Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia.

American Copies

Chapter 10 – The Goodbye Moment

It was him. He was walking closer. That dreaded, gray uniform clung to the figure, but upon further examination he looked different from the cowboy. That was a given; he was an embodiment of a set of specific ideals America had—and tragically still had in the present. Arthur righted his posture and squinted at the figure that loomed closer. When he realized the full difference, his eyes widened, and he took a step back.

He did not have the physical similarities of the America from 1860. He had the physical similarities of the America from 2011. He had the glasses, the more muscle mass, the taller height— He was the twenty-first century America in a Confederate Army uniform.

"Is that Arthur Kirkland I see?" He called out. There was an undertone of thrill and excitement in his tone. "My, it's been years since I've seen you." His voice had a southern twang to it which matched the nightmarish ensemble.

Arthur took another few steps back and answered in a firm voice, "The Confederate States of America."

"The Confederate States of America is so long." He threw his head back in mock exaggeration before sending Arthur a smile. "Alfred'll do just fine."

Arthur stepped back again, noting that the Confederacy was nearly out of the water—just a few feet away. "The name 'Alfred' doesn't suit you in my eyes."

"Hunh, good thing I don't care." Alfred the Confederate strolled onto the beach. He paused beside Arthur. "You know you raised me. Y'see, the way it happened was…there was a split. We used to be in the same body—I and he, but there was a little issue... I got paranoid, and he got rid of me. Ruthless guy. But yeah before I seceded, there was only one representation for America—the one you raised." He reached out a hand and brushed his fingers against Arthur's cheek. "Remember?"

Arthur immediately smacked away Alfred's arm and sent him a glare. "You're a racist tangent that was born in 1860, and you were killed by the Union."

Alfred watched Arthur with a thoughtful gaze, and a corner of his lips tucked itself back, expressing slight frustration. He sighed. "Arthur, c'mon, you're smarter than this. You know I'm not from 1800s. Well— My uniform is. I was dissolved in it, but you can't deny that I'm just a bit taller than I was way back then."

There was a pause from both parties.

"Want to know why?" Alfred asked, lifting an eyebrow. Arthur showed no indication of questioning him further. Quickly, Alfred's hand shot out and gripped Arthur's shirt—much to Arthur's surprise. Alfred yanked him close. "It's because I was never truly dead. Just dissolved. I have existed in America's head for 146 years."

Arthur clutched onto the Confederacy's arm. Unlike Amelia, the specter was not yanked from an alternative universe. This America was not pulled from 1860, but he was a version of America. The only true answer was that the Confederacy was an underlying persona that owned the back of America's mind—Arthur could think of a few of his own, but never had they come out to— Arthur's eyes widened. "…You're a result. You're what Alfred would be…if the Confederate States of America had won the American Civil War."

"Yup. He and I are alternative results of one, deciding event. I am hypothetical." He tilted his head as if to exhibit some form of pride.

Arthur yanked back, though he was unsuccessful in freeing himself. "Then why are you able to touch me? How can your clothes be wet from the water? How can you be standing here if you don't exist?"

"I do exist, Arthur."

"Then you're not hypothetical."

Alfred huffed and rolled his eyes. Same Arthur. Always so technical. "Okay, okay. I'm not the true representation of America right now. He is. But I'm planning on changing that by becoming the dominant personality. Shouldn't be too hard. There's numerous people that live within my borders I can represent, and with me as the representation, then that personality will take over the majori—"

At that moment, the Confederacy found the landscape abruptly shift. Arthur had kicked the backs of his knees, he reasoned. In accordance with the attack, Alfred retaliated, dragging Arthur down with him. The yanking, the flipping, and the pinning lasted all of a few seconds, and once again Arthur and Alfred were glowering at each other.

"Don't like hearing me talk, Hon?" Alfred asked, willing a smirk on his face.

"It's nothing personal, Alfred, it's just that stupidity offends me. I hate seeing it in large droves." Upon seeing the drawn back fist, Arthur turned his head to the side and simultaneously squeezed his eyes closed.

But the hit never came.

Arthur peaked through a squinted gaze. He was surprised to see the Confederate States of America staring up at the veranda where… Arthur looked as well to see a line of American copies standing side by side.

