A/N: First Hetalia fanfic. I originally wrote this for an English project at school, so some parts might be vague (mostly the mentioning of the UN meeting). Inspired by God Only Threw the Humans Out of Paradise.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Hetalia...
Alfred petted the rugged pelt of a German Shepherd. Its eyes closed halfway, and the jowls of its now-white maw curled back to a human-like grin.
A small, sad smile etched across his face. He knew it was almost time; it happened every time he got a dog. No matter if it was a Lab, Yorkie, Dachshund, or even a Beagle. It all came down to a single thing. And each time it broke the man's heart.
His brother — ex-brother to be exact, but Alfred still considered him a brother even after what happened so many years ago — said he was an idiot and that he should have learned from his, multiple, past experiences. But the American waved him off.
"But, Iggy! Look at his cute, little face!" he cooed, shoving the fluffy German Shepherd puppy in the Brit's face. "You can't say no to this!"
And after much persuasion, and not to mention a good dose of puppy-dog eyes, the Briton relented.
"Fine!" he snapped, a scowl on his face. "Don't expect me to take care of it like your other dogs!"His eyes narrowed, "And it's Arthur, not Iggy!"
Alfred let out a sharp laugh at the familiar memory, and the old dog gave a weak bark and thumped his tail on the ground.
A hand settled on the American's shoulder. "You know you should lighten up. Matthew has started to worry about you," a voice with a heavy British accent, Arthur's no doubt, said.
"Matthew? When did he say that?"
"Right after the meeting with the others. He said you were acting weird during the meeting that you were holding. I had a half a mind to tell him that you always act like this, but then Kiku told me the same thing." He paused. "You need to get over whatever is going on with you."
"Like I can!" Alfred cried out, his dog whining softly at the harsh tone of his voice. "It's happening all over again! Every dog, Arthur! Every dog I lose! No matter what breed it is it always dies! It's not fair!"
Arthur stepped away from the man, his mouth open to retort and then closed it. No, he couldn't say what he always said to him, Alfred never really related, or listened, to anything that he said. He cleared his throat. He decided to try another, more personal, way.
"As you know, I used to have dogs. I had a couple when you were a lad, though you might not remember them. I even had the same trouble as yourself, being depressed when dog after dog died. But I then realized that you never truly leave them, forget them. You have your memories, and that's what counts." He scowled. "Now, straighten up and act like yourself! Your dog is still alive, isn't he?"
A silence occurred until a sniffle came from Alfred. "Aw, Iggy, that was such a great speech! I never knew you could make something up that was actually good!"
"Why you bloody—"
"I was just kidding with ya, Iggy. Relax. That speech of yours was actually pretty good." He looked down at the dog. "And I guess I really shouldn't be complaining since he's still here."
"Well, thank you, I guess. Now, how about we have some tea?"
Alfred snorted. "Nah, I'll just have some good ol' coffee."
"He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion." ~Unknown