Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, nor the characters.
Also, don't hate me because this is yet another sad fanfiction.
He stood there. He watched the unmoving stone upon him.
"Sorry..." He muffled, a flower hanging limply in his hand. "I'm sorry..." He muttered again, drawing his fingers over the stone gently. "I didn't want that to happen. I didn't mean it," He continued on, beginning to get choked up in his words, "sorry..."
Tears had begun to drip down his face, Alfred's face, falling from his cheek and onto the ground underneath him. His fingers brushed over the cold stone before him. A stone before a bed of soil and flowers. He couldn't take his gaze away. "Why'd you do it?" He began asking questions, kneeling down to the height of the stone before him. "I didn't ask you to take the penalty for me. It's not like I wouldn't mind joining you." Alfred shakily took his hand from the stone, keeping from anymore tears that threatened. "You idioit. I would have taken your place gladly. Everyone misses you. It's all my fault..."
"Wah," Went a high-pitched wail. A blonde man with unusally thick eyebrows turned around to stare over his shoulder. He watched as two young boys raced towards him. One was screaming and crying while the other worriedly hurried after him. "Now what have you gotten yourself into Alfred?" The man asked as he kneeled down to meet the two.
"England," The second squeaked, holding his bear tightly to him, "Alfred fell and scraped his knee. He says it really hurts!"
"It really hurts? Well, we can't have that. Wipe away your tears, and we'll you get you a bandage." England insisted, turning his back to the injured boy, and he waited for him to jump on. After a few minutes, the man turned back to look at the confused child. "Well, come on Alfred. Let's get you inside, jump on." He demanded, smiling as the boy obeyed, and he heaved him up as they walked inside. "Do you want a treat as well?" England asked.
"What kind of treat?" He asked, gripping onto the wild hair of the brit.
"Whatever you want," England said, ignoring the pain in his scalp.
"Burgers?" Alfred suggested.
"Hamburgers?! Why in the world would you insist on having that absurd excuse for food?!" England began to fret, ignoring the giggles coming from Matthew.
"I want it! I want it! I want it! I want it! I want it!"Alfred began to wail, tugging on the blonde hair even more.
"Ugh! Fine you trecherous toddler! Just stop pulling my hair!" England had grunted, and he walked inside with the sastified Alfred.
"Heh, you never did like burgers... we were polar opposites." Alfred smiled, drifting off into old memories. "You took care of me and Canada anyway though. Why'd you do that? I brought you into war for my own independence, and I made you suffer. Then I tortured you the rest of my life. Why do you care so much?" Alfred asked, glaring at the stone. He expected it to respond, but shook his head. "So you're giving me the silent treatment? Whatever, you'll talk to me soon enough. You always do."
"Alfred! You're going to get fat on those bloody burgers of yours! Now stop snacking on them, and do something resourceful like Matthew! He helps clean the house, and even offers to make us meals once in a while, but you just eat those stupid hamburgers all day long while we clean up your seasame seeds!" England had snapped, storming towards the kitchen to where a older Alfred stood.
"What was that, England?" Alfred muffled with a burger stuffed in his mouth.
"Eat anymore of those and you're going to get fat!" England yelled again.
"Calm down! I'm not going to get fat, I make sure to drink a diet coke after every meal, so it's impossible to get fat." Alfred assured him, but it obviously wasn't enough. He was taken by surprise when the burger he was eating was snatched away from him by the man. Alfred glared at him, and snorted. "Give me back my burger, you big-eyebrowed freak of nature!" Alfred yelled, attempting to climb up England to grab the burger back.
"No! I'm sick of these hamburgers, and I regret ever making them for you!" England growled, and he shoved Alfred away from him.
Alfred glared at England again before stomping his foot, and turning away from him. His arms were now crossed, and his head was held up high.
"Alfred F. Jones, what are you doing?" England grumbled.
"Hmph." Was all Alfred said.
"The silent treatment, eh? Good. Things have already gotten quieter here." England said and he walked off.
It had been days now since Alfred had last talked, and England was beginning to get annoyed by the odd silence.
"Alfred," England said.
There was no response.
"Alfred," England's voice was beginning to sound irritated.
More silence.
"Alfred!" England shouted, gripping his forehead stressfully.
