Nothing I ever did seem to have worked.
Even though I had so many chances, I still could not make it so we could be together.
Because you always died no matter what I did.
And it was always me who killed you.
…
Alfred woke with hollow ache in his bones. Something in the air made his nose wrinkle in distaste. Ah, the smell of gunpowder and sweat. He knew what time it was again. The revolutionary war, of course. Every time he decided to off himself, he found himself in this time period, redoing his early years once more. Alfred always thought it must be some sort of karma to force him to live through the worst parts of his history over and over again. But that was alright. After all, it meant that England was still here.
His figure shook as some unwanted memories flittered across his mind. He silently groaned. He usually knew better than to move after coming back. England put a nasty gash on his right abdomen from Brandywine, and he still hasn't recovered from that yet. Ha! Though he was going to give him an even worse injury in just a few days.
"England…" America's voice cracked.
He wondered why things had to come to this.
Alfred never wanted this. Really. England was so kind to him before; he always catered to the whims of America. But this time, even after he pleaded with him…kneeled on the floor and BEGGED HIM, England would not relent, would not relinquish his chokehold. There was a collar on his neck, one that only tightened as time passed. WHY!? All he asked was an opportunity to show that he was capable of being a nation.
All he asked was a little bit of trust.
Perhaps it was his mistake from the beginning to even dare to revolt, and that was why he's constantly sent back to this time remind him of that fact. To remind him that this was the mistake that started it all, like the fall of a row of dominos. Alfred could almost certainly say this is an exclusive hell designed just for him. It was fate's decision to make it so he would always return to the point after which he decided to declare war. She would laugh at him for being able to change every decision after he ripped his ties with England, but not the one that lost him those ties.
As if to say there is nothing you can do to change history.
Everything will end up the same no matter what you try to do.
No matter how powerful you will grow to become…
You are a mere pawn in fate's hands.
…How frustrating…
This has got to be 178th time, right?
"Hahaha…"
"I think I'm a little insane right now."
America put his hand on his forehead, as if he could will away the headache that he seemed to constantly have.
He suddenly smiled.
"Don't worry England, I'll come for you."
"I'm the hero after all!"
