A/N: Welcome readers, to my first Avengers/Hetalia fic. I'm gonna keep this note short, but please be free to rate/review as you feel the need to. And please be nice by trying not to flame or anything ^^

Anyways, um, read ahead! Unfortunately, I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers, nor do I own The Avengers or anything involved in the Marvel universe, both belong to their respective owners.

February 1941

Shit, I'm gonna be late! A young man raced down the chilly sidewalks of Washington, D.C, abruptly turning corners and carefully weaving through crowds crossing the streets. His blonde hair moved with the wind, particularly a certain blonde strand that refused to obey the laws of gravity. He wore a pair of gray slacks with a white shirt and a tan sweater, topped with a blue blazer and a red bow tie. The blonde frantically looked at his watch, hoping his boss wouldn't mind a slight delay in their private meeting. Let's see, one turn to the right, and I'll be there... or is it left?

Alfred felt a light tap on the shoulder. "Young man, you look awfully confused. Do you need help?"

Confused, he started to turn around, "Er, n-no, but thanks for the- Eleanor! Um, I mean, Mrs. Roosevelt! Didn't expect to see you out on the streets, ma'am..."

The First Lady simply smiled. "Not unless I live right down there, Alfred," she stated, pointing out the direction from which the young man had just come.

"I-I ran right past it...?" he mumbled, looking back in dismay.

"Don't worry, you navigated yourself most of the way, right?" the woman smiled again, offering her hand. "Here, I'll be your escort, if you wish."

o~o~o

"It's been a while, Mr. Jones." Alfred's boss greeted him as he took a seat.

"Yeah, I've been pretty busy these days. World meetings somehow became more of a pain in the ass than they already were," he laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Of course, a meeting with the President could never be too casual.

"Well, world affairs aren't exactly the best around now..." Roosevelt said in a more serious tone. "Not many people can fix that, but being at war has definitely taken a toll on our people."

"It looks like it has... there's so many soldiers out there still suffering, and it kind of makes me wonder what I should be doing, seeing as they do so much for us..." Alfred looked away for a moment before saying anything else. He never really liked to talk about wars too much, because the thoughts only caused him to remember the past... He shook his head, trying not to think of that at a time like this. What's the point of thinking about the past if you can't see what's ahead of you? After a moment of silence, a chuckled escaped the blonde's mouth.

"What was that, Alfred?"

He smiled sadly. "It's nothing, it's just that when I was younger I thought it would be amazing if there was some sort of legend that would try to help others out willingly, and everyone would look up to it. The legend would become more confident as more people believed in him... I used to hear stories like that all the time, and even though they were made up, I kind of wanted to be a legend like that, with everyone putting their faith in me. I guess now that would only happen in some superhero comic..."

The President nodded knowingly, then suddenly stopped and looked at Alfred with what looked like a thoughtful face. "You know, Alfred, that is quite brilliant... and that's just what we need..."

"What do you mean, sir?

"Someone for everyone to look up to. Almost like a beacon of hope..." Roosevelt pondered more.

"...Why are you looking at me like that? Y-you know I wouldn't fit a job like-"

"Think about it, Alfred. You're physically fit, you have experience, you have charisma... and you won't go down easily... You would be just the type of person the people can trust!"

The blonde gulped. "I-I don't know if I want to be that sort of hero though...if I was only fighting, how would any of those other qualities apply?"

"You would show true virtue for your country. The model citizen. Super America Man, or The Great Patriot... Captain America! Someone people would remember! And you could keep your true identity to yourself and your friends, while the nation - perhaps the world would know you by your new, catchy name."

"But I haven't needed to publicize my current job, and I still do the same guardian thing."

"Exactly! Someone with so much experience in the field is bound to do well with this!"

"Mr, Roosevelt, I don't want to fight. I guess it would be cool to protect people, but the way I see it, a 'super soldier' would do more protecting people than entertaining them..."

Franklin Roosevelt rested his head on a single hand as he leant across the desk. "Alfred, my boy, think about the reputation you'll have. You would inspire millions of people in the country, perhaps more around the world. You can help people, Alfred. Think about it."

o~o~o

March 1945

Alfred stood in the center of the room, surrounded by Washington's top military officers, each looking at him with an almost identical face of stoic disapproval. "Do you guys plan on speaking, or are you just gonna sit on your lazy asses and wait for me to do something, like you normally do?"

