…After all I've done for you…
As Alfred flipped burgers at work, he couldn't get Arthur's words out of his head. They were thick in the air like the grease was in the kitchen of McBurgers. At first they hit him in one revolting wave. Later they hung in the air. Now they stuck to his skin, and soon they would seep into his blood and spoil the optimism that Arthur suppressed every time he opened his mouth.
…After…
What about before? Alfred lowered another burger onto the grill, its grease sizzling loudly in protest for the first few seconds. You couldn't let me be by myself. You're so cruel that you intentionally hurt me for your own gain. Spotting traces of hamburger crumbs burnt to the grill, Alfred scraped at them with his spatula. Apparently, you weren't content with what you already had, but if ripping a part of me away would comfort you… Alfred flipped the burger, its grease splattering onto his arm. Instinctively, he dropped his spatula to smother the pain with his other hand. "That's no way to treat your brother."
…all I've done…
Alfred sighed as he left the grill. "Oh, Arthur." You've done too much. As he rummaged through the freezer, he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. After he found an ice pack, he put it over his burn and secured it there by tying the handkerchief around his arm. Still in pain, he rested his head against the door. You shackled me to yourself so you could control me. As the ice numbed the burn, he pushed himself off the door and slammed a tray down at the preparation station. Did you ever think I wanted to be better than you are? He slapped two buns on the table so hard that when he lifted his hands off of them, they resembled pancakes. Did you ever think that I didn't need you?
…for…
Placing the hamburger on the bun, Alfred grimaced. Other than offering me your disgusting scones, there has little you have done for me. As he put a head of lettuce on the chopping block, he took out a butcher's knife. When you're in a pinch, I help you. I'm the hero and you're the worthless sidekick. Raising his arms that felt like bricks, he began gently chopping the lettuce. "Maybe the reason you hate me so much is because you envy my success." He cradled a few slices of lettuce in his hands and carefully poured them onto the burger. You hate your brother.
…you…
"Yes." I am America. My beautiful, spacious skies float from sea to shining sea. My banner still waves because I am the land of the free and the home of the brave. Alfred pinched the two top corners of a slice of cheese and lowered it until it laid on top of the hamburger. After he watched the cheese melt onto the hamburger, he guided the burger onto the bun. "But I have you to thank. You made me who I am." There is no hero without a villain. He smashed the bun on top of the burger, completing the flat, messy excuse for food.
"Alfred-san?" a man called, tripping over a few boxes. "Alfred-san, Are you in there?"
"Yes, Wang-san," Alfred said.
The ponytailed man poked his smiling face around the corner and was met by the poor condition of Alfred's workstation. Burnt hamburger covered his grill, his skin was coated with a thin layer of grease, and lettuce laid strewn under his feet.
Wang nervously laughed, "I thought I heard you rambling in here. Do you have the burger I asked for?"
"Right here," Alfred slid down a tray with a hamburger so poorly made that it could have been mistaken for British cuisine.
"Uh," Wang's face cringed as he looked at the hamburger, "maybe you should get out of the kitchen for a while. You can take your lunch break after you sweep up outside."
Alfred took the broom and dragged himself to the outdoors eating area. He rhythmically swept his broom back and forth like the tick-tock of Big Ben. Next to him was a customer drinking iced tea. Arthur's persona was creeping into Alfred's surroundings. He heard an old man curse, a mother sing, and a little girl hum all the way Arthur did. Even the way Alfred was meticulously cleaning was like Arthur. Jeez, I can't get rid of him, even after I succeeded from him.
Alfred's remembered The Revolutionary War, his war for independence. Although Alfred had wanted independence from the start, he couldn't help but to pity Arthur as sat in the mud at his feet, drenched to the bone, unable to shoot Alfred.
After… all I've done… for you… it didn't even matter. I… I failed, dammit.
Overwhelmed with a thousand memories and great frustration, a headache hit him, and he pressed his hand against his temples to ease his pain. The harder he tried to shut out his memories of Arthur, the farther the pain spread.
