A/N: Hey guys, I'm finally updating this story...and that update is a total rewrite. They premise is the same but later chapters will not be. I promised you guys that I would get back and here I am! It's been a long time and for that I apologize. I never anticipated that I would be so engrossed in my college life. It's taken up most of my time and when I find free time, all I want to do is sleep. But now, my schedule is pretty laid back! I can't give you specific dates on when an upload will be but maybe next Wednesday? I don't know but expect more (I intend to finish this story). By the way, I changed the point of view to 3rd person, it's just easier to read that way and looks better. For those curious...I don't know whether or not to make this a relationship story...My original intention was to make this about camaraderie and changing ones ways, like a friendship story. However, if you guys wanna me to write a Germany and America romance story than hell, I'll do it. But only if you guys want it! If no one says anything than the original plan will continue. Thanks for your time and enjoy the fic!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. If I did I wouldn't be here. Don't you guys think it's redundant to put a disclaimer on a fan fiction website? Like duh, of course I don't own it...
Chapter 1: War is Hell
Boom! The canon whizzed through the air and came crashing down with a mighty explosion. The canon's shrapnel went everywhere, piercing fellow soldiers. It was a gruesome sight to see, but it's something you would expect to come out of a war. How terrible mankind can be. Click, Alfred arms his gun and stands up from the makeshift barrack. There, a man with a gun…my target. Alfred aims and hits with striking accuracy. The unknown man falls backwards and the threat it eliminated. Alfred quickly sits back down and a hand slaps his shoulder.
"Good job, eh! You get them German bastards Alfred!" A smile is offered. It's a friend whom Alfred met at training camp. His name was Matthew Williams, a Canadian born soldier. He was shy at first when entering the camp, not talking to anyone. As a matter of fact, no one actually even noticed his existence…hmm…maybe Alfred should suggest he take a job as a spy?
"Thanks! It's not hard to spot them with those horns growing on their heads!" Matt, as Alfred liked to call him, chuckled. "Only you could make a joke in a time like this, Al" another smile was offered.
The sound of recognizably angry Germans filled the air. Damn, backup was needed, and fast. Alfred checked his belt for any grenade or weapon he could use, but felt nothing. 'I should have saved them' he thought.
"Matt. Got any grenades on you?" Matt checked his belt. "Yeah. One." There was a sigh of relief and Alfred motioned for him to give it to him. As Alfred stood up to throw it, Matt grabbed his arm.
"Hold on! What are you going to do, eh?!" He yelled at Alfred. "Just follow me when I throw it, ok Matt?"
Alfred took off the tag holding its terrible power and threw it straight towards the enemy. It was a direct hit and for once Alfred was happy he took those baseball-throwing lessons. The smoke filled around the area and he grabbed Matt and ran like a bat out of hell to the nearest safe haven. We found a bomb beaten house and ran in. Alfred caught his breath and looked around. There were stairs and Alfred motioned Matt to follow him up there. Slowly they walked up, in shooting position; you never know who might there. We stopped at the last stair looking around…no one.
"Alright, we can take a breather for a second. Matt, take the sniper and station next the window, would ya?" He nodded and took the sniper from Alfred's hands. Alfred knew there was no one there but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was lurking in the shadows. He stood up from Alfred's spot and moved towards the window. It was then that Alfred noticed a large closet. He slowly walked to it, his footsteps as silent as a mouse. He reached for the knob and slowly turned it. His gun was ready and he pulled the door open…there was no one inside…Just heavy coats.
'Hmm. I could have sworn-' Alfred's thought ended when a man came bursting out of the hanging garments. They struggled with each other and Alfred managed to get on top of mystery attacker. They both had their fists out ready to punch each other, but then Alfred noticed a familiar face.
"Arthur?!" It was unmistakable. Those eyebrows were huge! The man stopped struggling, "Alfred? Alfred! Oh, by the queens name, I thought you were a German!" He slapped Alfred on the head and scolded him.
"You blubbering fool! I could have killed you!" Alfred stared at him and laughed. "Oh really? Who had the upper hand?" Arthur dismissed him with a wave of his hand and stood up.
