Author's Note-Hey everyone. I guess it is time to wrap things up, but before I do I just really wanted to take the opportunity to thank everyone who took the time to read this story. Thank you especially to all of you that wrote review or sent me PM's. You really help me be excited posting the chapters on time. Also thank you to pengirl100and2, UsuiXMisakilover, and bookwormally for reviewing the last chapter.
Disclaimer-Still don't own Hetalia…
Epilogue- A Decade
Twenty-six Canadian names written in stone…twenty-nine if you counted the people who were married to Canadians or who had lived in Canada for most of their lives…twenty-six names, significantly less than England's sixty-eight, Dominican Republic's forty-seven, or India's forty-one…miniscule compared with America's two thousand six hundred and five etched names, but was still painfully high. Canada's eyes were pulled away from the name he saw America place his and next to his on the stone slab.
"Mathew…Thank you for coming."
"How could I not come?" Canada replied soberly, refusing to meet his brother's eyes.
"Most didn't…most nations…" America's voice was unnaturally quiet. "Most of the nations who lost people at this place have monuments at home, and have their own way of remembering this day. And this year Kiru had his own memorial services to attend."
"It's been six months hasn't it?"
"Yes it has." Neither nation had to speak of what it was. The memory of giving aid to Japan was still fresh in their minds. Both could see the imagines of the swath of coastline that had been swallowed by the massive tsunami, the fear about the possibility of a nuclear meltdown. The thoughts cause other memories to surface…memories of the piles of debris that once dominated downtown Manhattan a decade ago.
While it was true that this year's ceremony was nearly devoid of nations, there were an overwhelming number of states. Apparently his brother had insisted that the states attend and they came. Everyone from jet lagged California with is beach tan and chipper Maryland in a crisp suit to a wind worn Wyoming with his private's strips and sunburned Alaska in Air Force blues. The latter two fresh out of the battlefield, though Canada couldn't tell you which. It was getting difficult to remember which war the US was currently being deployed in. Libya, Iraqi, Afghanistan, Somalia…there were just so many of them Canada could barely keep track.
The formalities of the memorial service washed over him. The calming hum of voices, the careful choreography of respect, but it was not the formal display that captured Canada's attention. Instead it his eyes were drawn the people in the crowd. To the faces of firefighters who had worked in the rubble and the people who had survived the attack. Here on this day there were people who had never seen the Twin Tower in person, and those whose parents, brothers, sisters, wives and husbands had gone to work in them never to return. The monument which stretched before them seemed not only embody the absence of those lost people, but also the flow of life and time itself. Yes there were certainly tears, but there were smiles peaking through some of them.
The memory of that day of terror faded in many ways. The changes made in the aftermath of September 11th had faded from inconvenience to habit. The United States had once again become a nation in perpetual war. A point illustrated by the fact that many children in the crowd could not remember at time when America was not fighting. Canada had to remind himself that he been at war nearly as long, many of his own nation's children also had never know peace.
"Mathew, would you like to join us for lunch?" His twin's voice jolted Canada back to the present moment.
"I really do need to get back to Canada. There are some ceremonies I need to attend this afternoon."
"You sure?" America's eyes were kind, but had a slight edge of pleading.
"Yes I am sure…" Canada gave his brother a sad soft smile before continuing. "Thanks for the offer though."
Leaving the memorial was faster than he expected. It only took a few moments for Canada to a few murmured condolences New York, Virginia, and Pennsylvania, to give quiet hug to New Jersey, and a nod to Alaska. Then he left sorrow of Ground Zero behind.
Canada was not surprised to find that JFK airport was incredibly quiet. Nor was he shocked to discover the security heightened, but it was a practiced alert that still allowed passengers to move smoothly. He took off his shoes and coat, then walked through the full body scanner, sniffer, and metal detector.
Stepping off the plane on his side of the border felt liberating. He could now spend the rest of the day focusing on his own country. It had been a decade since the fall of the Twin Towers. Canada had it own lost citizens to morn and the unity of Operation Yellow Ribbon to celebrate.
Flying had changed. At one time it had been fun, exciting, and even glamorous. Now it involved practically getting undressed for security then squeeze into metal tube that felt more like a sardine can than an aircraft. Alaska shifted in her seat trying to find a more comfortable position; she finally gave up when her neighbor began giving her odd looks. She began to leaf through a paperback novel she had purchased at the bookstore. It was doing a very poor job of keeping her interest.
