Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!

A/N: I'm just posting an updating as my inspiration comes! Expect updates on my other stories soon, though!

June 23rd, 1865

The last Confederate General had surrendered and the war was done with. Jonathan H. Jones stood outside a large house in Massachusetts, wondering if his sister would even let him get his foot in the door or if she'd shoot him on sight. Lincoln had just been assassinated after all and he knew how attached Amelia got to their presidents. It didn't help that the assassin killed the man happened to be a southern sympathizer. Wringing his hands, Jonathan bit his lip and stared down at his muddy boots; he had never wanted to fight his sister, never wanted to leave, but when his land left so did he. The whole thing was stupid, if only Amelia could've just been calm about slavery and not tried to take away something his economy needed they would've been fine! No, she had to make a big deal of it and force his people...their people, he supposed, now that the South had rejoined the Union...have their slaves, things would've never gotten that far out of hand.

All of a sudden the door swung open and there she stood, face hard and blue eyes sparkling with anger. Her short, blonde hair was clipped back and she wore a newly pressed Union uniform. Tall black boots fitted her feet and the golden sash around her waist stood out, shining in the sunlight. She had a gun leaned against the wall behind her, he saw, and her house was mess. Her saw blonde eyebrows draw together as she surveyed him and, shockingly, he saw worry seep into her features.

"Where are you bleeding?" She spoke quickly, reaching behind her

Jonathan jumped back, thinking she was going for her gun, and landed on his bad leg. With a pained cry, he fell like a sack of potatoes and hit the ground with a harsh thud. He heard Amelia's started cry and felt her hands on his shoulders, turning him over. He saw a box in her hands and realized with a jolt that it was a medicine kit, she was trying to help him. After him leaving and causing her so much grief, killing her people, and basically spitting in the face of the freedom she loved oh so much by supporting slavery...his sister still wanted to help him.

"God, Johnnie, you can't go jumping around when you're hurt!" He heard her voice and could tell it was scared, not for her but for him, "Just...stay still and I'm gonna take off your jacket okay."

He felt her undo the gold buttons that held the grey material together and expose his undershirt, which she quickly ripped through. On his chest there were several bright red scars and a few still bleeding wounds. His sister worked diligently, holding his hand when the alcohol stung and briefly hugging him when she was through dressing his wounds. Johnathan wasn't sure this was real, maybe he had passed out from blood loss and this was all a dream? There was no way that, after the bloodiest war they'd ever been through, she'd forgive him just like that. He looked up at her, his grey eyes meeting her blue ones. She smiled slightly at him and helped him stand, taking him into the house.

"I'm still upset." She spoke firmly, "You know slavery is wrong, even if your economy needs it, and it kind of hurts that you would side with having slavery spread when you know how I feel about it."

"I didn't want it to spread, per say..." Jonathan spoke, wincing as she set him on the couch, "I just didn't want the South's taken away!"

"Lincoln said he was just going to stop it from spreading West!" Amelia's gaze turned fiery, "That's all I wanted, all the anti-slavery people wanted! Sure, there were some abolitionists, I'm not ashamed to admit I'm happy it's gone, but the South was looking for any damn reason to secede!"

"I-we didn't believe Lincoln." Jonathan swallowed, "We thought once he became president he'd completely take it away and..."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should've waited until then to pull this shit!" Amelia's snapped before wincing, looking ashamed of herself, "I mean...the North was really pushy. I get that, of course I do! I understand why you wanted to make that decision to leave but..."

"It still hurt you?" Jonathan looked down, not seeing Amelia shake her head

"Our fathers brought forth on this continent a nation conceived in liberty..." Amelia muttered, "...and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal."

"Lincoln said that, didn't he?" Jonathan asked, seeing the sadness in his sisters eyes

"Yeah, he did. The point is that even though it hurt me, that's not the reason I'm upset. I guess I always knew slavery was wrong, but I went along with it. That was my own sin, I know. But then I wanted it to stop, wanted this to truly be the land of the free, the home of the brave!"

"You really love that poem. By god, set it to music and make it our anthem why don't you." The southern man muttered

Ignoring him, his sister continued on, "I was hoping you would realize we don't need slaves, only a third of the people in the south had them, but then your people flipped out and left."

Amelia put the medical box back on a shelf, "You left with them."

Jonathan sighed, hanging his head, "I get it, Mia. I was wrong, slavery was wrong."

The blonde woman laughed slightly, "I was wrong too, you know. I was real pushy, controlling about the whole thing. I should've talked to you about it more."

"Yeah. I guess we were both pretty stupid." Jonathan smiled slightly before frowning, "Mia...if I got cut up pretty bad...what happened to you."

Tan skin blanched as Amelia fumbled, wanting to get off the topic, "I, well, that's only because you lost. I didn't really..."

"Mia." Jonathan pried, "You can tell me."

Pursing her lips, his sister grabbed the edge of her jacket and undershirt and bunched them up to the bottom of her breast, revealing her stomach. Searing a jagged, long line right across the middle, the scar was bright red and puffy. Jonathan stared at it in shock, wide eyes looking at it in horror. A sick feeling twisted his gut, and he felt bile rise in his throat. After the War of 1812, when he'd watched scars from the fire in D.C. burn a patch over her heart that her was sure she'd still have, he swore he'd never hurt her in that way. This though, that horrid scar, proved that he had quite successfully broken that promise to himself.

"It's not a big deal." Amelia sighed straightening her close, "It'll heal."

The mood was somber, both of them missing that teasing, loud manner they'd both always had before this war. The way they'd race on horses in the territory out West, or the way they'd have shooting contests, or the way Amelia would make a whole bunch of food and they would see who could eat it the fastest. He supposed they really were brother and sister; both loud, brash, and stupid at times. After all, how else would the two of them alone cause the bloodiest war in American history? Jonathan promised to himself he'd never hurt his sister again, and he'd never let anyone else hurt her either.

"I guess what they say is true, huh?" Jonathan looked at his sister who sat opposite from him, "Divided we fall."

Amelia smiled her thousand watt smile, practically willing her brother to smile with her, "But united we stand."

A/N: I love the Civil War era. Also, don't mistake Jonathan for being like Canada. If he's in a room, you'd know it. He's very loud, loves horseback riding, lassoing, shooting, and a lot of other things such as that. He's also certainly not a pacifist, he just severely regrets this war, just like Amelia.

Question of the Chapter: How should Jonathan be introduced to the nations? Should they hurt her somehow and, him being a southern gentleman, he goes in to protect his sister? Maybe someone tries to get with her romantically and he tries to protect her?