Finally I sat down and wrote this, I swear this song mocks me every time I hear it, it is intimidate mind to USxUK, not that I mind that though. Any way, it took to people to pester me about this on Youtube, I greatly thank them for the encouragement...even if it was just telling me I should do it. So two days ago I did this instead of reading for AP US history...-nervous laugh-...then I failed a test the next day. Oh well, I love you'll so I figured I should write something. -another nervous laugh- Sorry my Crossover are taking so long, but everything pretty much as writers block or my head is not welling to focus on that story. -is working on two twisted America fics-

As you know, I don't own anything...wish I could.


The rain had long since stopped, the opposing army had left in a cheering sort of matter, it was just him there. He didn't know if he was waiting for his army to come back for their dead, or if he was just waiting to wake up from the cold reality he was trapped in at the time. The mud was gripping at him; stealing every tiny bit of warmth his body produced from the happy memories he drowned himself in.

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing
Just prayin' to a god that I don't believe in
Cos I got time while she got freedom
Cos when a heart breaks no it don't break even

He felt a shiver run down his spin, a desperate attempt by his human form to warm up. He was so cold, yet his piercing grip on his uniform kept reminding him he was still alive. He was still England, still the British Empire, still…Arthur. His heart was pounding it out through him, and he just wanted to curl up and not existed for a simple while, that for maybe a few seconds his heart would stop beating. His shallow breathes were still wrenched with sobs from time to time.

Though he really didn't believe in whom he was pleading, not many nations follows of any religion, hoping that by chance this could be dream. He pleaded for the pain to go away, both the torn heart and the physical pain it brought. Not only was his heart beating with the fact the he was alive, but the pain that a part of him left on his own.

Yes, Alfred had been the first colony to revolt and actually completely succeed in secession, and God it hurt. Arthur knew colonial revolts were sometimes painful, for both colony and Empire, but no one really knew what having a colony become independent felt like. Now Arthur felt like his chest was torn apart, on of his many screams when Alfred walked away rather unharmed and independent. God it hurt.


Her best days will be some of my worst
She finally met a man that's gonna put her first
While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping
Cos when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven... even... no

"A whole year…" Arthur muttered to himself, gently reaching for some hard liquor and 'accidentally' pouring it in his tea. It ruined his drink, but like he cared at the moment, as long as it burnt more going down he could care less. It had been a complete year since the end of the American Revolution, a whole year since that blasted treaty.

That blasted Frenchmen, Arthur blamed everything one him. His hand gripped the table as he thought of the very fact that France was allies with America, granted he hadn't stuck around for everything, but from what he told Arthur from time to time, he popped in. It pissed Arthur off, the fact that France could waltz in with no hostility, but even France had that shine in his eyes.

According to him, Alfred hadn't stirred for a while, at least not with his Articles of Confederation[1]. Arthur knew they were weak, and a weak government at times placed a nation in a sound coma, Alfred was no exception. Francis may pop in, but there was little he could do, Alfred would sleep through just about everything. Francis would say at the mention of Arthur, Alfred would scowl through his sleep. Arthur always beat him after, storming off to forget everything.

He cursed Alfred, both for having the ability to snooze on through the years, and leave Arthur with an endless number of sleepless nights. That and a sore chest.

What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you,
And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up that you're ok
I'm falling to pieces, yeah,
I'm falling to pieces

1788 was when Alfred woke up[2]. That summer he woke up to the world again, Arthur could tell even though he hadn't seen it himself, Francis's glint was gone, he smiled slightly. He also knew when by the box that was suddenly at his doorstep, his torn heart ache loudly when he reached for it, finding it was indeed from America.

It contained little things, things Alfred didn't need, but it wasn't everything. The two tea cups Arthur had bought for them, some of his old lesson books, and bits and pieces of things. They all meet the wall soon after being opened. He was scrambling for breath, cursing his stupid heart for aching in its usual way, the way it had every since Alfred left him in the rain. He hadn't felt like this since 1783 when he had gotten to his boat and doubled over in an array of tears and pain.


They say bad things happen for a reason
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding
Cos she's moved on while I'm still grieving
And when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven even... no

"Arthur I have to show you the West," Alfred said excitedly when they reached his house in Washington DC. Arthur scowled at the fact that Alfred was so friendly and excited, completely obvious to his pain. "Great Northern would be nice…maybe Union Pacific if they can fix all the problems." Alfred laughed with thought.

Arthur stared at him, finding hard to believe that the boy had been through a Civil War and corrupted time; he acted like there was no problem[3]. It was obvious Alfred knew the skills it took to walk away from the past, and not hang on; Arthur was just a pack rat at that part. He feels his chest twist slightly when Alfred just gives up on which was the best railroad to take.

