Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Warnings: Slash, AU, swearing, sub-par writing, wonky plots, appallingly slow updates, and Hitler jokes.

I don't know what I'm doing.

Unbeta'd.

[Epilogue]

Alfred's parents hadn't been sure what to make of the whole ordeal. They'd been worried when Alfred hadn't called them after his interview and even more so when the bullet riddled wreck of his car had been found on the side of the road. The ensuing police investigation turned up nothing. Just when they'd begun to think their son might be lost to them forever, Alfred had shown up with a new car, a boyfriend, and a government job. His parents, in their infinite wisdom, had decided to just not ask questions. Alfred was grateful for this. He didn't think they had clearance to know the whole story. Hell, he didn't think he had clearance to know the whole story and he'd lived through it.

What Alfred had been expecting out of his rescue was something akin to what he would have received from, well, emergency rescuers. Kind words, assurances that everything would be all right, one of those blankets. They always gave blankets to people they rescued. Alfred was really up for snuggling under a blanket with Arthur as they were looked over by EMTs.

Lily had indeed gotten through to someone when she'd called for help, and the US government had been informed of the matter at hand. The US government had in turn freaked the fuck out and had thrown the Army at the problem. And the Air Force. And the National Guard. And called the local police. And, really, they'd summoned just about every resource they'd had at hand and told them to contain the problem. Unfortunately, they either hadn't known the details of the problem, or hadn't bothered to tell the Army, the Air force, the National Guard, the local police, and/or whoever else they'd called up at this ungodly hour of the morning. As a result, although the cavalry quickly arrived, it wasn't exactly the rescue Alfred had been expecting.

For one, they hadn't brought blankets.

They had brought guns, though. Lots of them.

A squad of black clad spec-ops types had burst through the door, guns drawn, and told them all to get on the ground. It was impressive, to be sure, but unfortunately redundant as everyone in the room was unconscious, injured, or just too tired to stand around anymore so they just sat, slouched, or lay where they were and let themselves be swarmed. They'd each been separated, surrounded by troops, and hauled up to the surface. To Alfred, it seemed like some bizarre inversion of ants hauling large bits of food back down into their nest.

It was as they were being shepherded back above ground that Alfred began to make his first attempts at explaining the situation. Starting with the fact that only one third of the people they were currently manhandling were actually part of the guilty party. The rest of the innocent majority hadn't said anything to back Alfred up, more accurately they hadn't said anything at all. In retrospect, Arthur, Lily, and Eduard had probably had enough experience with military operations and/or peeved individuals with guns to recognize that talking right then would have been a fruitless endeavor.

Alfred had kept babbling until they'd reached the surface, and then he'd been too preoccupied with gaping to say anything for a while.

To continue with the insect metaphor, what had been dark, empty field when Alfred had wandered through it hours ago now more closely resembled a kicked anthill. There'd been helicopters lighting up the area with searchlights. There'd been military vehicles everywhere, some of a particularly impressive and armored nature. There'd been droves of people scurrying around. Some had been shouting into radios. Some had been shouting at each other.

More worryingly, some of those people hadn't been doing any of that. They'd been stalking silently around the perimeter, weapons at the ready.

Alfred had gaped idiotically at all of this until he'd realized they were all being ushered in different directions. And then he'd started protesting. Loudly.

And then his escort had thrown him in the back of a van.

To be absolutely clear, Alfred hadn't spent the next five minutes sulking in the dark like a cranky two year old on timeout.

He hadn't.

At the very most, he'd been stunned into temporary silence at how far off the rails things had gone. This was supposed to be a rescue mission, but the whole 'hauling people out of a place they were comfortable with and throwing them in the back of a van' thing seemed like it fell more under the category of kidnapping then rescue. Or maybe the word was abduction?

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. This whole mess had started with him being hijacked, and that had turned out rather well, all things considered. He'd met Arthur. Maybe being abducted by the men in black's militant cousins would end in, like, a medal or something.

A sandwich, at least. Adventures, after the adrenaline had worn off, had a tendency of leaving one famished. Also, very sore.