"Army?" The older woman next there inclined her chin toward the uniform Alaska was wearing.
"Air Force, actually." Alaska replied.
"So you are a pilot?"
"Yes and no." Alaska sighed inwardly. She always hated to answer this question. "I have a private pilot's license but I don't fly for the military."
"Oh…" The woman seemed to have trouble processing the fact that not everyone in the United States Air Force flew fighter jets. "Then what do you do for the military."
"I am a special operations weatherman."
"A what?"
"A special operations weatherman, it means that I produce weather reports to help keep out troops safe." Alaska explained patiently. "I determine when it and if it is safe to fly, and I make measurements to help insure that our ordinance hits the intend targets."
"Oh…That's nice." The expression older woman's face indicated that really wasn't interested. She turned back to the knitting in her lap, leaving Alaska in an awkward silence. She considered trying to go back to her book when the man across the aisle spoke.
"So you have finished your deployment?" He was rather non-descript, but his face was kind. Even so Alaska could tell that he was a soldier. The scent of battle never leaves.
"Actually I am only on leave."
"Iraq?" He guessed, most like because of the sunburns spread across her nose and cheeks.
"Libya." Alaska let a slight smile curved across her lips. "Where did you serve?"
The man looked a bit surprised at her question then returned a sad smile of his own. "Afghanistan, three deployments as a combat medic."
"LED?" Alaska nodded toward the artificial leg that peeked through a gap between his pant leg and his shoe
"Friendly Fire."
"Ouch, unfortunately I know the feeling though." She didn't need to mention say that she had been lucky, that was without question. She also failed to mention that the wound came from a battle far from the deserts of Libya, during a war before he was born.
"At least you came out of it with the use of all your limbs." The man joked.
"And most of the digits." Alaska winked, as she wiggled her fingers. "So what is bringing you to Alaska?"
"Fishing mostly." The former soldier shrugged. "Knowing good places."
"I actually know of several places. I did grow up in the State after all." Alaska smiled, as she pulled out the state map she always had in her bag. "Tell me what where you are planning on visiting and I will give you some tips on where the fish bite."
The rest of the flight to Anchorage was spent in cheerful chatter talking about fishing spots, the best bait, where to grab a beer. Unfortunately, Alaska didn't have the same distraction on her flight from Anchorage to Fairbanks. She was tired, but couldn't sleep. Instead she caught herself reflecting on the events of the past decades.
It was an unspoken rule that when a nation's troops deployed for battle, that nation people who be in the trenches with their citizens. Part of the reason was to lend their strength to their people, but a bigger reason was to help defend their secret. It was their job to capture the opposing nation's personification, and Alaska had been assigned to find Afghanistan.
Alaska had met Afghanistan once during the cold war. She had stood out in the crowd, graceful in a dove gray suit and heals, dark hair flowing around her like water. Honestly she could have easily been confused for being any western woman if it wasn't for the loosely wrapped headscarf, dark circles around her eyes, and the hidden bandages of country with their own internal struggles.
When they invaded it had took Alaska four months to find her. When Alaska finally did find Afghanistan in a small hut in the mountains, she had shied away from Alaska's touch like a kicked puppy, a country falling apart under the strain of war. Initially she had refused to remove her veil. Alaska felt sick when she did. Under the cloth the face was unrecognizable, the Taliban had left her face so brutally scarred. Alaska wasn't sure if it would heal or if those scars would always stay, a constant reminder of what was lost.
Then came Iraq. America's forces had been split three ways with forces already deployed in Afghanistan and protecting the nation's borders. America had a greater and greater need for experienced troops. That had meant that he pulled heavily from America's only militarized border, that between Alaska and Russia.
Alaska had to admit that deploying some of her men to the deserts of the Middle East may have been a mistake. Her men were not wimps, but they were also the one of the most specialized polar forces on the planet. They were trained to fight and thrive in places where the normal human would die within hours. They could drive tanks over frozen ice and mask their tracks in the snow. They had neither the equipment nor the experiences to be a successful fighting force in the urban combat.
