Well here we go; the epilogue of the story! Sorry again if this seems short and what not but you had been warned at the beginning. I'm actually surprised I got to this many chapters :)

To all my readers, followers and reviewers I want to personally thank you for your support! I love you guys and I hope you will stick around for the other stories that I shall be writing this summer and beyond that.

And now without anymore random rambling; here's the epilogue! :D

Britain sighed, resting his left cheek against his fist as his eyes felt heavier by the second.

He looked outside his office window and took a deep breath, finally feeling the warm sun on his skin. It had been some time since they had seen the sun shine has much as it was now; the fear of flooding and emergency evacuations had been the main points of discussion for a week now until the rain had for once gave in and retreat for some time.

Britain was grateful for such gesture from Mother Nature. The alerts had been brought down and they could now concentrate on the important matter of the day:

That's right: today they would have to bid adieu to France.

It was never easy to say goodbye to someone with whom you were close with (even through all those wars they had gone through against each other), and it had even been harder to say goodbye to his own flesh and blood...

America... Britain thought about that dark night that had happened over a week ago. The mob had found the man in his own estate, and while they had launched themselves inside that office breathless America had stood in the middle of the room and did not speak a word.

Every single part of Britain's body thought about the justice that had to be given; it had been the main reason why he had wanted to end this on his own. America had been his son and had been his responsibility - his life - which had probably been the reason why his heart had wanted to go against every fiber in his body.

But even as the gun had been aimed at his face Alfred - America - hadn't moved a muscle. Instead he waited as two soldiers grabbed his hands and placed them behind his back to tie them there. Once the small man was pushed to his knees Britain nodded to the men to move back, but found that one of them had other plans...

"Spain!" Britain shouted with a sharp tone as the Spanish grabbed a small dagger from inside his jacket.

"This motherfucker deserves more than just a simple bullet through the forehead, Britain! Can you not understand what he has done? What about our friend who was -"

The sentence wasn't finished: Britain saw Japan grabbing the Spaniard by the hands and in a matter a second the dagger had drop on the floor, followed by Spain himself who simply let himself drop down, his hands fisted tightly against the cold floor.

"I... I just... Why?"

Britain's eyes remained on the tied down man as Spain's body shook next to him, tears coming down on the floor and on his hands. Without anymore hesitation Britain closed his eyes, prayed to Francis and whoever else was looking down on his from Heaven and pulled the trigger…

xXx

"Sir Britain?" The soft voice of Latvia was heard at the door and Britain couldn't help but to open his eyes at the sound of his name. Without a sound he looked up at the short man who was trembling with fear - it was most likely that even through all the tension this week Russia still terrified the three Baltic States.

"We are waiting for you downstairs, Sir."

The final goodbye, he thought. Damn it was never easy to say goodbye to someone, no matter how much a pain in the ass he had been. He thought about how America's farewell had been totally different (as he had been the only one to attend the unknown location service).

He nodded in thanks to Latvia before wishing some peace for himself. Before standing up though he made sure to turn his head to look outside the window, picturing a random blonde hair man looking up at him, just as he had dreamt of seeing on that night...

No, he hadn't dreamt of it, he simply couldn't have. He remembered everything: the sound of the bullet leaving the gun into the flesh of the accused, and the sound of the body dropping on the floor already lifeless as it did so. He also could remember the detail of the blood running down his son's forehead down next to his still opened eyes and mouth...

The why, why couldn't he pinpoint the truth behind that face as he looked out the window as the men that had followed him kicked and bashed the body without remorse? That face... He knew it. Those crying, pleading eyes pierced through him before the man had run away, never to be seen or found again.

No way... Britain's heart stopped in his chest at the realization that had come to his mind. How could he have been so blinded by wrath? Why did he felt as though he hadn't done the right thing?

... It couldn't have been...

How couldn't he have been able to save his children?

Britain opened his eyes and remained calm as he smiled back to Latvia. "Thank you. I will be down there in a minute."

xXx

It had been weeks since the state funeral and things had gone back to quiet once and for all. No one talked about the dark times behind them and it had been for the good of everyone.

Britain made sure to pack up his things before closing the office for the night. He had been going over extra load of work lately but didn't complain about it – this was his refuge; the only time he couldn't think about it.

He bid goodnight to the countries he met along his way down to the front entrance of the building. As he passed by Spain's office he couldn't help but to smile as he heard the scream of a woman shouting out an orgasm. The usual had also come back with Russia and his Baltic friends who had been running away from him all day, fearing the chores and demands from the big guy. As he passed in front of Sweden and Finland's adjacent offices Britain did his best not to think what was going on in there.

Truth was everything was back to the way it was for everyone but him and so was the reason why he had gone to visit the unmarked grave every day after work to clean around the grave or simply to speak to his son…

He couldn't help but to wonder at the thought of if anyone in the building actually gave a damn about following him there. After all they were all done with America's reign of terror and they were all happy about it. So why; why did he feel like every time he went for a visit someone had followed him there? Britain placed his deerstalker on his head and got outside the office building. He already knew where his next stop would be and stalker or not nothing would stop him to go see his son.

xXx

When Britain arrived at the unmarked grave he couldn't help but to gasped and dropped down the vase of small flowers he had found on his way from the car to his current position.

Someone had already come to clean the grave again, he thought as he saw the nice arrangement of flowers all around the unmarked rock that had been used as a gravestone.

Britain placed down the vase and kneeled down. He began the same prayer he did every time he came for a visit in his mind before opening his eyes and began a mental conversation with his son. Not that anyone would hear him anyways since he was in the middle of nowhere, but Britain had wanted his words to remain between the two of them.

What a crazy way to think, he had told himself one day when he had tried to understand the reasoning behind his reasons.

There had also been an addition to the scenery: a wooden cross was now by the stone. It was only when Britain noticed it that he swear to himself that he heard a branch snap nearby. He frowned as his head quickly turned to the left so he could look carefully near the forest entrance as a shadow stopped in its footsteps.

"Who goes there?" He asked, trying his best not to look scared.

There was a sudden breeze of chilly air and a long moment of silence as he waited for a hopeful reply from the stranger, his right hand slowly dragging towards his gun on his side.

And then a familiar voice stabbed him through his whole body.

"Don't ever come back here."

As the shadow ran away through the darkness of the forest, only one thought came to mind.

"Alfred?"

- The End.

There was someone who did request a version of Message of Regret... Let me know if it should be done!

Thanks again for everything, dearest readers!