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Aph: Heaven's Hero Pt. 1

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Part 1

I couldn't believe it. I still can't really. You told me that you would always be there when I needed help. Always. And you always were. Through the good times and the bad, the relaxed and stressed; your smile made everything so much better. Your love had made me complete.

But… now… the tears are flowing down my cheeks as I stand in this grassy field. Why? I can barely keep myself from falling to my knees. Why? Why did you say everything was going to okay? You said you would come back to me. You promised.

A hand reaches out and grabs my shoulder.

"England…?" the voice starts, worried. I turn to look at their face and I see your brother, Canada. I chuckle a bit to myself sadly. I usually never remember who Canada is. But today, I do. Everyone does. For once, they are calling him by his name, not yours. Which is a good thing but a bad thing because now everyone is forced to accept the fact that you are lying in a black coffin that is open for us all to see.

"Are you okay, England?" he asks. I close my eyes.

"I will be eventually." I tell him while I wipe my eyes. I can see the Canadian bite his lip in the corner of my eye.

"If you need to talk, I'm here." Canada offers. My eyes focus on the patches of grass around your casket.

"Thank you, but you do not need to worry about me." His hand leaves me as he walks away, probably to check up on Seychelles and that bloody Frenchman. It's fine. I want to be alone in my little space. I try to keep my eyes from you, but I can't. You just look so peaceful…so pale and cold… So… alone.

"Is everyone here? Is everyone ready?" The priest asks nervously. I glance at him, the young Italian nation looking very elegant while being dressed in his white robes. Germany isn't too far off, his blue eyes locked on Italy's small figure as he speaks. "Okay…well, ciao everyone." His voice is shaking. It's obvious that he's trying to resist breaking down into tears. The git… I told him he didn't have to do this if he didn't want to. But, Italy had insisted on it. He wanted to be the one to lead your funeral. The auburn haired nation claimed that it was the least he could do. The bloody git. I don't want to see him cry.

He continues on after the nations (including myself) sit down in the lawn chairs in front of you. Canada is on my right while Sealand is on my left. Sealand is staring at his feet. I cannot see his face.

"We are here to… to…" Italy exhales while clutching his Bible in his small hands as he stands at the wood podium. "We are here to honor the life of Alfred Jones, the nation of The United States of America." We are all silent as we listen. There are only nations and your higher officers here so we can call each other by our country names. We are all trying to avoid using our human names because it reminds us of the painful fact that we are not as immortal as we had all once thought.  You are our new proof of that.

"America was a strong and determined nation. He always strived to do what was just and right, even if it meant his own world would crumble." Sealand has begun shaking. I slowly wrap my arm around him and pull him closer to me. The boy clings to my side and lets the waterworks flow. I let him. I don't mind if my jacket gets wet.

Italy builds up strength again to speak. "We lost him when he was sent over to help the people of Afghanistan. America and his squad were searching for active terrorist groups. During his time there, he was staying in the capital when a militant group attacked the camp there. America…" The Italian priest stops for a moment so he can regulate his breathing. All of us feel the tension in the room building. I try my best to not glance back at the nation of Afghanistan, who is trying his hardest not to draw too much attention to himself. I know it's not really his fault. He was the one who rushed you to the hospital after the attack.

The delay is taking a bit longer than expected. Germany walks up to the Italian and places his hand on his back in a comforting way. Italy smiles at his companion before turning back to us with a newfound sense of determination and calmness.

"He did everything in his power to protect the townspeople and his men. Out of his squad of fifty soldiers, there was only one life was lost. And that was his own. America was able to save those around him with his amazing instincts and leadership skills. But, because of the risks he took, he was gunned down and his body didn't survive the surgery." I swallow hard. To think a nation could die… like that no less. Die, like a human. The thought is almost repulsive to us.

Hearing your story again hits me harder than I expected. I refuse to allow myself to break down again. I have to stay strong for the boy who seems to be clinging to me for dear life. I must stay strong for Sealand.                                               

"America was a great nation. We all knew him to be happy, hyper, and always optimistic, no matter what was going on. We are here to honor his long life. Please, would you all stand and bow your heads." We all do so. It takes Sealand a few moments to get up, but he eventually does. He's still connected to my jacket. Canada places his hand on my back lightly as Italy begins the prayer.  

"Dear Heavenly Father, please watch over Alfred; America as he makes his way to Heaven. May he be happy in his new home in your holy kingdom. And please bless the people that he's left behind. Let them be able to continue on with their lives. Bless all of us Father… In your beloved name we pray…"

"Amen." We all say in unison. Italy smiles a tiny bit as he begins to read a verse from the Bible. I, on the other hand, let my thoughts take me.