"So those visions from that hole were true… You pulled past versions of me and brought them here." Alfred looked down at Arthur. "You've got a weird way of showing affection. On that note, I don't have time to sit around and fight." Alfred stood up and brushed himself off before heading towards the veranda stairs.

Arthur jumped up and ran after him, calling out, "Don't hurt them!"

Alfred glanced back at Arthur, giving him a look of absolute disbelief. "They're my past. Why would I want to destroy my own past? That's stupid. God, Arthur. You're great sometimes, but that was a pretty stereotypical assumption."

"You're right. I should just stop assuming that you'll kill people, because you clearly are only out to preserve lives," Arthur growled, staying hot on the Confederacy's heels.

"Yeah, speaking of that," Alfred glanced around the bottom floor of the house, "where's that version of me that actually looks like me? From this time period. Scratch the uniform."

Arthur crossed his arms, intending to stand between the Confederacy and the rest of his Alfreds for quite some time. "Out. What do you need to know that for?"

"Well— I'm going to kill him, of course." The Confederacy answered easily. He continued on talking as he poked his head through the different doorways. "Take my place in this world. Take over it. Whatever works best for me. But you and I are going to have to put my past back where it came from, okay? I'm not too into the idea of falling apart at the seams, because a past self of mine got a splinter from twenty-first century wood."

Arthur glared after the Confederacy as he searched the bottom floor. "Alfred," He addressed the eldest colony, "take the children upstairs to the master bedroom so they'll be out of the way, okay? It's just after eight; we're awake for the day. Make sure everyone stays awake. I don't want to be up with the kids into the morning's early hours."

The eldest colony looked between Arthur's firm gaze and the Confederacy who was still searching. Hesitantly, he nodded, and he picked up the toddler. He took the child's hand and scaled the staircase with his heart pounding in his ears.

Arthur wanted him to wake his most modern self. He grasped that. Everyone meant everyone. Maybe Arthur thought his most modern self could help and fight against the other version of himself. The eldest colony focused on climbing the second staircase. It seemed that his hearing had heightened to listen for the water drenched stranger, but no sound of hurried steps came. Once he arrived at the door to the master bedroom, he opened it and pulled the child inside. Alfred closed the door behind them and set the toddler down. Immediately, he hurried over to the bed, staring down at his future self with worry.

"Okay, Guys." Alfred looked to the child and toddler. "We're going to wake him up. Arthur says everyone has to be awake. So. We're gonna do that. We don't have much time." The eldest colony gave his most modern self a light push and then a shove.

The child, deciding that just pushing was not good enough, pulled the toddler onto the bed and climbed over to his oldest self. He leaned down and called into the twenty-first century America's ear. "HEY! Wake up, Alfred! We need you! Arthur needs you! There's a scary guy here, and you need to wake up!"

The toddler settled for climbing onto the most modern America's chest and pounding on it.

Instantaneously, the Confederacy winced and covered his ears, looking to Arthur, and the other version of himself that stood by him. He seemed young…perhaps from around the 1700s, and the woman at Arthur's other side did look similar to him. Oh— The alternate universe version. The rift was badly damaged, of course there was a universe in which he was— Wait, wait. Arthur had said his other half was not home (of course he did not believe that for a second). Where was it that Arthur sent the kids to?

Briefly, the Confederacy's vision blacked out. He caught himself staring at the ground with wide eyes. That was close. He almost surrendered consciousness to his other half. That would have definitely thrown a wrench into his plans. He viewed the stairs. Arthur had sent his past selves to the master bedroom.

When the Confederacy seemed to make the connection, Arthur spoke quickly, "Amelia, Alfred, to the second floor." Though both were hesitant, they hurried up the stairs. Arthur stood at the base, staring the Confederate Alfred down.

Alfred chuckled lowly as he took a step towards Arthur. "I think we just did this. You ended up on the ground, remember? You have gotten weaker since we last encountered each other. So if I could take you on during my revolution and during the War of 1812, then what makes you think that you can take me now?"

Arthur spread his legs to the length of his shoulders to create a solid stance. He had no intention of letting this Alfred pass him.

