"The Cross Under the Starry Sky"

Disclaimer: Do not own, obviously. Otherwise I'd be a millionaire. I wanted to make a fanfiction that stressed how dark and serious both nations can be. I wouldn't want to fuck with them personally. Seriously, do you want USA knocking down your door? I sure as fuck wouldn't like it!
Summary: Despite his menacing, racing thoughts, England visits America in hopes of creating international policy, but surprisingly gets more than he's bargained for…
Chapters: I – I Loved You Once / II – Now You're Gone / III – United We Stand, You and I

Chapter I: I Loved You Once

It was a typical hot and humid mid-July night on the American plains. The soft, melodic rumbles of distant thunder could be heard across the field. In a dance, the tall and thick country grass began to sway with the passing winds. A blonde-haired man, slightly short in stature, breathed in slowly through his nostrils. As the dense air filled his lungs, he closed his eyes.

It has been so long…

He never guessed he'd return here one day. The land has been so unwelcoming to him in recent years. He felt like he didn't belong and, besides, why would he want to see him? Why would he dare to revisit those memories?

But this vast and fertile land full of rich beginnings and promise had him under a spell, and he didn't pay any mind. In fact, he probably enjoyed it. This was the place he once considered a home away from home. This was the land he discovered, built up, and called his own.

In a daze, the man clad in green lowered himself onto one knee, taking in the quiet beauty of the calm before the storm. He couldn't let his emotions get the best of him, he thought. This trip was official business, specifically requested by Japan, to break a deal with America. The talks would hopefully secure a strong, unrelenting alliance between the foreign nations.

Foreign… nations…

Honda made it all sound so easy. Did he expect him to be so successful in just one try? He didn't want to let Japan down – he is one of the few allies he treasures in this world. The situation at hand was just too difficult and too painful to explain.

"Maybe I just held on too tightly," he whispered to himself, his deep emerald eyes fixated on the ground below him as he threw his other knee down. The weary man tightened his fists into tiny balls, collecting little bits and pieces of the earth below him in desperation. He had to hold onto something, anything, before he'd think of more irrational thoughts.

"Hey, England!" A distant, youthful voice called out from behind him, interrupting the madness of his clamorous mind.

Arthur's eyes flashed open, his lips slightly parted in a quick gasp. He shook his head frantically, breaking himself from the trance. The footsteps, softened by the lush grass, accelerated until they came to an abrupt halt beside him.

The tall, handsome blonde placed his hands on his waist, throwing his hip to one side in disappointment. "Ah, man. What a bummer! Japan said you'd be out here. 'He went to lunch!' he said, but here you are napping like the old geezer you are!"

"Hey! What's with the 'old geezer' thing now?!" Arthur slapped his hand against his own chest, "And I'm not sleeping!"

"Ahahahahaha! Old men are so boring, they put themselves to sleep!" Alfred laughed in his usual boisterous and absent-minded manner. The seemingly care-free, younger man flung himself down beside him, folding his arms behind his head. He looked up at the gray and dreary sky with wide, bright eyes, smiling as if it were a clear and sunny day.

"But I wouldn't know that," He added, "because I'm in tip-top HERO shape!"

"I'd rather be an old man than a selfish, naïve bugger like you!" The older man hissed, turning his head in the other direction. "I mean, seriously, the whole world thinks you're dense!"

Alfred paused for a moment, "Oh?" He picked up a dandelion beside his hip, studying its shape and color. "You really think so, bro?"

"Don't tell me you don't notice that neither!" Brushing his blonde bangs away from his eyes, Arthur let out a short, quick sigh in disgust.

The youth cracked a soft smile at him, resting the dandelion on the leg of his jeans. Of course he knew what they said amongst each other. No matter how eager he was to shoot any assumptions down, America, the strong and the brave, had to endure. He could not let them see that the criticisms had an effect on him, or were even acknowledged. It was his way of proving to others that he was worth something. The trait was a blessing yet, in time, a curse as well.

For the next few moments, no further words were exchanged. The two fell silent as flashes of lighting pulsated in the distance. Alfred ran his palm down the front of his plaid shirt, casually kneading out the bumps and creases between buttons.

"Hey, England…" His soft, gentle voice surprised Arthur, "About this… thing… do you think it's gonna be another World War?"

Unable to deliver a quick enough response, Arthur focused his gaze on the grim horizon before them. The now turbulent, troubled winds began to rustle his previously flawless hair. He appeared stoic, but his mind remained noisy and chaotic. Funny enough, maybe the scene before him was a preview of the near future. It only felt like yesterday that London was reduced to ashes. Was history bound to repeat itself?

