Happy Fourth of July, everyone! I thought that I should write something to my latest OTP today..(I mean...it wouldn't make much sense to adore this pairing and NOT post something today, right?)
So, here we go~! No flames, please! They're mean!
Summary: It was Alfred's birthday. Arthur always hated this day, and he was going to show Alfred just how much. US/UK, song-fic to Avril Lavigne's "When You're Gone".
Warnings: Failed angst and FLUFFINESS!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia...and I never will.
When You're Gone
Arthur Kirkland sighed and took another sip of-What am I drinking?-the...beverage...that he was drinking before sighing again. It was America's birthday. Figures. One day it was gone, and the next it was back again. England really couldn't stand the thought of his former colony leaving him. Abandoning him. Making him feel lost and insecure and spend many sleepless nights sobbing into his pillow.
Alone.
The Englishman shifted uncomfortably in his seat. They were in America's house, that rather large, sprawling mansion-like house of his (but then again, he was a country. Every country had a house like that...probably). The party was mainly taking place in the bar (yes..he had a bar. Typical.), and that was where England currently resided. On a bar stool, drinking...What am I drinking again?
He had been alone for some time now. Sitting on that bar stool, no one taking notice of him. America had greeted him when he had (reluctantly) came through the door, but that was about it. Ironic. The day I need comforting the most, I get it the least. Arthur's lip quivered slightly. He hadn't-and still didn't-know how to cope when Alfred, the boy he had raised and loved with all his heart, was gone.
And to make matters worse, the Brit didn't love Alfred like the "boy he loved and raised" anymore.
How awkward was that?
Arthur lost himself in his inner thoughts until a hand came around and clamped him on the shoulder. He allowed his heart to leap for a second, before he turned and realized it was only Francis.
"Oh. It's you," the Brit added extra respite to the last word, and Francis blinked before placing a hand to his heart.
"You wound me so, Anglaterre! I was merely going to ask how you were doing on this wonderful night!" Francis slung an arm around the Englishman. Arthur kicked him in the face. Francis groaned and stood, rubbing his face with his right hand and slipping into the seat next to Arthur.
"That hurt," the Fenchman groaned, but Arthur could sense the humor lacing his words. Then, "You avoided my question, England." Arthur looked over at France and saw the genuine concern in his eyes, even if he was doing his best to hide it.
"I...," the Brit trailed off. "How do you think I feel, France?" Arthur took a swig from the bottle in his hands and slammed it down against the counter. "It's Alfred's bloody birthday."
Francis smiled and let his chin rest on his hand. "I thought so. See, the perverted moi can be caring." Then his expression grew serious. "Alfred is looking for you."
Arthur snorted and chugged down another bit of his drink. "Looking for me. Ha, bloody ha. It's his birthday. That bloody git wouldn't care about me today of all days, and if he did, it would probably be to brag and make all sorts of snide comments about the Revolution." Tears stung at the Brit's eyes and threatened to fall. "Damn it! Why is it taking so bloody long to get drunk?"
Francis blinked. "You don't..." The Frenchman, for once, was at a loss for words. Then he exhaled. "How do you feel towards Amerique, England? I mean...really?" England glanced over. That annoying smirk had returned to France's face, and Arthur suddenly felt the need to punch him in the gut. Amazing how just someone's face can make you want to do that.
Instead, he just said, "Where's...what's his name again? America's brother."
"Matthieu," Francis's voice was laced with warning. If anything was able to tick the Frenchman off, it was forgetting Canada's name.
"Yes, him," Arthur sighed, completely ignoring Francis's death glare. "Shouldn't you be with him?"
France waved a finger in his face. "Ah, mon cher, you see, it was la petite Matthieu that wanted me to come over and see if you were alright. This is all his idea, I swear." France placed his elbows on the countertop and turned to look at England menacingly. "Evasive tonight, aren't you, England. Now answer my question."
Arthur blushed slightly and gulped. God, he hoped France didn't notice. "W-what was it again?"
France smirked. "I asked how you felt towards Amerique."
England felt his breath hitch in his throat. He couldn't tell France the truth, bloody hell, anything but the truth! He winced at the thought of the other nation finding out that he even had feelings for the most obnoxious country in the world. And France didn't know how to keep a secret. "I have...no idea what you're talking about," Arthur responded pathetically, sipping his drink.
France was having none of that. "Hm. Really?"
"Yes, you wanker, really," England sighed in exasperation. This was getting to be really annoying. Where was Canada when you needed him?
