Author's note: This is intended to show Arthur and Alfred as brothers only, but I suppose if you stand on one leg, turn your head, and squint really hard you can see it romantically. Warnings: swearing (one f-bomb), and sadness? I guess...not much to warn for here. Human names used.

Historical note: Set during the American Civil War (1861-1865), and more specifically the Battle of Gettysburg (July 1-July 3, 1863), hence the title. As I understand it, England was officially neutral in the Civil War, but unofficially offered help to both sides, though many in the higher levels of society favored the Confederacy. The Cousin's War, more popularly known as the War of the Roses, was fought during the 1400s between the Houses of Lancaster and York for the throne of England.

Please enjoy and review!

July 2nd, 1863

Arthur shifted nervously outside the door to Alfred's room, straightening his shirt for the third time before he finally worked up the courage to knock.

"Who is it?" Alfred groaned from within. Arthur winced. He knew the other was in bad shape because of a battle that had been going on for two days now; he'd debated not bothering the young nation, but it felt important to see his former colony after everything that had happened recently.

"Eng— ah—Arthur, it's Arthur," there was silence for a moment, "May I come in?"

Arthur barely heard the whispered "Sure," from the other side of the door. Cautiously he opened the large door and stepped into the darkened room. Looking around, he immediately noticed that the decorations and furniture were all much newer and nicer than anything Alfred had had before. He felt a pang in his chest at the sensation of not belonging. His eyes finally found Alfred curled up on his bed. The blue eyes that looked up at him from across the room were dull, but a small smile pulled at the corner of the younger's mouth.

"Hi," Alfred muttered.

"H-Hello, Alfred" Arthur responded awkwardly. There was quiet as they stared at each other, neither sure of what to do. This was the first time they'd really seen each other since Alfred's revolution, Arthur had avoided him like the plague during the War of 1812. Arthur fiddled with his hands behind his back. "Sorry, I know this isn't a good time for you, I shouldn't have come…"

"No," Alfred said quickly, surprising Arthur when he sat up a little in bed. "It's fine. Please stay, I'd love some company." Arthur nodded, a little struck by the sound of Alfred's accent, it had changed more than he'd expected. Alfred patted the bed happily for Arthur to sit down, still looking at him with his wide blue eyes. Arthur sighed a little; Alfred still looked so young, only about sixteen or seventeen. He had thought the other would have aged a little more; it had been almost eighty years after all. A glint of light caught Arthur's attention out of the corner of his eye, and he noticed a pair of glasses sitting on the end table.

"When did you get glasses?" he asked the younger, who was settling himself back down on the bed. Alfred followed Arthur's gaze before replying.

"Back in '45, when I got Texas," Arthur was confused by the sad tone in Alfred's voice, until he remembered that Texas was one of the states that had seceded to become part of the Confederacy.

"Oh," he said lamely. There was another awkward silence as Arthur tried to think of something to say. The typical pleasantries weren't really an option; one look at Alfred could answer the question 'how have you been?' Arthur's heart ached for his former little brother; he knew how it felt to go through a rebellion like this.

"Arthur," Alfred said quietly, "why're you here?" It sounded almost like an accusation.

"I just…" Arthur trailed off, unsure of how to phrase what he wanted to say. "I just wanted to…to see how you were faring. I know the past few years have been difficult for you."

"Difficult…" Alfred repeated wryly, "that's one word for it." Arthur winced. He knew that 'difficult' didn't begin to describe the horrific feeling of having your country at war with itself.

"Sorry, bad word choice…" Arthur muttered. He took a deep breath, preparing to continue. "Alfred," blue eyes met green in anticipation, "I-I wanted to say I'm sorry for not helping you more, I wanted to, but…"

"Your government, right?" Alfred finished for him. Relief filled Arthur when it seemed that the teenager understood.

"Bureaucrats and noblemen," he sighed running a hand through his hair. "They can be awful sometimes."

"I know what you mean," Alfred said with a weak smile. "Well, about the bureaucrats anyway. Haven't had much experience with noblemen lately.

Arthur smiled too, "You're probably better off for it, one's bad enough." Alfred's chuckle was cut off when he suddenly gasped and doubled over, his arms around his stomach. Arthur's old habits kicked in at the sight of the younger in pain, reaching for Alfred without hesitation. One hand came to rest on his back, the other gently carding through his hair. "What's the matter, Al?"

"They're fighting," Alfred managed. "In Gettysburg—it's getting really bad."

