Unknown Soldier, My Hero

Author's Note: Believe it or not, this oneshot has taken form over the span of a couple of months before I've now published it. The inspiration for me to write this tragic ReaderXAmerica (Alfred F. Jones) oneshot not only came from the songs "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry and "Unknown Soldier" by Breaking Benjamin, but also from the sorrowful stories I've heard of young soldiers that never come home. Mortality is a rather dark topic to talk about in the Hetalia fandom, but I don't doubt that the nations have felt that sorrow of seeing their young countrymen die for their expense. America, however, is a significantly younger nation that probably hasn't felt that same pain as much as the more elder countries. Now, add to that situation, a young American girl who's at the end of her rope at home and decides to join the army to make ends meet. Enjoy.

*[f/n]=your first name

*[l/n]=your last name

[f/n] sighed as she held the pink slip in her hand, practically dragging herself up to her apartment.

"Ugh, at least I can get some peace and quiet at home now-," her jaw practically dropped at the eviction notice on her front door:

"To Ms. [f/n] [l/n],

For the past 4 months you haven't secured your rent. Please vacate the premises within 48 hours unless you can send in all of your missed payments. Interest, taxes, and late fees will apply to your debt.

Sincerely,
Management"

Ah, at least it was short and sweet, right?... [f/n] angrily crumpled up the notice, threw it on the floor, and stomped on the poor piece of paper.

"I told that idiot landlord that I'll have it by the end of the week!," she grumbled, but then realized that it was pointless to bother reasoning with the management: she was fresh out of a job, just how was she going to cough up so much money now?

Sighing, [f/n] just unlocked her door and packed the very little she even had in that apartment.

After gathering her things, [f/n] took her sweet time down the elevator to the lobby floor. Taking out her cell phone, she dialed her good friend Alfred's number. Perhaps he could let her crash at his place for a while…

Ring…ring…ri-

"Yo [f/n]!," Alfred greeted.

"H-Hi!," she stammered a little in reply. "Say, Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think that you can let me stay over for a while?-"

"You mean like a sleepover?," he beamed, obviously excited to have [f/n] over.

"Sort of, yeah-"

"I'll be right over!," Alfred abruptly hung up.

The sound of screeching wheels outside signaled [f/n] that Alfred was there. Beeping the horn loud enough for the whole block to hear, she rushed outside with her bags, but only to be greeted with a deathly tight hug from Alfred.

"Hey! What's up?," he asked, finally breaking off the hug.

"I'm fine, but thanks for having me over on such short notice.," [f/n] said.

"No problem! Say, let me help you with those.," Alfred then picked up the huge, heavy bags and threw them in the trunk. Opening the car door he then said, "Alright, now get in!"

[f/n] sighed, Alfred was such a good friend…not only did he decide to take her in…he did it without asking questions. Being the nosy American he is, [f/n] expected him to go cursing like hell to her landlord once he figured out that she was kicked out. Honestly, she was bringing everything she had to his house, doesn't that ring: "Hey, I'm out of a job and home, please help me!"?

…Well…[f/n] also had to remember that Alfred is almost as oblivious as he is nosy.

"O.K.! You can stay here in the guest room.," Alfred gestured towards the nicely kept room. Seriously, it was too good to be a guest room. "Mine is right across from yours, too!"

After setting down her stuff, [f/n] turned to Alfred, "Hey…don't think that I'm being ungrateful or anything…but…"

"But what?," Alfred asked, looking a bit worried at [f/n]'s rather serious tone. "What's wrong?"

"Here." [f/n] shoved the pink slip she got today in Alfred's face. "They laid me off today at work today, said that they needed to cut expenses or something…"

Alfred's smile ran away from his face as he laid eyes on that dreaded piece of paper.

"Oh…really?...," Alfred's gaze was fixed on the ground. "[f/n]…"

[f/n] bit her bottom lip, feeling guilty in having shown him that pink slip.

"If it makes you feel any better…," she spoke up, only to be cut off once again by a tight embrace from her friend.