Surely saving the world from atomic holocaust warranted a sandwich and some pain killers.

Whatever nebulous government agency now claimed custody over Alfred didn't seem to think so, because, after he'd been thrown unceremoniously into the back of a van, they seemed to have forgotten about him. In favor of what, Alfred didn't know, but he was sure they weren't going to ignore him forever. He'd played an important part in this whole almost-catastrophe. They'd have to deal with him at some point. So he settled down in a corner and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

To break up the monotony, Alfred had taken to shouting and banging on the, presumably bulletproof, walls of his new surroundings and had achieved absolutely nothing in the way of a response from his rescuers. Abductors.

Resductors?

God, he was too tired for this.

The floor of a military vehicle was probably the same level of uncomfortable as the floor of a military complex, so Alfred had settled down and tried to get some rest. Whatever they were doing outside continued for some time, and Alfred sat there listening to the muffled sounds of people and helicopters until, with a shake and a dull, guttural roar, the van came to life and began to roll off towards some unknown destination. The event was met by the, now familiar, swoop of fear low in Alfred's stomach but eventually even anxiety of what was going to happen to him, and to Arthur, faded and the monotonous sound of the road and the slight swaying of the vehicle lulled Alfred into a dreamless sleep.

When Alfred woke, vehicle doors were slamming and it was dawn.

The doors to his particular accommodations were thrown open and two men in now familiar spec-ops garb stood expectantly outside. Alfred ignored them, rolling his neck and wincing at the resulting stiffness. Sleeping in the back of a van definitely wasn't good for your spine.

"What?" he groused hoarsely, rubbing at the junction of neck and shoulder to try and loosen things up. "No breakfast? You sure know how to show a man a good time."

In lieu of a verbal response, his guards dragged him bodily from the van.

"Jeeze. I'm going. I'm going."

There were other vehicles rolling in and unloading people and equipment around them, but no matter how he craned his neck, he couldn't catch sight of Arthur. Or anyone else familiar. The guards stayed uncomfortable close as they marched him into yet another military building, though, thankfully, this one was above ground. Alfred hadn't known where they thought he was going to do. As previously mentioned, the place was swarming with military personnel and he was willing to bet that fence, the high one with barbed wire at the top, went all the way around the complex.

He was guided through a series of hallways - wide, well-lit ones, which was a nice change of pace - and left in an interrogation room. Alfred had given the place a one over and had been a little surprised. It looked so much like a stereotypical interrogation room that Alfred was tempted to believe that it couldn't possibly be what he thought it was. But no, there was the obvious panel of one way glass. There were the uncomfortable metal table and chairs. There was a glass of water. And-

Were those bagels?

Huh. Cinnamon raisin.

Apparently they did know how to show a guy a good time.

Alfred sat down, drained the glass of water in one long pull, and then wished he'd hadn't because the bagels turned out to be stale and more than a little dry. He took back any positive thoughts he'd had towards the military.

That didn't stop him from eating three of them.

And then he sat around and waited for someone to come talk to him. It was like waiting for someone to call your number at a particularly ominous DMV. By the time the men in the nice black suits had finally showed up in his new accommodations, Alfred had gone past helpful, to intimidated, to angry, to bored. It was clear that he wasn't very high up on their timetable. Then again, maybe that was some sort of intimidation technique.

The least they could have done was ask interesting questions.

But no. It was all 'name, please' and then a round of 'good cop, bad cop' and then a series of 'what were you doing on the night of the fifth' type questions. They were asking things all out of order, too. Alfred was having enough trouble keeping the blur of events in order in his head without having them skip around from event to event. Some of which he hadn't even been a part of.

Finally, fed up with whatever games they were playing, Alfred had told them to get him some water and then he'd tell them his story. His whole story. In order. He'd tell them as many times as thy wanted and in as much detail as he could. The men in nice black suits had shared a look and agreed.

And so, he'd taken a deep breath and begun.