Alfred paused and his amused smile fell. "Y'know, I couldn't really take that punch before. Contrary to popular belief, I don't want to hurt you. So why don't you stand aside so I can get by without beating you up?" He took a few steps forward, keeping a distance of a few feet between them. When Arthur did not move, Alfred sighed. "I know you don't want to hurt me either, okay? So if I go in to attack, you're going to end up under me again just like before."

"Interesting theory. Let's test it." Arthur lifted his chin, suggesting that Alfred come forth.

Alfred huffed before rushing forward, reaching out for Arthur's shoulder as he had done similarly before. Instantly, Arthur fell to his left and thrusted his heel into Alfred's torso. He heard a sudden grunt, and when he returned to his initial position, he saw Alfred lying on the floor, clutching his stomach.

"Mm. Proven false."

Alfred gasped, staring up at the ceiling as he gripped his stomach. "What the fuck was that?!" He coughed. "What the ever loving fuck was that, Arthur?! You couldn't push me away before, so where the hell did that come from?"

Arthur looked down at his legs, bouncing lightly once or twice. He kept a stoic expression. "I've got good leg strength. I just wasn't in an optimal position before to shatter your thick skull."

Alfred winced, hearing more of his younger selves scream for his other half to wake. "Agh—" He laughed briefly and was very annoyed by the outcome. "Shit." His vision went dark. "Looks like I'll see you when the other gets tired." With that, the Confederacy went silent, and his eyes closed. His breathing slowed to soft intakes and quiet exhales.

Arthur allowed his stance to slacken, and then he heard a flurry of stomping from upstairs. He looked to the top of the stairs to see his young adult Alfred come into view.

"Are you okay?!" Alfred rushed downstairs, nearly falling as he went. He skipped the last few steps and landed in front of Arthur. Quickly, he gathered Arthur into a hug and spoke, "They told me the Confederate States are here. Did he fuck with you?"

Momentarily, Arthur allowed himself to enjoy the hug and Alfred's worry. It was such a comfort to feel it again. He moved his head to the side so he'd be able to speak out rather than speak into Alfred's chest. "I'm fine, Alfred. He's there on the ground."

Alfred looked to see a carbon copy of himself in a wet, Confederate Army uniform lying on the floor dead asleep. "Holy shit." He released his hold on Arthur and stepped over to his look-alike, squatting down to examine him. "Did you knock him out?"

"No." Arthur crossed his arms and glanced at the top of the staircase to see the other Americas crowding it. "No, I just kicked him." His eyes widened slightly and briefly in realization. "He said… 'I'll see you when the other one gets tired.' Alfred, I'm sure that means only one of you can be conscious at the same time, because you two are two, interchangeable results of a deciding event." He gave the Confederacy's boot a small kick. "I needed you awake, because—" Arthur lowered his voice, "because he said he wanted to kill you."

"Yeah, he wants to be the only rep." Alfred stood up and glanced around the room. "But we can't have that. I got hints of his thoughts, by the way—while I was out. Our minds are connected, pretty much, so. Any planning's going to have to be…not told to me. M'kay?"

Arthur accepted the situation, despite not liking it. "… Yeah. Yeah, got it. You're going to have to stay awake, though, until the full moon. We can't have him waking up again. Today is the twelfth day, so you need to stay awake for roughly…sixty hours. Can you do it?"

Alfred nodded easily, much to Arthur's surprise. "Yeah, sure. We're nations, right? We can handle some sleep loss. After all humans can go like ten days without sleep. I just need to survive two and a half. No big deal. I have coffee, video games, cable, Netflix, a twenty-four hour McDonald's down the street a ways— I'll be fine."

"Mm. Even though we don't need things as urgently as humans do, it's important to maintain a healthy lifestyle." Arthur moved to squat beside the Confederacy, and he began to remove the old clothing. "Anyone who's tired can go back to bed," He called upstairs before adding a last comment to himself. "I, however, have laundry to do."

"You're gonna wash that racist uniform?" Alfred asked skeptically.

Arthur shrugged. "How else are we going to tell you two apart? Save for the fact that he's got more of an American southern accent on him." He heard the sounds of individuals walking back to their respective bedrooms as he undressed the Confederacy. "Besides, we can't let this lake water and sand stay on this wood floor."

