Title: Forever And Always

Rating: K+

Genres (because I've realized that this fic consists of more than two genres): Romance, tragedy, humor

Main characters: England/Arthur as the 'she' and America/Alfred as the 'he' mentioned in the song.

Summary: A story based on the lyrics of the title song by Parachute. Not exactly a songfic. USUK.

A/N: The first time I heard the lyrics to this song, I was so touched I cried a bit. I tried finding the music video for this song, but there wasn't any. So I wondered what exactly happened in the story and BAM, this was born. (BTW, I wrote/proofread this in eight hours, even postponing my dinner and bedtime to finish this. I'mhungryandtired /shot)

You (i.e. the reader) may want to go to YouTube to hear/read the lyrics of the song before and after reading this. It will make a little more sense (I think?). For those who are lazy, copy and paste this after the slash in the YouTube URL: watch?v= 56G7P-AY-h0 (remove the space in the middle)

Reviews and favorites are very much appreciated! ^u^

Disclaimer: 'Forever And Always' belongs to Parachute, Hetalia belongs to Himaruya-sensei, and anything else that was mentioned (i.e. The Star Spangled Banner, The Night Before Christmas, Post-it notes, etc.) belongs to their rightful owners. I don't even own the plot; that goes to Parachute. I only own the storytelling of the plot and its fusion with Hetalia. :)

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Arthur tapped his feet impatiently as he glanced at the wall clock for what seemed like the millionth time. Alfred was supposed to pick him up for dinner hours ago. He knew that the American had the tendency to be late, but not this late. Even if he got held up with work, he could have remembered to call. Or maybe he didn't dare face the Britannia rage when he does remember.

Arthur looked back out the window, the one that had the perfect view of the driveway and the main road it lead to, wishing that somehow, during the split second he used to look at the clock, Alfred's car would have magically appeared. It could happen, he reasoned with himself, seeing how fast (and recklessly – in Arthur's words, not Alfred's) he loved to drive.

But no. The driveway stayed silent and empty.

A beep sounded from his phone. Arthur looked at the screen eagerly, but his face fell when he saw that the sender was not Alfred, but Francis, or, according to his contacts, 'Frog Face'. With a sigh, he opened the message, hoping that at least the Frog had seen Alfred.

'Non, rosbif, I have not seen your fiancé since I left the office with Mathieu. Why? Are you too excited to have your chéri back to-'

Arthur hit the delete button without reading the rest of the (most likely perverted and suggestive – he pitied Matthew) message and let the phone drop onto the table. He had messaged almost every friend, family and colleague Alfred has, and no one had said that they have seen him.

Why isn't he here yet? Arthur thought worryingly. Is there something wrong?

Just as he was about to look out the window again, his phone started buzzing across the table while playing 'The Star-Spangled Banner', the American national anthem. Arthur bit back a laugh as he hit the button with the little green phone symbol. That wanker, messing around with his phone and changing his ringtone behind his back…

"Good evening, Arthur Kirkland speaking." Arthur frowned when he realized it was not Alfred calling him, as he would have been interrupted before he finished the greeting, probably with something along the lines of 'Hey Artieeeeeee!'

"…only gave us this number. May I ask for your relationship with Mr. Jones?"

"Wh-what?" Arthur was confused. The speaker has an unfamiliar female voice, and it was trembling slightly, although she tried her best to keep it steady. "I-I beg your pardon?"

He heard the female clear her throat and speak again, albeit a little too monotonously and hurriedly, as if she was reading off a script and wanted to get off the phone as quickly as possible. "Mr. Alfred F Jones has been in a car accident, and is currently in critical condition. May I ask for your relationship with him, please."

Car… Accident…? Arthur thought, his mind not able to comprehend that piece of information. He heard himself say the words 'I'm his fiancé' without thinking, but it was too late to take the words back, and he heard the female make a sound (he was not sure if it was out of shock or disgust – or both) over the line. He actually meant to say 'cousin', but Francis's message (curse that wine guzzling Frog!) was still fresh in his mind.

"O-okay, um…" she fumbled, not at all sounding professional.

She must be a trainee, Arthur thought, preventing himself to state her occupation.