France needed to get this information out of him. Not that his feelings towards America weren't apparent already, but he had to hear it from him. "Hey, look," France pointed in a random direction. "There's America!"
England whipped his head around. "Wha-?" Then, realizing his mistake, he turned, mortified, towards a heavily grinning France.
"That's cheating, France!"
"I knew it!" Francis chirped and raised his hands in the air, as if he had just claimed some fresh new vital regions. Arthur grumbled something about "that blasted frog" under his breath. "Anglaterre is in love with Amerique! Anglaterre is in love with Amerique!" Francis sang and skipped around England.
"That's real mature, France. Seriously, stop it," Arthur said, struggling to talk louder over Francis's singing. Francis stopped and grinned madly at Arthur. Arthur kicked him in the face again.
France quickly recovered and sat back down next to England. Arthur, blushing madly, said, "So what if I am?" Francis smiled.
"I think you should tell him. Do us all a favor," Francis sighed. Arthur had a mini mental spaz attack.
"What! Everyone knows?" the Brit squeaked. France rolled his eyes.
"No offense, Iggy, but it really is kind of obvious. To everyone except America, that is," Francis got up and patted Arthur on the back. "You should tell him."
At that very moment, Prussia got up on the stage and announced on a microphone, "All right, peoples! The awesome me has an announcement for all of you! We're starting karaoke now, so if anyone wants to sing a song, get up here." Then, he added almost bitterly, "Happy birthday, America."
Francis got a huge smile on his face.
"Oh, no," England groaned. "You only get that face when you have an idea and you're going to drag me into it." The Englishman placed his head on the counter and groaned aloud. It should have disturbed him that he knew France that well, but...he had other things on his mind.
France turned to England and said, "You should sing a song for Alfred."
England forcibly spat his drink right back out. "Ex-excuse me?"
Francis's face grew solemn. "I mean it, England. He'll never know how you feel-how you felt when he left you-if you don't sing. And you have to pick the right song, too." The Frenchman winced as someone got up on stage and began singing a drunken rendition of Miley Cyrus's "Party in the USA". England winced, too.
Arthur sighed and looked at France. "What if he doesn't feel the same?"
France rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess we're going to find out now, aren't we."
And with that, Francis dragged the protesting Arthur backstage and began planning what the Frenchman called, "Operation: Revolution."
~WhenYou'reGoneWhenYou'reGone~
What the bloody hell have you gotten yourself into this time, Arthur Kirkland?
Thus was England's train of thought as Russia finished singing some sort of mixture between rap and rock (it creeped him out) and France came on stage to introduce the next singer, which was, sadly, the Brit himself. Arthur looked out into the stage and saw America, sitting at the very front of the stage. He cursed his bad luck.
"Now, mon amis, we will be slowing things down for now. So if you would like to grab your lover and dance more romantically, feel free to do so!" Nobody in the room missed France's wink towards a blushing Canadian. "The next singer will be singing one of those sad, romantic, heart-felt-"
A shoe came from backstage and struck France in the head. A couple giggles and chuckles escaped the crowd. Francis rubbed his head and cursed lightly, then, his smile returning to his face said, "Alfred! You out there?"
America raised his hand and grinned, taking a bite out of his hamburger. "Present!"
"Once again, America, I bid you joyeux anniversaire, happy birthday, my friend," France smiled and America thanked him, laughing. "Tonight, we have a song dedicated to you!" America choked on his hamburger.
"Huh?"
"Yes, you heard correct, Amerique! This singer has dedicated this next song to you, and...," Francis's face grew scarily serious. Alfred gulped. "I suggest you pay attention to the goddamn lyrics, America." France then beamed radiantly and went backstage. The audience stared blankly in shock and awe.
"Was that really necessary?"Arthur shot death glares at the grinning Frenchman, who was messing with the karaoke machine.
"You're on in five..." France counted. Arthur clung to his microphone and stepped onto the dark stage. It was so dark that no one could see who had just stepped on stage, and everyone was clamoring to get a glimpse of the person that dedicated a song to America. (Well, it was his birthday.)
"...four..." Arthur gulped. Maybe he shouldn't do this.
"...three..." No turning back now, he told himself. This is your chance to show Alfred exactly how you feel.
"...two..." Almost there...
"...one!" Francis pressed play. The soft piano introduction played, and the stage, disappointedly, was still dark.
Then, taking one final breath, England began to sing.
"I always needed time on my own
I never thought I'd need you there when I cried..."