"Arthur." There was a pause filled with nothing but Arthur's fabric shuffling. Alfred pulled the wet clothes from Arthur. "Hey," His tone was softer than it had been previously, "flooring can be fixed. I'll just toss this crap uniform into the lake, and we can always write 'CSA' on him with a sharpie. …Or. You can still do tattoo art, right?"

At that, Arthur let out a hesitant laugh. "It's been a time. Besides. It's ultimately a nonissue since you'll stay awake for the sixty hours."

Alfred dropped the clothing on the Confederacy's face and scooted closer to the Confederacy's body. "Yo, Art." He leaned forward, leaving a foot of space between his face and Arthur's. "I don't think I ever heard why you were hoping I'd break free from your eighteenth century ass."

Arthur's green eyes flickered, taking in Alfred's genuinely friendly, facial features. "…Well." He faltered, gripping anything close to him for stability and confidence. "I… I don't want you to change. This you." He looked Alfred up and down. "I. Despite what I sometimes say, I don't want you to change. That loud howling out the window you did a few days ago was just— It was so you. I wouldn't want you to…do anything else but be yourself." Silence hung in the air before Arthur interrupted it in an attempt to inject more detail into his words. "A—and. If you never broke free from the British Empire's control, then I couldn't ensure that you'd turn out the same."

After a few moments of no response, Alfred's stare made Arthur nervous—but it was not exactly unwelcome. He found his body moving closer ever so slightly…

…that is, before he heard someone giggle from the stairs.

Arthur pulled back, falling against the couch and sending a look at whoever was on the staircase. Aha. It was the child. "Alfred, what do you think you're doing intruding on private conversation?"

The child was grinning brightly as he gripped the banister. "You guys aren't fighting anymore."

The most modern version of Alfred and Arthur locked gazes before Arthur quickly stood and walked over to the staircase. "Alfred, would you dry out those clothes, fold them, and put them with the other clothes from their original time periods? We need everyone dressed in their original clothing when we send them back. I'll put this one to bed."

"But you said that we'd be awake now!" The child argued. "I wanna stay up with you and Alfred."

Arthur climbed the stairs and took the child's hand. "I'm sure you do, but we're going to try and get at least another hour in, okay? Think of it as taking a nap early and getting it over with." Arthur guided the little Alfred to the temporary nursery. He paused when he saw Amelia tucking the toddler in. "I've got one more here."

"Arthur," Amelia smiled as she helped the child into bed, "how'd that talk go with Alfred? Didja reach first base?"

Red tinged Arthur's cheeks. "No, Amelia. We just talked. Things are chaotic enough right now without the intrusion of emotions. I, myself, am going back to bed after I get suitable clothes for the new addition."

"Lie down here. It'll help the lil ones get to bed faster. I'll get the clothes." Amelia pressed a hand against Arthur's back to urge him to bed.

Arthur was hesitant, but upon seeing the hopeful looks on the toddler and child's faces, he climbed between them onto the queen sized bed. "Thank you, Amelia. Would you keep Alfred awake, please?"

"Yeah, sure." She answered and gave the small group a wave before turning off the lights and closing the door.

The entire group (including the cowboy once he was able to gather his wits), took turns helping the most modern America stay awake. The first twenty-four hours were simple enough. At the thirty-six hour mark, Alfred could feel the Confederate States of America trying to force him into slumber, and it was getting progressively harder to resist.

Alfred flipped all the lights on to simulate sunlight. He ate an apple as he stood behind the couch, fully engrossed in re-watching a television show he had found on Netflix. With such hilarity keeping him awake, he would surely be successful in his endeavor. Surely. His gaze traveled to the stairs to see Arthur stepping down them. "He's still asleep," Alfred called out as he looked back at the television, "but he's fighting pretty hard."

"You're doing great." Arthur offered a positive word in passing, but it seemed his mind was on something specific. "I'll need some of your hair." He walked into the kitchen and began searching the drawers for scissors and a small, plastic bag.

Alfred sent him a confused look. "You need my hair? Why? Get some from literally anyone else in the house; it's all mine." It was somewhat of an unfunny joke, and Alfred's voice probably held more seriousness in it than he intended, but he really was just half joking.

