I do not own hetalia

Okay I don't like this one as much as the others but I had to put this up today because I'm going on holiday tomorrow and wont be able to update for another week. enjoy.


Arthur loved tea. He loved it with a passion. As a country a lot of things in his life changed, his empire, his religion, his family... But one of the things that had never changed was his love of tea. He had tea for every occasion. Teacups for every day of the week. Sometimes his subconscious mind even ended up choosing a certain blend of tea for a certain occasion without him even realising. Today was one of those days. He brought the teacup up to his lips as he took in another mouthful of the sweet, warm, comforting liquid and turned the page of his newspaper to see the weather: rain, rain, rain, partial sun, cloudy, rain. He smiled softly and shook his head it seemed that was the weather forecast every week. As if to reassure himself, he turned to the front of the paper just to check he hadn't somehow gotten last week's paper when he took note of the date: July the 4th... the 4th of July, almost the end of the academic year, the day after a full moon... the day Alfred, his own little brother, left him. Numbly Arthur lifted his cup to his mouth again and took another sip as it slid down his throat Arthur realised exactly what type of tea he was drinking chamomile the type he only drank when he was depressed. He had chosen it without even realising. Arthur was happily shaken out of his musings by knocking, loud knocking that did not stop. Slowly and grudgingly Arthur rose to his feet cursing whoever was behind the door one thousand times over. As he reached for the ornate handle of his front door he numbly registered the fact that he could feel one of the scars he had gotten from the war of independence on his side, one of the scars that were supposed to have healed. He pulled back the heavy door to see the last person he wanted to see. Bouncing up and down, flag in one hand burger in the other, dressed in ridiculous amounts of red, white and blue, was Alfred.

"Iggy! Dude! Where have you been? You missed the pre-party party and you didn't even call to say that you were coming to the party!" Alfred yelled loudly the obnoxious grin remaining on his face, if Arthur had had any neighbors they most certainly have come outside to see what all the fuss was about, but Kirkland manor sat alone, on top of a hill with no one else around, Arthur briefly wondered if his house was a metaphor for his life however, quickly discarded that thought in favour of staring once again at the American man stood before him.

"I- I uh..." Arthur noted that his throat had gone dry and blocked and his brain was refusing to cooperate and would not come up with anything to say to Alfred. With his brain broken his instincts kicked in. And, for possibly the first time in his life, his instincts told him to run. He swiveled around on his heel, forgetting the old injuries that seemed to be re-appearing as he ran down the hall, they always showed up again around this time of year, he clumsily reached the door of his front room and pushed it open, dashing in and slamming it behind him with enough force to make the house shake, before turning the little used key and locking the door shut.

The fast-paced music reverberated through his skull as Ireland lay on the bed in the guest room, formerly his room. He had come to visit his brothers, however, Wales was out for the day, Scotland was visiting Nessie and, Ireland assumed, his younger brother was in some pub drunk out of his skull. So the only people in the house were him and Arthur. A door slammed making the remaining beer in Ireland's old bottles shake. Ireland sat up in bed confused deciding that the fact that Arthur, the most gentlemanly-est gentleman that Ireland had ever had the misfortune of meeting, was slamming doors must be a sign. Looking over at his calendar to see if he had time for the apocalypse Ireland let out a string of curses. It was the 4th of July. Now he knew why his brothers were so eager to get out of the house. Ireland sighed as he stood up, last year Arthur had promised he wouldn't go back to what had become his Independence Day tradition, sitting alone in a dark room and sobbing; however the slam of that door could only mean one thing. He quickly checked himself in the mirror just to make sure that he didn't have anything red, white or blue on him. He sighed in relief as he realised he had put on an old green t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. He swept his light ginger hair out of his eyes and absently noted that he needed a shave. As he came to the ornate staircase and started walking down, fighting the strong urge to slide down the beautifully crafted, freshly waxed banister, Ireland called out "Come on Arthur, I thought you weren't going to do this this ye-" Ireland stopped dead. For there, not more than a few feet in front of him, attempting, without success, to get into the locked room, was America. Ireland saw red. He ran up and grabbed America, probably more roughly than was necessary, and dragged him to the door.

"Get out!" he yelled fiercely wanting nothing more than to punch America in the face

"W-woah dude! Calm down! I just stopped by to check if Iggy was coming to the party" the American attempted to defend himself

"Party?" Ireland asked hoping, for America's sake that he did not mean what Ireland thought he meant

"Yeah! My Fourth of July party! I invited Iggy ages ago and he never got back to me!" said the American immediately perking up despite the fact that Ireland still had a strong grip on his shirt. Ireland could not believe the stupidity that this one man possessed. Faster than America could see, Ireland grabbed a beer bottle, where it came from America couldn't understand, smashed it and pointed it at America's neck

"Get. Out" the Irish man growled, roughly shoving America out of the door. Before he could shut it, however, America spoke "I don't understand" he didn't try to get in again just stood there with a confused look on his face.

"That's not surprising" Ireland mumbled, but America continued as though he hadn't said anything "If this is about Arthur not wanting to see me because it's Independence Day, why does he want to see you? You declared your independence too" America was oddly perceptive

"You really think that you and I are the same?" Ireland asked he wasn't stumped by America's question as America had hoped. "We aren't. You see the difference between your independence and mine is that when I became independent I moved out, but when you became independent you denounced him as your brother and didn't speak to him for years! So no America we are not the same!" and with that he slammed the door shut, locking it so that moron couldn't get back in again, and quietly turned around. The broken shards of the beer bottle crunched beneath his feet and he mentally reminded himself the clean that up later. He arrived at the door and knocked once. "Arthur? It's me, can I come in?" Ireland waited in suspense for a few moments before he heard the quiet click of a key turning in the lock. Gently he pushed the door open. The room was dark and silent, apart from the quiet sobs that led Ireland to the corner Arthur was curled up in. "your mask has slipped, brother" Arthur looked up at him with pain filled eyes and Ireland sat down beside him. He pulled Arthur onto his lap and gently stroked his hair as he whispered comforting words to the sobbing nation. "It's going to be alright brother. Don't worry, I'm here. I'll always be here"


Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited, followed and to hana97 who favourite authored me! like I said I probably wont be able to update for another week or so, but after that it's north Ireland time! and I still need ideas on that one. the best one I've gotten so far is from my brother who said he should meet Canada but if you have any other ideas please tell me.