Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Copyrights go to Hidekaz Himaruya.
For some reason... I wasn't too pleased with this chapter. I've edited the living heck out of it but... I dunno. Anyway, next chapter is skipping over to 1781, heads up!
As always, reviews = love. They keep me writing.
Enjoy!~

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, March 1770

"Mr. America!"

A breathless voice laced with ultimate urgency forced the caramel-haired country standing behind an expansive, dark-wooded desk to turn toward the double doors that led into and out of the main room of Independence Hall, one brow arched in confusion. Bespectacled cerulean eyes bulged at the sight of his own state of Massachusetts standing only a few steps away from the desk, seeming to clutch at something that plagued his chest. Lines of pain creased his face: his vibrant green eyes, much akin to polished malachite, noticeably narrowed as the hand on his chest tautened, strands of sandy blonde hair sticking to his face covered by a layer of frigid sweat. "Mr. America, something terrible has happened! The damned red coats that were stationed in Boston...! They fired into the crowd that had gathered there... five civilians were lost, and even more were wounded. We need to act on this monstrosity!"

Virginia, perched at a small writing table to the right of the commotion, couldn't help but to tear his eyes away from the document that one of his citizens had asked him to look over a few days ago. America's jaw clenched as his arms folded in front of his broad chest - it seemed as if the room itself held its breath before he sighed tersely and nodded, brows knitting together. "We'll deal with this all right... I'll go talk to Britain. I need to find out what the hell he's thinking... first the damned taxes he's imposed that're all but killing us, and now this... it ends now. No more American blood will be spilt by the English... I won't stand idly by while his tyranny reigns. You can trust that I'll see to your revenge, Mass, but in the meantime... you really need to go get patched up."

Massachusetts glanced down for what appeared to be the first time since the massacre, all of the color draining from his face at the sight of the growing dark crimson splotch on the front of his white cotton shirt. "Y-Yes..."

America gestured toward the door. "There's a clinic not far from here that does excellent work." He strode around the desk and to the other state perched on the right side of the room, his tone calm though it was obvious that he wanted to explode with astonished, wildfire rage. "Virginia, come with me. I need some support while dealing with Britain."

Virginia could only nod as the visage of Great Britain popped into his head, his usually jovial expression twisted with malicious bloodthirstiness, emerald eyes gleaming in the low light of the conjured image... it looked so out-of-place upon the face of his proclaimed brother, the face of the man that granted him his current name a handful of years after the official English colonization of his (and subsequently America's) land. There's no way Britain could do this to us. We're all family. He wouldn't... no, couldn't... do this to his own kin, could he? He stood from the desk as America paced toward the double doors and out of the room, down the hallway and across the threshold of the entrance to Independence Hall with Virginia hot on his heels. "Where do you think he'd be around this time, VA?" America shot over his shoulder as his eyes swept over a wooden post ornamented with an analog clock beside the street. "It's just now turning over to two o'clock."

Virginia shrugged before he replied, "Reckon somewhere 'e can drink tea. 'S almost tea time for 'im, ain't it?"

America only nodded before turning abruptly down one of the streets that branched off to the right from the one on which they originated, a quiet murmur of "tavern" falling from pursed lips. The blonde all but dashed down each of the streets that they turned onto before finally grinding to a halt in front of a comfortable-looking pub situated in between two brick houses.

It was obvious that the quaint little tavern that almost everyone in town frequented had once resembled the houses that flanked it - apparently the owner had converted it into his own business once he had bought the property. America shoved the glass-inlaid doors open as all of the heads of the tavern's customers turned in his direction: Virginia tried to disappear behind the broad back of his older brother but of course to no avail. The heated blonde traipsed straight toward the back of the tavern to one of its only secluded, almost removed corners and banged his fist upon the circular table, oceanic eyes boring holes into the citrine-haired man that sat there. A thick brow raised as Britain's eyes turned away from the newspaper that he perused, instead flashing up to America's slowly reddening face. "Britain, we need to talk right now, outside. Away from the townsfolk."

"I figured you'd turn up sooner or later today," Britain sighed, nodding as he hopped to his feet and stepped away from the table at which he previously perched. "Lead the way, America."

Turning on his heel, America did just that: he wound his way back to the entrance of the tavern, crossed the threshold and turned down a few streets. Britain nodded a silent greeting to Virginia during their walk, seeing as how he had fallen into step to the right of the colony. In only a few moments America led them off of the road and instead into the midst of a thick patch of colossal oak and maple trees, halting once they were safely concealed by the wide trunks and turning toward Britain: Virginia had already taken America's side, jamming his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "I don't know what the hell's corrupted you, Britain, but I'm getting to the point where I can't deal with any of this anymore," America began, pausing every so often to bite the inside of his cheek to gain his composure and keep the emotion that toiled internally out of his business-like tone. "I thought things had gotten bad after the Stamp Act... but right after that you imposed the Townsend Duties, and my country's affairs worsened considerably. You're driving me into poverty, Britain - if you keep up with the onslaught of taxes I'll be wiped off the goddamned map. Is that what you want? For me, your brother, to disappear like that?"