"It started with you; it needs to end with you." Arthur paused and pulled a pair of scissors from a drawer, ignoring the fact that he admitted he used some of Alfred's DNA to enact the spell in the first place. "It's the last thing I need for the mixture. I don't want to make a mistake—another one, that is." He walked back over to Alfred and held out the plastic bag he had found. "Hold this while I take some."

Alfred frowned—slightly displeased by the course of actions, but not very bothered by them—and plucked the bag from Arthur's light hold. "Don't cut off my ear," He facetiously warned him.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Arthur commented absently as he found a section of hair and snipped it. "There. Painless. Open the bag, would you?" He focused on keeping the sample of hair all together.

Without a word, Alfred stuck his apple in his mouth and opened the plastic bag, holding it out to Arthur. He watched as Arthur placed the last ingredient in the bag. Suddenly, Alfred let out a small noise of indignation. Arthur lifted his gaze as well as an eyebrow, questioning Alfred's odd rebuttal. Alfred sealed the bag and placed it in Arthur's hands before taking the apple from his mouth. "Dude, that's like thirty hairs. Did the recipe call for like thirty fucking hairs?"

"I wanted to make sure I had extra just in case." Arthur looked between the translucent bag and Alfred's hardly disgruntled expression. "It'll grow back." As if an assurance was necessary. Arthur could tell that Alfred was making fun of him. Interestingly enough, the teasing was not in bad taste. "Are you going to be alright out here while I put the kids to bed?"

"Yeah." Alfred let out a sigh. "It's gonna be hella boring, but I can do it. Only twenty-four hours left, right?"

Arthur nodded softly. "Right." He chose to go silent. Arthur reached out a hand and patted Alfred's upper arm. "You'll do fine. I'll see you in a bit." With that, he walked past Alfred and treaded upstairs.

Alfred managed to last. He stretched himself to the sixty hour mark. As the sun streaked orange and pink across the sky, the cowboy and soldier carried a heavy cauldron down the veranda stairs and to the huge field across the street. Where it was that Arthur managed to procure a cauldron from nearby, the two had no clue. They placed the cauldron down in the grass and viewed the various, combined ingredients inside it.

"What do you think is in it?" The soldier asked as he peered at the mess in the cauldron. He scrunched up his nose. It was probably symbolism.

The cowboy shrugged. "I dunno, but as long as it works, I don't care. C'mon, let's go put on the clothes we were wearing when we got here." With that, he hurried back to the cabin with the soldier following closely behind.

Arthur stepped out of the cabin with the child and toddler in tow. The toddler clung to the white blob as he expressed his displeasure. The child was distraught as well. Arthur struggled to get them into their original clothes and, ultimately, guiding them to where the other Alfreds left the cauldron. He set the toddler on the ground and squat down to meet the child's gaze. "Now, Alfred," He began, "this isn't a permanent goodbye. I'll see you in just a bit after I send you home, okay? And you know that we'll see each other loads of times throughout your life. I need you to be strong." Arthur eyed the toddler. "And you as well."

The child, however upset he was that his time with Arthur was done, nodded and attempted some sort of a smile. "Okay, Arthur. I'm gonna be strong." He renewed himself into a more determined light. "I'm gonna make sure that other guy never hurts you!"

However sweet the declaration was, Arthur knew that the Confederate States of America probably would not harm him. He smiled, nonetheless. "Thank you, Alfred. I believe in you."

By that time, the other versions hurried out of the cabin in their respective clothing. They gathered near the cauldron and watched as the rift twitched and flickered in the close distance. The eldest version of Alfred carried the Confederate States of America outside. Thankfully, the latter was still asleep, but it seemed as if the most modern Alfred was faltering.

Arthur viewed the sky as the most modern America made his way over to the cauldron and lay his carbon copy down on the grass. "We'll probably need to wait another minute or so. We have to be sure the sun has fully set." Arthur spoke aloud as he noted the warm colors in the sky faded to purple. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt the sky was dark enough. Using the light from the rift to see, Arthur pulled out the plastic bag containing Alfred's hair and poured its contents into the cauldron.

