Hey guys! Thanks for reading this fanfiction. I've been so surprised and grateful for the views that it's gotten so far! I know that there are things that I can improve on in my writing, but the fact that this story is enjoyable to you nonetheless means a ton. 3
"America?"
England peered into the bedroom. America was laying on the wooden bed, seemingly asleep. England would not describe him as comfortable. Alfred's eyes were screwed shut, and his breathing was heavy and labored. Overall, the younger nation looked much sicker than Britain had previously thought.
I guess the recession hit him pretty hard, mused England. He really couldn't blame Alfred for missing the World Meeting. America seemed miserable.
Cautiously, England made his way over to his sleeping brother. I don't know what I should do, he fretted. He didn't know how America would receive his trespasses, whatever the intention. Their relationship wasn't exactly chummy at the moment.
Sighing, England sat down on the bed. It was the first time he had been in proximity to his brother like this in centuries. He missed it. Nowadays the two countries' relationship was chilly at best. Most of their conversations brought on a petty argument of some sort. Suddenly, America inhaled sharply. Britain began to rub his back, trying to release some of the tension in the sick nation's chest. He was surprised at just how much heat emanated from the country's body. He must have a very high fever.
America began to stir. Shoot, England thought, what if he doesn't want me here? Alfred turned his head to look at his brother.
"England?" he asked weakly, "What are you doing here?" Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. The blonde nation didn't seem upset about England's presence. Britain jumped as Alfred went into a coughing fit.
"Shh, love," England chided, massaging America's back. Love. England hadn't called America that since the Revolution. Bittersweet memories tugged at his throat. "Just sleep."
"Wh-what's going on?" America responded as the attack subsided. He sounded distressed now. Was he sick enough to be delirious?
"You're sick," Arthur reminded him, "Your economy's in recession." To his surprise, England saw the glisten of tears enter America's eyes.
"Right... the recession," Alfred paused, choking back a sob. "England - I don't know what I'm going to do."
The country was full on crying now. England pulled America into a closer embrace, trying his best to comfort his sick brother. Alfred hiccoughed before continuing.
"My people - they're suffering and I have no idea about what I can do to make it better," he whispered. "How can I be a hero if I can't keep my country afloat?"
"America..." Britain murmured, "you don't have to be infallible to be a hero. Every hero's journey has its ups and downs. Sometimes, all it takes is knowing that things will get better, no matter who or what's against you." England thought about a time, long ago, when America had taken that to heart. It had earned him his freedom.
"I guess," said Alfred, still in tears. A worried expression passed across the younger nation's face, and he shifted to look at his brother. "England?"
"Yes Alfred?" prompted Arthur.
"You're not going to leave again, are you?" Surprised, England pressed a gentle kiss to his little brother's forehead. Was it wrong for him to enjoy his former charge's temporary dependence on him? He pushed away the thought.
"America, I'll never leave you when you need me," he responded. Sighing, Alfred closed his eyes.
Their conversation over, England took a look around the room. He was shocked to see that little had changed from when America was a little colony. The walls were the same pastel striped pattern (a bit young for him, England thought), the bed was an exact replica of the one he slept in as a child - but what surprised Britain the most was the regiment of toy soldiers that stood in the corner, the very same ones that England had meticulously painted all those years ago. A singular tear rolled down his face.
Britain snuggled himself further into the bed, being careful not to wake America. As the night grew deeper, the two fell asleep, with the younger still in his brother's arms.
Oh man, the feels. Not sure if I should leave it here, or if I should add an epilogue. Leave your opinion in your review! Thanks again to all of you guys for following and favoriting. It means a lot to me, especially considering this is my first fanfic.