His footsteps. Although he's nowhere in sight, I hear him coming. Tap, tap, tap, like exploding bombs. I'm defenseless. How can I deflect those fists loaded with knuckles? Hide. Hide in the corner, close my eyes, and listen to the impending doom. Tap, tap… The tapping stopped. As I open my eyes a crack, I see Arthur's feet in front of mine. I cried in fear. It hurt so much already; I didn't want to see the fists rushing to crush me. It hurt so much more when he was drunk. His footsteps…
"Yo, Alfred," a man said.
Startled, Alfred clutched onto his broom tighter and looked up the man standing in front of him. He had been so deeply immersed in his flashback that he had only heard someone coming, but never saw someone stop in front of him.
"Wha– Arthur! Don't sneak up on me like that." Alfred turned his back to Arthur to sweep the better half of the eating area, the half Arthur wasn't on.
"Did I give you a fright?" Arthur taunted but received a cold glare. Recognizing Alfred wasn't in a good mood, Arthur gave up his hopes of further harassing him. "I was standing here for a time, wondering why you were cleaning."
"I work at McBurger's. I'm just doing as Wang-san says."
"Oh, Wang-san is your boss?"
Why are you interested? Alfred turned to look at Arthur, hoping to either read his emotions or scare him away. "I had some debts I needed to repay Wang-san so he gave me a job," Alfred said. "Wang-san is a good boss. He cares about me. If I mess up, he gentle corrects me. When I need help, he's by my side. We work together to solve a problem. After all I've done for him, it was the least he could do."
Arthur watched Alfred slowly sweep the ground. Normally, he would clean as fast as he could to get the job done, leaving half the mess behind for Arthur to pick up. After all I've done for you… He remembered Alfred's smile when he tried something new, his sadness when Arthur patted him on the head before he left, and his fear when… it's still not enough.
"Hey, if you need some money…" Arthur's hand searched his pocket.
"No, no, no," Alfred held out his hand to stop him, "I don't want to borrow money from anyone else."
"No, I'm repaying you, and damn you if you reject it," Alfred held out an envelope. "Take it."
Alfred looked at the envelope, the heavy thick envelope. "When did you borrow that much money?"
"Back then," Alfred retracted the envelope to his side and his voice became quieter as he said, "when… we were brothers."
It wasn't often that Arthur spoke in a soft voice; his usual voice was condemning and harsh unless he was comfortable with someone or spoke from his heart. Arthur wished he could go back to the days when he loved Alfred without fear and wished Alfred felt the same way. We were brothers, but Alfred chose his own path, and if that's a path without me by his side…as long as it makes him happy…
Alfred sensed turmoil in Arthur as he stared at the man look past him in silence. A smile spread on Alfred's lips as he gave in to one of his soft spots: seeing Arthur in pain. He leaned his broom against the table and walked over the Arthur. Alfred stood close to Arthur that they could feel the other's body heat and gently slipped the envelope out of Arthur's hand. As he put it in his own pocket, he watched Arthur's fail hand lay at his side in the same position as if he was still holding the envelope. Inside Arthur's mind, uncertainty molded into fear untangled with strong feelings to act on but no courage to do so.
"Arthur," Alfred wrapped his arms around him, surprising the older man which caused him to fumble, "we're still brothers."
Arthur was unaware of what to do with his hands trapped at his side because a man clung to him. "W-We don't act like it."
"Wha–," Alfred pulled away from the hug. "We? I act brotherly to you all the time and try my best to be nice to everyone, not that I can say the same about you." Alfred crossed his arms and huffed much like a child. "Brothers don't refuse to hug each other."
"Refused? But–I couldn't hug you back while you were strapped around me so tightly that I couldn't move my arms. Do you ever think things through? Bah, you're a damn capricious fool."
Alfred unpredictably laughed at his comment, startling Arthur. "I guess we do act like brothers."
"How so?" Damn bugger, his logic is always off.
"Well," Alfred smiled, "we argue like brothers."
"Ah," Arthur cracked a smile from Alfred's attempt to find common ground, "so we do."
