A/N: For you guys :3 I finished this as soon as possible. Gah, well, the whole dream part of the story was basically thanks to a friend of mine. If it wasn't for her awesomeness, this chapter wouldn't have been finished so fast. Also, follow me on Twitter if you'd like. I was finally pressured into making an account. Follow me at /hetalialovesyou

It had been one week.

Well, to be precise, one week, four days and I think twelve hours now.

I hated every blasted second of…of—well, I suppose you could call it waiting. But that just makes it sound more pleasant that it really is.

I was slowly, but most definitely being tortured. It was as if I was living out my existence from one dream to the next. Yes, yes, I know. Heaven was supposed to be a paradise where you sleep on white pallid clouds, roads paved out of gold, and everyone had a smile on.

What a load of bollocks.

It was more like I was condemned to stay in this blasted place. I had all the time in the world to think and contemplate my departure from Earth. Unfortunately for me, I hadn't noticed that where I usually would sleep there was a perfect view of a house that was far too familiar.

Cor blimey. I was going stark mad. Fate, the old sod told me, it was fate that I landed in that backyard. It was fate that his house was right there below my favorite area. It was simply just fate this and fate that. The old duffer managed to get on my last nerve.

How they let a git like him be God, no one knew.

He could've stopped this whole thing from even happening. He could've beamed me back up from heaven or something.

But no, he said. It all relied on fate. Bugger all.

I found myself sitting in that wretchedly perfect spot ever since I had returned, even though I wished I wasn't. I wanted to walk away from everything that was happening down below. But I couldn't. I was the one who had caused it all to happen.

Alfred was falling apart before my eyes and there was nothing I could fucking do.

There were days where I would scream and yell, crying out at that house. My heart sank whenever I saw Matthew, how he had to take care of his older brother and how he had to act as if he was strong enough to handle it all. He wasn't. That was a fact. I had witnessed it. I watched him curl up on his bed daily, weeping, because he couldn't fix his brother. He was just a child. And I had placed that upon him.

I had successfully ruined two perfectly happy lives in only one week.

If fate had never made me fall into that backyard, if fate had never made me fall in love with Alfred, well, let's just say life would be so much easier. Lonely, yet easier.

I never wanted to leave. Believe me. I wanted to stay more than anything, if I had such a choice. I would've given blasted world to stay in that house.

But of course I couldn't. I was an angel. I had to die before meeting the one person I would have loved to spend the rest of my life with.

Sod it.

My days consisted of sitting in my spot, unmoving, and watching Alfred F. Jones destroy his life. Why, you ask? Because I felt guilty. I felt so bleeding guilty and I couldn't even do anything about it. I had to watch him slowly spiral into madness. Things weren't supposed to end this way. After I left he was supposed to finish his living his life. Happily. Fall in love. Forget about me. No. No, no, no. It was not supposed to fucking end this way.

If he would have just listened to me, he would not be this way. If he would have just bleeding forgotten about me—no matter how much it hurts to think about—and lived on like it had never happened, this wouldn't be happening.

I wanted to hold him. Comfort him. Pick up all the pieces and put him back together again. I wanted to tell him everything was going to be just fine and that he would be back to normal again soon. Tell him…well, that I loved him.

It all just felt like a terrible, terrible dream. It was absolutely wonderful in the beginning—being in love. Yes, I know. It was a short amount of time. But it was just one of those incidents where you simply know. Without questioning.

Even when I was living with that man, it felt too good to ever be true. And when I left, we both had woken up from our short dream. It was a dream that no matter how hard we tried to return to by sleeping again, we simply never could. It wasn't that easy, unfortunately. There was now an emptiness in my heart. Like these dreams, where you aren't sure if they ever happened at all in the first place, but faint hints stick with you forever.

Apparently—much to my surprise—Alfred did not deal well with waking up from our dream. I watched as he broke down, cursed God's name, and sometimes, even mine. I watched as he screamed and shouted, threw things and punched walls. He wouldn't eat. He wouldn't sleep. He wouldn't even smile unless it was to feign happiness. He was never happy. And it was my fault. It was all my fucking fault.

After his last episode at work I decided I was fed up. I couldn't stand seeing him this way.

So, I went to God—the last person who I would ever turn to, yet, he was my only hope after all.

"Ah, Arthur. What's the matter, my child? You seem troubled."

Old git. He knew well what was the matter. He didn't have to ask me. I stared at the ground. I never really liked talking to him. After all, asking for help was not exactly my cup of tea.

"Hm, let me guess. The Jones family?"

I nodded.

"Sir, please," I began, not sure how to ask Him for something in the first place. "I never ask for anything. I have done no wrong. If you could please, please, just let me see him one last time. That is all I ask of you."

I could feel his eyes narrow down on me. He wasn't a very lenient man.

"Please, sir. This is all I will ever ask of you. I love him, sir. And he's slowly, but surely, killing himself. I need to put a stop to his madness because no one else can."

I don't exactly remember when I had gotten down my knees, my nose on the ground. I had never begged for anything in my life, being the stubborn person I was. It sort of shocked me as well. We stayed that way for while and I promised that I would stay there at his feet all night if that was what it would take to save Alfred's life. Even if it meant it would be longer before we were reunited.

"You may."

My head shot up from the ground.

"On one condition."

Of course. "Anything. Anything, please, just let me see him."

He smiled down at me.

"He's the only one who will be able to see you. Hear you. Feel you. You will be invisible to the rest of the world. Once Alfred Jones had returned back to his normal health his memory will be erased and it will be as if you never existed in his life. You will be stripped completely from his mind and will have to come back once it is all over. Do you understand, son?"

With a smile I nodded in agreement, even though my own heart had just shattered into pieces.

"I understand completely, sir."

Alfred would become healthy once more, after seeing me again. And then, he would forget my existence entirely.

Our love would be forfeit for Alfred's life.

But it was what must be done.

"Farewell, my child."

Whether I liked it or not.