She took a breath to compose herself. "You should come over. Right now. He's… He's asking for you."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was the night before Christmas. All through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Well, not exactly, as there were two certain men still awake. They sat at the exact same table Arthur was sitting at, but they were having a candlelit pre-Christmas dinner together.

Against Arthur's protests, Alfred had prepared the whole dinner by himself. Well, it was handy having a Frenchman with a degree in culinary arts as one's brother's boyfriend, even if your own boyfriend hated his guts. Alfred made sure Arthur was kept occupied (by said brother and brother's boyfriend) while he shut himself in the kitchen for the whole afternoon. As a result, neither got food poisoning the next day, and even Arthur reluctantly agreed that it was good.

Once they have both eaten their fill and put the dirty dishes in the sink (Alfred pulled a complaining Arthur away from them, saying that they can be washed tomorrow), Alfred announced that it is present time.

"But it's not even Christmas yet, idiot," Arthur said as he was forced to sit on the couch, gesturing pointedly at the wall clock (the same clock Arthur was looking at) which said 10.25.

Alfred pouted and reached for the clock. He fiddled with the dials at the back of the clock until he was satisfied, then he hung it back up. The clock now read 12.27.

"There," he said with a grin, "Now it is Christmas."

Arthur huffed, calling Alfred a git under his breath. In his mind, he worried. He had not brought his Christmas gift over when he came for the pre-Christmas dinner, although he had anticipated something like this to happen.

"Me first!" Alfred declared, carrying a large box covered in white wrapping paper and tied with a red ribbon. He fell on both knees in front of Arthur and held out the box. "Merry Christmas, Artie!"

"Gee, I wonder what it could be," Arthur said sarcastically, accepting and shaking the box for good measure.

To tell the truth, he had no idea what it was.

"So open it!" Alfred said, still on his knees and looking at Arthur with a smile on his face, as if he had read his mind.

"If you insist." Arthur began to carefully peel the sticky tape off the wrapping paper with deliberate slowness, taunting them both.

"Urgh, don't be like that, Artie," Alfred whined.

"Stop calling me Artie, and I may go a bit faster."

"Fine, Arthur. Or should I start calling you Mr. Kirkland?"

"Don't be a git."

"Yes, Mr. Kirkland."

"Alfred!"

By then, he had uncovered the cardboard box, which had the label…

"You're giving me stacks of paper?" Arthur asked incredulously.

Alfred was already shaking his head before the sentence was complete. "No, no, that box was the biggest one I could find. It was either that or the Guitar Hero box. It's definitely not paper. Go on, open it."

Arthur gave Alfred a Look as he pulled off the lid. Inside was a mass of crumpled newspaper surrounding another smaller box.

"A kitchen scale?"

Alfred shook his head again. "Nope. Again, the only box I could find that fits in the paper box. I mean the box for the papers- Oh, you get my point."

"Ah, so you're going to play that game, huh?" Arthur said, throwing the newspaper stuffing at Alfred.

"Wait!" Alfred said, swatting the newspapers away. "You forgot to read the back of the lid."

Sure enough, stuck to the back of the lid was a yellow Post-it note. Arthur recognized Alfred's untidy scrawl that produced the words, 'Hey Artie! Merry Christmas! And happy New Year! xx'

Arthur's heart fluttered a little at the last bit, but he disguised it with an eye roll. "You could have just said that to my face."

"Whatever, just open the next box!"

Obediently, Arthur flipped the lid of the kitchen-scale-box and noticed the next Post-it note (it was blue this time) almost immediately. It said, 'Getting tired of boxes already? I couldn't find that many, so don't worry! It's going to be over soon!'

In that box was a small disposable opaque container, also cushioned with crumpled newspaper. The orange Post-it note was on top of the container this time, and it contained a lone smiley that looked a little like this - :D

Arthur glanced up to give Alfred the Look again, but he was staring at the wall behind the couch with a bored expression on his face.

"C'mon Artie, you're slow," Alfred complained, bringing one knee up and resting his elbow on the raised knee, and supporting his head with his hand. He even started jiggling the raised knee. "Are all old men this slow?"