You promised me. You said you would be back home before I knew it. What… what lies! You said there was no way you could die! You're the hero! So why!? WHY!? My grip on Sealand tightens, who is still weeping quietly.

"Let us give our final goodbyes. Please, form and orderly line if you wish to place flowers or give your condolences. I will now temporarily hand things over to Prussia." Prussia, who has somehow appeared next to Germany, steps up to the podium. What could that crazy, ex-nation possibly have to say?

The Prussian rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"Well, I just wanted to tell everyone that lunch will be held back at the reception hall. So, when you're done here, you can head there… Yeah… that's all." He finishes. I didn't plan to go to lunch. I really don't want to be around others right now.

As Prussia steps away from the podium, his arms find their way to a certain shaky Romanian female. She snuggles into his embrace, desperately fighting tears. I turn my green orbs away. I am fighting my own battle. I do not wish to watch someone else do the same, and lose.

"En-England?" Sealand asks as he pulls away so I can finally see his glistening blue eyes. Blue… like yours.

"Yes?" I reply, trying to smile at least a little bit. His grip on my arm tightens as his orbs dart to the other countries.

"Can we get in line now?" he wonders. I nod and we go to stand in line behind Lithuania and Latvia. The young nation isn't holding up too well either. He's crying a lot more than usual. Sealand hugs him and they cry together. Lithuania glances at me, but then quickly looks away.

Time seems to be moving so slow… All I can think about is the last time that I saw you…

{Flashback}

I stormed into America's office. He was sitting at his desk eating his usual dose of cheeseburgers. He blinked a few times as he stared at my exhausted figure.

"Iggy? Why are you here?" The blonde asked me before sipping some of his Coke a' Cola. My eyes narrowed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" That bloody git's head tilted a bit in confusion.

"Hm? What are you talking about?" I looked down at the ground to hide my eyes.

"Why…" My voice shook a bit. "Why didn't you tell me they were sending you away tomorrow!?" I wasn't able to see his face, but I did hear his breath catch. As I stood there, I kept telling myself not to cry. I didn't want to cry.
The next thing I knew, America's arms were around me, pulling me tightly against his chest.

"I'm sorry, England. I was going to tell you tonight." He replied. I still felt a bit hurt by the whole thing so I tried to push him away.

"Y-You GIT! You've known for about a week now! I had to have your brother Mexico tell me!" The American didn't let me go. Instead, he pulled me closer and rested his forehead against my head.

"Forgive me… I didn't want to see you like this all week. Please forgive me." He whispered lightly in my ear. The tears could no longer be held back, I cried into his chest, not caring that I was getting his shirt and beloved bomber jacket wet. America sighed and held me until I was done. He looked deep into my eyes with a smile. "Do you forgive me?" The American's words were so… sincerely sorry. But, I wasn't about to give in. I folded my arms and looked away.

"No, you bloody git. I'm still mad at you." I told him. I swore I heard him chuckle. Before I could retaliate, America pressed his lips to mine. It wasn't rough or filled with lust… No, it was soft and passionate, his lips moving slowly with mine. When he pulled away, a smirk was present on the git's face.

"Do you forgive me now?" There was a light hint of playfulness in his voice that made me smile a bit before kissing him again.

"I guess so…" I muttered against his lips. The kiss got more passionate and intense. And before I knew it, I was lying in bed next to my lover, sore and exhausted but content as could be. He was snoring lightly as he slept. The git. He always used to fall asleep after we would finish up. Usually I would drift off rather quickly… but not that night. My mind was panicking.

He was leaving me. My America was going far away for six months. I didn't want to think about it. I mean, I was used to being lonely. After the American Revolution, I was left all alone. I wouldn't let anyone in. I didn't want to get hurt again. But… as time went on, America started inching his way back in. And then, that day when he kissed me… and told me he loved me. My heart had been fixed. I was no longer alone.

I guess I had been spoiled by my boyfriend. He was always there. So the thought of being without him for an extended period of time didn't sit well with me. I snuggled into his arms and I rested my head on his bare, muscular chest.

"I worry about you Alfred…" I noted to myself. I had been told that Afghanistan wasn't too dangerous… except for the terrorist groups. But, I was still paranoid.