"Ah yes, your president told me when I got here," Arthur remembered. Alfred gasped again, his body shaking. Arthur reacted immediately. "Shh, shh, it's okay Al, I know it hurts—"

"Oh God, shut up!" Alfred cried out. Arthur was surprised, he knew that pain could do strange things to people, but he wasn't quite prepared for the tirade that followed. "You don't know what it's like! I feel like I'm being ripped in half! I am being ripped in half! I hurt everywhere and it won't fucking stop!" Alfred turned violently away from his former caretaker, sobbing into his pillow. Arthur sighed, waiting quietly while Alfred had a moment for himself. Eventually, the teenager quieted a bit. Maybe the battle had come to a lull. Carefully, Arthur placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder. The other stiffened, but didn't pull away.

"You're not the only one who's ever been through a civil war, Alfred," he began, "I do know what it feels like and I'm sorry you have to experience it."

The younger stared at the wall, not wanting to look at Arthur when his eyes were still wet with tears. "I know." Alfred mumbled. "I remember you telling me about the Cousin's War when I was little, I know it was really hard for you."

Arthur gave a dry laugh his memories pulling him back momentarily. "I could barely tell up from down back then. I almost forgot who I was. Everything was constantly in a state of confusion. I didn't know who to trust." Arthur stopped himself before he fell completely into the past, refocusing on the teenager in front of him, who had begun to tremble again. He gripped Alfred's shoulder a little tighter. "At least you know what side to fight for, and you have a strong leader you can get you through this. I'm sure you'll be fine in the end."

Out of nowhere Alfred suddenly shot up and hugged Arthur, wrapping his arms tightly around the older man's neck. "I'm really sorry I yelled at you." Alfred sobbed into the other's chest. "I know you're just trying to be kind to me."

"It's alright," Arthur managed, putting his arms around the teenager. When Alfred had first hugged him he hadn't known what to do, it had been so long since the other had shown him affection. They stayed that way for a while before Alfred stopped crying again. Arthur didn't mind, it was what the other needed, and probably what he'd been denied. When you're a nation incarnate, no one wants to see you cry, they just want you to look strong. But Alfred didn't need to be treated like a nation right now; he needed to be treated like a teenager experiencing a tragedy.

"A-Arthur," Alfred choked out quietly, "did it hurt when…"

Arthur pulled back to look into a tear-stained face, "Did it hurt when what?" He thought he knew what was coming but he really hoped he was wrong. Alfred wiped his eyes.

"Did it hurt when I left you?" Arthur sighed, he had been right. He dropped his hands and Alfred began talking frantically. "I-I've actually wondered that for a while, since that day when I saw you start crying. But that scared me, and I didn't want to think about it, but then all of this happened with my states rebelling against me, and it hurt so much, and I started to wonder again if it had hurt when I rebelled against you…"

Alfred's voice got smaller as he neared the end of his speech, watching Arthur with wide eyes that were watering anew. Arthur had swallowed a wince when Alfred mentioned that day when he broke down on the battlefield. That was not one of his high points (one of his lowest, actually). He turned away from Alfred, closing his eyes as he allowed himself to remember.

"Yes, it hurt." He said levelly. "It hurt a lot. I was losing part of my empire, after all."

There was silence for a long time. Unsurprisingly, it was Alfred who spoke first. "I thought so," he said. "Arthur," Arthur looked up at the sound of his name, and found that Alfred was staring right at him. "I'm not sorry I became independent, but I am sorry that it hurt you."

Arthur was stunned silent for a moment. He'd never thought he'd hear the American say that. "Thank you, Alfred. That means a lot to me," He looked away, tripping over words as they rushed out, "But you shouldn't be sorry at all. You just did what was best for your country. Any one of us would have done the same."

Alfred sighed, and gave a little laugh. "You know, I wouldn't think less of you if you just accepted my apology, but thanks, Arthur. That means a lot to me." The elder chuckled at Alfred's repetition of his words. The two made eye contact and smiled. Arthur could see how tired the other was, and felt a little bit guilty for keeping him awake.

"I should go," he said, standing up. "You need to rest." He turned to his former charge, who nodded and reached up towards him for a hug. Arthur chuckled at the childlike behavior, but granted the silent request.

"Please don't leave me for another eighty years," Alfred said against Arthur's ear. "I may not be your colony anymore, but as nations, and people, we can still see each other, right?"

"I would like that," Arthur said as he pulled away, smiling. Alfred smiled in return, and settled himself back down on the bed. Reluctantly, Arthur turned and walked towards the door, but paused just before he left. He felt like he should say something more. Turning, he saw Alfred's eyes still watching him. "Feel better, Alfred. I'll see you on the other side of this." He managed.

Alfred grinned, knowing his former brother meant well, "Thanks, Arthur." With that the other nodded and left. Alfred closed his eyes, intent on getting some sleep before the fighting started again, calming himself with the knowledge that at least when everything was over, he would be able to see Arthur again.