumably the American team entered in the first place. England had to pause and look around for a moment; it wasn't often he came by stadiums.

Finally they stepped out through the arching doorway where the game continued without delay. Everyone was sprinting towards the closest side of the field to the nations, where the Americans were trying to score. They were making a run for it, and it looked great, but then one of the Ghana players managed to kick the football out of bounds.

"Come along, then," England offered a rare smile and led America to the sidelines, where the coaches waved at them. He turned his attention to the field where one of the players in red lined up for a corner kick. "Now watch, something's up…" he frowned, walking a little closer and sensing America doing the same.

The next thing either of them knew, the ball was kicked in and one player tried to make a header, but just missed. All in that one instant, America lost hope in that moment and looked away, tears filling his eyes. No hope…But he was startled when England started screaming.

"YEEEES! BLOODY HELL YEAH! THAT IS HOW YOU SCORE A GOAL, AMERICA!" he shouted without delay, whooping and yelling and grinning and basically giving voice to what all the people of America felt in that moment. "IN- YOUR- FACE, GHANAAA, HA HA! THAT IS HOW YOU PLAY FOOTBALL AND YOU LOT BETTER NOT FORGET IT! AMERICA IS VICTORIOUS!"

America glanced up at the screen in the room behind them and watched the repeat of the goal that he just missed seeing. He blinked, going numb, and Britain turned to see him, sporting a huge smile. "Alfred," he said excitedly, approaching him with a spring in his step. "You've won, love." he pinched his cheeks and tried to make him smile as he blinked in disbelief. " There's no way Ghana can come back. You've been redeemed!" he said softly, looking up at America with the most heartfelt admiration. It'd been a while since the Brit had looked so excited.

"W-we…" America mumbled, finally processing the full meaning. "W-we won…" he gasped in astonishment, and looked at England incredulously. "S-since the 1930's…" his voice cracked and Britain immediately moved closer and hugged him meaningfully, knowing it was a lot to take in. He felt America's warm tears on his shoulder and implored him to watch the last six minutes of the game.

It was only when the final whistle blew that the full weight, the full impact, the full greatness of the game hit America, and in the duration of the cheers making the stadium go deaf, as well as a beautifully unexpected state of mind, America suddenly turned England around by the shoulders, and it seemed a mutual agreement as the two met eyes. In that moment, America yanked him closer and kissed him fiercely, just for a little. Britain's eyes were wide, surprised and shocked and...Happy. No one seemed to notice the two.

And when America pulled away, England smiled.

It wasn't just any smile, it was Britain's teary-eyed smile that meant this was something meaningful, something that was a revelation, a revolution, even.

"I think we're all winners here," he said quietly, and America nodded with an equally happy smile.

Alright, very short, right :D Very gay, indeed too *Strokes nonexistent moustache* I believe I did well, and I mean no offense to Ghana fans, but I saw a perfect Usuk moment :D If you like, and want for me to continue with these random game interpretations, I would appreciate if you, oh gracious reader, would let me know :) I half-wrote this watching The Grand Budapest Hotel, so lol yea XD Love to know what you think~ Thank you for reading ^^

~Fezzes64(AND LET'S ALL ROOT FOR BOTH AMERICA AND ENGLAND, IGGY STILL HAS A CHANCE AND AMERICA'S ON A ROLL, RIGHT?! WHOOO :D)