"Don't worry, Arthur. I'll come back to you soon. I'll write. Everything will be okay." America whispered lightly, his ocean blue eyes opening slightly. A blush appeared on my cheeks. I hadn't expected to be heard. The American tugged my body closer (if that was even possible) and placed a kiss on my forehead. For some reason, my worries just seemed to float away. I desperately wanted to believe his words… So I did.

I woke up the next morning cold and alone. America had already left.


{Flashback End}

Part of me hates believing your words that day. Part of me wishes I had begged you to stay. And another part of me wants to join you. But the rest of me knows better.

I look ahead and see that Lithuania and Latvia are done saying goodbye, which means it's Sealand's turn, then mine. They walk over to their other fellow Baltic nation and slowly walk away. Italy is standing next to your casket with sorrowful yet strong eyes. He's handing out the flowers that we all ordered. He hands a daisy to Sealand before the young nation walks up to stand before you. His small form is shaking while his eyes are trained on the ground.

"Am-America… Forgive me for all the times I've insulted you and would take your kindness for granted. Please forgive me…" he cries, his grip on the poor flower growing tighter with each growing second. I place my hand on his shoulder as he leans forward to add his daisy to the pile that is around your body. Sealand quickly hugs me before rushing over to hug his 'Momma' Finland and 'Papa' Sweden. The Swedish man nods to me, as if telling me I can have my moment with you in peace. I nod back before turning my attention to you. I chuckle lightly to myself.

Even though you are no longer living, you are still so very handsome. Dressed in your best black tux, which you have only worn once prior, you lay among items that have always meant so much to you. Your favorite bomber jacket is sitting folded in the top corner with the '50' facing up. Reminds me of the many times you had placed it on my shoulders whenever I ever gave the slightest hint of being cold.

The American flag rests on the closed bottom half of the coffin, waiting to be properly folded. I once hated that flag and all it stood. It represented your struggle to break away from me. It represented your success in leaving me for independence. But now, I respect it and your reasons for wanting freedom.

The flowers that surround you are of so many different varieties and colors. Most are national colors but not all. It's strange… I do not see any roses. I figured France would put at least one in, but I guess I was wrong.

Somewhere under the flowers is a video game that your… alien/pet thing Tony left for you. I don't know where he is… probably comforting that whale of yours.

I stare at your peaceful face. Why did you have to go? I need you, America. I need you.

Italy taps on my shoulder, tearing me from my thoughts. I turn to him and see the last flower he has, which he is holding out to me. A freshly bloomed white rose. It is extremely beautiful. The Italian's amber orbs lock with my emerald tinted ones.

"You didn't order any flowers… So I ordered this one for you." The younger male explains as he gives it to me. Once I take it, Italy steps away over to the armed military unit. I look back to you and then to the rose in my hand. The white color makes it seem clean and fresh… pure even. Roses; We both loved roses. Always have. You would say that they were strong and elegant.

I squeeze it in my hand, not caring that a thorn is digging into my thumb. The pain just makes the situation feel more real.

"You're the hero right? Then why did you go? The world still needs you to save it America. I need you to save me! Why did you leave me!?" I think aloud, still holding back tears. As I stand there, a light breeze passes by and a realization hits me. I blink a few times as my eyes widen then close and the tears finally begin to fall while a small, warm smile appears on my features.

"I guess… Heaven needed a hero, didn't they? That's why they summoned you. They needed you more…Alfred." I whisper. That seems to be the only explanation that comes to me. My smile doesn't fade as I step forward and place the white rose between your clasped hands. I hold onto them for a bit as I meet your closed eyes.

"Now… make sure you don't fail them…" I advise, stepping back and biting my lip, not being able to control the now flooding teardrops.

Italy nods to the soldiers and they close your coffin and begin to fold the flag. Once done, the leader hands it to me and salutes. I grasp it firmly. He then calls his unit to prepare to shot. The twenty-one gun salute goes off. I cry there with the flag in my arms.

So… this is goodbye… forever, my love.
Part 2: [link]
Part 3: [link]

EDIT: Okay, there will actually b three parts. Mostly because it feels a bit too long. I'll put the next part up soon! Forgive me!

Okay, it is HARD writin in present tense. It is. So forgive me if i failed ^.^'

This story is based around a song called "Heaven was needing a hero" by Jo Dee Messina. It's a really good song. This story made me cry a lot... but it helped me thro a lot.... Enjoy everyone. Please comment!
© 2011 - 2024 ShadowxAlly18
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Rory-Kirkland's avatar
*bawling my eyes out like a baby*