This is a US x UK twoshot~!

If you think you recognize the butchered plot line of a song, you'd be right! The song I based this on was "Crashed The Wedding" by Busted.

Yes before I said it would be a oneshot, but it seems better put into two chapters.

Roughly half-way through Parting Is Such A Sweet Sorrow, I had this idea but I decided not to do it. Then I listened to the song again and I absolutely had to. Blame this for the wait in some chapters if you must!, but I'm honestly kinda proud of it :D

I support both FrUK, but I thought that the love triangle would go good with this song. So if it seems like I'm bashing FrUk, I only am because I have to look through the eyes of a more US x UK fangirl...

Here ya go now~

Chapter I

Francis stood at the front of the church where everyone could see him. Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, everyone who sat in the pews watched him. His tuxedo was perfectly straight and crisp, his hair hung on top of his head like usual (though it seemed more kempt), and his attitude was actually in check. He was about to get married now wasn't he?

When the music suddenly started playing, his mother broke out crying. Whether from joy or the overpowering lilac smell, no one would ever know. Francis turned his head sideways so he could stare straight into the bride's green eyes across the room. Oh how beautiful they were. So clear, so peaceful, just so...everything. Good thing they were about to be his or someone would just steal them away in a heartbeat.

"Dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit!" Arthur's mind was racing despite his serene smile. Where was he? He was supposed to walk him down the aisle for God's sake!

Arthur rubbed his temples and walked around in a circle. Think Arthur think! "I could just go without him, but that wouldn't be right since he said that he would come...and...and I want to see him..." Just then his mother came over to him

"Honey, we know that you wanted to wait for Alfred, but he isn't here. You need to go on alone, or at least have Francis walk you, okay?" His mother's face was sympathetic; it almost made Arthur want to break out crying.

"Yes ma'am." He nodded his head with barely any resistance, most likely from the shame of being stood up. His mother then quickly slipped back into her pew without anyone noticing her absence.

He didn't want to get married to him anymore; he just wanted to be with Alfred. But even if they had their differences, and even if they could barely stand each other at times, he just couldn't hurt Francis. To top it all off, Alfred wasn't here so that definitely meant that he didn't care about him anymore.

"Which one do I choose..." His voice trailed off as he made his decision. He then gestured for Francis to come over, and Francis did just that with a joyful smile plastered on his face.

SCREEEECH

Alfred rounded the corner, driving only as a Californian would. He reached over to the passenger's seat and grabbed the map for a few brief seconds.

"Vialoux," He turned onto the street. "Yorktown," He turned again, "Where the hell is Gordon!"

He frantically looked to his sides searching for the street. He wouldn't, no, he couldn't live without Arthur. A life without him would be torture, if he was even alive. He would do anything to be able to hold him again. No matter what the cost.

"There!"

He had just turned onto Gordon Street when a small sound came from his left. It got louder and louder, but Alfred didn't notice, all he had on his mind was their new life together.

"Just a few more feet..." He was so close, so close to the church. It was merely 100 feet away. Something red passed by his face, and then his eyes got very wide.

"Mon amour, Is something wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing, it's nothing!" Arthur crossed his arms and turned away from the Frenchman.

"Don't be such a sourpuss! It is our beautiful wedding after all~" Francis cooed, nearly floating over to his side.

Arthur's face got a little softer after hearing those words, but was still as stern as ever.

"Come ooonnnn!" Francis pulled one of Arthur's arms out enough so he could slip his inside, then signaled Lili to go forward.

"Let go of me!" He squealed quietly, but not completely unnoticed. Lili turned around toward the couple with her head cocked to one side.

"It's okay~! He's just being a little stubborn." Francis pouted and stretched Arthur's cheek a little bit, receiving an annoyed glare back.

They were like that for a little while until one of the ladies from the audience cleared her throat. Their heads snapped forward, realizing that they needed to go soon. Arthur sighed, as expected, and they proceeded onward with Lili walking in front.

