[A/N: Yet again, another AmeBel fanfiction from me.

After the 911 attacks, as officially stated by the American Intelligence itself, the country Belarus was pointed as Saddam's "safe-haven" after terrorizing the US. From this fact right here, emerged my third AmeBel fanfic in which I would like to put under the genre of tragedy. Hopefully, it would elicit a tear from one of my readers or two.

I believe that's the only issue you should be informed about. No need to run over the details. Just remember that US accused Minsk/Belarus to be associated with the bombing. That is all.

One last thing. This story may be a one shot, or multi-chaptered. I still havent decided yet but do keep subscriptions if you'd like. Thanks! Read and review!]

Photo Cover belongs to its rightful owner.
I do not own anything except the story.

Song reference:
Vindicated - Dashboard Confessionals

Title: Vindicated

Chapter: 01. The Sweetest Downfall

Fandom: Hetalia

Pairing: AmeBel (America x Belarus)

Genre: Tragedy, Romance

Rating: R-T or R-13 for violence, and profanities.

In all our wrongs,
I want to write him,
in a time where
I can find him.

Before the tears
that tore us.

When our history was
before us.

Time Travelers; Lang Leav

A cold sweat rolled across Alfred Jones' forehead. His heartbeat on overdrive as his fingernails dug through the metals of his pistol. His whole body shaking under the deathly glare of a certain beauty with a knife at hand. Not because he fears her. But because of his rage and turbulence.

"Put the gun down." Her voice was hoarse but demanding, arm unsteadily pointing her blade in return. "Put it down, Alfred." A lump in her throat began to form, lightly choking her as she held her breath.
The tenderness and usual brightness of his blue pools were absent. Instead, nothing was found but his blank stare drenched in disappointment and choler. Dashing hopes that seem to reach down the core of her icy self and shatter it all together.
He clenched his jaws in anger; blocking every words coming out of her sweet lips.
It destroyed him, acting this way. But if he would not, then who will? All those mourning and grieving. All those lives lost. He needed to be strong. For justice. For them.

A harsh cold wind accompanied by few fallen leaves danced along the two, sending shivers down their spines. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, blocking the sun. Every single leaf withered from its branch, leaving the trees naked and exposed to the harsh chill. It was late November, and autumn's about to be replaced by the frost of winter in a matter of time.

"How could you?" Alfred cried, eyes starting to get misty as he glowered at her hazy figure. "Natalya. I always knew you were cold, but I never believed you were heartless."
He could sense the dame flinch, but her features remained distant nonetheless. The platinum blonde made no response, which signaled the American to continue.
"I thought you've changed, huh? What are your reasons to do it? What suddenly poisoned your mind? You're even worse than your brother!"
"DONT! Don't even go that far!" She gasped, slowly losing her firm composure.
"Why? You still love him more, don't you? Enough for you to kill all of my people for his sake!"
"I did not-!" Noticing that she has raised her voice, the Belorussian did her hardest to calm down and still remain her knife sharp and pointed. "… I did not… kill them."
This only deepened the American's state to swim against the current. His heart wanted to listen, but his brain blocked her out. He knew well he couldn't follow his heart, after all that happened. His heart was stupid as fuck.
"Whatever have I done to upset you to go that length? I want to trust you. I really want to, Natalya. But why are you making this so hard for me?"
'It's because you don't. Not anymore.' She thought. Pain and betrayal seeping through the cracks of her bones.

The younger Belarusian could well remember the days when they first met at that exact moment.

The day when a dirty-blonde haired boy with a cowlick stubbornly sticking out of his part stepped in the scene and challenged her own brother. His set of baby blue eyes are the brightest she has ever witnessed; even brighter than the sky she owned itself. Warm and mesmerizing.
However, Natalya was not a fool.
These cerulean orbs would never be enough for her not to detest him. She have fought and rooted alongside Ivan. Oh, how hard did they try. But in the end, all their efforts seems to go down the drain when America deemed himself victorious.

The White Ruthenia, otherwise known as the country of Belarus, was left broken and devastated. Natalya could hardly get on her knees. Standing on the edge of life, feigning death with all her might. Days and nights haunted her with the ever creeping end that was bound to happen. She braced herself for this, she really did.
But like the hero in the movies the boy proclaims himself to be, Alfred extended his hand and saved the damsel in distress. Even taking her under his wings without asking anything in return.

The blonde man has shown her nothing but kindness and affection since then.

'What happened?'

