Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia...what else do I need to say?
Arthur felt helpless. He had come to America to visit Alfred for a week because Alfred was so excited about the election he had begged Arthur to come over to "soak in the awesomeness that is democracy," but now, he was watching his boyfriend sob into his shoulder. "It hurts so much!" "Hush, love. I know."
Alfred had been so pumped since the election. He was always happy with the results because whatever happened, the person that the most people voted for won, so over half of his people were overjoyed. Just a few days afterwards, though, his left foot started to hurt. He didn't think much about it at the time, other than "I hope it's not another hurricane," but now, not even a week after the election, his body felt like it was being ripped apart. It had started when Louisiana had begun a petition to secede the union. Then it had spread. As more signatures were added, the more his foot threatened to rip itself off. Now more states had petitions, and he felt like he was being drawn and quartered. His shoulder, his wrist, and several of his insides were on fire. And now Alfred could hardly see; being as he could no longer wear Texas, the glasses were set on his bedside table after they had burned him when he tried to put them on. He rubbed the burn under his eye absently, while England watched.
"Your brother called earlier, he said to tell you not to worry about your glasses, because he has problems with Quebec too, sometimes, and that it is common for them to burn like this, but they will be fine when things settle down." ** For a second, Alfred had to think "I have a brother?" and "What's a Quebec?" before he mentally slapped himself, and reminded himself to call Canada later. He had been worried about how Texas was reacting. Because it was not really a body-part, he was worried to take it off, as if it would become independent if it weren't stuck to his face, and the fact that he couldn't wear it was disconcerting, because that was how he'd stolen the glasses from Mexico.
"Iggy, what if it happens again?" Arthur knew exactly what the American was referring to: the Civil War. Alfred had been in so much pain that time, he had blacked out. When he woke up, he was tired, but the pain was gone. But his usual areas no longer represented what they used to. Though he had a whole body, he still knew that so much of him was gone. It had compiled itself into a new person whom Alfred refused to acknowledge: The Confederacy. That war had taken everything out of him but the worse part for Alfred as a person was the feeling of missing his own body. When he had reabsorbed the Confederacy, he had never felt so relieved and… whole. Alfred's biggest fear –more than ghosts– was that happening again.
"Nonsense, love. It won't. This sort of thing happens all the time, and you've gotten through it before, and nothing ever comes of it. I can reassure you forever, I just wish I could stop the pain faster." Alfred nodded. This was true. Every couple of years –usually after an election, this would happen. And Alfred would always be just as scared, but it would always go away. It was a wonder he could be in so much pain even though the majority of his country was so happy. Why couldn't everyone just be happy? Alfred tried so hard to make his nation one that all of his people would be proud of. "Artie, what can I do to make them all happy, so they'll never do this again? Maybe if I made it impossible, people wouldn't even think of it. Or, or if they would be too scared to…"America wondered, "Alfred that sort of thinking is dangerous. You know that that's what drove Russia absolutely nutters. There is absolutely no way to make everyone happy. If you do something to make some people happy, there will always be others who are unhappy with the same action. The best you can do is to try to keep most people happy. And you are. You are doing the best you can, and that is enough," England soothed. Lithuania had told America of the exact moment Russia snapped during his outsourcing period.
Even though Alfred knew he was right, it still made him sad that he couldn't please everyone. He curled further into England's arms drinking in the comfort he was being given. Usually the two's positions were switched, but "even the heroes have the right to bleed."* Arthur brushed his fingers through the larger blonde's hair. "You know I'm spoiling you, letting you get away with calling me those horrid nick-names of yours…" Arthur pointed out. "You know I hate all that 'Iggy' and 'Artie' rubbish." Alfred just smiled. He knew his Iggy was lying, but thankful for the change in topic, played along. "Would you prefer me to call you 'Eyebrows' or something romantically embarrassing?" "That," England growled, "would earn you a sound thrashing. I don't care how infirm you are, I'll introduce you to a new world of pain."Alfred smiled. He loved getting Artie all riled up. "However," the brit continued, "since I'm already spoiling you, would you like me to get you anything?" Alfred thought about it, and though he wasn't actually sure he could eat…well, maybe Iggy could feed it to him. He liked that thought. "Hamburgers." Alfred said decisively. England's hand promptly introduced itself to his own face, and muttered "git," before untangling himself from the American to walk to the nearest McDonalds.
A/N: *I love that song. This comes from Five for Fighting's "Superman."
This is just something that came to me while watching the news. Please don't leave comments that are politically fuelled and could be offensive. Even though I might enjoy it, it could upset other people. Save the drama for your mama, and all that. Yay! This was my first story, how did I do? Yeah, lame ending I know.