At this point, Arthur pulled his wand out and proceeded to wave it. The Alfreds watched as Arthur muttered a sort of incantation. The ingredients in the cauldron spun lazily before speeding up, becoming more and more luminescent. A column of sparkling light shot up into the air, urging a brilliant smile onto Arthur's face.

Once he was finished, Arthur pocketed his wand and looked to Amelia. "You'd better go first and show everyone how easy it is. Set foot in the light. You won't fall in the mixture." He paused briefly before adding, "It was lovely to meet you, Amelia. Thank you for all your help over the past few days. I know it would've been very difficult without you."

Amelia gave Arthur a smile and then a hug. "It was great meeting you, too, Arthur." She whispered into his ear, "Don't wait too long to tell him the truth." With that, Amelia lifted her leg and planted her foot above the cauldron's center. Her eyes widened as she witnessed her weight being supported by seemingly nothing. Quickly, she accepted the amazing occurrence before stepping up until her whole body was in the light column. The others watched her form shot up into the sky and through the rift.

"She'll be home again in seconds." Arthur assured the others before looking amongst the group. "We need to go fast."

The eldest colony volunteered immediately by hurrying to the cauldron. He looked around at the group. "These past, two weeks were awful," He spoke plainly, "but it was an experience I don't want to throw away. I look forward to the future, and I will do things right." It was a personal promise that Alfred was set on keeping. Once he was finished, he climbed onto the cauldron with little effort and disappeared up into the sky.

The second the eldest colony disappeared, the child gripped onto the side of the cauldron. "Arthur," He spoke with willpower flashing in his eyes, "I'm gonna make sure that gray guy won't exist. I love you." Before Arthur could say a word in response, Alfred vaulted himself above the cauldron and back into the past.

Arthur gave the absence of the child a pained smile. He looked down to the cauldron to see the toddler trying to climb it. Surprised, he picked him up. It seemed that he was inspired by the previous Americas disappearing without fear. Realizing that it would be in everyone's best interest not to convince the toddler to remain with him, Arthur placed a kiss against little Alfred's forehead and held him close. He hated the idea of sending him away, but he pulled back and helped the toddler (along with the small, white blob) onto the cauldron. The two forms flew into the sky, fading away.

It was all happening so fast. There were only a few versions of Alfred left in the immediate vicinity…but it was how the world was—how the universe intended things to be. Arthur's thoughts were yanked back when he saw both the rancher and soldier grip the cauldron from opposite sides.

"I'm first." The soldier stated, not leaving room for argument. "I still have to beat Arthur's ass in war."

"I'm pretty sure it sends us back to the second we were taken from," The rancher answered, not even considering an argument about who should go first. He released his hold on the cauldron's rim. "You go, then. I'll be up behind you."

The soldier's grip on the cauldron tightened, and he finally let out a sincere remark, "It was…really nice hanging out with you, Near Future Alfred. I'm looking forward to being you." At least then he knew he would grow. Without another word, the soldier climbed up and disappeared through the light.

Alfred the rancher stared up at the sky. "It was nice hanging out with you, too," He responded, knowing that it was too late and that his past self could not hear him. He then focused his gaze on the most modern Alfred and Arthur. "You guys better dump him as soon as possible. No chance for hesitation. He's got a way of surprising people." He gave the duo a firm nod. "It was great meeting you both, and I know more from it." Quickly, he hopped onto the cauldron.

Just as the cowboy's form disappeared from the light column, the most modern America fell where he stood, and the Confederate States of America kicked the cauldron with the intent to knock it over. The column was disrupted, but before the cauldron could spill out its ingredients, Arthur leaped forward and held it in place. While righting the cauldron, Arthur watched in horror as the Confederate States of America rose from the ground.

I'm so sorry I was two days late, but we have a longer chapter than usual at least. The next chapter will be the last one, and in keeping with the theme of time travel and different versions of one being, I have written two, alternate endings for American Copies. I will upload them both at the same time so you can choose to read Alternate Ending One or Alternate Ending Two—or you could even read them both to decide which one you favor. Thank you so much for your time! I hope you enjoyed chapter ten and are excited for Chapters Eleven!