A/N: Written for a prompt on LiveJournal. Hope I didn't do too badly with it.
((Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia))
Hero's Are Supposed to Die First
He was dying.
Alfred repeated the thought, trying to digest it.
He was dying.
The blond stood silently in front of the hospital room, trying to wrap his mind around the thought.
He was dying. His little brother, his gentle baby brother Matthew, his Mattie-he was dying, and there was nothing Alfred could do to stop it. The young blond could scarcely breathe as the realization sunk in his heart.
Alfred looked down and realized that someone was holding his hand. He looked up, confused, and his blue eyes softened. His voice quivered.
"A...Arthur?"
Arthur was standing next to him, his hand firmly wrapped around Alfred's wrist. He looked tired, his hair mussy and a frown etched on his face. Francis was standing to Alfred's other side, gently squeezing his shoulder with his warm hand. He looked even worse than Arthur did.
Alfred wondered vaguely when the last time any of them had slept. How long ago had Matthew come to the hospital? How long had it been since the doctors had whispered to them that it would only be a few days before Matthew would slip away from this world, and there was nothing that anyone-not even God-could do? How long had it been?
"Alfred."
The blue eyed boy's eyes closed, and then opened again. He looked at Arthur and smiled weakly. "W-what is it, Arthur? Why do you look so beat?" he said shakily, trying hard to sound stronger.
At this, Arthur's frown deepened. He looked to Francis, who nodded. These two men, who had raised Alfred and Matthew, held a silent conversation.
After a moment, Arthur looked away and began to pull Alfred towards the hospital room, trying to get the blond into the room where his brother lay. "Alfred, you need to say goodbye to him." he said gently. "He doesn't have much time. The doctors, they-"
"They say that he will not make it through the night." Francis finished Arthur's sentence, squeezing Alfred's shoulder. "Mattieu has been calling you all this time, Alfred, but you have not seen him yet. Won't you go and say goodbye?"
Alfred shook his head, feeling heavier by the second. The smile on his face stayed in place, though Alfred could feel the tears coming quickly, and he knew that Francis and Arthur could see it. He pushed aside the hot tears and jerked away from the older two. "No, I...he can't die, Francis. He...He's Mattie. He never did anything wrong."
Francis did not reply. Before Alfred knew what was happening, the older two had pushed him into the room and shut the door, leaving him alone.
But he wasn't alone.
Alfred looked around the room. He looked at all the machines, at all the beeping contraptions that kept his brother alive. His heart sank when he caught sight of the thin blond on the bed, hooked up to countless machines. Slowly, he took a step foward.
Matthew looked over to Alfred. Alfred knew he could hardly move his head, and quickly, the older brother raced over to Matthew. "Mattie...!" he cried, grabbing Matthew's hand. "Mattie...Mattie! I'm so sorry! Mattie, please...!"
Through the mask, Alfred could see Matthew smile weakly. He said something, but whatever it was, Alfred couldn't hear. He was too busy sobbing, holding Matthew's hand, repeating Matthew's name over and over again, begging him not to leave. That he was supposed to be the hero, it wasn't supposed to end this way-that he was supposed to die first. That the hero always died sacrificing himself for his loved ones. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't. Alfred broke down into a million peices, pouring his heart out, begging and pleading and crying.
Matthew didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. When Alfred realized this, he just cried harder.
~
When Alfred awoke, it was to a loud, long beeping noise. There were nurses surrounding him, barking orders and jossling Alfred from where he knelt. Blinking groggily, Alfred let go of Matthew's hand, which was cold and dry. He felt a blanket being thrown over him, and looked up to see Francis, and his pained faced surprised the younger blond. Gently, he was pulled into a hug, and he felt another pair of arms join in. Arthur was there, too.
Alfred looked up and realized that his brother wasn't smiling anymore.