The audience, and Arthur for that matter, were surprised at the beauty of the mystery man's voice. Then, the spotlight beamed to life and pointed at Arthur, to reveal him standing still and beet red, getting ready for the next couple words. Alfred's breath hitched in his throat.
"And the days feel like years when I'm alone
And the bed where you lie
is made up on your side..."
Alfred watched the emotion that Arthur sang with, the beauty, the intensity. Arthur felt all of his built-in emotions flooding out, all of the rage, torment, love, care...He needed to let America know.
"When you walk away, I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now?"
Arthur could feel tears threatening to fall. He refused to allow them to. For the chorus, he looked up at America, who seemed, for once, entirely speechless.
Arthur didn't know that was because he had taken the American's breath away.
"When you're gone,
The pieces of my heart are missing you
When you're gone,
The face I came to know is missing too
When you're gone,
The words I need to hear to always get me through the day
And make it okay..."
The audience didn't even bother to try slow-dancing with their partners. They were to captivated in Arthur and Alfred. And it was apparent to the two that they were the only ones in the room as well.
"I miss you."
Alfred felt warmth on his cheek and realized he was crying. In that fleeting moment, he realized something that had always been in the back of his mind, but never found until now. I love you. I miss you, too.
"I've never felt this way before
Everything that I do
Reminds me of you..."
Arthur let one tear slide down his cheek. He'd chosen well. This song described everything-past and present-between him and America.
"And the clothes you left that lie on my floor
And they smell just like you
I love the things that you do...
When you walk away, I count the steps that you take..."
Alfred took his glasses off and wiped his face on his bomber jacket. He'd had no idea about the pain and the suffering England had gone through after he had left him. America had always thought that England was okay, that he would be fine without him. Apparently not. Was it just me that was blind? Am I the only one that didn't see you suffering silently? England...
"Do you see how much I need you right now?"
Arthur was crying now, but miraculously, it wasn't affecting his singing.
"When you're gone,
the pieces of my heart are missing you
When you're gone,
the face I came to know is missing, too
When you're gone, the words I need to hear
To always get me through the day
And make it okay...
I miss you..."
England gripped the microphone and closed his eyes, feeling the truth and intensity and all of his tears and thoughts and feelings blending in to sing the next verse. He needed America to know, even if he didn't feel the same way...
"We were made for each other
Out here forever
I know we were..yeah..."
Alfred had dropped his hamburger by now. Arthur was singing with true emotion, and it all hit him hard. He suddenly knew exactly how Arthur felt-painful, abandoned, lonely, cold, and all he did was tease and brag about what a better country America was from his. Alfred wanted to kill himself for being such a bloody git.
"And all I ever wanted was for you to know
Everything I do, I give my heart and soul
I can hardly breathe
I need to feel you hear with me..."
England took a deep breath for the next part. Tears rolled down his cheeks. If I wasn't half-drunk, would I have been able to do this? I wonder if it will be worth it in the end...
"When you're gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
When you're gone
The face I came to know is missing, too
When you're gone,
The words I need to hear to always get me through the day
And make it okay..."
Arthur paused and looked the tearful Alfred in the eye.
"I miss you."
And with that, the song ended, and Arthur, feeling embarrassed, dropped his microphone, and ran off the stage sobbing. America stood up, shocked and wondering why on earth England had run, and then turned to the audience, half of which were crying. When they noticed the American looking at them with a look that said "Help me", every single country present shouted:
"WELL, CHASE AFTER HIM, YOU DICK!"
Alfred jumped, then, leaping onto the stage, made a mad dash to find exactly where the hell the object of his affections went.
The rest of the countries mumbled underneath their breaths. Suddenly they all felt like reminding their loved ones that they were still there, and that they still loved them.
Because they never knew when that one person they loved more than life itself would be gone.
Francis placed a soft kiss to Matthew's lips. Matthew then hugged Francis tightly and refused to let go.
Feliciano hugged Ludwig and whispered in his ear over and over, "I love you, Ludwig, I love you, Ludwig..I love you so much". Ludwig sighed and ran his hands through the Italian's hair fondly.
Antonio placed his arms around Lovino's waist, and despite his protests, managed to keep them there. Lovino wouldn't admit it, but having Antonio there, with his arms wrapped around him like that...it made him feel happy.
Kiku dropped his video camera when Heracles bent down and kissed him on the cheek. Kiku, blushing, went to pick the camera back up and, covering the camera's viewer, managed to place a full kiss on Heracles's lips.