"Iggy, you okay?" God he still used that nickname for him, the knife drove in further.

"Fine." Arthur said as he found no pain in Alfred's gaze and simply walked to the guest room he was staying in.

What am I gonna to do when the best part of me was always you,
And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up that you're ok
I'm falling to pieces, yeah,
I'm falling to pieces, yeah,

The door slammed loudly, he didn't care if Alfred flinched or not. He cursed, why wouldn't that blasted pain just leave him already. Couldn't Alfred just take the past knife out of his heart, instead of acting like nothing had happened between the two? Maybe that would stop him from chocking and stumbling about his tears, and not admiring the younger for his optimism and power to over come just about everything.

Because maybe that would make things easier for Arthur, make the pain go away, or patch up his torn heart. Maybe it would make it stop raining back home
I'm falling to pieces
(One still in love while the other ones leaving)
I'm falling to pieces
(Cos when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven)

"Arthur are you sure everything is okay?" Alfred asked with a soft knock, Arthur bit his lip, hard.

"Bloody peachy!" Arthur yelled sourly, masking his tears, quietly rushing to his door and blocking it so Alfred couldn't come in. "I'm just tired," and broken.

Silence consumes the two, Arthur lost in his silent tears of pain and breaking seams. He doesn't know Alfred is still standing outside his door, thinking he's hated. Arthur doesn't know how much his fragile body and pained look makes Alfred wish things could be easier. One thing both don't know was they were resting their foreheads on the door with a broken heart.


Oh you got his heart and my heart and none of the pain
You took your suitcase, I took the blame.
Now I'm try'na make sense of what little remains ooh
Cos you left me with no love and no love to my name.

Alfred won his way into many people's hearts while Arthur sat lonely at home, tying to keep is dwindling empire standing. He saw Alfred from time to time; he was still an air head to the thick pain coated air about Arthur. Alfred came to his house sometimes, always leaving on a sour note, and yet Arthur would still stand there, waiting for him to knock and apologize or something…he never did.

His colonies kept him busy, that and Europe as well, his mind didn't drift to Alfred so much. Yet it seemed Alfred had worked up quiet a bit of talk about him, and least it wasn't as bad as Antonio, who was had just about lost all empire status. Arthur still had some respect, but a lot of heavy finger pointing.

Still he was running low on resources when the First World War started, and it was just spiraling downwards as Alfred rose slowly. He had yet to feel the love.


He smiled sickly at the shambles of his empire, his faded footprint. He shivered in the rain, he knew he needed an umbrella; he was already in ruins enough as it was. He had had some economic downturns, most after wars, didn't make the Second World War any different. Of course that one took his empire with it.

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing
Just prayin' to a god that I don't believe in
Cos I got time while she got freedom
Cos when a heart breaks no it don't break
No it don't break
No it don't break even no

His started back for his house, gently brushing by his people as they all hurried out of the rain, all having a touch of optimism to them. Not one bit of it traveled to Arthur as he started sucking in one shallow breath after another, like it could ease his coming pain. Prying open his door, his face meet the warmth of his house, while his body shivered violently.

Peeling of his wet drench coat and slipping out of his shoes, he sighed, his eyes catching a glance of his phone. He knew what he had to do, economically he couldn't go through with everything…there was no energy or money to do so. His mind flashed back to Alfred and his chest echoed his pain from the muddy battle field.

Freedom for a colony meant pain for their former empire. He just hoped letting them go would be a clearer break that scrambling to keep thing the way they were.

What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you and
What am I suppose to say when I'm all choked up that you're ok
(Oh glad your okay now)

He didn't remember when he started shaking so bad, or when the weak smile formed on his lips. He was happy Alfred wasn't there; there was already enough hate as it was. Arthur could hear the conversation on the other line, but he knew it was for the better. Now, before Alfred ridded of communism and came after him, that and it kept the rest of Europe of his back.

"Are you sure you want to send that message out now?"

"Yes," he said simply before he but the phone down hearing the soft click. With a sad and broken smile, happy no tears had fallen, he walked into the kitchen and made a nice warm pot of tea, it was going to be a long few days coming.
I'm falling to pieces yeah
(Oh I'm glad your okay)
I'm falling to pieces yeah
(One still in love while the other ones leaving)
I'm falling to pieces
(Cos when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven)

His chest twisted like it did with the aftermath of the American Revolution, his grip on his book tightened, and he crammed his green eyes shut. Don't think about that, not that, anything but Alfred. A sharp twist and Arthur whimpered slightly, just like the start of the Revolution. Arthur wasn't sure when he dropped the book and curled up into a ball on his couch. He wanted something to make everything stop, but was in no mood to move, he gripped his dirty blonde locks.

