Canon vs Fanon (Hetalia)
Author: Ashynarr
Summary: Because sometimes the fandom needs to be reminded what canon is actually like...
Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.
Warning: This is making use of my America and Canada in the comparison (as the 'canon' characters, although I will admit they aren't completely true to canon). If you want to know more, check out my stories!
((Human names are (my) canon chars, Nation names are fanon chars.))
Part the Thirteenth: How To Deal With Evil Alternates
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"You know it had to happen eventually," Matthew tried to comfort, though his expression belayed the forced humor in his voice.
"I know, infinities make everything inevitable, it's just…" Alfred groaned, having taken his glasses off so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. "It's really fucking disturbing, you know?"
"How do you think I feel when we meet one of the crazy versions of me?" His brother asked, bumping shoulders briefly.
"Probably that you'd do the same thing if you could hide the bodies in time," The American joked weakly, though he did bump shoulders back. "I mean, their anger is usually just against me, maybe Artie and Francy too depending, but this version of me…"
Matthew looked up to the sky. "It's like how you were during the McCarthy era all over again."
"It's like how I was a lot of times," Alfred corrected quietly. "I know how easily I can obsess over showing someone up - I have to be better, faster, smarter, because I don't stand a chance otherwise. This guy… he scares me because I know I could've been him if I had made the wrong choices."
Nearly a minute passed in silence before the Canadian replied. "You're already planning your dramatic entrance, aren't you?"
"Obviously," Alfred retorted. "I'm thinking the ceiling, I already have a great one liner in mind."
"He's probably got snipers watching for people taking that route."
"That's why I keep you around, brah."
"He's got a couple Nations hostage, and claims he's got a way to kill them permanently."
"You can get them out in time to let them watch my epic beatdown of my evil twin."
"I thought I was your evil twin?"
"Only on Tuesdays and during hockey season."
Matthew snorted. "Fine, but I get to use the phasers, since I have no idea what I'll need to melt to get to them."
Alfred pulled both out of his pockets, handing them over to his brother ceremoniously. "Just don't lose 'em, got it?"
"Sir, yes sir," Matthew offered a lazy salute, the two grinning in the way that once had Gilbert and Ludwig running for the hills.
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Naturally, America was able to roll out of the way of the piece of ceiling Alfred kicked out in order to make his entrance, but that hadn't been the point. The point was, of course, style, and he nailed it when he hit the ground in a crouch that would have broken human legs but, well.
There were advantages to being as awesome as he was.
"Hey, dude," Alfred spoke, glasses glinting as he readjusted them. "I came from the ceiling because you need to stop."
"Is this their new plan, then?" His evil doppleganger sneered, unimpressed. "Kill me off and replace me with some pliable mimic?"
"Nah, I'm too awesome for that," Alfred replied. "You, on the other hand, are being completely not cool."
"Oh really?" America asked, whipping a gun out of his jacket. "And how, pray tell, are you going to do that?"
"By punching you in the face until you repent," Alfred replied cheerfully, pushing himself the second the words left his lips to nail his double in the stomach before he could react. "I've been reliably informed by Mattie that that almost always works."
"Fuck- *coughcough* -you," America wheezed, regaining his bearing just in time to catch the next swing.
"Sorry, don't swing that way."
The two exchanged blows, neither able to strike a solid blow against the other due to their matched reflexes and strength. Alfred, however, hadn't been focused on a hit, but on removing the gun from the equation, succeeding after a couple of traded blows that ended with him getting a hand around the barrel long enough to disable it.
"Why are you doing this?" America demanded after another round of blows, wiping some blood from the corner of his mouth. "Can't you see how corrupt this world is? Someone needs to change it for it's own good!"
Alfred huffed a laugh. "What, like we're beacon models of perfection? Dude, the reason the Founding Fathers made us a republic was because they knew better than anyone that people are gonna fuck up no matter what they do, but at least there'll always be a way to get someone out of power, a way to make sure there's some justice in the world."
"Oh yes, because that turned out so well," America snarked. "The people are too stupid to know what's best for them-"
Alfred briefly saw red, and when he rubbed the painful flash of light out of his eyes he saw a blackened hole in the other's head, courtesy of a maxed-out phaser blast nearly point-blank. "Sheesh, took you long enough."
"The layout is confusing, alright?" The Canadian replied, frowning down at the weapon. "Uh, I might've burned this out with that last shot, though."
"It's fine, Tony'll fix it. Everyone okay?" He asked, taking back the weapons and pocketing them again.
"Yes, they've got some bruises and some trauma, but nothing they can't recover from."
Both their gazes moved to the corpse, the seriousness of the situation coming to mind.
Sure, he could've drawn the fight out to get information, maybe even a monologue if he was lucky, but he wasn't going to bet his life on the idea that his counterpart wasn't trope savvy enough to think of that. There was being heroic, and then there was being just plain dumb.
And Alfred? Well, no one had ever accused him of a lack of raw intellect when it came down to the wire.
"He's got a lot of contingency plans in place," Matthew replied idly.
"It'd be a real shame if some alternate universe do-good version of him came along and derailed them all before he recovered, wouldn't it?" Alfred agreed, wearing the same smile that'd once bullshitted him out of nuclear war with Ivan.
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AN: Because it had to happen eventually, and we all know Alfred would not put up with that sort of slandering of his own good name, so whelp. Also, this is a bizarre thing to write in light of memories of liking Dark!America things a few years back. Man, tastes change, huh?