AN: There needs to be a fic about Mesopotamia! And I used the search button, and I didn't find any APH fics about Mesopotamia, so I guess this is it. :D
Disclaimer: Although it would be incredibly awesome, I don't own Hetalia.
He was the world's first civilization, and at first he was all alone. Well, not really, he had his people and animals to keep him company and build him ziggurats and tell him about Gilgamesh and find ways to create rain to keep his land fertile. But he was alone in terms of that he was the only nation for some time.
He didn't wonder at first. At first he knew that there was him, there was his land, there were the beings that lived there, and there were the gods. He saw the sky where Anu lived and the sea where Tiamat lived, but he didn't wonder too much about it at first. He thought that that was all there was, but only at first. He would later realize. He would later know it.
And in time, Babylonia came with her "boss" Hammurabi and their laws, and Assyria came with his strict way, and then Ancient Egypt, and Ancient Greece, and he realized that there would be a continuous birth of his type. They were not people, but they looked like their people, they could easily pass for one of them. They lived much longer, and their bodies were in pain if their lands were damaged, and if they were conquered sometimes they went to live with another one of them, or sometimes they even died.
Eventually that was what happened to Babylonia and Assyria and Ancient Egypt and Ancient Greece and even him. But there was never anything that was explicitly said about what happened to his type after they died, not like how the people with their gods were sent to afterlives. One day, after his death, after floating around his Fertile Crescent lands, he saw a face that looked somewhat familiar. The face reminded him of Assyria's, and of his, and of Sumer's and of Akkadian Empire's. My name is Iraq, he said.
And somehow, Mesopotamia found himself saying I know, and he realized that this Iraq's lands were what used to be his and Assyria's and Sumer's and Babylonia's and Akkadian Empire's, and he realized that somehow he had known all along. They had been reborn.
He saw it with the land that had been his, parts of it turning into Syria and Turkey and Iran. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. These younger ones, (they were beginning to call themselves "nations") they had some of him inside them.
The people called it "family", or "genetics", but somehow he kept calling it fate. And somehow, maybe because he was the first of them, he seemed to be comfortable with it. None of the "nations's" people, or any of the "nations" themselves seemed to be one hundred percent okay with the idea that something had their future planned out, or at least reality in their minds.
Maybe because he was the first he had a strange attitude about the whole thing. Somehow, he was still around. And he was everywhere, but he was still essentially nowhere. Maybe this was what happened to all the others, he thought, but then he realized that was only part of what happened.
He saw his Fertile Crescent descendents, if that was the right word (it wasn't) asking what was going to happen. The humans and "nations" were saying it was 2010, they were saying there was war and unrest, they were like modern versions of him.
They all were. Or maybe he was an ancient ghost version of every single one of them, Africa and Asia and the Americas and Europe and Oceania and Antarctica. Or maybe they were all just a cycle, living and dying and becoming ghosts that were reborn, over and over again only for the same thing to happen for eternity.
Fate was a strange thing, he thought. He thought he'd be there, wherever there was, forever. He wondered what fate's face looked like, if he could find it somewhere on the globe, or if it would have to find him, halfway between the afterlife and the Fertile Crescent. Somehow, he knew the answer.