"You don't trust me anymore. I completely get that." She bit her bottom lip in attempt to hide her sorrow. "And I don't blame you."
"Why did you have to do it?" His arm holding up the arsenal trembled, but never ceased to lose sight of its target. "We wouldn't be caught in this whole damned situation if you did not."
"But I didn't." Natalya kept her eyes locked perfectly on his, piercing and cold as usual. Keeping up with this game of blames.
"Don't lie." Raspy voice chimed. "I have my proof. I just could not believe that after all we've –"
"And what proof is that?" She challenged, cutting him off.
"My intelligence proved the booked flights from Baghdad to Minsk. Your capital, Belarus. You worked with them, did you not?"

Breaths were held and time stood still. Alfred waited.
He waited for her words - rational explanations saying it wasn't her, that she was never associated with this. Anything that would convince him otherwise and cancel all these cases with Natalya. He wanted to keep her. More than anything in this world.

"I…" Her rosy lips were agape, finding the right things to say as Alfred braced himself. "I don't know what to say."

The world crumbled under the boy's footing, hearing the words he never anticipated. Tears swelled between his eyes as he stared at her in surprise.
No. After all they have been through, she simply couldn't.

"Again, you no longer trust me, do you? What else could a person defend herself with if the other would never believe anything that she would say." A smirk playfully etched her lips. "That pains me more than anything. I know it shouldn't, but it did."
"That trust could have been sustained if it was not broken in the first place, Natalya."
"Yes. It was indeed broken." She nodded in agreement before finally letting go of her knife and pinning her arm to her side in surrender. 'And you're stuck with your duties playing the part of the hero. While I was condemned as the evil witch I usually am.' She thought to herself, returning Alfred's gaze with a rather softer one. "Do it."
The American could feel his lungs reject air as his whole body trembled. "Natalya…" He sobbed, feeling the loss of his bones for he couldn't bring himself towards killing her.
"How c-could you… I fucking loved you, god dammit!"
His words hit her like a train, leaving her core bruised and battered. She knew about this, but to hear the words from him now when they have reached the end seems to hurt in a different level. "Do it, Alfred. Do what is right. If you wont, then who will? You're the hero, I'm the villain. The good will defeat the bad. That's how the story goes, right?"
"Natalya, I-!"
"Alfred!" She screeched. 'Don't make this any harder for me than it is for you.'
The man stared in disbelief. He never imagined their story would come down to this.
"Alfred, I killed all those people. And you are tasked by your own congress to take me down, are you not? Follow their orders and get over it."
The boy watched her façade from its usual expressionless self to the broken look she now donned. He hated her for admitting such crime, but resents himself even more for letting her go. It was simply tearing the poor lad's sanity apart. "But there has to be other w—"
"AMERIKA!" She cried in her thick Russian accent that sent chills down the other's spine.

For a moment or two, he watched her – knowing this might be the edge of the cliff. He memorized every inch of her beautiful face. Her silky platinum locks, and the loose ribbon tied on top of her head. The livid skin of hers that seems to blush rather quickly. The fullness of her rose-hued lips and the sweet intoxication they brought. Twilight eyes that seems cold and sharp at first, but softens with affection whenever she looked up to meet his azure orbs.

The lone features that never failed to take his breath away. She was, afterall, his fallen angel. His sweetest downfall.

But as a country, duties and obligations always came before all else.

"I loved you." He whispered just enough for her to hear. "And I always will."
Natalya nodded in return, tears rolling down her cheeks. She was saved by him once, and now the light of her candle would appear to burn out under his own hands. It seems like a pretty good deal for the lass as of now. For him to own her life, more than anything else.

How he wanted to kiss those tears goodbye and wrap his arms around her, telling her it will all be alright and whisper sweet nothings until she would drop her eyelids and sleep within his protection like he used to.

But, all good things come to an end.

Natalya opened her mouth to speak, but it was far too late when Alfred pulled the trigger. The echoing explosion overrunning her voice as the bullet travelled in a speed of light.

Everything flashed before his eyes. The Belarusian's body dropping into the ground as a pool of crimson liquid formed around her.
The metallic armada bounced on the ground with an echoing sound, as the American dropped to his knees with eyes wide open and trembling hands.
"N-no…" He choked out, losing his last string of sanity.

Across the field, muffled screams of a man was heard as the clouds finally let out drops of snow from overhead. The first day of winter has come; to dry out the blood spilt on the ground that bitter day.