"Iggy, you home?" Arthur's eyes shot open suddenly, spiraling his world in pain, still hardly touching the pain Alfred caused. "England?" Arthur gave a small yelp as there was another sharp twist. "Arthur!"

Arthur didn't remember much of the sounds Alfred made when he hurried in to find his ex-brother curled up with tears in his eyes. He just remembered Alfred's sky blue eyes and his sunny hair, and the strong pressure on his arm. He remembered his fingers fumbling for a grasp of Alfred, they found one, but not for long. His world went black despite Alfred's pleads and soft kisses.


Alfred had carried Arthur to his bed, covered him and everything, like he had once done for him. With a smile he placed a small kiss on his forehead and left to tend what he could. He tired to support Arthur as best he could while the man was still passed out. Alfred knew he wasn't handy in a house, but he at least tired to water the plants, so what if some of them where fake, they looked real.

He stared at the endless rain outside the window. He wondered if Arthur still hated him, when they were allies it didn't seem like that, but then again they had to get along, they were backing one another. Still just the thought of hatred from Arthur made his heart ache.

To his luck, Arthur came too when Alfred had popped his head in for a quick peek, the Briton stared at him when he walked in and sat down. None of them talked, merely exchanged a weak smile and a broken scowl.

Oh it don't break even no

"I let them go." Arthur started, and Alfred looked at him confused, those green eyes flooding with sadness. "It doesn't hurt…like before."

"What are you talking about old man?" Alfred tease, expecting some kind of out burst from the older nation. Nothing came out of his mouth, but tears spilled slightly.

"Oh, bloody hell," Arthur grumbled, his hands flying to hide his tears from a former colony, but he was beat by that same person.

Oh it don't break even no

Arthur cursed himself, why couldn't he have built a high wall that would have blocked Alfred out completely, crushed every chance to fix things. Yet he couldn't bring himself to hate those blue eyes no matter how hard he tried.

"Now what are you talking about?" Alfred asked with a hint of smile in his voice.

"My colonies, you git," Arthur muttered sharply, earning a shocked look from Alfred. "Granted, it will probably take a while for them to become completely independent…but the British Empire is withdrawing." He swallowed loudly in his mind.

Alfred smiled, gently placed his lips on Arthur, who stiffened with wide green eyes.

Oh it don't break even no

It didn't take long for the two to catch up on how the other had felt for the past two centuries almost. Arthur's chest ached with a strange new warmth. It wasn't painful or reminding of the past, it was just warm and very there. He smiled, a true smile, feeling the warmth of Alfred's words in his ear. "I love you…never really stopped."


OMG!!! I wrote history X3 in this whole thing. And here are the little footnote things.

1)The Articles of Confederation was the first government in America. It was a very weak government, but it got America through the Revolution, well that and France.

2)June 21, 1788 was when the American Constitution was officially adopted after nine states ratified it. The time between the two forms of government was know as the Critical Period, and basically was a live or die period for America. France and England were closely eying America to see what they would do, kinda waiting to stomp on us when we failed, but America did. The whole a coma thing was something I saw in From the New World with Love (I believe that is the title, go find it on Youtube, very good at putting Hetalia to both American and English history).

3)The Gilded Age followed the Civil War with much corruption, it was in government and business, all about money my dear. Either way, most of the Transcontinental Railroads were part of them, only the Great Northern was made to run like the business with nothing from the government, it was the only railroad that didn't have to be redone either.

4) (there is no footnote for this) The British Empire dwindled after the Second World War, and let it's colonies go. It was a big thing in Europe, anti-colonization, American's were for it, but anti-communism was large then that.

Okay, so I'm done with that, now I will explain the story. I was thinking about Alfred leaving Arthur and though about if it physically hurt Arthur, after all, Alfred had been his colony. So I figured in exchange for a Colony to be free, the empire has to feel the pain. This is kind of a jump to the end, but because Alfred left in a bloody Revolution, it was complete agony for Arthur, and Arthur agreed to let his other colonies go, it was painful because a lot of people were leaving him, but it was more of a clean slice. I guess I like angst, and Alfred and Arthur have a lot of it, but this is my metaphorical mind thinking. Because Alfred tore away, it wasn't a clean cut down the middle of their love hearts, it was kind of, Alfred has some of Arthur's and vise versa. Cheesy I know, but I don't care.

Okay I wrote a lot and I don't want to type boring things any more. Any questions ask me, I'll try to answer my way of thinking.

Please RxR