Chapter 9

My Family

France's POV

It was early in the morning when it happened. I was asleep in Arthur's room and in mind it sounded like fireworks. I saw myself with him under the stars on Bastille Day, the red white and blue fireworks going off over our heads, it was so nice. Until before I knew it he was gone, I looked around and I couldn't find him. I called out his name but he wouldn't answer. My heart was beating like a drum in my chest. I needed to find him, I needed to find him, but I couldn't. I continued to search but there was nothing, no one. Finally everything seemed to go back, and there, echoing through my mind was his voice, rasped and bloody as his vocal cords slammed together as he let out the most terrifying and pain filled scream I have ever heard. Then there in the silence I heard it echo followed by the sound that had finally registered enough in my mind to wake it up.

The sound of a heart monitor flat-lining…

My eyes flew open and I rushed to England's side.

"Angleterre, Angleterre, wake up, please you must!" I shouted at his pale limp body. I wouldn't let him leave me. Not him too, not after America, he had to stay! We had to catch these bastards!

The doctors came in and began working at him, ripping open his pajamas, which I had changed him into, so they could get at his chest with the AED. I watched holding England's hand desperately. He had to make it through. He had to, I would not let the soviets take another one of my dear friends, this was not the end, no, he had to make it through! He has always been much stronger than I ever made him out to be, I knew he could do it, I knew he could, he had to, for Alfred's sake.

"England," I whispered, tears falling down my face. He always insisted I speak English around him, mostly so he could understand me, yet his reasoning was more for his ego, something about his language being far superior, but at the moment I didn't care. I would do anything to keep here. I could speak fucking Ethiopian if he wanted me to, just so he would survive. "England, please," I said. "You can't leave, we are so close, we need you, we need you to take these bastards down! I need you, Matthew needs you…and Alfred needs you, even if he is no longer here with us I know this is what he would want, he would want you to survive, just please," I said.

Nothing, the doctors continued to work as they pushed me away getting ready to shock him. I stepped back, but my eyes never left him.

"You mark my words England," I shouted at him as they continued to work.

Clear

"I will find the bastards that did this to you, whether or not you survive this or not, and I will make them pay!"

Clear

"Do you hear me, I will kill them, and I don't care if I die in the process! I will do it! I will stop them before they hurt anyone else like they have hurt you and Alfred, Big Brother will handle this!"

Clear

I fell forward after they administer the last shock. I desperately grabbed his hand, tears falling from my eyes and crashing on to his hand.

"England," I whispered.

Australia's POV

"I found another one!" I shouted to the bomb team as they continued to search through the cities, men rushed over and collected their tools as they began to dismantle it.

I heard the report as she spoke to the camera from a safe distance away.

"Early this morning it was reported that many bombs when off in some of the most populated cities here in England. The identity of the bomber is still unknown as the bomb squads continue to try and dig up any possible information on the attacks. The questions we are waiting to figure out are…. Who did this? Why did they do this, and does this have any sort of relation to the newly formed Soviet Union and their recent attacks and takeover of the United States of America? This Diane Stanley- Jones reporting to you live from the scene, back to you Tom," she said as she finished her report. I went back to doing my job, searching for anything that could seem like a bomb or some sort of explosive.

It was no secret who lead this terrorist attack that just so happened to occur shortly after the bombing. While Diane Stanley-Jones and the rest of the human population didn't know it for sure yet, there was no doubt in my mind that the Soviet Union did this. Those damn criminals weren't going to stop until we all buckled and joined them. It fucking pissed me off, because I knew in a way it was working. With America dead it spread a sense of both fear and pride. It seemed only a matter of time till countries like North Korea joined their side.

No one really seemed to understand my whole relationship with England and why I was here helping him. After my independence everyone though that I just went on about my life and continued to hate England, but that wasn't exactly true…. He was like a father to me. He raised me since I was a child and in a way I would always love him, even it was love which was paired with hate, in our whole love-hate relationship that we had going. It is like that with a lot of his other colonies. America had to be the best example of that, they had a long emotional battle between the two of them, and yes they didn't talk for a while after but when it came to it, they recovered and America would help England out whenever he saw that he needed it, not just because he thought of himself as a hero, but because he was family. That is what family does, they help each other. I have always thought of America as a brother, it didn't matter where we were located on a map, we were raised together, we grew up together, we had the same father, that's all that matter when it came to family. He didn't care about our difference, hell he called India his sister all the time and they looked nothing alike! America was just like that he didn't care about appearance he wanted to be friends with everyone, he accepted his family for who they were rather than what they looked like and where they came from. That was the other reason I was here out in the field. My family, it was being threatened and I did not like it. I wasn't able to help save my brother so here I was trying to save the man who raised the both of us and any other friends or siblings these bastards might try and attack.

"I've got a few fragments over here," I shouted gazing at the metal. The bomb team rushed over. I took a metal piece of the bomb into my hand and gazed at it. It was charred, distorted, melted and covered in gun powder, yet even through all of that it still managed to shine and reflect light. I stopped what I was doing and looked up at the sky.

Blue, just like brother's eyes…

I looked back down at the metal.

"I'm going to protect him bro, just because I know that is what you would want me to do," I said with a small smile. "I won't let you down," I said as I turned the metal piece over.

Maybe it was just the light playing tricks or my mind going crazy from all the freaking stress, but as I turned the metal piece, the gun powder coming off on my fingers…I swore…that I saw him, standing there behind me with a huge smile on his face, like he always seemed to be like when he was alive.

Of course, I turned around, because who wouldn't in that situation but of course behind me I saw nothing, just the ruins of buildings and people in SWAT and bomb protective outfits walking around examining the scene. Of course that is all I would see…if it was only hope and love that could bring him back he would have been back already with how many friends he had and how everyone just seemed to love the guy. How could you not get along with America? The guy was just so damn loveable!

I sighed as I got up and shook my head trying to work.

Back to work, I guess.

Ahhhhhh I really have no ideas of what to do now. I'll come up with something…. Hopefully I will update soon…

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