SO. This is a one-shot for Memorial Day…

Please Enjoy.

Also, this is kind of following the story line of "Of Heart Breaks and Happy Endings" but you don't have to have read that to get this really. Just know that Michelle is Seychelles and Alfred's daughter.

I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. (I've been forgetting to add that. XP)

Without further ado…


Alfred woke up that morning to plentiful sunshine, but a cold, empty bed and a heavy heart.

See, when America woke up that morning, he knew automatically what day it was.

Memorial Day.

It was a day that he, and his nation, set aside every year to support his fallen soldiers.

HIS fallen soldiers. Americans that have died defending their country; him.

Him…..

America was staring at the ceiling when a little girl, six years old, poked her head in through the door.

"Daddy?"

Eyes as blue as the skies met eyes equally as blue.

Alfred tried very hard to make his smile seem real and genuine for his little girl, but she saw right through it.

"Yeah, Chelle?"

Michelle crawled into bed and cuddled right into her father's chest. Alfred held her tightly, perhaps a little too tightly in all of his emotion, but Michelle did not say anything, opting to hug him back.

After a few minutes, Michelle spoke softly, "Daddy? Mommy showed me how to use the coffee maker, so I made coffee…"

Alfred looked down at his daughter and smiled gently, "Alright, baby. Let's get dressed, and then we'll have some. Okay?"

Michelle nodded her head, and hopped down, running for her own room.

Now, that Alfred was alone, he went back to thinking.

He thought of his men and women, he thought of his people and his government.

He thought of the war, and of political turmoil.

He thought of how he couldn't even protect his soldiers, of how utterly useless he felt he was to them.

How he wasn't a hero.

He mechanically put on his clothes and went to the bathroom to wash his face and to brush his teeth.

He stopped at the mirror in his bathroom, because he had found a note from his wife on a post-it.

Al, I'm so sorry that I can't be here for you today. I really really am, but I am needed in Seychelles. Just remember this always: you are my hero and that I love you always. I'll try my hardest to be home tomorrow, maybe tonight if I'm lucky.

Alfred folded the little paper and put it in his pocket, and he continued on with his routine.

When he was finished, he went down the stairs and into the kitchen where he found Michelle trying to pour him a cup of coffee. He stepped up behind her and took the coffee pot, pouring himself a glass.

"Hey! Have you brushed your teeth, Chelle?" he asked his daughter.

Michelle nodded up at him and said, "Yes, Daddy!"

Alfred patted her head and said "That's good. Because-"

Michelle cut him off and exclaimed, "Heroes don't have bad teeth!"

Alfred smiled hollowly, and said, "Yeah. That's right…"

After pouring Michelle a cup of milk, the two sat and drank in silence, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.


A little over an hour later would find them at the gates of Arlington. This was Michelle's first trip to Arlington, and Alfred was determined not to have her get lost. Michelle was by no means disobedient or a troublemaker, but, she was, however, very adventurous and would run off without thinking if she saw something that interested her. So, in order to prevent that, he hoisted her up and put her on his shoulders.

They walked for hours, stopping at a soldier's grave every once in a while. Alfred would always lean down and whisper "Thank you." to each grave he stopped at, and Michelle wondered at how her father wasn't getting in trouble by any of the attendants walking down the paved lanes.

She figured they must have known him by now.

They stopped at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and laid a wreath. Michelle again thought that under any other circumstance they would have been in trouble.

Alfred then took her up to the highest peak of the cemetery and they then looked down at the hundreds of white tombs, each belonging to one fallen soldier.

From somewhere, nowhere, everywhere; Michelle couldn't determine, taps were being played.

She then felt something wet fall and hit her hand. She looked up and saw that the bit of wetness she had felt was really a tear that had fallen from her father's eyes.

She crawled up on his lap and put her small hands on his chest.

"Daddy?"

Alfred opened his eyes, and eyes as blue as the skies met eyes that were equally blue. But this time, Michelle didn't see the usual brightness that usually shone from her father's eyes, but an overwhelming sadness.

She saw one man's sadness, and a whole nation's suffering. One man crying and a whole nation mourning.

She wrapped her arms around her father and let him cry.

His sobs seemed to be in sync with the taps that were still playing. Up and down, up and down, until finally…

Peace.

His sobs had stopped and so had the mysterious taps.

Then, something dawned on Michelle.

She put her little, six year old hands on America's still wet face and held them there.

"Daddy, you are a hero."

Alfred leaned into her touch, but said, "Hon, you don't understand…"

"No," Michelle said fiercely. "I do understand. All of those men and women died serving their country. Their home, their families… their love. They died for you."

America closed his eyes again, and nodded his head. "Yes. They're the heroes, Chelle. Not me."

Michelle shook her head again, "No, Daddy! They died for you! For America! Because America, you, is their hero. They are this country's heroes. And you are theirs."

America stared at his six year old, dumbstruck. Until he hugged his daughter tightly, and for the second time that day, cried.

Michelle didn't know why, but she felt a few tears roll down her cheeks as well as she patted her father's back.

After a while, they pulled apart, both wiping at their tears and smiling at each other.

Alfred picked his daughter up and hoisted her onto his shoulders. "Come on, Chelle, we should be leaving. How do burgers for dinner sound, baby?"

Michelle hugged her father's head and said, "They sound great, Daddy."

On the way back down the hill, they stopped at graves, each saying thank you before going on.

At the gates of Arlington, they could have sworn they heard the taps again. Up and down, up and down, sadness and mourning, then pride and finally peace.

"Thank you, Heroes."


With Michelle in bed, and Alfred alone, he thought.

He thought of his men and women, he thought of his people and his government.

He thought of the war and of political turmoil.

He thought of how he couldn't protect all of soldiers, no matter how much he, as a nation and as a person, wanted to.

He thought of how they enlisted anyway, for their country, their home and for their family.

He thought of the heroics his people, Americans, showed.

And he thought of a brighter tomorrow, because there were real heroes fighting for it.

That night he went to sleep to a cloudless night, a warm and filled bed and a light heart.

Right before he fell asleep, his arms around his wife, he uttered one last time,

"Thank you, Heroes."


Uhm… there isn't much to say about this one. I just really felt that there was a need to respect our fallen soldiers. Not just here in America, but everywhere. I live in a neighborhood where everybody is a veteran or the family of a veteran, so Memorial Day is important to us.

So, thanks to the heroes who have died for their countries. You are truly heroes.

That's about it… feel free to drop a review if you would like…

Have a good Memorial Day.

HippieVampire, out~