one shot! i don't own hetalia
Arthur sat down at the table. It had the unfortunality of being a table for two, something Arthur noted almost immediately. This would seriously mess with his focus. Unfortunately, people don't generally make tables for one. Maybe he should leave, go to a café or something. But the other countries were bound to be at all the other cafés, and he really didn't feel like running into any of them. Well, except for one country. But that country was currently lost, and had been to the past 5 years. The Americans wouldn't let anyone near their personification. The world needed a hero. And who would fill that purpose better than Alfred? No one. No one could take his place.
AMERICA!
Alfred!
Brother
America!
America!
America!
Amérique
America
My names are repeated a thousand times. Who is calling my name? They need me. I can feel it. My family needs me. Arthur. Francis. Matthew. They need me. They need my heroic skills. I need to go to them. I need to wake up.
His eyes flash open. The machine attached to him blinks like crazy. Dinging fills the air. People swarm to him.
"Sir?"
He clears his throat.
"It's time for me to leave. Isn't it?"
"Well, I suppose, just as soon as we call someone..."
"No need. I want to surprise them."
The man swings his legs over the side of the bed, before detaching as many of the wires as possible, and letting the doctors rush to his side, taking out the wire that are under his skin. When he is wire free, he smiles than stands up.
"Thank you for letting me stay here."
He walks out of the hospital.
Matthew sighed. Another meeting. Nothing getting accomplished was the goal of these things. While a few years ago, he would have given anything to be in his position today, now it's almost normal, and really annoying. Without Alfred, the other countries had been forced to recognize Matthew for who his was, and also seemed to turn to him as much as they did Alfred, even though they knew he was no Alfred. He was no America. He had no idea how America lived with this for hundreds of years. He had learned to appreciate his brother more.
His attention was brought back to the room by a door swinging open. He looked up, noting the tall, dark colored figure that came through the door. The fedora on the man's head covered his face. Germany stood to tell the man off.
"Excuse me."
"Ah, yes Germany?"
"Do you know how important this meeting is?"
"Oh, so you actually do get stuff accomplished now?"
"Of course-"
France popes in
"No!"
The man smiles under his hat.
"So why can't I be here?"
"Because you're not a country."
"I never said that. No one has ever said that."
"Well new countries have to go though the board."
"I have been accepted by the board."
"Then why isn't your introduction on my list of things to do? That's always what happens on a country's first meeting."
"Who said this is my first meeting?" the man replies. He smiles, his smile soon turning into a grin. Before he is outright chuckling. Everyone is staring at him, like he's gone mad or something. He glances around. Sighing, he grabs the rim of his hat. He lifts it up. First thing reviled are his eyes. Sparkling blue eyes. Then his cowlick, then his golden hair. America smiled.
"Miss me you guys?"
yes. i wrote this entire thing for the last line. review!