So basically my summer is like "working, working, get home from work, HETALIA LOL I HAVE NO LIFE!"

Why can't I, like, study or do something useful with my life?

Anyway, new chappie, enjoy and please review!

FILE #5: Revolution

The hands of the ticking clock on the bedside table beside the sleeping France showed that it was 3:38 in the morning. He was in the midst of a restless dream when he was jarred awake by his front door being savagely beaten. He sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and sighed deeply. To say that he had not been expecting this for days would be a lie. It was only last weekend that he had signed the Treaty of Alliance, recognizing the United States of America as an independent country and not just as a colony of Great Britain. With shipments of soldiers and weapons underway, it was only a matter of time before England discovered France and America's alliance.

He pulled on a lush housecoat and plushy slippers and made his way tiredly towards the front door. This wasn't going to be fun. He had been intrigued when America had declared independence from England, but never imagined that someone as small and naïve would have a hope of posing a challenge to someone as old and established as the island country. America's victory at Saratoga shocked the other countries, however, and the idea of a possible American triumph took a leap towards becoming a reality. Bolstered by hope, France took the initiative of paying a visit to America to offer his assistance.

Upon closer examination, France realized that America was younger and even worse off than he originally thought; the budding country had little more than sure knowledge of his home terrain and endless passion to aid him in his fight. His stash of weapons was inadequate, his training was pathetic, and his lack of sophisticated uniforms was appalling (probably something he'd learned from England…) America needed money, safe ports for ships, and more men. France, impressed by how far the former colony had pushed himself, agreed to provide as much assistance as he could.

And now it seemed that England had just found out about the whole business.

France cursed quietly to the ceiling, then opened his front door. As predicted, England was standing on his doorstep, bruised and beside himself with anger. France held up his hands. "Now, Angleterre, before you rush into-"

"You. Bastard." England spat, staring at his nemesis with hatred pouring off his body like sweat. "You miserable, contemptible, vile bastard. How dare you stick your oversize nose into MY business with MY colonies. How DARE you condone America's treason against the crown."

A weighty choice was before France. He could either slam the door in England's face and go back to bed or he could stay up and try to talk this out. Knowing that England would continue to badger him until satisfied, he realized that confronting the situation head-on was the only viable option if he valued his sanity. Having come to this decision, he stepped back, opened the door wider, and invited England in. "Come, come, 'ave a seat. We will talk."

"Absolutely not," England replied coldly. "I refuse to enter your house."

France sighed. "Mon Dieu, fine, 'ave it your way. Stand in ze doorway forever for all I care. I, 'owever, am going to pull up a chair." He did so, sat in it, and templed his fingers. The two men stared at each other for a long moment. "I believe you came 'ere because you had somezing to say, so say it."

England stood with his lips pressed together for a bit, then asked, "Is it true that you have offered my colony, America, aid with his ridiculous rebellion?"

"Your former colony, oui."

England ignored that. "You have offered money, weapons, and men?"

"Oui."

Bushy eyebrows contracted even tighter and the smaller country's fist clenched. His speech was pained, pleading for reason. "Wh-why? France…why would you do this..?"

Sighing deeply, France leaned back deeper into his chair. "Ah. Zere are two reasons. First, I agree with Amerique's position in zis matter."

England waved that away. "We'll get back to that later. What's the second reason?"

"Simple. I don't like you, Angleterre."

Silenced by incredulity, England just stood. Finally he regained his voice. "What does that have to do with anything?"

France laughed unpleasantly. "I like making you mad! It's really quite amusing…"

With a fluid motion, England stepped into the house and slammed the door behind himself. "Do you not understand, frog?" He hissed, leaning over to grip the arms of France's chair. France pulled back, unused to the other's proximity. "This isn't about you and me and our stupid bickering. This is about America. What we do right now may very well decide his future and ours."

"Yes, yes, you're right, which is why I stand by 'im. 'e deserves 'is freedom. You…you do not give 'im enough credit, Angleterre. 'e needs room to grow."

"No, he needs guidance and a firm hand," England growled, standing up straight again. "He is a headstrong child who has grown physically but not mentally. He needs direction; direction I can give him."

France shook his head. "No. You are wrong. 'ave you talked to 'im lately? 'e 'as plans, good plans, and 'e wants to build a government. You have babied 'im for too long and zis is 'ow 'e chooses to tell you! Let 'im go and 'e will be a country, equal to you (but not quite to me) in every way!"

"He will die." England responded coldly. "That's why I fight. I will not let him unknowingly commit suicide."

"You fight because you are a tyrant in disguise. You like ze power you 'old over 'im. It makes you feel needed, important."

Hot anger blazed through England again and he shouted at his adversary. "You are just jealous that he chose me and not you! You have been jealous since the beginning! Finally, I have something that you do not and you can't handle it!"

France stood up also, red. "Zat is a lie! Tell me, Angleterre, why do you care so much about zis Amerique?"

"He's my colony. My little brother. Of course I care, what are you getting at?"

"Is not Canada, little Matthieu, also your colony?"

"Yes."

"And Hong Kong? India? Australia? Them also?"

"Y-yes, they are. So what?" England backed away from France's advance.

France stopped and smiled at the other. "Zen why do you care so much about Amerique? You 'ave so many colonies, surely it would not matter very much if one of zem defected. I can not see you making such a ruckus over Australia or Canada."

Clearly this thought had never run across England's mind, judging by the way he froze. He thought back to his dealings with his colonies and tried to disprove what France had said, but found that he could not. It was true. America was…different. "Th-that's…hardly pertinent."

"Why Amerique? Is it because you won 'im from me? Does zat make you feel powerful?"

"Bollocks! That's not it at all!" England shouted.

"What is it, zen?"

"He's…he's the most important person to me, all right?" England cried. "With him I feel…whole. Becoming his mentor was the best thing that ever happened to me and I won't stand to see him fall now. I…I can't be without him, can't you see?" He turned his back to France. "No matter how well-intentioned, I will not let someone take him away."

France cocked his head to the side, genuinely surprised. He had not thought that, just maybe, England's intentions and fears were real, that his actions were motivated by more than power lust and greed. What was this? Weakness? Actual affection? What? "You know you could still be friends wiz Amerique even if he was independent," he mentioned timidly. "Just because your relationship isn't country and colony anymore does not mean you must be estranged."

"No." England faced France again and waved a hand, cutting him off. "Even if…even if he survived, it wouldn't be the same. I don't know how to trust him anymore. He won't tell me the reason behind this bloody war; he keeps citing 'freedom' but that's not enough." He walked towards the door but stopped in front of it. "I want him back, safe, under my care. I don't want him to leave me…I care about him more than he could ever suspect, the stupid git!"

France stood and cast about for something to say, but was stopped again by his guest, who spoke once more in front of the door. "I will fight you until I have nothing left, d'you hear? A-and, though he doesn't know what he's doing, the twat, I will fight America because I-I love the boy and that's the truth."

"'e is a man now."

England stepped out the door. "Not to me."

"Angleterre…" France started, but the other was gone. Quietly, he closed the door and put away the chair he had sat in. For a long time he lay in bed, curious and uneasy. "You say you fight because 'e is not a man to you, eh, Angleterre?" He turned on his side and closed his eyes. "Perhaps he fights for ze same reason."

oOoOo

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