"I don't know. It's something I'm trying to avoid," was all the troubled man could muster.

The skies above grew bleaker each passing second. Alfred certainly didn't overlook it. The large and ominous storm clouds scurried across the plain leaving only darker ones to remain. With two fingers, the American adjusted the glasses resting on his nose.

"If you avoid everything, they'll start talking. They'll take advantage of you."

There was a chilling seriousness that resonated with his words. It was a certain personality that was commonly and actively concealed during mundane, every day events. England could recall this demeanor all too well. It was the same sinister energy witnessed in various circumstances throughout America's short history: the 1773 uprising against him in Boston, the Normandy landings in 1944, and the moments before the invasion of Cuba in 1961. The murderous look in his eyes made him fear for his own life.

It was rare to see America so serious like this, Arthur thought. He couldn't help but exchange glances with him as he reflected on his words. Maybe he's right. I have softened up in recent years. I'm not the empire people used to fear. But there was so much bloodshed and so much damage was done to his country, he wasn't sure if he could endure all the suffering once more, and if he could stay by America's side any longer.

Hard, heavy raindrops began to slowly fall on Arthur's cheeks. The sound of the rain against the summer grass beckoned him to confess his innermost concerns to America. He didn't want him to wage war just to prove a point. What would an England be without his English-speaking allies? He wanted to warn America to not be hasty and reckless with international affairs. He thought to give it a shot, just this one time. Besides, he was to return to his homeland tomorrow. Who knows if he would ever return? It was now or never.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak -

"Mr. England! Mr. America!"

It was a small, soft and familiar voice. Both men glanced over their shoulder.

"Please come inside! It's starting to rain, and we have to finish today's meeting." A quiet, observant gentleman stood behind the house's French doors, shielding himself from the impending wrath of nature that was brewing.

Alfred let out a chuckle. It's just that silly Japan. The eerie ambience around them relaxed and he seemed to gradually return to his usual, lighthearted self. Alfred let out a disheartening sigh, almost sulking. "Man, really? Come on, these meetings are super boring." He dreaded having to sit for so long again…

The rain began to pick up in speed, relentlessly beating down on the two blondes, drenching them. Arthur despised getting his clothes sullied. In an attempt to give him a hint to seek refuge indoors, he shot the buffoon beside him a wicked glare from the corner of his eye. "Don't tell me you're just going to go off and do your own thing, you idiot!"

"Yep! This is the mark of a HERO!" He flashed Arthur a thumbs up, giving him a wink. To no avail, Alfred wasn't getting the message.

He should have known he was asking for too much. Getting flustered, the Britain growled under his breath. "Why, you little-! Can we just go inside already?! I'm sure my scones are cold by now!"

"Scones…? W-w-waaaaahhh! I can't take it! I can't!" As if a fire was suddenly lit under him, Alfred jumped up on his feet. He ran to the quiet, observant Japan in obvious distress. "Save me, dude! Do anything to convince him I'm not eating those!"

The obviousness of Alfred's aversion to one of his finest delicacies angered England immensely. "Shut up, you git! They're better than your bastardized biscuits!" In an instant, the old man sprung up in an attempt to catch up to the obnoxious brat.

Japan hung his head, letting out a sigh. He was so used to these pointless battles, and, in all honesty, he thought they were adorable. Westerners surely had a funny way of showing their affections…

America rushed past his contemplative, eastern ally. There was no way England could catch up to him now. At this moment and until the end of history, he had to be the very best: the world's go-to, the world's number one hero. This was a race to the finish and a personal challenge he brought onto himself. He felt a warm sensation in the pit of his stomach growing as his feet kissed the floor, step by step. England, you can leave it to me! I'll prove to you that I'm your HERO!

"Ahahahahaha!"

I loved you once -
all innocence is gone.
You look down at me
with a cold, lifeless glare.
You are so great, your will is strong -
My will is YOU,
I can't say no.

- To be continued… -

Notes:

*The Boston Tea Party of 1773 in America was a noteworthy protest against Britain's tea-taxing policies.

On June 6, 1944, the Invasion of Normandy ("D-Day") in present day France was a battle won by the Allied Forces against the Axis (specifically Nazi Germany.)

In 1961, during the Cold War, the Bay of Pigs Invasion was an attempt by the USA to overthrow Cuba's socialist government. The plan eventually failed and was seen as a major embarrassment to the United States.