FIRST HETALIA FIC. well the first one i have to be uploaded on FF. enjoy and please Review!
"ARTHUR!" the name echoed throughout the deserted city. The crumbling, almost forgotten buildings were the only things to hear the panic stricken call. London had burned; burned like it had so many times before always to be rebuilt. However, there was no rebuilding to be done this time, there were no cheering survivors grateful to see a new day. It was like this everywhere - all over England. The country had almost been wiped from existence. In only a few short weeks, fire had swept the nation like a plague. Very few places and only a handful of people lived through the devastation.
"Arthur Kirkland!" The pleas grew desperate as a lone soldier ran the broken streets of London. Where was he? Alfred had to find him. He hadto still be alive.
"ENGLAND!" He called out again, tears streaking down his flushed cheeks. How had this happened? Why could a nation like this have fallen in such a short amount of time? He tripped as he reached the remains of tower Bridge. Looking up, Alfred could see clearly in the rising sun reveal the true devastation the fire had brought for the city before him. Not that he wanted to see it. He never wanted to feel this kind of pain again.
"England… A-Arthur how, how could this happen?" the American punched the crumbled ground beneath him, tears falling freer than ever before. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" He punched the ground again, glancing up at the desolate city before him one final time, only to gasp.
Alfred knelt up his mouth open and tears forgotten as he stared out across the river. There, standing on the edge of the destroyed bridge, was a lone man. His clothes ripped, his blonde hair knotted and damp with fresh blood. The tattered remains of a flag gripped tightly at his side, blowing in the morning breeze - the St. George's Cross.
"Arthur…?" Alfred stood, taking a few shaky steps closer. "Arthur?" he repeated - his voice having grown louder and more hopeful. The man turned – and Alfred smiled, forgetting his tears altogether.
"Arthur!" He breathed shakily with relief, and ran towards his friend. He practically picked the smaller nation up with his hug. "Arthur! I-I'm so glad. You're safe. You're alive. I'm so happy!"
Arthur said nothing at first. He waited for Alfred to release him. Only when the joy of seeing one another again had passed did either make a sound.
"Alfred. It's really you, isn't it…?" Alfred nodded wiping his eyes, as he stood away from Arthur.
Arthur smiled. "You fool... Wiping your eyes on your sleeve… it's un-gentlemanly," he muttered and hesitantly reached up with his flag. He wiped away the younger man's tears and cleaned off the dirt from his face - even though Arthur was far more dirtied.
"There. Hm, you're hopeless without me. Aren't you? "Alfred laughed at Arthur's smirk.
"But you're here now, Arthur," Alfred reminded him. The English man lost his smile and stepped away from the younger nation. His eyes taking on a sad tired look, the look he had worn before Alfred had ran to him.
"Yes… I'm here. And… I'm glad you're here with me Alfred." He looked down. He took another step away, nearing the edge. "I'm glad… I'm not alone for this."
Alfred nodded. "Of course! And I'll help you rebuild. I promise. I'll help you make your land cool again. It will be like it was, don't you worry!"
Silence fell between them, the whistle of wind being the only sound that could be heard. Alfred's smiled disappeared as he noticed that Arthur had moved away from him.
"Art-"
"You can rebuild this place if you want, Alfred." Arthur interrupted him. "Rebuild this city like it was, maybe even better. It's up to you - just as long as my people, the ones who are left, are happy. I don't mind." Alfred stepped closer reaching out for Arthur. "…These lands are… are yoursnow."
Alfred froze, watching the smile forming on Arthurs face. He felt tears well up as he finally realised what was happening.
"Arth-ur?" He was shaking. He ran forward grabbing Arthur by the shoulders. "No—no, you… you can't, you can't—Arthur, please!" He was beginning to break out into a scream now, pressure building in his throat as he tried not to cry again. Tried."Please don't leave me. I need you. Don't go, don't—!"
He felt arms wrap around him - a hand running through his hair, and another down his back.
"You bloody fool…" Arthur's voice was different. It was softer, sweeter, and fading. "Crying again. For me. What am I ever going to do with you Alfred?" Alfred snuggled into the crook of Arthur's neck, jaw clenched. He pulled them both down to their knees.
"…You'll be alright Alfred," Arthur whispered kindly into his ear, cheeks pressing against Alfred's as he tried to maintain a smile. Alfred panicked as he felt Arthur slipping away from him. He couldn't grasp at Arthur with his hands as the older man stepped away. "I'm so proud of you"
Alfred watched Arthur fade away - his form disappearing in a mix of sparkling lights dancing around in the air; separating and disappearing.
"A-Arthur…" Alfred tried reaching out for one of the dancing lights only for it to pass through his hand. His arm fell to his side as he watched the last of the lights dance and disappear around him.
"Arthur…" numbly he reached down picking up the discarded, ripped flag. He couldn't help himself as tears fell unstoppably from his eyes. He held the flag close lifting it to his lips. It was still warm were Arthur had been holding it.
He whispered his name once more, coupled with three broken little words that barely left his lips, and looked up into the morning sky through blurry eyes.
That morning, the sun rose to a bright red sky.