Alfred noticed Arthur's messy hair and glazed eyes, remembering Arthur look like that after meeting with France. Those were the days he usually got drunk.
"Hey, Arthur, you don't look so good," Alfred said. "Let's go get some coffee across the street."
"How about some tea?" Arthur teased. "You're still mad about that?"
"Oh, that? No. It's just that…" Alfred refrained himself from carrying out his thoughts any farther. "After all you've done for me, I can't hold a grudge."
Arthur looked down to hide himself blushing. "Damn you for that. It will be your undoing."
"It might," Alfred said and took Alfred's hand, "But I'll take the chance. Now, come on. Let's go."
Alfred began tugging Arthur along too quickly, and Arthur tripped over his own feet. "S– Slow down, I'm not as young as you."
"Don't stop in the middle of the road. Come on," Arthur pulled him faster.
"Alfred, you're going to–"
Before Arthur could finish his thought, Alfred tripped, bringing Arthur down with him in the middle of the road. Arthur tried to get up, but Alfred's shoelace loophole got caught around his foot.
"Alfred, help get my foot untangled."
"I'm trying! It doesn't help with your hands in the way."
"My hands? What about yours?"
Both of them fidgeted around with shoelace until it came undone. Arthur turned around and saw that a car would hit them in a few seconds if they didn't move. As soon as Alfred got up, Arthur pushed him out of the car's way and onto the curb.
"Well, I'll be damned. You really did trip," Arthur said hunched over, trying to catch his breath. "I told you I was too old to be doing that sort of thing."
"I'm surprised we got ourselves out of that one. You make a good sidekick." Alfred said, unaffected by the incident. He stood up and inspected Arthur, noticing he was lifting up his right foot. "Are you hurt?"
"Don't fuss over me," Arthur said shooing him away. Alfred bent down and pulled up the hem of Arthur's pants. "Good lord, get out of there."
"It's swelling," Alfred said as he stood up. By the time Arthur opened his mouth, Alfred had already picked him up, cradling him like a child. "I don't want you to do anything else to it."
"Forget about my ankle, my bloody pressure is the one suffering. Now let me go," Arthur said. Alfred didn't say anything in response; he just walked forward. Arthur knew arguing the younger stubborn nation would be useless so he exasperated and swung his arm around Alfred's neck to hold himself up. "You may be a fool, but you're the nicest damn fool I know."
Alfred stopped in front of the café and peered down into Arthur's eyes. He couldn't think of anything to say; he didn't want to. Instead, he wanted to let Arthur's words linger in the air a couple moments longer.
Alfred was about to let Arthur down, but Arthur wrapped his other arm around Alfred's neck. "Alfred…we had so much fun together when we were younger, at least I did…could we…" He suddenly felt the pain rushing back of when Alfred first left him. Alfred had pried Arthur's had off his own in order to gain independence. Another nation was born into this world and another left like dying. Europe was a dreadful place for Arthur, not to mention he was isolated on an island with no friends, only enemies. Arthur would waste his days away sipping tea, thinking about Alfred and how well things were going with him. There came a day when he couldn't take the solitude anymore; he wanted his joy back in his life, his Alfred.
Alfred set him down only to hug him. "Yes, Arthur, we can try things again. I'll not only be an ally, but a friend." Alfred let Arthur's weak embrace melt into his warm body, showing him what it meant to be brothers. He wanted to be his comforter, helper, and happiness once again.
"Thank you," Arthur said, looking around, "but let go. People are gawking."
One man in particular was staring the most. With a bottle of wine in one hand, he watched the two awkwardly hold each other.
"Ah, is this love I see? So he did take my advice," the man took a sip of the wine. "France-niichan knows best. Now I can watch their heartbreaking love blossom and soon we will all be united in love, just as brothers should be."
After all I've done for you…
It's still not enough.
Author's Note: Although I only editted this a thousand times, it probably has many minor errors in it. I'm not very happy with this. The first half is so angsty and I have no experience writing angst. I think I went OOC then. The second half is better, although cliche. What do you guys think?