i left it all behind, and never said goodbye
i left it all behind, and never said goodbye
i left it all behind, and never said goodbye
i left it all to die

-AFI

Alfred's father was in the Army - a charismatic, charming, very competent man who was slated for general's stars, and who was sent all over the world to represent the United States Armed Forces. It was during a stint in England that little Alfred had met Arthur in the first place. It was a reassignment to Germany that had torn the two little boys apart. He was not a cruel man; he genuinely loved his son. But he had always hoped that his golden boy, his smart, strong, athletic son would follow him into the Army; he had been disappointed at Alfred's insistence at attending Hetalia Academy instead of the military school where he and his father - Alfred's grandfather - had been educated.

And look how right he was! One year in that effete European institution had turned his son from a happy, popular boy into a sullen, glaring troublemaker. Colonel George W. Jones just knew this would never have happened if he'd put Alfred into the Fortress like he had wanted.

So he did. He called in some favors, promised some more, used his name and his father's, and got his son enrolled as a first-year cadet into the West Virginia Military Academy - nicknamed the Fortress.

The funny thing was how Alfred's being at the Fortress was exactly the opposite route of how he had been at Hetalia. He'd arrived in Hetalia golden and shining, feeling sun-blessed. Everyone loved him. He loved everyone, but especially Arthur. And then everything went bad, and the gold tarnished into dark, cold iron-feelings.

He came to the Fortress snarling and angry, a troublemaker with a reputation. He hated everyone; everyone watched him warily. But the teachers didn't coo at him and pet him (didn't lean too close to students, didn't watch with too-hungry eyes and too-wide smiles) they snapped and barked and demanded. There was no time for moping under the military time-schedule, every hour dedicated to a purpose. Wake-eat-train-study-prepare-sleep, and start all over again at the piercing call of the bugle.

Alfred found himself thriving under military discipline, honing his mind and body and leaving his wounded heart alone. And as he'd started out bright and ended dark in Hetalia, he started out dark and ended up bright and happy and valued at the military school, his mind fixed on the schedule until he looked up one day and realized he had friends and he was learning new things every day, that he was doing well.

And then for the first time in a long time Alfred F. Jones smiled a genuine smile, and the boys around him laughed and jostled him in friendly fashion.

Arthur didn't dare ask after Alfred. So he had to content himself with eavesdropping on Matthew Williams, Alfred's Canadian cousin, listening with hungry ears and a hungry heart as Williams told his friend Yong Soo about emails from his cousin, about Alfred's new start at a military school, about how he had been the shame of the family and was now looking to be the pride again. Matthew talked about jokes Alfred was beginning to make again, mistakes and triumphs in drill and parade that took the place of practice hi-jinks, his new friends and new teachers and new classes.

Arthur would creep away and lock himself in the council room and shake.

If he really loved Alfred, he would be happy to hear that the other boy was doing so well. If he really loved Alfred, he'd smile to hear jokes that he was making for Matthew, he'd nod his head and know how good it was that Alfred had good friends in that new school.

But he wasn't happy. He was angry and sad and hurt. He wanted Alfred back here in Hetalia, here where there was Braginsky and Bonnefoy and teachers who traded A's for asses, favors for 'favors'. He was jealous of Alfred's new friends and wanted them gone, wanted them all gone, wanted to be the center of Alfred's world again. He even hated Williams a little, and the friends Williams shared tidbits of Alfred's new life with openly, remembered Williams' name only because of his having Alfred even if only in electronic email form while Arthur did not.

He wanted Alfred back and he didn't want to want it - the story of his life with teenage Alfred, wanting and not wanting all mixed up in a confusing, hurtful tangle. It had been simpler when they were children, when all they had to do was want simple childish wants and it would be given them. Everyday he wished for that, for an angel to come down and touch them with star-tipped wands, turn back the clock and turn them back to when they had been happy.

He had stopped sleeping with the other students; not that they minded, because the last few times - right after Alfred had left, and Arthur was drunk all the day long - Arthur had lain there limp and unresponsive, blank green eyes looking beyond their sweaty bodies to some place they did not see and could not follow him to, and they were left panting and unsatisfied and vaguely ashamed. The teachers too stopped, Arthur not forcing them to stop but merely becoming too uncomfortable to play with - too dead-eyed and cold-bodied, no sounds torn from his throat. And then Arthur's grades began to dip and he knew that during the next elections someone else would have his seat as council president.

But he didn't care.

And then during semester break, after the exams Arthur hardly remembered, Matthew invited him to spend a week with him in Canada. With Matthew and with Alfred.

Arthur stared with light coming back into his eyes, and couldn't gulp out a yes past the lump in his throat, so instead he nodded his head until his hair flopped into his eyes.