An: I do not own Hetalia. There is a longer note at the bottom discussing plans for my other fics if you would like to read that.

Edit: this is a note to The Sweet Bear: Hey, if you get a chance to read this, of course you can translate this to Chinese. I'm honored that you think that well of it. I would reply to your review itself and not here, but you left a guest review.

Little America walked towards the door of England's office at America's house. Alfred hoped his big brother hadn't left yet. He knocked on the door, because that's what England had always said to do before entering a room. "England?" He asked. "Do you want to build a snowman? Come on, let's go and play!"

There was no answer, so America pushed open the door to find the room empty. He ran down the halls and out the door, still in his pajamas even though it was mid-winter. On the horizon, far out at sea, America saw England's ship sailing away. The boy sighed. England always left without saying goodbye.

"I never see you anymore, you're across the world, so very far away."

When England returned, several years later, he refused to play with America, saying the boy had grown too old, even though he was only ten in human years. England stayed in his office, filling out paperwork. Sometimes, America got to see his older brother, but only when England was trying to get him to work or to try his cooking.

"We used to play almost every day
And now we don't.
I wish you would tell me why."

It had just snowed last night, and the snow looked perfect for snowmen and snow forts. America knocked on England's bedroom door, asking, "Do you want to build a snowman?" Inside, he thought to himself, 'It doesn't have to be a snowman."

His only reply was a muffed, "Go away, Alfred."

He left, a faint "Okay, bye" on his lips.

America wished England would stop demanding America for money to pay for the man's wars with France. He kept asking, but never got a reply from his older brother.

It had been almost a hundred years since he had even seen his brother. America understood that for countries, one hundred years wasn't that long, but for young America, it had seemed like a very long time indeed.

But today was the day! England was finally visiting! His ship was docked, and he was on his way to Alfred's home. He couldn't wait!

The minutes moved much too slowly. Finally, America spotted a carriage coming down the road. As England entered, America was shocked. He was taller than his brother now! After hugging his brother, he asked him about the weather.

"There's certainly a lot more snow here than back home."

"I know, hey, do you want to build a snowman?"

"America, I'm too old for that, and now I guess that you are too."

"Well, we could race through the halls?"

England frowned. "I see you're still immature, no matter how much older you look."

And that was the end of the conversation. England stayed only a short while, and the time was awkward. Neither seemed to know how to act around the other one. Too soon, England left for his homeland, leaving America all alone again.

After England's short stay, America's house seemed even more empty than usual. He wrote to his other brother Canada, begging for him to come visit.

"Matthew, I know we haven't talked in forever," he started, "but, I think some company is overdue. Can you believe I've started talking to
the pictures on the walls!"

Canada's response didn't help at all. "I wish I could, brother, but France keeps bugging me with money issues and resources. I don't really have the time."

America understood. Things weren't as carefree as they used to be, when he and his brother ran around free with the Natives, chasing buffalo and falling asleep under the stars.

"All right," he wrote back. "Still, we need to meet up soon."

He could almost see his brother smiling from across their two land masses. "Hang in there, Alfred." His brother had said in his last letter.

America stood by the window, watching the sea. How he wished England's ship would just appear there. He sighed to himself. "It gets a little lonely," he said to the lifeless air around him, "With all these empty rooms, just watching the years pass by."

The only response was the tick-tock of the clock across the room.

After the Revolutionary War, England never spoke to America. If he had any business words for the country, all his letters were directed towards his president. Years passed, and a deadly war struck. All of Europe was engulfed in fighting.

England's allies called on America for help, and eventually he did. Still, the two spoke no words to each other and the country's representation was rarely seen. And when he was, it was in the middle of the battle.

After the war, much of the world was in debt. America closed its doors and enforced an isolationist policy. Not that England cared, as the man told himself.

The Second World War soon broke out. England was losing, and he desperately needed the help of his former brother, but he refused to admit it. Finally, after the attack on Pearl Harbor, the stubborn man joined the Allies.

It was after a meeting with the rest of the Allies that America confronted his former caretaker. England would have ran faster, but his bandaged chest from the bombing on London was still painful.

"England, please, I know you can hear me." America tried to speak to him, but England stayed quiet. "And I know, people are asking where I've been. I've said, "have courage" and that you would pull through. Now, I'm right here for you. Just let me in."

England turned around, letting the American speak, but he still didn't reply. For the first time in forever, green eyes met blue.

"We only have each other. It's just you and me. What are we gonna do?" America asked, for the first time looking unsure of himself. He had no battle plan, no strategy. A large portion of his Navy and his Air Force had been damaged in Hawaii.

Finally, England walked towards America. He stopped right in front of the man who was now impossibly taller than himself. Inside, Arthur was proud of the man his America had grown into. Outside, however, his face was stoic.

"You left me." He said, his voice quiet.

Alfred took a moment of silence before replying to the accusation. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

England felt a tear escape his eye before he could stop it. He then found himself wrapped in his former brother's strong arms. England closed his eyes and hugged America back.

The two stood there for a moment before stepping apart. Quickly composing themselves, they looked back to each other and silently agreed that this moment was never to be spoken of again.

"So, where are we off to next?" America was the first to speak.

"Germany. And don't forget to pack warm clothes. It just snowed there and I won't have you dying of hyperthermia in the middle of the war!"

America rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother." He smiled and for once, England smiled back. "Hey England, once we get there, do you want to build a snowman?"

England's smile fell. "You are the most immature brat I have ever..."

America laughed as England continued to rant. He knew this was the start of the next chapter in their story. Maybe not as brothers, but as the best of friends.

AN: Okay, so this isn't one of my original stories on here, and I hate to keep making promises, but I really do hope to continue them. My thoughts are to first continue on the Very Potter Musical story, even if that means putting the rest on Hiatus. Sorry for those of you that wanted to read those. I want to come back to them, but probably not anytime soon.

Anyways, please review, or at least favorite if you like this quick story.