Britain shook his head, expression noticeably softening as his eyes contacted the quivering blue of his younger brother's. "America, I-"

"No, I'm not done yet," America interrupted, the pitch and volume of his voice gradually crescendoing as he launched into his rant once again, "it's obvious to me that you only wanted to colonize my country for your own personal gain, brother. You weren't looking out for me at all... and what about what happened today in Boston? Your soldiers fired out into a crowd of my citizens... I heard they killed at least 5 people today, and even more than that are wounded!" He held up a hand just as Britain opened his mouth. "No, don't you dare to think to interrupt me! I won't have this anymore, Britain! No viable excuse can be made for your actions!"

"America, let me-"

"I said no." America's toned dropped through the octaves, the strains of black vehemence coating his words. "Apparently you won't listen to me since you keep trying to interrupt my spiel. I'll just have to show you what I mean then."

With a shake of his head America's eyes shifted from Britain and instead to the landscape just behind him as he marched off, jaw clenched tighter than ever. With a twitch of his mouth and a sigh Virginia warily turned his periphery onto his proclaimed elder brother, taking one step toward the bewildered blonde. "Britain... what's gonna happen now?"

For the first time that day Britain's eyes met the muddled hazel of Virginia's as a hand flitted up to card through his choppy flaxen hair. "I couldn't tell you even if I knew, Virginia. America hates me for what I've done... I don't think he knows that those soldiers acted of their own accord this afternoon. I had no part in their decision to fire on those people. The taxes I've imposed were supposed to help America instead of hurt him. All of what I've done... it was supposed to be for the betterment of his little country..." Britain shook his head as his shoulders began to tremble, teeth gnashing against one another in an attempt to rid himself of his emotion.

It all but destroyed Virginia to serve as a witness to the beginnings of his family's dissolution: even if they survived what was to come, he was sure that America would never think of Britain as part of his family again. The volume of his moderately-toned voice dropped to a whisper loud enough for Britain to hear although a few feet of distance separated them, breaking eye contact with his sibling to scrutinize the ground still covered with dead leaves left over from autumn. "The only family I've ever really had... it's all falling apart, isn't it...?"

The tears that Britain had been fighting to keep at bay pricked his chartreuse eyes - he had never wanted to see his own little brother looking so broken, so devastated, as if pieces of the sky had begun to plummet to earth around them... within two strides he stood directly in front of Virginia as his arms wrapped around the shorter young man. "Chin up, Virginia. Do you remember what we all said more than a century ago now? That no matter what happens, we'll always be together in this little family...? Even through the good, the bad... the happy, the sad... none of that matters in the grand scheme of things because we'd have each other..."

Virginia's body quaked as his arms coiled around Britain's midsection, burying his face into the folds of the other's cotton shirt. "T-This can't happen," Virginia mumbled in between choked sobs, arms tightening around Britain as if he were the sole thing rooting him within reality. "I can't l-lose m' only family l-like t-this...!"

One of Britain's arms unhooked from around Virginia as his hand flickered to his colony's chin and nudged his face up. All of his breath had abandoned him for a moment at the sight of his little brother's face, now puffy and rosy with the struggle of crying. "You won't, lad. We won't. Please, go talk to America for me, try to calm him down. I know he needs someone right now, and there's no one better than his own family, right? ...Besides, I think he'd rather throw himself off of a cliff than have me as his audience at the moment... Nevertheless, please do this for me as well as for him, Virginia. For our family's sake."

Something seemed to change within the diminutive colony then: determination colored his expression as his arm left Britain to wipe his face with his sleeve, fighting back the sobs that compiled in his chest. "A'right. I need to go, then... thank you, Britain, for the talk... and th' encouragement."

Britain squeezed his younger brother in a one-armed hug and patted his head, forcing a smile to upturn his lips. "Don't thank me. Go ahead, then. Let me know how everything turns out. There's no need for anymore tears, Virginia."

Virginia nodded as both of their arms returned to their sides: the younger began to pace away, hands jammed once again in his pockets. Britain turned to face the back of his little brother, diminishing in size as he loped away. "Love you, boy!" he shouted after Virginia, whisking away the shimmery tracks that his tears had imprinted upon his apricot cheeks.

Virginia's head whipped around to glance at Britain as his hopeful reply rode upon the chilly, pre-dusk breeze and echoed around the island nation. "Love you too!"

Britain pivoted after a few long moments and began to advance toward town, spring-green eyes never once leaving the ground in front of him. His mind wandered to the free-spirited America, inventing pictures of younger days right up to the grim visage that he wore only this evening, robin's egg eyes laced with pure hatred for the country who believed beyond the shadow of a doubt that he had given him everything... and then it switched over to Virginia, the naive little colony whom Britain had tried to give the world, the only one that still seemed to think of him as family, whose faith in him glimmered like gold in fathomless sepia eyes...

Please, God... please don't let my mistakes, as well as the mistakes of my countrymen, destroy the only family that I have.

To be continued.