"Nothing can make this better!," Alfred sobbed, wrapping his arms around [f/n].

"Huh?," she asked, perhaps also blushing a little.

"This is all my fault!," he continued to wail. "My boss warned me about this mess and look at what happened!"

His grip began to slacken up a bit, but [f/n] decided to hug him back, it was the least she could do. Both of them were aware of America's worsening economic situation: the wars overseas, rising gas prices, his rather humungous debt to China… [f/n] knew well that he didn't like being blamed on.

"You know, I don't blame you for anything…," [f/n] said in a soft, understanding tone.

"But how can a hero be a hero…when he can't even save his damsel in distress?," Alfred looked into her eyes with more tears forming.

"You are a hero as long as you keep fighting Alfred, and I have to thank you for that.," [f/n] smiled.

"Y-Yeah, you're right!," Alfred's glimmering smile instantly returned. "You're so smart and beautiful, you'll land a job by the end of the week!"

[f/n] blushed at his compliment, but she had to admit, he was right. The next day, she walked into an army registration office.

Alfred was excited at first to hear that [f/n] had gotten a new job, but over the next few months, she seemed…different. [f/n] eventually ceased talking for days on end and cut her hair short. She became significantly thinner and muscular, and even refused hamburgers! What had happened to the [f/n] that he knew and loved? It finally hit Alfred the day she came home in a typical army camouflage uniform, ready to once again to leave.

"[f/n]!," Alfred yelled.

"What is it?," [f/n] coldly replied, not even looking her nation in the eye.

Alfred immediately shut up as he saw her loading a couple of duffel bags into the trunk of the car that had pulled up front. He felt betrayed and helpless…was this really happening?

"What're you doing?," Alfred screamed, then [f/n] froze.

Turning to face America, [f/n] said with a bitterweet smile, "I'm simply going to go serve my nation."

"By being shipped off halfway around the world? Are you crazy-?"

"Alfred…I'm out of a home and job…what else have I got here?," [f/n] argued.

"…You've got me.," Alfred declared, grabbing her arm and pulling her in close. The two Americans stared deep into each others eyes before America's lips crashed onto [f/n]'s. Surprised, she let out a quiet gasp, but went along with it.

"Come back alive, O.K.?," the hero nervously said, breaking off the kiss.

"Yes, sir!," [f/n] mockingly saluted him. She then jumped back into his arms, savoring every last moment with him as if it were her last.

Three months passed for Alfred without a word from [f/n]. He shook off his doubt and just thought, 'Hey, it's the first few months, she's probably straightening everything out with the paperwork and trying to find a place for her. She probably hasn't been called into combat yet, I bet!' Little did he know that [f/n] was already in the front line, running for her life.

"Dear Alfred,

This army thing is turning out to be a lot harder than I thought, but you know what? I'm protecting MY hero here and that's what matters.

…Was that last line too sappy? Ugh…perhaps the heat is getting to my head!

-[f/n]"

A quickly scribbled letter turned up in his mailbox after a few weeks. He chuckled at the 'hero' remark, but that wouldn't put his doubts to rest…

"Alfred,

Life on the battlefield is hard, you know that? …Well…you're a nation, so I guess you're well-acquainted with the scenario I'm in.

It's hell."

Painful memories of the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, and the two World Wars flashed before Alfred's eyes as he read [f/n]'s second rather short letter. It was amazing at how her blunt, honest words from halfway around the world were moving him this much. Since she was taking the time to write these brief letters, Alfred thought that it was fair that he wrote her back.

[f/n] and Alfred kept a long correspondence between each other for the next few months, and it formed a bond between nation and citizen like never before. However, the fact of a mortal and a nation together would've been frowned upon. Alfred hasn't heard of it since Arthur and his Queen Elizabeth I. But…well…[f/n] was different.

To him, risking her young life to protect him was going above and beyond as an American citizen. But just how could he repay her? He couldn't just make the economic crisis disappear into thin air, and neither could he with his international debt.

