A/N: Hello! I'm Aksel and this is my first fanfic in a long time. It's a USUK one-shot, and it's kinda like my child. NINE WORD PAGES. So much work. XD Anyways, enjoy and drop a review if you dig it. Don't like, don't read, by the way.

Disclaimer: Me no Hima-papa. ~sad face~


"Uncle! Uncle Al!" exclaimed a blonde boy from across a crowded airport.

"Jonathan!" I yelled, opening my arms for my sprinting little nephew to land in.

"Johnny! How've you been?" I said, as I caught him and swooped him into a big bear hug.

"You've grown so much! Gonna be a hero like your old uncle?" He laughed at my question as I spun him around and put him back down.

"I missed you, Uncle Al!" he giggled, looking up at me with a toothy grin.

"I missed you too, buddy! Now, where are your dads?" I asked him. He giggled and pointed behind himself, at my little brother and his husband.

I looked to said brother, standing a few feet away from us, watching on with that soft smile of his. I waved him closer and opened my arms for a hug.

"Mattie!" I said, giving him the bone-crushing hug he no doubt expected.

"A-Al! C-Can't... B-Breathe..." he stuttered out. I let him go and ruffled his blond hair, so similar to mine.

"Sorry, bro." I apologised. "You look good. Now, where's your drunken, German husband?" I inquired, looking around and grinning.

"Hey! I'm Prussian, you dick!" a loud, German-accented voice exclaimed from behind my brother.

"Long time, no see, you degenerate bastard!" I yelled at him, grin widening further. He grinned back at me.

"I should say the same to you, fat-ass!" Gilbert yelled back. My brother's albino husband was one of my best friends, so the insulting banter was natural. Mattie just rolled his violet eyes and shook his head at us.

"You two never change." he said, smiling fondly.


"Hey, little buddy. It's 9:00, you should be heading to bed." I heard Gilbert say from the couch. Mattie was on his lap, smiling at the scene in front him. I was sitting on the floor next to Johnny, playing superhero with him and his action figures.

"Awww! I don't want to go, Vatti! Can't I stay up a little longer?" Johnny whined, with a pout on his cute little face.

"Sorry, honey. It's bedtime for you." Matt said, smiling wider at his son's pouting face.

"How about you ask your Uncle Al to tell you a bedtime story?" Mattie suggested, giving me a look.

I caught the hint. "Yeah! I'll tell you a heroic bedtime story!" I exclaimed, flashing Johnny a super-hero pose and a wink. He giggled at me, and jumped up.

"Alright!" he exclaimed. "Goodnight Papa! Goodnight Vatti!" he yelled as he grabbed my hand and started to drag me to the room he'd be staying in. "C'mon Uncle Al! You gotta tell me a good one!" he said, running ahead of me.

"Alright, alright!" I laughed. "You gotta wait for me, though!"


"Okay, buddy. What do you want this story to be about?" I asked my little nephew, who was dressed in super-hero pajamas (that I was quite proud of), and tucked into bed.

"One about..." he started, a thinking look upon his face. He blushed a little bit, as if remembering something he shouldn't have.

"One about an angel. Papa mentioned something about you and angels the other day!" he said, excitement widening his bright eyes.

My own eyes widened in shock. Angels?

"Alright, buddy. I've got a good story about angels for you." I said, settling on the edge of his bed.


"There once was a young man, who wanted nothing more from life, than to be someone's hero." I had started my story, when my nephew interrupted me.

"What did this hero look like? What was his name?" he asked, bouncing up and down in his eagerness.

I laughed at his antics and placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping his bouncing.

"Well," I began. "He was pretty tall for his age, which was probably around 17, and blond. His hair was always messy, and a little piece of it always stuck up on the top of his head. He-"

He interrupted me, again. "Kinda like yours, Uncle Al!" he said, giggling.

I laughed again. "Yeah! Like mine!" I exclaimed. "But, you gotta stop interrupting me, bud. Or we'll never finish this story!" I told him, grinning.

"Oh! Okay." he said, quieting down. "Sorry Uncle!"

I chuckled, and started my story again.

"Let's see... Oh! He had blue eyes, the colour of sapphires and he always wore glasses. He had tanned skin and always wore a jacket, with the number 50 on the back. And his name was... Alfred. Like me!" I said, finishing up my description. Jonathan just grinned in anticipation, so I went on with the story.


"He was a young man, as I said before, therefore he liked to jump into things without thinking first.