The man in the center, probably the one in charge, took a step forward. "Steve here is that mighty American soldier we've been relying on for the past four years," he announced," Captain America himself." Alfred internally groaned at the use of his public name, Steve Rogers. Four years past, he had been known as either Captain America or Steve Rogers, and he rarely met the people who knew him by his real name anymore.

A few years back, he was put under the judgemental eye of the military, since he needed to be "put to use for the American cause" - in other words, fight the war. Things worked differently in the military than how his job worked at first. His military life made his job suddenly more intense, and every mistake he made was observed with a careful eye. None of the military officers actually knew about what Alfred represented, and they instead tested him more to find out why he was getting special treatment.

Alfred was snapped back into reality when the head guy took three steps closer to him. "Now, Steve, I've been noticing things about you... you've been slacking off an awful lot, and your records aren't nearly as great as they should be. Care to explain?"

"Care to explain why I've been treated like a fucking weapon ever since I've been forced into this hellhole of a military?"

"Watch your mouth, soldier. You didn't answer my question."

"Am I allowed to get older? It just happens, you get older, and your metabolism decreases. What's the big deal anyways? I've still been getting a hell of a lot of work done for your sorry ass. What would you do without me?" the young man challenged.

The chief commander chuckled as he walked from side to side in front of Alfred. "Fun little fact, soldier. We've been testing you for a reason. How do you think we caught every little flaw? Or were you too full of yourself to notice?"

"For what...?"

"The perfect killing machine," the older man said smoothly with an evil grin wrinkling his face. "See, we've been observing you for quite some time, so long that, in fact, we were able to build a prototype that can do the same amount of fighting at the same level as you, if not higher."

Alfred froze, unable to think of what to say. They plan to replace me with a machine? They've only been using me as a stand-in?

"So, in reality, Mr. Rogers, you haven't been that important to us at all. Once we get this machine up and running, we won't need you anymore."

There was silence for a moment, and suddenly Alfred lashed out against the officer. "So what was the point of calling me here like this then? Were you even planning on telling me this before I brought it up?!" In a swift movement, the blonde pulled the commander up by his collar.

"Don't choke someone of a higher status than you, soldier," he coughed out, only to be held tighter by Alfred's hands.

"At this point, sir, I don't give a fuck. I'm done with this job. I've been your dog for too long now. I'm not dealing with this any longer, especially if I can be replaced by some damned robot."

"Fine then, Alfred. It's not like we needed you much longer anyways." The commander smirked as Alfred punched him in the face and stormed out of the room.

o~o~o

Present

"Dammit, why can't I beat this level?" Alfred shouted at the TV.

Matthew appeared from the kitchen doorway around the corner. "Maybe if you didn't spend so much of your effort yelling at inanimate objects, you would have a better time concentrating..."

"S-shut up! Yelling helps me vent!"

"But yelling also disturbs the sleep of everyone living within a mile's radius of your apartment..."

"D'you say something, dude?"

Matthew sighed, not surprised that his own brother hadn't heard him. He was playing one of his superhero games again, and no matter how many times he'd said that he would never go back to that life. It was funny, because in a way, it probably meant that he missed being the hero, no matter how short the enjoyable part was. Alfred would never admit that, though.

There was a knock on the front door. "Mattie, can you get that?" Alfred yelled across the room.

The Canadian sighed again. "Yeah, I got it..." He walked through the living room and answered the door. He seemed to freeze for a second, and slowly said, " Hey, um, Al, I think this one's for you..."

"Um, are you sure about that...? I mean, not that many people come looking for me, you know?" said blond replied shakily.

"I think it's pretty clear he's looking for you..."

"Okay..." Alfred paused his game, stood up, and nervously made his way towards the door. He wasn't surprised to see a certain agent for S.H.I.E.L.D at the doorstep. He straightened up and looked at Agent Fury. "You were looking for me?"

"It's a pleasure to see you after so long, Captain America."

I know this chapter kind of skipped around a lot, but this was planned to be more of an introductory chapter for the story. Thank you for reading! :D