"Oh shiiiiii..." Alfred felt like his entire life was going in slow motion. He tried to slam on the breaks, but to no avail. His car was tossed around, rolling until it crashed into a tree. Smoke was pouring out of the hood while people gathered around the scene.

The other vehicle, a Nissan Sentra, was flipped over in the middle of the road with its driver slowly being crushed under the weight. The driver looked unconscious as blood slowly dripped from his sternum onto the roof of the coffin.

The throng of people looked mortified at the sight; it was a peaceful little town where not much happened. This is one of the few accidents that happened every year, so no one really knew what to do. A little kid was holding onto her mother's dress, a man listening to his MP3 player, another was going through their purse, some people gathered to pray, and a few people just kept on walking as if the accident never happened.

"I..c..can't die..here!" Alfred shakily undid his seat belt, trying to maintain consciousness. Blood and small debris matted all around his hair, making it look as if it was brown instead of its usual sandy color. He dragged himself over the passenger's seat and opened the door. He crawled out of the car as the people pointed and stared at the 'invincible man', probably because of the way that his once-white shirt almost looked like Superman's now.

Even if Alfred had crawled out of his personal death-trap, that was only part of the battle. He lifted himself up, slowly but surely, and started stumbling to the church doors. They had seemed so close a few moments ago, but now they just seemed near impossible to reach. After a few steps, he fell onto the grass. He tried to get up over and over again, but to no avail. His legs couldn't support him anymore. Then he remembered a training video he had seen only a few weeks beforehand.

'The Few, The Proud, The Marines.'

His resolve never faded as he started pulling himself to the building. He dragged himself over 200 feet, risking getting his multiple cuts infected, risking getting run over, and risking blood-loss just for his love.

Soon afterward, he had reached the steps. By now he had a blood trail following him, most likely coming from the deep cuts on his abdomen. Despite his bodily appearance, he still had that persistent look in his cerulean eyes. His legs protested at his very thoughts, but he didn't care. They would work for him, even if for only a few minutes, since that was all he needed. Ambulance sirens sounded from a distance as he lifted himself up one last time.

The pastor spoke in a creaky, almost archaic voice, "...in sickness and in health for however long you shall both live?"

"I do." Francis replied, smiling at his soon-be-wife. Arthur put on a happy face, though he wasn't really feeling that way on the inside. It was like...like he felt empty and abandoned. He hid it well in his expression nevertheless.

"And do you Arthur Kirkland take...?"

Just then the doors swung open to reveal a bloody, battered American. Everyone's heads turned to the back, staring in shock.

He held onto the pews as he moved forward, blood dripping down his tattered clothes, and smiling at Arthur. He only made it halfway. A small pool had started forming around his feet, and grew with every passing second. His face was the same as usual, though his hair was sticking to his forehead and cheeks, except for the fact that his glasses were cracked. There were also scratches along his cheeks, but they weren't identity-changing in the least bit. If anything they just sullied his face.

"I...made it..." He chuckled, tilting his head slightly. He shrugged, "Good..luck yo.." He coughed up blood into his hands. "...u guys..." Then suddenly he had a huge pain throughout his body and slowly fell to the floor.

His vision blurred in and out and he had another bloody coughing fit, but that didn't stop him from trying to speak. "Arthur, please forgive me..." His last images were filled with his love running toward his side, screaming his name all the while.

[1] Francis Bonnefoy - France

[2] Arthur Kirkland - England

[3] Alfred F. Jones - America

[4] Not to be mean to Californians! My dad has told me that they drive really bad and we're talking about America so yeah...please don't hurt me ):

[5] Mon amour - My love

[6] Lili Zwingli - Liechtenstein

I had to make a tribute to my old home's street! Vialoux, it's ironic that you're French are you not? And you too Yorktown, you had to be a British/American battle? *Actually I didn't realize the last one until I looked it up to see... xD* Then Gordon is used in the song :3

Stick around for the final half of the twoshot if you please~

Hej då!