Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Shots by Imagine Dragons.
Inspiration: Shots - Imagine Dragons
Summary: France watches the end of a familiar conflict through unfamiliar eyes.
Title: Parting Shots
At the edge of the field is where he stands. On the outside, looking in on a conflict that didn't have to affect him, in which he'd had no real reasons to involve himself.
Well, technically revenge counts as a real reason, doesn't it? Not a good one, but a reason nonetheless. Still France finds that justification quickly shriveling up into an excuse as he watches, thick sheets of icy rain crashing against an earth painted monochrome grey under the filtered light of the swollen sky.
There across the field stands a lone British soldier, the only speck of real color in this sad world, as if by merely existing in the state he does he has drained all the warmth out of the stark, unforgiving landscape. Facing him is an entire enemy regiment in mottled blues, whites, browns, the default uniform of an amateur army. And at the head is a figure he himself has come to know well: tall and strong, unwavering as he stares down the equally familiar silhouette of the redcoat even as he stands weaponless in the rain.
France can only imagine the look on Britain's face, as he sets his musket's sights on a man who still seems no different from the time when he was a smiling infant at the center of another, happier, grassy field. That time, too, France had been the outsider, privy to the vision of a softer side of his indomitable, insufferable archrival. When it comes to America, it seems he is forever doomed to be the third wheel.
Even now, as he takes his place among those of the victors, he doesn't quite belong between them. Even now, in this war, England sees only America's betrayal, and America, only Britain's anger.
He watches, unmoving, as England's bayonet quivers, then drops, its master dropping with it. He watches, and wonders.
Whether Britain, so small and frail on the ground, can ever stand again.
Whether England, so adept at holding grudges, will ever see eye to eye with America again.
Whether Arthur, a man too often broken and cruelly used, will ever dare to let his humanity show once more.
And somehow, he can't shake the feeling that he's committed some terrible crime, that it was his hand, not America's, that fired the final shot.