Alfred kept his back turned. He had kept up this long, he could on forever more if he wanted to. He kept his eyes squeezed shut until he smelt something. A burger. He looked over his shoulder slightly to see England handing out a burger towards him. "E-England?" Alfred said silently, turning around to look at him.
"Just take the bloody hamburger. But don't eat as much as you usually do, okay?" England grumbled, not looking at him.
Alfred smiled and snatched the burger away, gulping it down.
"You never won the silent game. It's odd how I always did though..." Alfred muttered. He turned back to face the stone again before smiling. "You're stupid, you know. Why'd you have to take the death penalty in that accident instead of me? I was the one driving, and you took it all. All I got were a few bruises... and you weren't the one to bandage them for me." Alfred gulped, feeling a large lump rising in his throat. "I'm really sorry... It's all my fault. I should have watched where I was going. Stopping all of a sudden like that was a stupid of me... but you were really stupid too. Why didn't you just let me be the hero, like you promised I would be."
"England!" A older Alfred had yelled, perhaps about thirteen or fourteen years of age. He ran down the hallways of the house, looking everywhere for his british caretaker. "England!" He sang, still searching. "England! Get your british-butt out here so you can read Matthew and I a story!" Alfred yelled loudly, stomping his foot angrily.
"A story? What are you, five? I haven't read you a story in years." England suddenly poked his head out of a room. He walked out and towards the anxious boy who held out a book towards him with a smirk. "Alfred, this is a book I read to you when you were a child. Stop being stupid." England grumbled, glaring at the book cover.
"Well, i'm older now and I can't remember how it went! Now read it!" Alfred demanded.
"Fine, but where's Matthew?" England asked, looking around.
"He's at your reading chair, waiting." Alfred replied.
"Reading chair? What's that?" England gave him a confused look with large furrowed eyebrows.
"The chair where you use to read us stories, duh." Alfred said, walking downstairs with England.
"Bro! I got him!" Alfred yelled, racing down the staircase as he jumped around the chair and Matthew.
Matthew just watched his brother, hugging his bear and smiling. "Good job, Alfred."
England sighed and plopped down in the large chair, resting on leg over the other.
"Dude, that's how girls sit!" Alfred pointed out, leaning over the top of the chair to get a good over-sight view of the book.
"W-What?! S-Shut up! This is how a proper gentleman sits!" England said, a blush reaching his cheeks. "Give me the bloody book already!" He snapped instantly as he heard Alfred snicker while giving him the book. "Alright then, In a galaxy lightyears away..."
Minutes later, England had shut the book. "Happy? Can I get back to work now?" England sighed, and he stood up from his seat. He prepared to walk back upstairs until he felt a tug on his shirt. He glanced over his shoulder, and stared at Alfred.
"E-England..." Alfred stuttered.
"What is it Alfred?" The british gentleman turned to face Alfred with a gentle smile.
"I-I want to be a hero... do you think I could be one?" Alfred asked nervously, staring up at England with ambition in his blue eyes.
England only smiled and ruffled Alfred's hair playfully. "If you really want."
"You lied. You said I could be the hero, but you lied. I could have been the hero and taken the accident for you! I could be your place now! You're more level-minded and experience, and you know how to keep the group together! I don't know any of that!" Alfred yelled, his hands gripping onto the grass underneath him. "How do you expect any of us to carry on after you? None of us are good enough." Alfred hung his head, his tears falling once again.
"You american idioit! Watch where you're going!" England shouted at America, beating him in the back of the head with his balled fist. "This is no time for eating burgers! And why are you eating anyways when we're going to pick up hamburgers since it's a life-death situation for you!" England continued yelling, much to America's annoyance.
America glared at England, and took another large bite out of the burger, just to annoy him. "Calm down! It's a red light, I know what i'm doing!" America snapped.
"If you know what to do, then go you idioit! The light just changed to green, and you're still eating your burger!" England shouted.
"Oh really?" America poked his head up, and he drew foward, continuing to eat his burger.
"Stop eating the burger," England grumbled.
"No." America snorted.
"Stop eating the burger," England repeated, sounding angered now.
"No." America stuck out his tongue and took another bite.
"Stop eating the burger!" The man's voice was a shout now.