Arthur Kirkland was the squadron's commander. Needless to say, him and Alfred were war buddies despite them being different. They were a team of international soldiers, only the best of the best from each allied country. At least, that how Alfred described it, no one has died in there team yet.
During the struggle to keep the front line a few days back, they all got separated. Alfred happened to find Matt by chance when advancing German troops made him take into hiding in a bush.
He helped Arthur up from the dusty beaten up wood, and led him back to the temporary base.
"Hey Matt! Look who I found!" Matt turned around and at seeing the commander he jumped and ran to hug him. Arthur was not a lovable man, but when it came to Matt, you couldn't help but let the little guy do what he wants. He was just too nice to yell at.
"Well, well. Looks like the gang is getting back together again. Glad to see the both of you are not injured."
"Iggy, where's the rest of the squadron?" Alfred asked.
Arthur gave him a death glare. "First off, don't call me Iggy, it's a rather unflattering nickname. Second, I don't know. When we got separated I was with Francis. The French bastard took off to god knows where. When I get my hands on him I'll-"
Alfred put up his hands, "Alright, Alright. Save your French remarks Captain, we got bigger problems. We have to maneuver around the German front and find Francis."
Francis Bonnefoy was the squadron's special short-range shooter specialist. If you couldn't tell by the name, he is French. During his and Alfred's time in the camp, Francis caused quite the stir. The camp called for haircuts, preferably a buzz-cut or at least modest. Francis loved his long blond hair and he simply couldn't do it. So, he did what any Frenchman would do to get out of any problem, he charmed the barber. It was disgusting to watch at first, but when he got the ok to keep it, we all had a big laugh about it and applauded his effort.
"Matt, how does it look out there?" Alfred whispered.
Matt sat down where he was crouching, "Not too good, the Germans are patrolling around the perimeter, and they don't look nice at all!"
Arthur cursed to himself. What were they going to do? It's not like this place has a secret path out of here!
"Hey! Come take a look at this, eh!" It was coming from the room next to this one. Had Matt just walked away like that? So silently? Damn, he needed to pay more attention to this man.
We stood up from our positions and walked to the adjacent room. Matthew was there looking into what looked like a small makeshift elevator. "I think it leads outside! Lets go through it!"
Arthur scoffed at the Canadian, "Are you mad? It's…It's dark down there!" Matthew turned around.
"We have to try. Our survival depends on it."
Arthur sighed. We had no choice. One by one we went down, the crank squeaking with weariness. Alfred gulped, he hated small spaces. When he got out of the small pulley, he looked around the underground tunnel. Pure darkness…and no flare lit.
"H-hello? Matt? Iggy?"
Then a red blinding light, "DON'T CALL ME IGGY!"
Alfred yelped and Matt quickly put a hand around his mouth. "Hush! The Germans could hear us, eh!" He removed his hand.
He let out a breath and gave Iggy a long hard stare. "For your information, you didn't scare me, your eyebrows did." Iggy laughed at his retort.
Crawling was backbreaking. By the time they found an exit they're knees and hands were filthy and sweaty.
"Alright, Alfred let me get on top of your shoulders so I can get out. When I see that the coast is clear I'll lift you out and then Al." It was great plan. This is why he's squad leader he praised to himself.
When the coast was clear, Arthur came back and lifted Matt out of the hole, then later Alfred. They crouched into the nearest bushes. It wasn't the greatest hiding spot but it would have to do.
"What's the status Matt?" We heard rustling as Matt looked out.
"Oh no…" we stared up at Matt, "What? What do you see?" He crouched back down.
"It's Yao. The Germans have captured our Chinois friend"
Damn. What else could go wrong? Alfred sighed and took off his glasses. They were dirty from all the grime they've gone through in the tunnel. Matt's glasses didn't even have particle of dust on them. He'd have to tell him his secret.
"Alright. Here's what we do, we make a diversion and while the Germans are distracted we get Yao out of there and the same goes for us. Got it?"
"Yes sir!"
We had a smoke grenade in hand and Arthur started the countdown.
"When I count to three, got it Al?" I nodded.
"One…two…thr-"
"Ça va. What are we counting for?" That voice, that French freaking voice. We turned around.
"Francis!"