Arthur lifted the container out of the box, placed it beside him, and before Alfred could figure out what he's up to, he dumped the contents of the big paper-box on Alfred, Post-it notes and all.

"Hey!" Alfred yelped as the smaller kitchen-scale-box hit his shoulder. Crumpled newspaper cascaded around the bespectacled blonde like a waterfall, but not as majestically as a real one. Arthur noticed that the Post-it note with the smiley was caught in his hair, but he didn't point it out.

While Alfred was busy brushing off the newspaper, Arthur quickly opened the container. Inside was yet another even smaller box that fitted almost perfectly in the container (hence the lack of padding), but this box was not the disposable cardboard kind he had seen so far. This box was covered in blue velvet, so dark that it looked black in the candlelight. This box was the size of a cube, but it was not shaped as a perfect cube. This box was small enough to be held in one hand, yet it contained something so big it would change someone's life forever. And on that particular day, that someone was to be Arthur.

With shaky hands, Arthur slowly opened the box.

And gasped.

A band of metallic silver winked back at him, reflecting the candlelight. A pink Post-it note, carefully cut out into a heart shape, was wedged in the semi-circular hole. Written neatly on it was the question Arthur had been dreading, yet looking forward to (if that even made any sense) for months:

'Will you marry me?'

Speechless, Arthur looked up, noticing the pose Alfred had for the first time and realizing the purpose of his earlier actions.

Alfred smiled softly. "Arthur," he said sincerely, "I want you forever. Forever and always, through the good, and the bad, and the ugly. We'll grow old together." He chuckled at this for a moment and added, "forever and always."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Arthur snapped out of the flashback from December before he missed the right exit off the highway. He pulled up to the entrance of the hospital and parked the car right there, not caring about the parking fee he would be slapped with later.

Unconsciously, he watched himself walk right to the front desk, as if his body had a mind of its own. The receptionist behind the desk looked up from her computer. "Yes?" she enquired helpfully.

His mouth moved on its own. "I'm Arthur Kirkland. Which room is he in? I mean, you know… Alfred F Jones?" His voice cracked at the last word, and he cleared his throat nervously.

A look of recognition hit the receptionist, as if he was famous throughout the hospital (more like infamous among some nurses as 'that-gay-person'). She asked for a moment and pressed a button somewhere behind the desk (probably on a phone). She waited for a second and spoke into the mike in a low tone, not that Arthur was listening.

Not long after, a doctor and a nurse approached the Briton. The doctor had blonde hair and glasses, and the nurse had short brown hair.

"Mr. Kirkland?" the doctor asked. "I'm Doctor von Bock, and this is my assistant, Nurse Bella. She was the one who had called you earlier. We will escort you to Mr. Jones. Please follow us, and I'll explain the situation as we walk."

They lead Arthur down one hallway after another, taking so many twists and turns that he felt that he could never escape this maze if he were to find him alone. Doctor von Bock talked about what happened at the accident and his condition, but Arthur could barely hear him. It was already an effort for him to keep up with their pace. It felt as if they were running a marathon instead of strolling through the hospital corridor.

After what seemed like years, they finally stop outside a door. Many replications of the same door lined the corridor, but the thing that made this door different from the rest is that he was behind it.

Arthur took a shaky breath and tried to keep a straight face as he pushed the door open and walked into the room. He pressed his lips together to prevent making any sound as he looked at him.

His chest, arms and legs was wrapped up in bandages, which were stained red at seemingly random spots. The hospital-issued tacky green shirt and thin blanket covered the worst of the injuries, but Arthur could not help noticing the missing right arm and the long (and probably deep) cut from his right temple to his chin (that the bandages didn't do a good job of hiding). Tubes were everywhere (beneath his nose and in his left arm) and wires snaked out from under the hospital shirt to the monitor Arthur had seen many times on TV but never in real life. The soft and constant but annoying 'beep beep beep' sounded from the machine, as the lines and numbers on the screen indicated that he was still alive.

"Ar… tie…?"

Arthur rushed by his bedside and sat on a wobbly plastic chair. He (very gently) smacked his shoulder.

"How many times must I tell you not to call me that, you git?" he hissed, but he smiled despite his words.

