A/N: This chapter is sad…. This is the denouement, for all your English buffs. For the rest of you, the story goes downhill from here.

Disclaimer: *lewd grin* If only Hetalia was mine… *cackles* What a mess… But Hetalia is not mine, and thus is more suitable for the faint of heart. :P

I didn't return to the island. My heart hurt. I could only think of him- I had hurt him too much to go back and apologize. Nothing would be okay.

His island was perverted by corruption, something I should have been able to stop. I was too absorbed in myself… now he was hurt. I looked toward him, and I saw his people fighting, and poverty, and hunger. It was painful to watch… so I just stopped looking. I absorbed myself in my America. I helped glorify the American Dream. I encouraged the little boxes to be formed, and the boys to go to college. But I also encouraged the rebels, the teens, the ones who danced to rock 'n' roll and did what they wanted. I wanted everyone to be happy. It was the least I could do.

I watched the USSR as well. He had changed his name not so long ago, no longer wanting to be Russia but to prove that he was caring, that he treated his citizens the best. He governed in a way that I hated. I hated him… I hated him for all he stood for. And he hated me in the same way. My thoughts were distracted by him, and I made setting out to stop his spread of "communism" my number one priority. I was blind… Carlos had been right. But my people were none the wiser at the moment, and I was cocky and pushed the Truman Doctrine. I thought it would never happen here, in my oceans.

But then Carlos took the bait that bastard had out. I witnessed the change of power. I saw that evil man corrupt my Carlos. I needed to save him… I needed to. But he hated me… my heart ached as I acknowledged this. He hated me with his everything… how could I just come to save him when he would reject me? I spoke with my people. They wanted to help, beautiful souls that they are… my tailored men in their cushy offices all wanted to help. I daren't ask the outside population, they had too much to handle on their own, why disturb their peaceful lives with this? I made up my mind and kept it from the majority, to protect them. It would be known when it worked, and my people could rejoice at their generosity and kindness.

I made up my mind and my tailored men arranged to help take the island back from that dictator, Castro. We found the people he had wronged and we trained them to fight. We trained them well, but they were excited, over-excited. I should have known better. But I never did.

The invasion was not as I wanted. The leader of my people was not as strong as I had expected him to be. Looking back, I'm glad he wasn't. But the poor men and women who fought for their land were wiped away, left bloodstains on the beaches as I watched in horror. I heard their screams, felt their anguish… I knew I had done wrong. I could only watch helplessly as red soldiers killed or took innocent rebels.

He was there as well. I saw him at the edge of the beach, alongside that corrupt man, his face stoic, eyes blank. I wanted to break through the siege, to run to him, to kill that bastard that perverted his sweet nature. My lips moved silently. His blank eyes moved to me, and they hardened, dark and turbulent and frigid. I tried to hide my hurt, my suffering, and I wore a stern expression. I refused to let on that I regretted this. I would not be weak before him. I was such a child… I didn't understand what that meant to him…

It was a failure. I watched thousands die at the hands of the enemy… we didn't even come close to victory. Castro remained untouched, and my Carlos' heart was still black with the communist poison. I wasn't about to lose him… but it was almost over. I wanted one more day with him… one more chance to show him my honesty, my candidness, my purest love for him. I could still save him-!

He would not talk to me. I tried, in vain, to arrange a meeting. He had grown hard and cold since my last departure, and each request for even a few words of conversation were pushed away icily. He didn't even give me a reason.

One last chance. One more time.

The USSR threatened me with missile bases in his land, innocently claiming that they were just protection.

"Do not worry, comrade," he had said, smiling childishly, "They should not be a threat to you at all." Should! That lying bastard… I could storm Cuba, destroy the bases, but that would accomplish nothing.

I chose to talk it out with the hulking monster. I had hoped to see Carlos- Cuba- there, but when I arrived at the meeting grounds, that monstrous brute of a nation was the only one present.

"Is Cuba going to be attending?" I asked him, but he just shook his head slowly, still wearing that horrible smile.

"I felt it unnecessary to bring him into this foolish game," he said slowly, "After all, it is only you and I playing this, da? Why bother him with such petty things?" I frowned.

"I thought you would bring him," I said dangerously. The pale demon's smile widened.