Ivan looked over at Yao and gave him a look that said "May I?" and Yao, exasperated, sighed and allowed Ivan to burst into a full-blown make-out session with him.
Elizaveta and Rhoderich sat in a far corner of the room, holding hands, simply enjoying each other's presence. (Although Elizaveta had had a nosebleed earlier from Arthur's song.) Elizaveta then beat a drunken Gilbert over the head with a frying pan when he drawled, "Threesome?"
Toris and Feliks were enjoying each other's company, wrapped in each other's arms.
They all expressed their love one way or the other. England's song was moving, and they couldn't help but wonder, What would happen if I was in his place?
They all hoped that America and England could find their happy ending as well.
~WhenYou'reGoneWhenYou'reGone~
America huffed, taking in huge amount of air. His search for England had brought him to the garden outside, since everywhere else he could have gone from backstage were empty.
He began running around the garden in search of the Brit. "Iggy!" America called. No answer. "Come on, England! I need to talk to you!" Alfred was getting desperate, when-
Bam!
Arthur and Alfred collided, falling to the cobblestone ground with a thud. Arthur blinked, then began to cry again. Alfred's eyes softened and he threw his arms around Arthur and held him tightly.
"I'm so sorry, Arthur," Alfred sobbed into the Englishman's shoulder. Arthur's eyes widened. Alfred took a deep breath.
Then it all came out.
"I had no idea what you went through after I left. Honestly. You...I'm so sorry about everything I've ever done to you. All the insults, everything," America's voice cracked. England slowly put his arms around the other man's shaking form, and felt his own warm tears sliding down his face.
"I missed you, too," Alfred said. Then, he pulled away, and crashed his lips against Arthur's. Arthur fel like he was overheating and having a heart attack at the same time, but he eventually kissed back, taking comfort in the American's touch.
Alfred was the first to pull away. "I love you, Iggy."
England looked into America's sky blue eyes and, for the first time, spoke. "So much it hurts?"
America nodded violently. "So much it hurts. And I can't stand the thought of not being with you, because I love you."
England then cried again, but this time, they were tears of joy.
~WhenYou'reGoneWhenYou'reGone~
Alfred and Arthur re-entered the bar, Alfred back to his usual smiling self, Arthur blushing like mad, hand-in-hand. All the inhabitants of the bar looked at the two of them, and silence fell over the entire bar. Then:
"Ve~! So what happened?"
"Congratulations, Arthur-san! Alfred-san! We're all so very happy for you."
"Like, that's the best birthday present you can get, America. Don't totally waste it, okay?"
"C-congratulations, Alfred, A-Arthur."
"Who?"
"MY NAME IS MATTHEW. I. AM. CANADA, GODDAMN IT!
"Congratulations, mon chers! " Francis stood and gestured towards the new couple. "And you have me to thank, Alfred." Francis raised his arms dramatically. Alfred rolled his eyes, but smiled nevertheless.
"Thanks, Francis. Everyone. This is definitely my best birthday ever," America smiled and looked at England, who turned even redder at the statement.
Feliciano raised his hand in the back.
"Yeah, Italy?" America said.
"Kiku also promised us all copies of Arthur's performance and what happened in the garden! It will be amazing; I can't wait to watch it, ve~!" Feliciano cheered.
Silence.
"Uh...did I say something wrong?"
Arthur and Alfred slowly turned towards the Japanese man who was currently trying to make himself invisible behind Heracles.
"YOU PROMISED THEM ALL WHAT, KIKU?"
"Wow, Kiku...and I thought you were innocent..."
"Um...It was Elizaveta's idea!"
"It was not! I mean...well...yeah..it kind of was..."
"WILL EVERYONE JUST BLOODY SHUT UP SO THAT I CAN KILL ALL OF YOU WANKERS?"
America smiled as all hell broke loose. He was going to remember this birthday. Now, nothing seemed to matter anymore. Nothing but him and Arthur's happiness. Independence Day was his day after all, and he was never going to let Arthur feel that way again whenever he was gone.
...I'll have to ask Kiku for a copy of that DVD as a birthday request.
It's over...yes! And, yes! Once again, I epically FAIL at fluff! And the ending sucked, I know! This took me so long to write, but it was so much fun! I'm kinda sad it's over now...My arms hurt! Now I'm off to go enjoy some fireworks! ;D See you guys around!
Please review kindly and NO FLAMES. R & R! I feed off of reviews!
Happy Independence Day, Alfred! ~ 3
LoveHateLove,
Blank Paiges ^^