Now, before anyone starts crying, I want you all to know… I had the happiest ending possible.
Yes, I did get swallowed up by merciless flames, flames that I myself, had caused, but I had gotten to see Francis, the real Francis, one last time.

I was able to tell him how I felt about him, and my feelings were returned.

Maybe, I died… but I died in the arms of the one I loved more than anything, or anyone else in the world.
The one who was there for me my entire childhood, not just my childhood, he'd been there for me my whole life.

Francis and I had been to hell and back again together, and he still always managed to stay with me.

Even when it wasn't his best option.

Though, it was hard for me to admit to, my pride, usually blocking my way, I really did love him.
It might sound like one of America's horrible romantic movies, but I think I might have always loved him.

And I always would love him.

All right… I know you all must be wondering, how, if I died… how in the bloody hell am I saying all this?

Fine, the jigs up, I suppose.

It's a valid thing to wonder, so if I really have to be truthful about it… I never died.

. . . . .

I clung to Francis, as the heat of the flames got closer and closer to us.

We exchanged our parting words, and I shut my eyes tightly, clinging to him, as I felt the flames close in on us.

I didn't want to think about it.

I didn't want to think about the flames that were inevitably going to burn us to death.

I thought back to when we were children, how I'd run away from my older brothers, and though I told myself over and over again, that I wasn't going to run to Francis for comfort again…

I always somehow found myself with him anyway.

We'd spend hours out in the forest together, and he'd always complain that I was going too fast, or how I was going to hurt myself, but I never listened to him.

Oddly enough, it was always him, who'd end up twisting his ankle, or tripping, because he wasn't familiar with the forest like I was.

The forest was more my home than anything.

I remember how he'd always tell me his fairytales, like Cinderella, and Little Red Riding Hood, just pretty little happy stories, and I always retorted with something that I was purposely trying to frighten him with.

I wished more than anything, though, it was hard, and I was forced to grow up quickly, that he and I could be there again, in that time where hardly anything seemed to matter.

I realized, I'd been thinking so hard about it, trying to ignore the heat of the flames, that I hadn't noticed, that the flames weren't even there at all.

I opened my eyes, gasping when I realized, that I was back in the room, the room where I'd cast the spell in the first place, and Francis wasn't there.

What the hell was this?
My mind instantly tried to tell me, that maybe I'd just managed to just dream the whole thing up?
Maybe none of it ever happened.

Maybe I'd never cast the spell in the first place?

No, that wasn't it…
maybe I'd been thinking so hard, trying to forget about my inevitable death, that I'd mentally tried to bring myself back?

The third option in my head, the one that seemed too good to be true…

Was that, it had worked.

Francis had regained his memories, which was the main goal in the first place, and once that was achieved, we were sent back.

It was so last minute, and I had been sure we were going to die back there!
But… could it be possible?!

That once the main goal of the spell was achieved it had sent us back?

This was where I had been before it all happened, so it had sent us back to where we were…?

Wait, America had been with me… trying to stop me the day I cast it.

So, did that mean…

"Britain, dude!"

Yup, that was his voice, all right…

"Alfred…?" I demanded, my voice soft, quiet…

"Yeah, I—"

Without warning, I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him, which was very out of character for me.

He was shocked for a moment, but he ended up wrapping a single arm around me, in reply to my outburst.

"Whoa, you're not usually this affectionate… did something happen?" He asked, sounding more curious than he did concerned.

…He was acting as if he was oblivious to the whole thing.

"I came here to tell you something, but… I kinda forgot what it was I wanted to say." He laughed, nervously, obviously feeling awkward owning up to that.

"Weird, I kinda feel like it was important, too."

I looked at the clock.
It was around the same time it was, that same day, when I had cast the spell.

Had it all just really… reset?

"Y-you don't remember…?" I asked, timidly.

"Dude, I can't remember what I had for breakfast this morning, how do you expect me to remember some vague thing, that I was obviously supposed to remember?" I asked.

He really didn't remember, did he?

A thought crossed my mind.

Kiku and Yao… were they okay? Were they transported back after the spell ended?

I had that sick image engraved in my head, of Kiku pinned to the ground with his older brother, trying to free him, Yao, in tears… flames surrounding them.

"Alfred, have you… talked to Kiku as of lately?" I asked, knowing that the two of them were pretty okay friends.

"Uh… yeah, like, just the other day, why?" He retorted.

