Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or its characters nor do I own the song
Note: I recommend listening to Curl up and Die by Relient K while reading this or after ^^ it's up to you
Curl Up and Die
He never wanted any of this. Every single one of them knew what could happen to them, it was war after all. But still, he had never wanted this.
I don't like the steps I tookto get to lookinto your deepest feelings
Standing there, watching it all unfold among them, he felt only regret for all of it. War had been inevitable, just like every country has to come to its end at some point; even so, it killed him to look at the battle flags of his fellow countries, his friends.
I don't like the place I'm in,headspace within the hardwood and the ceiling
He wanted the peace to return, for them all to go back to verbally abusing each other, at least that way they weren't killing each other, literally. As much as he hated to admit it, he wanted to run, go wait all this out, but he couldn't. He was the bloody United Kingdom, for God's sake. He would fight for what he believed in, even if it meant he had to die for it.
Cause if I'm restless,then why do I, I want nothing but to rest my soul, and I don't get this and I know why, you see sometimes things are just beyond control
Who was he kidding? Certainly not himself. He had no other choice. Staring across the battlefield at Japan, his friend. Why were they fighting again? He couldn't remember and judging by Japan's face, he was just as reluctant as the Brit about fighting each other. He heard the others clashing in battle, could vaguely make out America's voice in the center of the fight. He moved to go fight with- what was America exactly? His friend? He knew deep down it was more than that. They were far too close for it to be so simple. As he began to march in the chaos at the center, Japan stopped him in a flash.
"England, you will not be getting past me so easily." He stared wide-eyed as the country before him became serious, withdrawing his katana and getting into a battle stance. With that, he withdrew his own sword, bringing back memories of his pirate days. War was inevitable.
But I don't mind, but I'm not surprised to find that you do, I'm not surprised to find that you do, I know you do
Their swords clashed again and again, earning a few cuts and slashes here and there. England would have said he had the advantage, but he knew that he was adequate at swordsmanship at best. It had been years since he had last used one after all. He parried Japan's katana as it swung down, skidding backwards to catch his breath. His breathing was labored and he was starting to sweat from all the exertion his body was being put through. He glared up at his friend who didn't seem to be affected at all. He was exceptional with his weapon, and England assumed he had been training all this time, keeping up with it. If he didn't catch Japan off-guard, he knew he didn't stand a chance. Maybe if he had brought his gun from the Revolutionary War, but that hardly seemed fair. As he stared at his friend, watching the country calculating his every move, going over every action England was capable of, he knew it was over. It had been over before it had begun. He would lose.
And I feel fine, but I know the same does not apply to you, I know the same does not apply to you, so I guess that I'll curl up and die, too.
That thought echoed through him; he would lose. Yes, he would. He knew when he could win a battle, and he couldn't seem to think of any outcome that would result in him being the victor. Even so, that thought didn't upset him. He had been born for this, to fight until the very end, and he would be honored to say he lost to a good friend. Japan would live and he would not. And that was okay. Japan seemed to come to the same conclusion. England raised his sword higher, straightening up with dignity.
"Japan, let's end this, shall we? It was an honor calling you a friend." Japan nodded and raised his katana as well. He had begun to lunge towards his opponent when he heard an agonized cry come from within the raging battle just behind Japan. It was a cry he knew all too well. America. He was instantly filled with dread as that star spangled banner began to waver in its hold; America was losing, if he hadn't already. He stiffened as he heard a thump that seemed to echo around the battlefield, and then he felt excruciating pain. He looked down in shock, seeing Japan's katana imbedded in his side. He dazedly watched the blood ooze out of the wound and looked up at Japan, seeing tears in the country's eyes. He gave Japan a small smile before Japan withdrew his sword, causing him to release a cry of his own as he collapsed onto his knees. He immediately pushed himself up despite all of that. He only had one thought in his brain.America. The hero, his hero.
