I have no idea how this came to being. It just popped into my head one day, I thought 'What would happen if America decided it wanted an Empire, like England and many other countries had'
And this is the results of that thought. Please forgive any mistakes or ridiculousness, I tried my best :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia :)
I know that Ontario is a province not a city but I am not familiar with Canada so I put that instead of a specific city so I wouldn't get anything spectacularly wrong ^^'
The sky was a dark, stormy grey, threatening rain. The field was torn up, blown apart by explosives from both sides.
A figure was kneeling in the mud, his hands bound and his eyes blindfolded by the Union Flag he had carried proudly into battle. Blood poured from a wound in the side of his head, soaking the flag and his breathing was heavy with exhaustion and fear.
He turned his blind gaze to the sound.
Someone crouched beside him. He could feel their breath on his cheek.
"Don't take it personally, Arthur" said the horribly familiar voice, a voice that was once a comfort.
He felt the presence of his attacker back off. He had risen to his feet. Arthur turned his head in frustration, trying to catch even a last glimpse of him.
He heard the click of a gun. He turned towards it slowly. He swallowed with difficulty.
"Please," He begged in a cracked voice. "Please, take care of my people"
Two single, sparkling tears appeared from under the Union Flag and raced each other down his cheeks.
"They're my people now" Said the voice, cold and hard.
"I-I will always, always love you" Arthur's voice trembled.
He shuddered as the bullet sliced through his flesh, piercing his heart. He drew one last shaking breath and collapsed to the ground, the blood of England, of Britain, pooling around him.
The gun was lowered.
Three days later, an announcement on worldwide television interrupted the programmes.
The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Island is now a part of the Great American Empire.
Matthew walked down the bright streets of Ontario, his home within his country. The sun was bright and warm, the grass a brilliant green colour and the trees waved gracefully in the slight breeze.
But the atmosphere couldn't have been more different.
Fear was predominant. People didn't stop on their way from home to work to shops to home. No one stopped for a friendly chat, no one stopped to admire the flowers. They hurried to and fro, not wanting to stay out in the open for longer than they had to.
Matthew felt their fear. It clawed up his throat and gripped his heart. He sighed and hugged himself as he approached his home.
Once he entered the house he threw the keys onto the table and stumbled into the living room. He sank onto the sofa and tucked his knees up in front of himself. He trembled as he hugged them tightly.
He was so alone.
England, Arthur had fallen.
France, Francis, Papa had fallen.
The entirety of Europe had fallen.
Only Asia, Australia and New Zealand were left.
But for how long?
His people's fear infected him, leaving him terrified of the idea that his brother could just march up and take his Canada for himself, like the greedy, selfish child he was.
The day slowly turned into night.
Matthew went about the usual, mundane things that needed to be done, always with this black cloud of terror over his pretty blond head.
He went up to bed, pulling on an old polo shirt and removing his glasses, and slipped under the covers. He lay awake for hours, until the darkness was complete.
He didn't want to sleep.
That was how he'd got Italy.
He eventually drifted into a light, cluttered sleep, full of nightmares of blood and flags.
He snapped awake when he sensed rather than heard another presence in his house. His eyes were wide and he turned his head slowly to the door. He strained his hearing, but there was no sound to hear.
He slowly slipped out of bed, replaced his glasses and crept to the tall cupboard. He opened the door silently and reached up to the top shelf.
When a hand grabbed his wrist and held it tight.
Matthew felt his whole body tremble. His violet eyes were wide and he slowly turned his gaze.
He felt the dread build up inside of him as he stared into those bright blue eyes.
"A-Alfred" He stammered, his throat closing up.
Alfred smiled at him. But it wasn't Alfred's smile. It was colder, more dangerous, than his brother ever was.
"Matthew" He spoke calmly.
Matthew tried to tug his wrist from Alfred's grip, but his brother had always been stronger.
"What do you want?" Matthew asked, trying to sound strong and hard.
Alfred laughed, a cruel mockery of his real laugh. He spun Matthew around and then grabbed him around the waist.
"I want an empire greater than England's ever was, greater than anyone's ever was!" He cried, holding Matthew flush against his body. Matthew grabbed his bomber jacket and shook him slightly.
"But why? Why did you have to destroy them all?! Arthur? Papa? Feli? Ludwig? WHY?!" He looked desperately into Alfred's eyes, hoping for an answer.
"They were in the way, this is conquering Mattie, sacrifices have to be made" Alfred said slowly.
Matthew shook his head. This wasn't right, this wasn't Alfred, and this wasn't America.
"So what's next? Ivan? Yao? Kiku? How far are you going to go with this?" He demanded softly.
"As far as I can, if that means taking Asia, then fine"
"Alfred stop, this isn't you! This isn't right! You won't mmphf!" He was cut off by Alfred pulling him into a tight hug, muffling his words in the bomber jacket.
He didn't know what to do. He could feel himself growing calmer in his brother's warm embrace. But he knew he couldn't trust him anymore. His eyes flickered shut instinctively.
So he missed the smile that crossed Alfred's lips as he leaned his head on Matthew's.
The knife made a horrible, slick noise as it entered Matthew's body. Straight through his heart.
Violet eyes widened in horror and pain.
Alfred pulled him closer.
Matthew felt a trail of blood seep from the corner of his mouth.
So his brother did betray him.
And now, Canada would be his.
The pain was freezing, he couldn't move but his whole body began to tremble. His breathing came in shuddering gasps. He leaned up and whispered, trembling, in Alfred's ear.
"Y-you won't be a-able to hold o-on f-f-f-forever, the w-worlds to big a-a place"
Then he pulled back, staring into Alfred's eyes, his own orbs full of betrayal and an aching sadness.
The violet's slowly died. The light extinguished from them forever. Matthew's body went limp and Alfred let it slump to the floor, blood pooling around it.
He pulled the Canadian flag from the wall and threw it over the dead body of his brother.
Three days later and the people were mourning the loss of their country. Tears fell down faces, old and young alike.
And the TV announced,
Canada is now a part of the Great American Empire
The last maple tree plantation was dying. The dazzling red leaves falling to the ground, leaving the withering trees bare. The country was dying.
But, right at the end of the plantation, one tree was still aglow with fiery red leaves. At its base, nestled in the soft, green grass, lay a child.
The child was sleeping, one thumb in his mouth. His wavy, blond hair framing his face.
A glowing, insubstantial hand stroked the child's hair back from his face. An angelic smile shone and violet eyes sparkled like stars. The figure straightened up.
"You are my future, stay strong, Mon Cheri" Said a soft voice, like a breeze it fluttered in the child's semi-consciousness.
The ghostly, angelic figure of Matthew turned, taking one last look down at the sleeping child over his shoulder. He smiled one last time and then faded into bright sunlight.
"Sleep well, Canada"
Thank you for reading :)
It would be brilliant if you could review, I need all the encouragment I can get ^^
Did anyone understand that last part? I got my family to read it and none of them understood it ^^'