Forgotten

The rain was streaking down Britain's face, so America couldn't tell if he was crying. He looked like he was. But he didn't care... did he? No. He didn't. America was asking for his independence, he couldn't back down now! Not become soft, like... like... Britain. Gritting his teeth, he stared Britain down defiantly.

"Are you going to answer?" He asked, almost surprised at his growl of a voice, but keeping his poker face.

Britain didn't seem to be listening, "Hm? Oh, sorry, America, what were you saying?"

"You know what I was saying, old man!"

Britain's eyes widened, and he looked hurt. It took all America's strength not to give in and say he was sorry. He needed this.

"I said. I want my FREEDOM!" He yelled, the rain pouring all around him.

"What? But... America, why? You are free."

America shook his head, "Not of you."

Again, that hurt look.

America glared at him, "Well?"

Britain looked up slowly, blue meeting green, and America saw that Britain couldn't take this.

Before he knew it, Britain had his gun locked with America's.

"Why! Damn, god, WHY?" Britain yelled, a fierce look in his face.

The soldiers around America took aim. America didn't say a word.

His almost father figure fell into the mud, the tear streaks clearly visable, even amongst the rain.

"What happened to you?" His voice broke, "You used to be the strongest country I knew. You were great. Now what are you?" He added in a hoarse whisper.

Looking down at Britain, he remembered the day he'd snapped the legs backwards on his wooden soldier, whilst trying to get him to kneel down before him. He had run to Britain, saying, "Britty, Britty!"

Britain, who had been sitting at a table next to the window, placed his cup onto his plate, down onto the table, and looked, smiling, down at America.

"How can I help, America?"

America held up the soldier.

Britain chuckled.

America sighed, he hadn't heard that laugh for donkey's years.

"What did you do this time, America?"

"He wouldn't kneel down."

Britain smiled, and held out his hand, taking the soldier in the other.

Grinning sheepishly, America took Britain's hand and followed him to his workshop. Britain had sat him down and showed him how he repaired them.

Looking around at all the soldiers, he wondered if he really did want his independence. Of course he did... Right? Well, he wouldn't of come here in the first palce if he didn't...

His train of thoughts was broken by a nod from Britain.

"What?" America asked.

"You can have it. Independence... if that's what you want." Britain whispered.

~A few centurys later~

America looked up at the sky in his garden. He hadn't seen Britain in ages.

Then he heard a knock on his door. Sighing irritably, he stood up and walkde inside. The knock came agan, a little louder.

"All right, all right, I'm coming!"

He heard a familiar chuckle from the other side of the door.

Opening it, he got a surprise.

Britain was stood there, smiling.

"B-Britain? What? Is that you?" He stammered.

Britain nodded, "Long time no see, eh?"

America's eyes widened and he just nodded, speechless.

Britain's thick eyebrows narrowed.

"Well, are you going to let me in? It's bloody freezing out here."

Chuckling to himself, he opened the door to let the Brit in.

Stepping in and taking his coat off, Britain heard America's chuckle, "What're you laughing at?"

"Hm? Oh nothing, nothing..." He lowered his voice, "Just thought you had forgotten me."

Britain smiled again, it seemed to light the room, "Forget you, America? Why, that's bloody impossible!"

"I'm being serious!" And that was it. America couldn;t hold himself back. He flung himself into a very confused and surprised Britain's arms.

"I missed you... And I thought you wouldn't remember me." He whispered.

Britain awkwardly, hugged him back, and America smiled. Suddenly, the hug became an embrace, and Britain put a hand on America's cheek, the other on his back.

America noticed that Britain was a light pink, and felt himself heating up.

"I'll never forget you, America..."

America was mute.

"I love you."

Where had that come from?

Britain clamped a hand over his mouth and turned away, blushing furiously.

America smirked, and walked around to face him.

Britain turned away again.

America followed.

Britain turned.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Until America grabbed Britain's arms and kissed him.

Britain blushed heavily, but kissed back.

When they broke apart, Britain was the first to speak.

"W-What are you doing, you bloody git?" But there was no anger.

"Um... Kissing the person I love?"

Britain blushed even more.

"Dude! I didn't realise it was possible to go that shade of red." America said cheekily.

"D-Don't laugh..."

America looked at Britain as if he was crazy.

"I'm not going to," He said, his voice softening, "I wouldn't laugh at you."

"But you have done. On many occasions."

"That was then. I wasn't sure of my feelings. Now I am." America pecked Britain on the cheek, "I love you." He grinned.

Britain smiled, "I love you too, America. You're impossible to forget."

America smiled warmly. He didn't forget.