Fighting in 100 plus degree heat with over 75 pounds of gear was rough on any soldier, but it had torn through the Alaskan troops like a plague. Alaskan troops suffered from much higher rates of heat exhaustion and stroke, then the general army. To compensate for the heat, her soldiers were forced to become slow and sluggish. Unfortunately this left them an open to enemy attack.
In the end America was forced to admit that most of the Alaskan's were not up to the task, and focused their deployment to Afghanistan where their rough outdoor training and there tolerance for cold gave them the upper hand. Only the air force units would be deployed into the heat. As troop levels were draw down in Afghanistan and Iraq, the smaller states began to shoulder more of the burden of deployment. Alaska led the pack.
The reflection left Alaska in a depressed fog, as she disembarked at her final destination. She stretched and moved with the flow of people. As she walked she tried to decide if she should attempt pick up her truck from the military base and to her cabin or if she should simply get a hotel room and crash. The headache building at her temples indicated that the hotel room might be the wiser decision.
"Alaska!" Alaska was nearly bulled over as something with a lot of momentum connected with her legs. She looked down to see the young face of Nunavut beaming up at her.
"Atka." Northwest's skirt was swirling around her legs as she slowed to a walk. "What did we talk about in the car?"
"Oh. Sorry Aunty Samantha." Nunavut failed to look apologetic. In fact, he exuded enough energy, that Alaska was wondering if Yukon and snuck the territory some coffee that morning. "I was just so happy to see you so I forgot."
"It is okay Nunatsiaq and I am sure no one noticed." It was a lie. Alaska could feel the looks of the many passengers who were at the luggage carrousel on her back as she dropped to her knees to hug the child. They were probably talking about them, but Alaska wasn't going to let the territory know she was embarrassed by the attention.
"Really?" The child's wide eyes were filled with honest pleading. Alaska couldn't help but smile.
"Really."
"Don't you think that Aunt Samantha might be hungry?" Northwest was now standing behind the boy and looking down at the two of them. "She is did just finish flying across the continent after all. It is a very long flight."
"I forgot." Nunavut looked shyly through his eyelashes. "Don't worry Aunt Samantha, Mama thought of everything."
"We figured that all you want to do is relax after traveling so far." Yukon explained almost looking apologetic for you territory. It was pretty clear the Nunavut didn't notice as the child was once again bouncing on his heels.
"Yep, I helped Logan and Mama make a really, really big feast back at your cabin."
"Did you?"
"We made everything! We made sourdough bread, and fireweed jelly, and smoked salmon, and we have caribou and musk ox steaks to grill, and I am most convinced Nunatsiaq to make jelly moose nose, but she said that we didn't have enough time to make it and that I needed to help with the dusting the bookshelves and..." Nunavut child like chatter continued, but Alaska tuned it out as she was completely absorbed by looking out of the floor to ceiling windows of the airport lobby. The morning sun was peaking over the Alaskan Range bathing the black spruce in it rays. Oh how she had missed her own landscape, her own trees, her own mountains.
Alaska was brought back into the present as she felt fingers intertwined with her own. She looked down to Yukon smiling at her as he manhandled her military duffle bag with his other arm. Rough lips brushed against her check.
"Welcome back."
She gently drew away from Yukon and to take all of him in. He looked good in the slightly rumpled suit, even though his hair was disheveled as always. She glanced over at Nunavut and Northwest, the younger territory a bundle of giggles and energy, the older a solid as an old growth cedar. For a few long breaths she simply took in Canada's territories, before she gathered her family into her arms. She took a deep breath, savoring their scents.
"It is so good to be home."
End note- Well, all good things must come to an end. I will admit this was a fun story to write. I hope that it has been an interesting read, as well as exposed new side of history. I also hope that you will leave a review. Your feedback not only makes my day, but helps me become a better author.
Also, if you like this story, I would encourage you to join me for the next one. After Japan bombs Pearl Harbor, that America's Pacific territories soon also come under fire. Part of Alaska is captured Japanese, leaving America and Canada with the difficult task of forcing the occupying force off of North America. The North America twins quickly discover arctic seas, harsh weather, and volatile volcanoes of the Aleutian Island chain maybe more dangerous than the human enemy. So if that sounds interesting join me for "In the Cradle of Storms."