But what kind of a gift would completely blow away a girl like [f/n]?

…

"[f/n],

Marry me?"

His next letter only needed two words (well, three if you count the whole "Dear So-and-so" formalities) to say what he felt in his heart. It was probably not even the greatest proposal, but to that young soldier waiting on the battlefield, it would just make her day. Slipping in a simple golden ring into the small envelope just made Alfred excited to go drop it off at the post office. He could wait to hear from her and how they were going to be planning everything!

"Ha! At the next World Meeting, Iggy and the others probably won't believe me at first!," he said to himself.

For the next few months, Alfred was stuck at home, twiddling his thumbs waiting for [f/n]'s response. He could almost imagine her next letter now: "Of course, hamburgers-for-brains!" is what she'll say, he thought. Speaking of letters, he just jumped as he heard the doorbell ring.

Bursting with excitement he exclaimed, "I bet the mailman's got that letter now!"

Alfred ran down to the front door, only to have one of his military officials waiting outside. He felt his heart sank at the sight of the stoic young man in uniform.

"Yes?," he asked.

"Sir, more unknown soldiers' bodies have returned home, and you know that it's just a nation's common courtesy to attend their funerals.," the man at his door said in a formal tone. "It'll be this weekend in D.C., your boss hopes to see you there."

He was then handed a neatly folded piece of paper, probably with directions and such. With that said and done, the official drove away, leaving Alfred rather down. Sighing, he just thought that perhaps her letter will come by later…

Before the funeral for the unknown soldiers, Alfred reported to the hospital where the priest would be giving them their final rights and such. Things like that always depressed him, he was the hero: yet he couldn't help them, and that was just torture.

The bodies of about six soldiers came out, and a seventh came out with a rather careless medic, letting one of the soldier's arms droop out from under the sheet that concealed them.

"Wait! Stop!," Alfred commanded the medic, who brought the stretcher to a complete halt.

Upon closer inspection, the soldier's hand was rather slim and feminine. It also appeared to be clutching something as well. Alfred took the hand and unfurled its fingers as he caught sight of a familiar golden glimmer.

"[f/n]?," he cried in disbelief, clutching the gold ring in his fist.

Without hesitation, he lifted up the sheets concealling the body, shocked in finding not a beautiful, slim figure…but [f/n]'s poor corpse beaten and maimed beyond recognition. The nation just collapsed in tears, tears that were now falling freely from his blue eyes.

"Sir, please!," he heard the military officials around him beg to quiet down.

Alfred would not quiet down, especially after figuring out the grotesque fate of his [f/n].

[f/n]'s funeral was held a few days later, all at Alfred's expense. Despite his current economic standing, he didn't care of what his boss said, he owed [f/n]. Her family was devastated by the news, but Alfred was not moved by their cries. If they had truly cared for their daughter, where was their support for her all along? Ever since she lost her job he could've sworn hearing her say that they never wanted to talk to her again.

A bunch of some of her close friends and neighbors were the only attendants.

At the next world meeting, Alfred nervously flipped through his small stack of papers, now stammering in his head about what he was going to say.

'O.K., just keep thinking about what [f/n] would say…," he thought hard of his deceased beauty on the battlefield. Certainly, discussing her short accounts of war were something that would move the other nations as well.

"Alright!," America heard Germany yell to the gathered nations. "This meeting has now officially begun, who would like to start us off?"

Everyone stared as Alfred rose up without even announcing himself as the hero or anything. Who was this nation and what has he done with the real America?

Before starting, Alfred calmed his head with the thought that [f/n]'s words could help him and these quarelsome nations actually get along…even if she won't be around to see it.

"You all know I call myself the hero…but do you all know who MY hero is?"

The End

A/N: Well, if there are any inaccuracies, please let me know! A little note about this oneshot, it was originally going to be some alternate ending to "A Year at the World Academy," another fanfiction of mine. However, seeing how this is definitely too sad for a fanfic under "Humor," it became a oneshot.