America then suddenly stopped the car in the middle of traffic, and turned to glare at England. "I'm not a kid, anymore, stop treating me like one! I have my own independence now!" America snapped, his gaze blazing into England's. He barely heard the honks and a flashing light of a car until England gripped him and pulled him into his chest. "What the-"
"Shut up!" England yelled, and he prepared to say to yell something else until a truck had smashed into the side of the car, thrusting the both of them back.
America glanced around nervously, barely able to see. He was covered in injuries, and blood, and he felt pain everywhere. "Ow... E-England?" America muttered, glancing around him, though it hurt. He heard siren alarms, saw a few cops talking a people, two mashed cars, and ambulance trucks. He gasped as he was lifted up by two men. "What are you doing? Where's my friend?" America asked, glancing around nervously. His breath quickened as he repated his question, refusing to be ignored.
The men sighed, glancing down at America angrily. "I'm sorry to say, but your friend was caught in the accident with you. The car rammed into the section of the car that he was seated in. He took most of the impact... and well," The man paused, staring at America with gritted teeth. "H-he's over there... let's just say he wasn't as fortunate as you were..."
America stared up at him in disbelief, he glaned over at the direction of two other men, lifting a body off of the ground, a sheet over it. America tugged his arms away and he limped towards the men and the sheet. He watched as he prepared to slip the body into the ambluance truck. "No!" America shouted, pulling on one of the men, and he stood by the side of the sheet. He removed the top, seeing a severely hurt England, his eyes gently closed. "E-England..." America's eyes became teary, the corners of his mouth quivering with grief. "I did this..." He muttered, tears falling from his face as he felt one of the men place a hand on his shoulder. "This is my fault..."
"Why didn't you just let me be the hero, you jerk..." Alfred grumbled, narrowing his eyes. "I brought you a picture. France told me that you were always mad at me because you couldn't protect me like you use to. This is what you get...but I thought you'd like some memories at your resting place. I brought an old picture of us." Alfred sighed, taking a picture out of his pocket, and he placed it down. "Who's going to make me burgers now?" He laughed silently.
"I will," A soft voice spoke.
Alfred tensed at the voice, and he turned around to stare at Canada. "C-Canada? What are you doing here?" Alfred had asked.
"You wanted someone to make you burgers right? England was just as important to me, so I thought maybe we could hang out? If you want. I know i'm pretty much invisible to you, but maybe we could?" Canada suggested, tightening his grip on Kumajiro.
Alfred stared at him for a few moments before smiling and nodding. "Alright, dude! But you have to make all the burgers, okay? And I need a diet coke, do you have any?" He asked, walking over to Canada and walking him out of the Graveyard.
"Well, no... but I have maple syrup." Canada stated.
"Bro, I don't think you can drink maple syrup..." Alfred said.
"Really? I do all the time."
A breeze whispered over the graveyard as the two brothers left. A ripped picture lay by a tombstone, one with a thick-eyebrowed man, and two little boys, one with brown-ish blonde hair, and the other a summer blonde. The cracked tombstone read in fine print ingraved into the stone;
R.I.P
Here lies:
Arthur "England" Kirkland
1991-2014
Author's Note:
Alrighty. This was my longest fanfiction so far, pretty sad, didn't make me cry or choke up, but it made Alfred cry. :T Wrong time for a joke, but I wasn't entirely proud of this. I wish I was a better writer. DX But I felt like I've been improving lately, but not as much as I want to. The ending was kind of crappy to me, I don't really know. I feel like everything I write, but the plot is always so scattered! It just goes everywhere, and then it's like, wait what just happened? It's not a very good transfer from memory to memory I know, I know. Hopefully, I can get inspired even more as the years go by. It'd be an incredible miracle! I would be so happy! I'm sorry for all the sorrow, but I'm not really good at writing happy things. I'm a depressing person. But happy endings are good for me, especially in sad situations. You must search in my troublesome depressing fanfictions for happy endings. I hide my happy endings unintentionally for some reason. Usually in death circumstances... just like in Brother, Don't leave me. I'm sorry for killing characters. I'm a murderer DX But then, they can't truly die beause I don't own the anime! So, this is a win-lose situation. I don't own the anime, nor work with the production, but England doesn't die. I need to stop writing, I'm sorry. Thank you for reading, and review if you want to. 3
