Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

The London Blitz

Rain was pouring down in the city of Washington DC. Rain had always been a painful thing for Arthur Kirkland. It always brought back the memory of that one time all those years ago. That, however, has no relevance to this story whatsoever.

Arthur, the personification of the United Kingdom, was here to visit his former colony and the secret love of his life, Alfred F. Jones. Alfred was the personification of the United States of America. Arthur had been in love with him since the first time they met when Alfred was still a small child. He knew that it was wrong, but he couldn't help his feelings.

Arthur's heart fluttered when the car he was riding in pulled up in front of America's house. He walked up to the door and hesitated to knock. He was nervous, as he hadn't seen his former colony since before the Great Depression. He was about to knock when suddenly the door opened, and there stood Alfred.

"Iggy!" he shouted, giving Arthur a hug, "You came to visit! Why didn't you tell me? How long are you gonna be here for? Why are you here? Is it to try and convince me to join the war? 'Cause, if it is then you are wasting your time. Or are you just here to see me? Or-"

"Shut up you twat! How the bloody hell can you ask all that without taking a single breath? And, how many times to I have to tell you not to call me Iggy before it gets trough that thick skull of yours?"

"Sorry, Artie. Anyway, how long are you gonna be here for?"

"Don't call me Artie either you git! And I shall only be here for-" England was cut off by a sudden burning pain in his chest.

"Iggy, are you ok?" Alfred asked, worried.

"I'm fine, America," said Arthur, but the pain was growing worse. Suddenly, the pain became unbearable and England collapsed, clutching his chest.

"England!" America screamed.

And suddenly, he heard the screams and felt the pain of his people. And he knew. London. London was being attacked, bombed by the damn German bastards. Arthur couldn't see or feel anything other than what his people were seeing and feeling. America may have called his name many times, but their was no way to hear him or even respond to him. The only thing he heard was screaming and the only thing he felt was pain. Pure, white-hot, unbearable pain. England then surrendered to the darkness that coaxed him toward it.

America was worried. England had said that he was fine, but he had collapsed to the floor screaming and clutching his chest. Alfred kept calling his name, but there was no response.

Suddenly, there was a gagging noise coming from England, and America saw that he was vomiting blood.

This was the moment that America's hero complex kicked in. He ran towards his former caretaker and turned him on to his side so that he did not choke on the blood. He held England as he writhed, screamed, and vomited. He knew that England was being attacked and he was going to get revenge on whatever bastard was hurting his love.

Yes, America was in love with England, had been for a very long time. He wasn't sure when he had started falling for the man, but he fell hard. He was, however, positive that Arthur didn't share his feelings.

Suddenly, England went limp in his arms and the vomiting and screaming ceased. He knew that Arthur was unconscious, and he was happy that the man had some peace after all the pain he just went through. All Alfred could do now was simply wait for England to regain consciousness. While he was waiting, he was going to call his boss and convince him to join the war. This, though, would not be an easy task.

The first thing that Arthur noticed when he awoke was that he was no longer on the floor, but in a nice, soft bed. The second thing he noticed was that he felt like he had been hit by a train. He also noticed a faint metallic taste in his mouth, as if he had eaten iron or some other metal.

"Arthur," a voice whispered, "I know you're up."

"Five more minutes mum," he mumbled, turning over. This, however was not a good idea seeing as pain shot through him. Arthur groaned.

"Hey!" the same voice said, "I'm the hero, not you're mom!"

That's when England opened his eyes and saw America sitting in a chair beside the bed.

"Anyway, the hero saved you! You would have choked on your own blood is it hadn't been for this guy!" Alfred said, pointing at himself.

"Git," England mumbled under his breath

"Love you too, Artie!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Ok, but seriously, I love you!" And America proved it with a kiss, and Arthur kissed back.

He knew that the attacks on his country weren't going to be just a one time thing, but now that he had Alfred, Arthur would never give up.

The End

AN: Sorry if this story is bad. I wrote it on a whim. This is also my first Hetalia fic, so there may be OOCness. Also, I barely did any research on the London Blitz, so if I'm wrong please tell me and I will fix it. Please review!