A/N" Well Hello Folks, I'm back! I was going to post this on President's Day, because, well, this is about that. But I ended up being lazy and waiting till now. As always, I manage to turn everything into USUK. But anyway... President's Day is actually Washington's Birthday. If you don't know who that was, it was the man who kicked us British arses out of the new world D: Anyway, I just made a headcanon that George Washington told America to pursue his feelings with England. Oh, I also suspect him of creating the American Dream in my Hetalia headcanons (but what do I know). Also, this is kind of odd, because I compared olde Washington to a woman. (whut? I don't even know). Well this Author's Note is becoming embarrassingly long, so I am going to leave now. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own Hetalia. (sigh...)

"George Washington was like a mother to me." America states this blankly, looking away.

England raises an eyebrow and turns his head sideways. "A mother?"

America shrugs, as if he has said something normal. "Yeah, you heard me right."

"Well," England shrugs back, already dismissing his statement as typical of his stupidity.

"Don't you wonder why I didn't say father?"

England laughs, a single bark. "I will never cease to wonder about you."

America turns to him now, his brow slightly furrowed and his lips turned into a soft pout. "You're not nice."

England turns his head back to where it was, enjoying the rustle of the grass under him. He looks up at the sky. "Then why. Indulge me."

"He raised me. He helped me understand my feelings; my desires. I became who I am because of him."

England laughs again. The sound is shriller and forced. "Isn't that what I did?"

"No you made me confused. You broke me apart and he put the pieces back together." America bites his lip, and avoids looking him in the eye.

The wind comes sweeping out of nowhere, pushing the grass sideways. England watches. "I'm sensitive about that, you know."

This time it is America who laughs. "So am I, stupid."

"That's my line you insufferable git."

"Well," America is smiling now, a slight upturn of his mouth. "At least you can say you've taught me something."

England rolls his eyes, and tries to scowl. But he can't keep the glint of contented amusement out of his eyes. "But really, I am interested now. Couldn't a father have taught you the same?"

Now America's smile is more pronounced and it strains against his cheeks, threatening to break into a grin. "Naw, you don't understand. Only a mother could badger me into admitting my feelings like that."

England raises both eyebrows now. "Oh, and what feelings are these?"

America's grin wins now, and it has spread fully across his face. He leans over, the grass rustling, and presses a chaste kiss onto England's forehead.

"He told me to look at the stars, England." His grin dissipates suddenly, and now he looks serious, so serious. England pays attention, enraptured. "He was the first person who understood who I loved."

"Who?" The once great Empire looks so small now, trapped between the grass and the sky, between the painful memories and the bright future as he whispers out that one word. So broken as he speaks.

America leans forward so that their foreheads are pressed as they lay sideways, on the grass. "You."

They stay like that for a while more. For hours. Before it gets too cold and they are too tired, and America picks up England and carries him back home.

He pauses and looks up at the stars once more before he goes inside. He breathes the fresh air in, and smiles. "Thank you for everything. I miss you."