Well, one day his father told him that he was sick of his dangerous recklessness, so the young man was sent away. But, he had nowhere to go. He didn't have many good friends and he obviously didn't have a house of his own. But, there was one place he knew that would give him some peace. He immediately headed towards the forest on the edge of his town. For inside the forest was a meadow with a creek that cut through it, and a small stream that flowed through the creek. This meadow was sacred to the young man. So sacred, not even his beloved little brother knew about it. That place was his, and his alone."

"When he had neared his meadow that day, he knew right away that something was wrong. As he crept towards the opening to his secret place, he saw something he never expected, let alone thought existed. He saw an angel."

My nephew looked at me and cleared his throat.

"Wait, Uncle Al." he said. "What did the angel look like?" he asked, a curious look adorning his face.

"Well," I started, clearing my own throat. "He was short, for one. He was just a few inches shorter than your Papa. He had blond hair, too. Although it was a few shades lighter than Alfred's, and even messier. He had big, vibrant green eyes, and some pretty huge eyebrows. But, they fit him, somehow. He was much paler than Alfred, almost as if he had barely seen the light of day, and had big, white wings on his back. He wore a white toga that reached his knees, and brown sandals that reached just below said knees. He was...very, very beautiful." I finished, looking away with a slight blush.

My little nephew just giggled again.

"My Vatti calls Papa beautiful all the time! Don't be embarrassed," he told me. "Boys can be beautiful, too!" he gave me a brilliant grin as he said this, probably noticing the blush on my face.

"Yes, well." I said, a little awkwardly. "On with the story."

"This angel was probably the most beautiful thing the young man had ever seen, despite the angel being a man as well. He held an otherworldly quality, one that Alfred had never experienced in his life. He was so absorbed in staring at this creature, that he didn't even notice the angel staring back, shock in his emerald eyes. As soon as Alfred noticed, he quickly cleared his throat and began to speak.

'He-Hello.' he began. 'I'm Alfred F. Jones. W-Who... Who are you?' he stuttered out, still staring into the angel's eyes."

"The angel was poised in the air, just a few feet off of the ground. He looked as if he was about to lower himself to drink from the stream. Instead, the angel slowly floated to the ground, but made no move to walk towards Alfred. He faced the young man and, in a voice unlike any other, he spoke."

"'I am Britannia. Angel of Heaven, and servant of God.'" his voice sounded like the most beautiful music. It was soft and tinkling, but it commanded respect. Truly, a voice no human could compare to. He sounded British, too. He had a proper London accent." I chuckled at my statement and started again.

"The young man marveled at the voice of this angel, barely registering the words in his own mind.

'I-Is there anything e-else I can call you?' the young man asked. 'Any...shorter name, perhaps?' he felt himself go red with embarrassment at the question. He hadn't meant to ask something so stupid, but he couldn't stop himself."

"The angel just laughed, another beautiful sound, and began to speak again.

'You may call me Arthur.' was all he said.

'O-Okay then, A-Arthur.' Alfred said, a small grin forming on his face. He soon thought of another question for Arthur.

'May I ask,' he began, grabbing the angel's full attention. 'What are you doing here on Earth? And in this meadow, no less.' Alfred asked, taking a step closer to Arthur."

"The angel, once again, looked surprised at the question. He took a step closer to Alfred and stopped. He looked thoughtful for a moment, placing a finger to his lips and tilting his head to the side. He spoke again.

'I was sent by Him to fulfill my mission.' he began, placing his now-idled hands on his hips. 'I am to find a young man, and give him guidance. I was told this is where he would most likely be.' Arthur finished, looking at Alfred curiously."

"Alfred just stared, absorbing the angel's words. Then, he spoke again.

'Are you, by any chance, the young man in need of guidance?' he asked, tilting his head and taking another step in Alfred's direction.

Alfred now understood the angel's purpose. Arthur must have known about his problems, and come to tell him what he needed to do to fix them!

'I-I think so.' he stated cautiously. 'I think I'm the only one who even knows about this place, and I do come here often. Not to mention,' he paused. 'I have been having a few problems.' he finished, looking shyly at Arthur."

"Arthur regarded the young man in front of him. He seemed to be telling the truth, and he also seemed to be carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders. He looked tired and defeated, and even a little heart-broken. He took a few slow steps towards Alfred, until he was only a foot or two away from him.

'What seems to be the matter?' Arthur asked the man. There was an uncomfortable pause before Alfred opened his mouth and spoke.

'I-I am a disgrace.' he began, biting his lip and looking away from Arthur.

