Rise from the Ashes

By keisan

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. I just play with them and give them back only slightly tarnished.

Warning: Slightly graphic in terms of violence, character death(s) (no major Hetalia characters), AU, and slash later on. Story has not been beta-ed by anyone but myself, as I am writing it out as I go.

a/n: So this is what happens when one spends a bit too much time on Tumblr. Ideas abound! Fear not, I will be updating 'Long Way to Happy' soon! I'm a bit stuck there at the moment but hopefully this will help me dig myself out.

I'm an AmeCan shipper so if you've come here looking for USUK (anything more than a parental relationship), you'll be sadly disappointed. Also, human names will solely be used.

….

The smoke was thick and impenetrable, the heat was unbearable, and the noise was the worst, it was painful, filled with cries and sobs and shrieks of agony. This night wouldn't be forgotten by the families of this fire, a fire that roared and angrily consumed the homes and the inhabitants.

A young blue-eyed boy choked and coughed as he hunched over the bodies of his parents.

"Mom? Dad?" he choked out tearfully. "Please, please wake up." He pressed his ash-blackened hands against their bodies and curled his tiny fingers around their hands.

He coughed again and squinted as the flames licked up the remainder of the kitchen where his mother often made his favourite dinners, like hamburgers, and desserts, like chocolate chip muffins. A few more tears ran down his cheeks and he looked away from the flames crawling closer to him and the remains of his parents' bodies. He swallowed and debated if he should stay with them. Then they'd always be together. He lay on his mother's still chest, it was warm, but she'd stopped breathing a while ago.

The young boy's eyes slowly slid closed as the heat consumed the room and the air became scarcer and scarcer. Just then a crash sounded from the apartment door. The blond boy opened one eye slowly and made out the blurry figure entering the room. The seemingly large man wore black and yellow firefighter's gear and a mask. He held out a hand towards the boy, indicating he needed to go with him. The boy shook his head and curled into his dead mother's embrace and he slept.

Unbeknownst to the boy, the firefighter picked his slight body up and carried him out. He was brought to the ambulance and it was hours before he came to.

….

A pair of blue eyes slowly opened and the owner of those eyes let out a painful cough. Why does my throat hurt so bad? He wondered.

Almost immediately a glass of water was thrust into his hands. The boy took the glass and greedily gulped down the soothing coolness of the water. He glanced upward at whoever handed him the water and coughed as a stern looking woman gave him a firm look.

"Slowly. Don't choke," she told him in a thick European accent.

He nodded and drew the glass away from his mouth to sip more slowly. She nodded in approval and finally let a small smile escape. "Good. Now, what is your name? Do you know where you are from? Where you live? Where you go to school?"

"Alfred. Alfred F. Jones," the blond boy told her with a hint of pride.

She nodded and gave him a smile. "I'm Nurse Héderváry."

"I'm from New York City. I live on West 37th Street. I go to Lincoln Public School."

"Good. You didn't hit your head in the accident but we need to make sure the smoke didn't hurt you—that you remember everything."

"Remember… Mom? W-where's Mom? And Dad? I dreamt that something happened, that everything was too hot, we were burning in the fire, and we all went to heaven. Am I in heaven with them? Where are they?" Alfred's breath hitched and his eyes watered as he gazed up at the brunette woman.

Her green eyes shone with sympathy and pain. "Alfred… I'm so sorry sweetie."

Blue eyes widened and Alfred let out a wail. He felt agony bone-deep and that nothing would ever make it go away. He was ten years old, he was alone, and now, an orphan.

…

Their screams were desperate. "Alfred! Get up baby! We have to go!"

"Mom! Dad! What's happening?!" he cried.

"The door's stuck!" called out a man's voice, 'Dad,' thought Alfred.

"Alfie, hold your breath," his mother rasped out. "You have to make it out, baby."

"Mom!" Alfred grasped at her body, her blonde strands streaked with ash and smoke.

…

"MOM!" Alfred screamed out. He sniffled and let the tears fall again. What was he going to do? Where would he go now? He wondered.

"Here," and Alfred took the proffered glass of water.

Blue eyes peered upwards to see a shaggy-haired blond man with emerald green eyes and thick eyebrows.

Alfred squinted and stared at him warily, "Who are you?"

Green eyes narrowed before softening slightly, "My name's Arthur Kirkland." He spoke with an English accent.

"Well that doesn't really answer my question," Alfred commented feeling somewhat irritated with the stranger.

The stranger was fairing no better, "You need to learn some respect."

The boy glared, "Go away. I don't want you here."

"Fine!" Arthur retorted childishly and stood up abruptly. Then he remembered why he was here. He didn't like children but this boy needed someone. He'd just lost his family and he was alone. He sighed deeply and rubbed out the tension in his brow.

Arthur turned around to observe glowering boy, his arms crossed, jaw tight, and gaze directed to the window.

"Look," he began. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Arthur Kirkland and I'm the firefighter who saved your life."

Alfred turned and fixed his wandering gaze on him. Then he glared, "Why didn't you save my mom? Or my dad?"

Arthur swallowed and felt the guilt he'd been pushing away envelop him. He looked down, "I tried to. They—they were already gone when my team and I arrived. I'm so sorry."

The boy sniffled and he brushed away the tears. "But then you should have left me there. Where will I go now?" He asked helplessly. His eyes flicked up to the fireman's own for a moment and caught the array of emotions play across the man's features.

A feeling of guilt and responsibility filled Arthur at the question the boy posed. This was it. He had to do something for this boy. This lost boy who had no one and needed someone. He would not fail again.

Arthur cleared his throat, "Well, uh, I was thinking, you might stay with me. If you wish."

Alfred obviously wasn't expecting that and his jaw slackened for a second before he remembered himself. "You—you would let me?"

"That's what I said, didn't I? Do you not listen?"

Alfred scowled. "Jeez, I was just asking!"

"Well don't ask stupid questions!"

"Well then go away and stop lying to me!"

A look of outrage crossed the green-eyed man's face, "I am not lying! I meant it!"

Alfred crossed his arms and he thought it over for a moment and sighed, "Fine."

Arthur was about to yell again until he realised what the boy had actually said, "What?"

"I said fine! When are we going? I hate hospitals."

Arthur blinked and shook his head. What had he gotten himself into?

…

a/n: This chapter is giving a brief glimpse of the setting but the next chapter will take place further in the future. Please review, my lovelies!

P.S. I don't really know New York City very well, besides a brief trip from when I was in high school, so I assume that there might be a school called Lincoln but I have no idea if it's near West 37th or anything like that. Just take it as fictional!