ok first hetalia fic! i actually wrote this a wile ago but just now put it up... most of it was written on a whim anyways so enjoy! :D
America never was the same after that day.
Mathew let out a long sigh and took a longer swig of his coffee (toped with maple syrup of course.) it was times like this he wondered why he didn't poor vodka in it like Russia…
Canada watched his brother from across the table, said nation had a scowl on his face aimed at the cup of coffee in his hand. (Which, after seeing the other nation dump more than three spoonfuls of sugar into it. he no longer considered coffee.)
No. America wasn't the same, and from the looks of it, would NEVER be the same.
The scar of course, made that fact unforgettable. A deep line running through his left eye, right behind 'Texas'. As his brother, Canada also knew that Alfred had others from that day, a smaller on running up his forearm, and another just above his heart.
But neither where as big or as noticeable as the one on his face. America joked about it sometimes, saying it made him look like 'even more of a kick ass action super hero.' But Canada had his doubts.
He'd seen his brother the day he'd gotten those scars. It still pissed him off to think about, made him angry, sad; his emotions churning and making him feel like a single rickety ship in a vast ocean.
Which was saying something considering he was the world's second largest nation.
Of course Mathew would never admit this, least of all to Alfred.
"I can't believe he's doing this." America continued to scowl at his coffee, betrayal in his eyes.
And so was the issue that had brought them here.
"He's just doing what he thinks is right…" Canada tried to speak reason.
"But it's not right!" Alfred stood abruptly, knocking over his sugar-loaded coffee. "He can't do this! I- we've been through to much to just- just LEAVE!"
"Alfred." Mathew stood as well placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Its over… we won remember?"
"But it's not over!" America glared up at him scowling. "It won't be over until every one of those bastards is dead!"
Canada sighed heavily, he couldn't really argue…. There was a part of him that agreed with the older nation. But…
"A lot of people have died America." He shook his head. "My boss doesn't want to loose any more." And neither do I. he added silently. "Your boss wants to withdraw as well-"
"He'll back down." America scowled. "No way in hell he'd do that to me."
"America-"
"I'm going back to the front." Alfred pushed passed his taller brother and Canada let out a long sigh.
It was pointless to argue with Alfred when he got like this.
No, America was never the same after 9/11.
*Flash back 11 September 2001*
Canada ran a fast as he could through the thick cloud of smoke and ash in the air, filling his lounges and quit nearly causing him to panic.
He had to find America.
He had to find Alfred.
"H-Help!" the shout came from beneath a pile of rubble and Mathew began pulling desperately at the pile. He'd know that voice anywhere, even if the word didn't fit.
The steal support beam was shoved upwards by the force beneath it and Canada knelt by there side, checking for broken ribs and bleeding.
America coughed up blood, pulling himself to a sitting position and pushing his brother off of him. Crimson blood dripping down the side of his face and dropping onto his white shirt. His bomber jacket was gone, only a shred of the leathery fabric still hanging around him.
The nation pulled himself to his feet, pushing Canada off once again when he tried to help him.
"Alfred you need to see a doc-"
"I'm fucking fine Canadia!" under any other circumstance Canada might have corrected him, but this was different. "I'm fucking fine! People are dieing! There fucking dieing! They need help!" his voice was borderline hysteric; none of his usual childish joking or obnoxious laugh there.
He stumbled forward, disappearing into the curtain of smoke, calling out with his booming voice for survivors.
"Alfred!" Canada ran after him, trying to find the other nation, he needed help; he could do this all alone.
But America was gone, and Mathew had to resign himself to searching the ruble for survivors. Tears stinging his eyes every time he found a corps, or worse one beyond saving.
He had lost citizens today as well.
He could feel it.
*flash back 10 October 2001 *
America's face was hard and angry as he stood in front of the other nations, his arm bandaged and gauze covering his left eye, Texas was gone from his face, replaced by a single contact in his right eye that made it look even more blue, and even more determined.
He wasn't wearing a suit, or even his traditional bomber jacket.
Rather he was in uniform, army dress greens with 5 stars on his shoulder, marking him a general.
