Hello :) This is my first Hetalia fanfic, and I'm still new to writing fics in general, so please be nice. Constructive Criticism is always welcome and appreciated. This is a quick thing I did late at night after re-reading the part where America cleans his closet. It is currently un-beta-ed and was written very quickly. Any mistakes pointed out will be corrected.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Clearly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

England stumbled into his home at nearly 3:00 am. He had just lost the war to his brother, his son. He mechanically went up to his bedroom, and collapsed immediately onto his bed, not bothering to remove his uniform stained with the blood of his children. No. His former children. They were America's now. They had chosen to fight him, too. They're father. None of them wanted to be his. He lay in bed, silent tears streaming down his face. He recalled all the years that had led up to America's rebellion, his revolution.

He began sobbing into his pillow. All the years England had existed, which was far more than he could really recall, he had experienced all kinds of pain and hurt, yet never before had he felt such absolute torture. His brother, his own son, the one he found and adopted, took under his care and protection, had decided he no longer needed England. Never before had England been so alone, either. America certainly wasn't going to see him, since he had fought an entire war just NOT to see him. And France had fought on America's side against him, so he wouldn't be coming around anytime soon, either.

England gasped and sobbed harder into his pillow. He could smell the stench of the dried blood on his clothes.

He knew the war was coming. Everyone did. It wasn't something he could do anything about, though, once he realized what was happening. America had always been independent. Ever since England found him in the "New Land". He had always wanted to learn and do things for himself, so when England allowed him to stay in his home country by himself, it should have been expected that he would want to become his own nation.

England really should have paid more attention in the years leading up to the fights. He was so busy dealing with issues in his homeland, and he trusted that America was capable of taking care of himself. He was right. Horribly right, as he soon found out. America was more than capable. He was destined to run his own nation. England only wished their parting would have ended on better terms. He trusted America to take care of his people. He did, he only passed so many laws because he was worried. He wasn't able to keep a constant watch on him and wanted to make sure they would be kept safe. And the only reason they were taxed so much was because England was in desperation of finances to keep his homeland running, though as it turned out his boss was more greedy than England had first realized.

He choked out a pathetic "I'm sorry" to America, "I'm so sorry", though he couldn't hear him.

----

Across the Atlantic Ocean, America sat on his bed, still in bloody uniform, clutching a toy soldier, sobbing.

---------------------------------------------------

Fin