"I never suggested that we force a young nation into such childish games. He is still recovering after your foolish attempt to 'liberate' him so many months back."

"He deserves freedom!" I snapped, but he merely laughed.

"He has freedom. That is why he chose young Castro, is it not?"

"Communism isn't freedom, you bastard, you know that!" I felt my fists clenching, but he was calm as ever.

"And your capitalism is?" he asked innocently.

"It's more free than forcing people to live as peasants!"

I saw anger flash through his eyes. I had chipped away at his armor- normally, this would be a sign that I could win, but I was too upset to continue at him.

"I had hoped you would have brought Ca- Cuba-" I tripped over my words, feeling my rage give way to frustrated hurt- "to these negotiations, since we are debating about his land-"

I saw the rage begin to fade, his smile unfaltering and plastic and disgusting, and he shook his head.

"It is not your decision who is and is not present at a conference between you and I." Then his smile widened. "However, he did not want to come." My shock was obvious, and he tilted his head to one side. "I was not planning on telling you, because I did not want to hurt your foreign relations… but…" I wasn't listening anymore, not that he was saying anything important. He didn't want to….? I thought I would break down, fall weak at the feet of my enemy, but I suddenly felt nothing. There was no pain, or suffering, or longing… there was nothing. I steeled up and looked at my rival. He was innocent and childish and purely evil…. And I hated him and everyone associated with him."Let's get these negotiations underway then," I said, grinning, chuckling like I hadn't in a long time, "And get you the fuck away from my people."

That was the final blow to us. I gave up trying to be near him with that final move. Emotion made me blind- I had trusted that communist monster blindly. He had never chose not to come- he waited for an invitation that he would never receive. Castro kept power- eventually, he left, but many were there to fill his place, and Cuba was never himself again. We never talked again- I heard from enough people that he hated me, and I would do the same sort of psychological warfare if I cared enough. What was the point anyway? I had thought I had lost the only thing that mattered to me when he was gone. I realized later that I was just being melodramatic. He never meant to me what I thought he did. He meant easy sex, childish lust, young desire. I never loved him.

Or so I told myself. Maybe it was just easier to decide that I was just being a kid then, that I had matured and I could tell I was wrong then. Maybe it was easier that I didn't love the perfection in his face or the knowledgeable look in those chocolate eyes. Or that his smile didn't make me melt inside. Oh, yes, it was nicer to pretend like he hadn't broken my heart the day he left me in the rain, so many years back. And if anyone mentioned our last meeting, I wondered what they were talking about. It was nothing, I would say, nothing. Stupid. Childish. I didn't mean it, neither did he. We were just being stupid.

He and my brother to the north were friends now. He beat my poor brother, then apologized and they became friends. He won't come near me, and I told Canada to stay away from him. He was bad news. He didn't listen. Not my fault if that brute hurts him.

I tried to pretend like I didn't still want him.

I tried to pretend that he didn't matter.

How many lies I told myself, I wasn't sure. Eventually, I felt better. I lost him from my mind. It didn't hurt that way. It was better to forget.

If anything, it was better to have never loved at all, then to have loved and lost.

"I've been waiting for you." He stood up from his rocky perch. These beaches weren't exactly known for their stones, so I was surprised to see one in the middle of the beach.

"Waiting for me?" I chuckled good-naturedly. "I guess I've made quite the impression on you."

"Why are you here?" he asked once, as he rested amongst the almost outdated tobacco plants. Their young stalks swayed slightly as a warm breeze played across the land. "What do you want from me?"

"I want to know you," I said honestly, "I want to know another colony like me."

"I'm not like you," he said, frowning slightly, "I'll never be like you."

I'll never be like you.

A/N: C'est le fin. I fell in love with the anguish and suffering of Cuba, and felt my heart break at the suffering of this nation, which is why this story wasn't a one-shot. It was supposed to be, but I felt like it did no justice to a dynamic history, and I'm kind of a history nerd. :o But ht4eva, did you like it? C'est pour vous, mon ami(e?). If not, I'll do it over. *bows humbly* And make it shorter, hahaha!

To all the rest of you: I do suggestions as fast as I can, so when you R&R, test me. :P I do good with challenges. :P (AKA, R&R, because I said so. :o) Merci pour lire, mes chers~