AN: I'm sorry about the late update, but it's finally here. The changes I had mentined in my review that I posted will be little surprises, something for you to look for.

For people who want to use the idea I have started, they are welcome to do so. It's something that I want people to pick up on and to branch out. It would definitely be interesting to see what people can make out of this small idea. I can guarantee that it might not be the typical Civil War hetalia fanfic (( from what I'm getting so far, since I haven't seen people really utilize this idea)). If you do end up using an idea like this, message me so I can read it. I love it when people take my idea and add their own spin to things to make it interesting. (( But please, no plagerizing, unless you give full credit to where it's due and you let me know what you're going to do. I'm not going to bite, or anything. Honest. At the most, it would be a little nibble. :3 .))

I am so sorry for rambling xD It's something I am prone to.

If you do not like or intolerant of boy x boy love, please don't read. It'll be in the story, even if it won't be the main focus of the main focus.

America pairing: mentions (For now) of Germerica.
Other pairings: Sweden x Finland and France x Scotland.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia, it belongs to the brilliant person who thought it up. Please do not sue me for I have no money for you to take!

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. . . . . Chapter One

He was back at the same place he had been for many nights and many years. The same nightmare he had for years that made him wake up in tears and stir up painful memories that he wished he could forget.

He stood at the front of a crowd that were waiting for the executions of those convicted in treason, unable to move from his spot. What the crowd didn't know, was tht there was an innocent lamb among the guilty wolves there were involved in the assassination of President Lincoln.

Behind the convicted, stood a line of men dressed in blue and gold military uniforms, men that he had once been an enemy of. It wasn't him, the true traitor of the Union, that was standing at the gallows instead it was the one person who couldn't bear to favor a child or two over the others. The one that didn't kill a single person in this bloody war. The one that was still recovering from the wreckage caused by his family fighting against each other, something that he was guilty of helping.

A young man stood in the middle of criminals and traitors, his golden blonde hair matted and dirtied by dirt and blood. Half of his face was hidden away by bloodied bandages wrapped around his head, hiding the damage done to his right eye. The clothes hung off his body, rumpled and disorganized, which was rare for his brother who was raised by England to be prim and proper. Despite his condition, his brother still smiled that warm smile down to him. That gentle smile that comforted him in his childhood when he had night terrors or when he managed to land himself in trouble nearly every day with the help of the states. His one visible sky blue eye was shining with a bittersweet happiness that held a sadness within. Even when he was on death's door waiting to be judged by the people he protected for so many years, his brother still the ability to smile.

"Alfred, big brother, please," the words slipped out of his mouth like they did every time as he fought back the incoming sob. He wanted to struggle, to fight against the invisible bonds that held him in place. "Please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you!"

The last time they spoken before this day, were with insults and pleas as he left his brother sobbing for him to turn around and come back home.

"I didn't want this to happen!"

But that was what he was asking for, wasn't it? He abandoned his brother to play soldier in a war and now he was facing the consequences of his actions, and he could lose the person that was his mother, father, and big brother all in one.

"I'm sorry!"

His throat clenched painfully, making it difficult to swallow as his vision was blurred from tears. It hurt. It hurt so much. His heart made that familiar painful twisting feeling that made him feel sick to his stomach.

Like always, none of the crowd heard his words. They never did. They still screamed for the blood of the traitors.

One of the military men nodded to the executioner, who grabbed the pulley that would end his brother's life along with those bloodthirsty wolves.

The bodies dropped as their necks snapped, killing the now dead men and woman.


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The American personification woke up, sitting up quickly. From the corner of his room, he heard Independence caw worriedly. He could feel the tears trailing down his cheeks as he panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His throat was still aching like it had in his nightmare and sobs threatened to spill out.

Familiar navy blue walls surrounded him, with white trims on the top and bottom. Once his breathing calmed, he wiped away the tears. His mind kept going back to that scene, to the place where his brother died that day.

The sound of a door opening pulled his focus away from his thoughts, as someone stepped in to the room, followed by a little deer spirit.

"I heard you screaming and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

Ethan Springfield Jones, one of his many nieces and nephews that he got to know over the years. Ethan, or known as Hokolesqua by the family, was a quiet boy that he towered over easily, only being five feet and two inches in height. He had a slight feminine build that was hidden with his baggy pajamas, lightly tanned skin, and some of the most expressive pair of violet purple eyes he has seen that held concern. His spirit animal, Peoria, was a white-tailed deer fawn that followed him around.

"Did you have another nightmare?" the state asked quietly, already knowing the answer to the question. He knew about the nightmares. The emotional mess they left him in. "It was about ma, wasn't it?"