'I am a burden to my family and a disgrace to our name. I can't do anything right, and I'm constantly getting myself into trouble. I can't even get a decent job. My academics are far from acceptable, and my attitude is so poor. I don't know how to think before I act. I don't know what to do with myself anymore. My parents and my little brother can't stand the sight of me. I can't even stand the sight of me.' Alfred explained, tears welling up in his big, blue eyes.

He spoke again, with such heartbreak in his voice, that it hurt the angel to listen. 'All I want,' he whispered. 'Is to be someone's hero. But how can I save someone else, if I can't save myself?'"

"The young man collapsed onto the grass, breaking out into heart-wrenching sobs. The angel now knew that this man was the one he was looking for.

Arthur dropped down onto the grass, and enveloped Alfred's sobbing body in his arms. He pulled the young man's head into his lap, and waited. He waited for the sobs to stop, so that he could speak to Alfred."

"Eventually, the sobbing subsided and Alfred picked himself out of Arthur's lap, looking embarrassed."

"'A-Ah! Sorry, man!' Alfred stuttered, scrambling away from Arthur.

'It is all right. I know now that you are who I was sent to guide, and I shall do so without fail. You are fine.' Arthur explained calmly, beckoning Alfred back towards himself.

Alfred slowly moved back towards the angel, looking unsure. The angel laughed at the man and looked him in the eyes, before his face grew serious.

'You must change.' he began. 'That is the only way you will ever be able to move on with your life. You are young, but what you do now will decide the path of your entire life.' the angel explained, still staring into the young man's eyes.

'Change is life, and life is precious. Do not waste your years dwelling on what you have already done. Look to better yourself. You do not have to be your own hero. In fact, maybe, just maybe...' he stated, smiling as he finished his sentence.

'Maybe the person you will save, will be your hero.'"

"Alfred was shocked by the angel's words. Someone else could save him? Alfred had always thought that he was strong enough to do everything on his own. He always had so much expected of him, and when it became too much, he rebelled and lost himself. He became everything he didn't want to be. Maybe a little help wasn't a bad thing. Maybe... Maybe needing help isn't weak. It's healthy.

'Arthur...' Alfred said, drawing himself nearer to the angel. 'Thank you.'

Now, it was Arthur's turn to look shocked. He had never been thanked before.

'You are welcome...Alfred. I was sent to guide you, and I have done as I was told to do.' he said, smiling again."

"The angel stood up and began to rise into the air slowly, his wings fluttering. Arthur had turned around and was poises to fly off. Alfred then realised that he did not want Arthur to leave without showing him how grateful he truly was. He came up with an idea in that moment.

'Wait! Wait, Arthur! I want to tell you something!' Alfred called. The angel turned as the young man walked briskly towards him, getting very close to the angel's face."

"Alfred reached his hands out and touched Arthur's face, before he pressed his lips to the angel's, kissing him.

The kiss was soft and intimate, a thank you. It was not demanding or desperate. Alfred simply wished to convey his gratitude. The angel slowly pulled away when Alfred was done, and reached out with one hand to caress the young man's face, before he took flight for the heavens."

"Alfred would never forget the angel, or the kiss they shared. As he walked out of the forest later that day, he sent a prayer to God, asking that Arthur never forget him, either. And that someday, when he passed on he would find Arthur again, waiting in heaven." I finished. I looked to my little nephew, who was fast asleep with a little smile on his face. I smiled to myself as I leaned over and pecked him on the forehead.

"Night, buddy." was all I said, as I gathered myself and got up from his bed.


I stepped out of the room and closed the door, only to almost run straight into my little brother.

"Ah! Sorry bro, didn't see you there." I apologised, scratching the back of my neck nervously. He had obviously been waiting for me.

"How long has it been, Alfred?" was all he asked me, violet eyes swimming with sadness as he looked at me.

"Almost seventeen years." I choked out, looking away as the tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. "And it still tears me apart, everyday."

I turned on my heel and headed towards my own bedroom. I shut the door behind me and flopped onto my bed, crawling under the covers once I landed. I looked to the bedside table on my left, at the picture I kept there.

"Seventeen years, Arthur. I miss you so much." I whispered, gazing at the shorter man in the picture while the tears poured, hot and steady, down my face. I plucked the frame from its place on the table. The angel from my story and myself stood side-by-side, staring at the camera, my arm around him and my lips on his cheek. He had a huge blush and a tiny, rare smile on his gorgeous face. My tears started to pool onto the picture frame, and I hugged it to my chest as I closed my eyes.

Why did God have to take my Hero?


A/N: Thanks again! Reviews are my fuel. ~many hearts~