"I'm seriously starting to worry about you, why are you asking so many weird questions?"

I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement, when I finally started to register, that maybe… maybe that horrible spell had worked.

Maybe I'd fixed everything!

I opened the door, and took off running down the hall of my house, without a word to Alfred.

"Hey—Arthur, where the hell are you going? You're seriously freaking me out!"

"Shut up, you bloody twat!" I shouted back at him, though, there was a painfully obvious smile on my face when I said it, and it was easy to know I was smiling through my voice.

Ignoring Alfred, I picked up my phone.

This was the moment of truth that I almost didn't want to face.

I slowly dialed Francis' number.

It rang.


One last time.

It rang three times before someone picked up the phone.

"Bonjour?" I heard the voice on the other line answer.

"Francis!" I exclaimed, relieved, almost not believing it when I heard him answer.

"Oh, Angleterre…" He started.

"I should 'ave guessed it vould be you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Frog?" I demanded.

"Don't pull zhat with me! You only call when you eithzer vant somezhing from moi, or I've done somezhing wrong, so which is it?" He asked, though, I could hear his light-hearted voice he always used with me, as if to say, he didn't mind it when I yelled at him.

"O-oh… it's neither…" I answered, slowly.

"Oui? Is zhat so?" He asked.

"Is zhere a cause for concern? Oh, non! Angleterre is calling moi for no reason, 'e must be plotting somzhing, vhatever shall I do?"

"Don't mock me! You stupid bloody frog! I have a reason to call you…" I blurted.

"'Mm? And vhats zhat?" He asked.

"I just…"

There was a pause.

"Now I'm actually starting to vorry about you, you know? Is somezhing wrong?" He asked.

"Oh, n-no! Nothing at all… everything is fine…" I informed.

"If you say so, mon amour, zhough you're not acting like it's "nothzhing at all"…"

"No, believe me, everything is perfectly fi—did you just call me "my love"?! I'll bloody murder you!" I cut myself off, mid-sentence when it registered that he'd called me "mon amour".

"Ohonhonhon~ go ahead, zhen, try and murder moi through zhe phone." He mocked.

"Eithzer vay, you just admitted you understand French, seeing 'ow you noticed zhat I called you zhat."

My face turned red.

"Nonsense! I do not understand the language of frogs!" I retorted.

"Oh, but you do~"

"I do not, you wanker!"

And so continued a normal conversation between the two of us.
As it turned out, no one, except me… remembered that the spell had ever happened in the first place.

Somehow that seemed slightly familiar.

But no matter how you looked at it, I had won.
I'd done what I'd began to think was impossible.

Even if I was the only one with memories of the crisis, I was okay with that.

Some memories were better left broken.

A/N: Oh my gosh, guys. Thats the end. ;w; I'll admit, I was getting a bit tired of writing this story, just because I've been writing it for so long, and I have so many other ideas I want to be putting into action, but now that the last chapter is finally done... I feel nostalgic, and a bit sad about it.
This was my /longest/ running Hetalia fanfiction ever, and I couldn't have written it without you guys' support, and therefore, I'm going to do the cheesy thing, that a lot of writers do, and do personal "thank you"

First, I have to thank my best friend in real life, Sage, aka Celina Wood, who has /always/ supported me in my writing, assuring me that it's good, even if I didn't want to believe it was, and not only that, she reads /all/ my stuff, even if shes not reading this at the moment because shes sorta grounded. ^^; I love you, and you know that, because I say that all the time! Hehe~

I also need to thank TwoSidesOfACrazyCoin, who always gives me /very/ enthusiastic reviews that usually end with the words "thank you!" I want to formally return the favor and say, no, thank /you./

Also, MaskedRomeo, who I can always count on to give good, detailed reviews. Your reviews helped me out a /lot/ because you not only said what you liked about it, but you critiqued my work, and in the end made me an all around better writer. Thank you so much. And, as a side note, for the longest time, I thought your user name was MaskedROMANO.
Because I'm obviously not good at paying attention! x'D

And now I want to formally thank EVERYONE who read and supported this story, I'm sorry that I couldn't name all of you one by one, but... that would take more time than I'm willing to put into this authors note.
Again, thank you SO much for tagging along for the ride. You're all /amazing./ I hope to see some of you returning to see my future work, but until that happens, this is good-bye.
Thank you all so much, this was All Those Broken Memories.