Peoria moved towards Independence's stand, curling up underneath the spirit eagle as Ethan sat on the edge of his bed. The state looked just as hesitant to talk about the person they both loved but they both knew it was going to happen anyway. Especially with the constant nightmares.

"Why did you and your siblings forgive me so easily?" the Confederacy choked, wiping away fresh new tears as his thoughts returned to his big brother. His body was trembling. "Why?" Ethan took a cloth handkerchief, dabbing away the tears gently, with a sad smile on his face.

"Ma loved you so much, probably more than you will ever know." Ethan explained softly, wrapping one arm around the heartbroken country and pulling him close. "He did what he did because he couldn't bear the thought of his people hurting you. For us to turn our anger on you would only disrespect what our mother sacrificed his life for. He died for his family. We have no right to dishonor that."

The Confederacy sniffled.

"Why does it still hurt?"

"Oh, Antinanco," Ethan whispered. "You never had the chance to heal. Your heart is still wounded from Ma's death. After his death, you were always busy trying to take care of the states as well as Ma's people. You never took time for yourself and the wound festered."

"But it's been over a hundred years," the Confederacy pointed out, earning a small sigh from Ethan.

"I know it's been over a hundred years, but just because so many years has passed doesn't mean it will make it less painful." Ethan explained patiently, never losing the soft gentle tone. "You lost someone close to you, someone who has been there almost all of your childhood and adolescence. It doesn't make you weak or pitiful for still feeling that pain."

The personification of the state of Illinois rested his head on top of the Confederacy's, as his hand drew soothing circles in to his back through his pajama top. The warmth was comfort for the shaken country. "Ma knew what he was doing when he made the choice that he did," Ethan whispered. "He saved the life of the little brother he raised. The one that was taken from him because of a war started by his people and his children. It wasn't a war he had wanted, but a war he was forced to endure. He loved you, just as much as he loved my siblings and I. Don't ever doubt that. Do you understand?"

He felt himself nodding weakly, unable to say otherwise.

"Good." Ethan gave him a gentle one armed hug, before releasing him and standing up from his seat. He started making his way to the door with Peoria moving from her spot under Independence. "Wappo is almost done making breakfast downstairs. We're having pancakes, bacon, and a side of strawberries and apple slices."

Ethan paused and turned around to face him. "Do you want me to attend the meeting in your place or do you want to?"

Ethan was a shapeshifter and he often replaced him when he was either feeling too sick or unable to go to the meetings and endure the ridicule from the other countries.

"I-I can handle it." It was a lie, but a lie that he was used to saying.

"Alright, but you know that you can always call me if you need anything," Ethan reminded him, like he did before he left for a meeting. The state was a mother hen in nature, and Nicholas wouldn't be surprised if he got it from either Alfred himself who had been a very motherly person despite his gender or Virginia, one of the biggest mother hens, when she played her own part in raising the state the moment he joined the union.

"I know, Hoko. I know." though it didn't stop him from appreciating the concern the state was showing him, even if he thought he didn't deserve it after taking his mother away from him.

Ethan nodded his head, offering one last soft smile before turning around and leaving him alone in his room.

Nicholas turned his head towards the spirit eagle he inherited from his brother, Independence, who stook by his side through thick and thin. "Do you think I can handle today's meeting, Independence?"

He was only answered with a quiet caw from the transparent eagle.

"I didn't think so either..."

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Wappo: Ryan Jones, Delaware. Spirit Animal: Grey fox, Dover.
Hokolesqua: Ethan Jones, Illinois. Spirit Animal: white-tailed deer, Peoria.
Antinanco: Nicholas Farley Jones. Spirit Animal: inherited, bald eagle, Independence.

Chapter Two: The Disastrous World Meeting.


1. )Now about their spirit animals, they are like partners to the states that they are paired with. For Nicholas, it is different since he inherited his from Alfred. Why he didn't get his own will be brought up in a future chapter, but for now I'm interested in what theories you think up about it.

2. ) For those who know, there will be mentions of Germerica. Whether if I will bump that up to more than just mentions will be decided in the future. I have an idea on how to go about this, but whether or not if I should is still up in the air. There won't be a romantic relationship between Germany and Nicholas, at the most it will be like Germany sees the little brother of his deceased lover that he needs to protect, aka a brotherly love.

3. )If you think I should bring back Alfred partially, please leave a review on why or why not Alfred should return. I will be counting all the votes. Once I hit a certain point in the story, the vote will end and I will chose by the amount of votes if Alfred should return to his brother and children or should stay resting in peace.

4. )If you had made an OC that is in use in the Illusions I Weave, you can PM me to decide which city you want your state's spirit animal to be named after.