Alfred slowly opened his eyes and matched his smile. "You… came…" he said hoarsely and coughed slightly.

Arthur rolled his eyes and poured a glass of water from the beaker on the bedside table. "Of course I came, idiot. You are the one who called me here, weren't you?" he said, slowly letting Alfred sip at the water. He heard the door open and close behind him, and he was grateful for the gift of privacy. "And what did I tell you about driving recklessly?" he lectured as he put the half empty glass on the table and picked up the abandoned glasses, noticing that one of the lens was slightly cracked. He gently slid them on Alfred's face, and before he could withdraw his hands, Alfred reached out with his only hand and grabbed Arthur's. Arthur tightened his grip, not wanting to let go, not caring if it's too tight.

"Hey, Arthur?" Alfred said slowly, taking breaths every few syllabus. "Remember… what we discussed… last Christmas?"

"Of course, how could I forget?" Arthur recalled. "After we get married, we'll go back to the English countryside, get a pretty house on the hillside. We'll get a kid too, maybe, like Tino and Berwald did, and we'll be living the good life there."

Alfred nodded as he remembered. "Yeah, stay there forever… and always. Who cares if we… became rich or poor… 'cause I'll still love you… forever and always."

Arthur nodded, blinking back the tears that had sprang in his eyes. "Me too…"

Suddenly, he got an idea. "Hang on Alfred, I'll be right back," he said as he stood up.

Alfred looked confused. "Where…?"

"Shh, just… hang on, alright?" He gave his hand one last squeeze before placing it back on the bed. He walked to the door and stuck his head out.

Only Nurse Bella was waiting there in the corridor. When she saw Arthur, she started to explain where the doctor had gone, but she was interrupted by Arthur with a strange request. "Go bring up a chaplain."

"E-excuse me?"

Arthur sighed in frustration. "Get a chaplain. Priest. Pastor. Whatever. Now!" The nurse jumped at the command and nodded quickly before dashing off to fetch said person.

Arthur looked over his shoulder. "I'll be back soon, wait for me," he called.

"W-wait," Alfred said, loud enough that Arthur heard him. He looked back.

"What is it?" he asked.

Alfred grinned. "You have… a nice ass."

Arthur's face burned as he hissed back, "You bloody wanker!" before going out into the corridor. He took a few seconds to compose himself, being thankful that no one was around.

He knocked politely on the door next to his. Fortunately, a couple were inside, the male being the one injured. After introducing himself, explaining his story and stating his request, the female visitor, Elizabeta, surprisingly nodded with understanding, and had to convince her injured husband, Roderich, to lend their wedding rings to Arthur. After swearing that he would not steal them, and allowing Elizabeta to follow him back, Arthur managed to borrow the rings and, with Elizabeta tailing him, he slipped back into Alfred's room.

By then, Nurse Bella had returned with a Catholic priest. It turns out that he was visiting a couple of German patients in the hospital when he had overheard Nurse Bella speak to Doctor von Bock about requesting for a priest, and he had volunteered to help. He introduced himself as Reverend Feliciano Vargas. Arthur was surprised that he still agreed to help out, even after stating his request.

Arthur could hear the faint muffled laughter coming from the other nurses outside, who were gossiping about this unusual event, but it was drowned out by Reverend Vargas' strong voice as he recited a couple of verses from heart. Tears fall from his eyes unbidden onto the floor as Reverend Vargas signals him to say his marriage vows.

Arthur looked into Alfred's bright blue eyes. "Alfred," he said, sliding the ring on his partner's left ring finger and quoting his words from last December, on that fateful night.

"I want you forever. Forever and always, through the good and the bad and the ugly. We'll grow old together, and always remember, whether happy or sad or whatever, that I'll still love you, forever and always."

As Arthur finished his vows, he noticed that the beeps are getting too slow as he guided Alfred's hand to his own, slipping the ring on the correct finger.

In a low whisper, so quiet that Arthur had to lean in to hear him, Alfred said his vows with a tear in his eye.

"Arthur, I love you forever and always. Please just remember that even if I'm not there, that I'll always love you."

"Forever and always…"