Clinging to the remnants of perfection, like most do after they break it, not knowing which directions the correct one, do I discard or remake it
He stumbled over bodies, ones he vaguely recognized as his own. There were others too; French, Chinese, Russian, and American soldiers all lay littered on the ground. Just moments ago, some of these people had been alive. It was interesting to think, that he would be joining them shortly, judging by the blood that kept pouring over the fingers covering his wound. He stumbled and stumbled until he found him, lying on the ground, barely breathing. He dropped to his knees; reached a trembling hand out to caress that dirt covered face. It gently stroked through the matted hair that still seemed to shine like gold even in the worst of circumstances. A small smile graced England's trembling lips as he stared at the one he loved but had never told. His eyes travelled down to the wound that was dangerously close to his heart. A bullet hole from a gun he knew too well. So it was Germany then. He felt another wave of regret. Why hadn't they just let everything be? He remembered all the G8 meetings and all the times that everyone had seemed to get along so nicely. He remembered America's bright smile that he had fallen in love with, those blue eyes that seemed capable of anything and everything. America had changed since he had raised him. When they fought in the Revolutionary War, the child he raised died and a new America rose from the ashes. One who he had fallen in love with gradually as time passed. He couldn't blame Germany, Japan, or Italy; he technically couldn't blame anyone for this. They had no one but themselves to blame. Every single country should reflect on this grave mistake. What is war? Why do we need it? Would there ever be peace? He had thought America could achieve that; the country was so set on that goal. Yet here he lay, dying with no work to show for it. War was inevitable. Every country has to come to an end. No! Not America. He should have lived! England slammed a weak fist on the ground. He hadn't stood a chance. Why hadn't he gotten here sooner?! He felt the tears prick the corners of his eyes and spill over.
"Why?!" He cried the words out to no one in particular, maybe because there was no one left worth crying to. He felt a warm hand touch his cheek gently. He turned to look at America, whose eyes were barely staying open.
"England, y-you came…" He felt even more tears spring up.
"O-of course I did, bloody git..." America smiled sadly at him.
"D-don't c-cry, England. I-it's going to be okay, t-trust me..." England nodded as more tears flooded his eyes as he stared at the face that was steadily growing paler, avoiding looking at the blood that continued to pool beneath the blond man.
Cause if I don't know then I don't know, but I may know someone that knows me more than I, and if I somehow could rest this soul, maybe control could find its way back to my life
"E-England. I'm g-glad y-you were the one w-who took me in…" He seemed to notice the blood oozing from England's own wound then and his beautiful blue eyes widened in terror as he tried to sit up. Worry did not become him. He fell backward with a bellow, paling even more from the effort. England watched in terror as the man struggled.
"E-England, y-you're hurt. G-go. Y-you need h-help!" The man exclaimed and he shook his head slowly.
"E-England! G-go now. I-I don't k-know what I-I'd do if y-you-" He cut the blond off.
"America. I love you." America stopped struggling as tears pricked his eyes.
"D-don't say that."
"I love you."
"S-stop! G-go get h-help!" So America knew he was dying then? He must have also known what England was going to do.
"I love you, America! I-I'm not going a-anywhere! Stop o-ordering me around, I m-make my own d-decisions, okay?" His voice cracked as he stared at the man dying in front of him. America nodded reluctantly, although it seemed more difficult.
"I-I love y-you, too."
I don't mind, but I'm not surprised to find that you do, you see I know that I have done all this to you, to you, and I feel fine, but I know the same does not apply to you, yeah, I know the same does not apply to you, so I guess that I'll curl up and die, too
"I-I am s-so sorry, England. I b-brought y-you into t-this…" He barely shook his head again as he felt himself gradually becoming weaker.
"I-I w-would follow y-you anywhere… I-it didn't m-matter…" He was struggling to stay upright, so he gave in, lying down on the blood-soaked dirt next to the man he loved and would always love no matter what happened. He would continue to love him through their last minutes, together. Always together.
Yeah, I'll curl up with you until I die with you, yeah, I'll curl up with you until I die with you, yeah, I'll curl up with you until I die with you, yeah, I'll curl up with you, my baby, yeah, my darlin' until I die with you, yeah, I'll curl up with you until I die with you
England slowly rolled over onto his uninjured left side, looking up at America, only to find he had done the same and rolled onto his right, gazing down on him. England gave a small smile that America returned full heartedly even if it was weak. He reached out and grabbed his love's cold hand, squeezing it with his own.
"I-I'll miss you, England… I-I love y-you. T-too b-bad I never t-told you b-before, h-huh?" They both chuckled as they continued staring at each other. America gave him a smile that made his heart melt, and he was sure he would have blushed if he had any blood to spare. America's eyes began to close slowly.
"No! America, d-don't leave m-me a-alone y-yet… S-stay with m-me, f-forever..." He pleaded but America only opened his eyes a fraction.
"I-I'll never l-leave y-you alone, I-I'll always b-be here, f-forever… Prom..i…se…" The country trailed off, his eyes closing completely now. England felt new tears flood down his cheeks as he looked at his love, who was still smiling, even now.
"A-America?" He squeezed his hand, but no response came. He could barely hold his head up let alone his hand to shake him, and his head hit the ground hard. He lay there as everything seemed to slow down and the only focus he had was on that smile, that smile that still seemed so bright. His vision darkened and his eyes began to slowly close as well, no matter how reluctant he was to say goodbye to his love, his hero. But that goodbye came all too soon as England's eyes fluttered closed and his breathing slowly faded until it stopped altogether.
I'll curl up with you, until I die with you