He usually dressed as a private, or airman or any enlisted rank from any of his branches of military.
He only dressed as a general to declare war.
America didn't look like a nation who'd just lost more than 2,500+ citizens and counting, body's where still being pulled from the rubble, but many believed the number was over 29 hundred dead countless others wounded.
But Alfred had always been good at hiding his pain. Even during the revolution, when he had been little more than 13 colonies banded together to form a barley pubescent nation.
The conference hall was, for once, completely silent, all eyes glued to the blond nation, who looked at that moment to be capable of murder. At one end of the conference table, the Arab nations had huddled together, fearing war for the horrifying deed there own citizens had committed. Fearing even more, the fact that a small part of them reveled in the body count.
"Nations." America's voice was strong and clear; far from the annoying babble that few could even managed to follow. "On September 11th, enemies of freedom committed an act of war against myself and my people."
His eyes scanned the conference room, daggers in his scull. "We have all known wars and we have all known surprise attacks. But Rarely one that kills thousands of innocent civilians." There was a shifting of winces throughout the hall. The world trade center had held many citizens of other nations as well. More than 90 other nations had lost their-own.
"I have seen this now, fist hand. And never before have I been so disgusted with any beings for committing such a crime. Nation or human alike." The arab nations shifted, coming closer together at those words, scared.
America's one good eye seemed to bore into them as he spoke. "Many of you may be asking who it was that committed this atrocity." he paused for breath, to calm his own rising anger rather than his usual attempt at holding others in suspense. "The evidence I have gathered points to a loosely affiliated terrorist cell called al-queada." The arab nations shifted once again and Afghanistan sat bolt upright in his chair.
America's blue eye was locked on his. "They make no distinctions between military or civilians and aim to kill all who stand in their way be they nation, man, woman or child." He continued to star down the Arab nation completely ignoring everyone else in the conference room. "Afghanistan currently reflects al-queada and the Taliban's vision for the world. Many are starving and without home, religion is mandated, a man can be imprisoned because his beard is the wrong length."
He turned his gaze away from the Afghan, once again addressing everyone.
"I respect Afghanistan; I am currently his largest source of humanitarian aid. But I condemn the Taliban regime. By sponsoring terrorists and murderers his leaders are committing murder. I demand that the Taliban delivers to my custody all al-qeada leaders who hide in their lands, release their prisoners, close there terrorist training camps and hand over all known terrorists within there country's of rule." Several other nations shifted, including Iraq and Pakistan.
"These demands are not open to negotiation." America's gaze remained hard. Any who refuse to meet these demands will be met with the same fate as the terrorists themselves. I will not stop until every one of these villains are brought to justice." His gaze broadened to include ever nation in the room, seeming to stare each one of them strait in the eye as he spoke. "Your either with me… or with the terrorists."
He stepped down from the front of the conference room, speaking over his shoulder as he returned to his seat. "I formally declare war on terrorism and any and all organizations or nations who affiliate with the former." The conference room was silent for a long time, all to shocked to speak. Canada stared at his brother as he took a seat next to him, his eyes questioning.
"If we go down this road America-" He spoke softly.
"They attacked first Canada." Mathew was shocked to hear Alfred call him by his proper name. "I will defend my people and my freedom to the grave."
And defend them he would.
Defend them he did.
Mathew dumped the rest of his coffee in the garbage. He didn't feel like drinking it anymore. Maybe Alfred had the right idea. Maybe he should head back to the front, he had children to teach, houses to build, and god only knew if and when his boss' would decide to pull him out.
When they finally did, Canada was sure Afghanistan would be relived. The nation had come to resent him greatly in the years he'd been occupied.
But not as much as he resented America for it.
Though Alfred had tried to 'win over the hearts and minds of the Afghan people' it was a difficult thing to do when the nation itself wanted him out of his house.
With another long sigh Mathew left the coffee shop, headed for the nearest airport and from there, Afghanistan's house.
like i said first hetalia fic... anyway please review ^^ and yes, America's speech was based off of George Bush's (same date to)
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