What felt like hours later, Alfred was released from that room into the office of a middle aged man with far too many things pinned to his military uniform. Without preamble, the man had told Alfred, in no uncertain terms, that he was a total asshat. What had he been thinking? Could he even begin to understand the magnitude of the situation he'd gotten involved with? Did he understand how poorly things could have gone? On and on and on.

Alfred had sat there numbly and come to the conclusion that this man was an expert in chewing people out.

He could also bury Alfred with a hand motion, which is why Alfred just sat there and let himself be chewed out.

Finally, the man finished and, in a tight, strained sort of voice, acknowledged that the country owed him a great debt. All the evidence they had corroborated his testimony. He was free to go.

There was, of course, a catch.

As it turned out, saving the word didn't earn you much. But saving the world and then keeping your mouth shut about it? That opened all sorts of doors.

Alfred was looking at a blank check written out by the US government.

A smart person would've taken it, meekly seen themselves out, and forgotten the whole ordeal.

Alfred by now probably had a dossier which spelled out in nice red letters how much of an idiot he was. Which was why he met the man's eyes, thanked him politely, and then demanded to know what had happened to Arthur. What was going to happen next.

What happened next was this:

Lily was released and put on a plane to Switzerland basically the moment they were able to confirm who she was. Her brother was apparently even more terrifying than Alfred had speculated.

Eduard was released as well, though he was almost immediately placed in a psychiatric care facility. The doctors had been optimistic about his condition, and were certain that, given time, he'd be able to recover.

Tino and Mathias went to prison. There was a lot of fuss about, where, exactly, they should be incarcerated. They'd committed a lot of crimes in a lot of places and, as a result, a lot of people were out for their blood. One thing was for sure, they were never going to breathe free air again.

Alfred stayed in that complex for a time until they knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he was innocent. No one could seem to decide if he was the luckiest or unluckiest person they had ever met. He signed a lot of paperwork saying that he would never, ever talk about anything he'd gone through, and then he was free to leave.

Except not really, for a variety of reasons.

For one, the cyber security folks he learned of Alfred's escapades and had just about had a fit when they'd learned the higher-ups were just going to let him walk out the door without trying to recruit him.

Alfred received about eight job offers in the span of five minutes.

For another, there was no way in hell that Alfred was just going to leave Arthur after all they'd been through, so he'd dug in his heels and demanded to be kept in the loop. If they didn't, he'd start telling people what he knew, and he could do a whole lot of damage to the US government's reputation before they managed to take him down.

Long story short, the US government didn't play chicken when they didn't have to.

Alfred was kept informed of the proceedings.

Arthur wasn't released like Alfred and the rest. Tino had done a good job of plating false evidence and ruining Arthur's name. Even with recent evidence coming to light, that wasn't enough for some to clear him of all guilt.

They'd shipped him off to England to get sorted out, and things had looked grim.

And then Francis had come out of his coma.

Not even Tino had planned for that.

There had been some confusion as to whether Francis was in any state to be giving testimony, and how valid it would be, but once the man had learned of Arthur's situation, he'd been insistent. Arthur had been equal parts grateful and annoyed. He owed Francis quite a bit for saving his metaphorical bacon. It was something he was sure the Frenchman was going to hold over his head for the rest of his life.

It took yet more time before a decision was reached, but, finally, Arthur was a free man once more.

And there was now an ocean between them.

Alfred had joked that when he'd said they needed some space, he didn't mean this much. That had gotten a chuckle out of Arthur. His smile wasn't as beautiful viewed though a web camera, but it had still been breathtaking.

They'd Skyped after that. And called. And texted. It was a lot to figure out a relationship when you were an ocean apart, especially when they were trying to get their lives back together in the wake of what Tino had done.

They'd managed though. After everything, they weren't going to let something like distance defeat them.

Which wasn't to say it wasn't something they talked about. Alfred had been willing to move to England, but Arthur hadn't wanted him to give up the opportunities that were opening for him there. Alfred had shot back that it wasn't like it was going to be hard to find work now, and Arthur had put in enough years with his current job that he shouldn't think lightly of leaving it. Besides, England was his home and it wasn't like his most recent trip to

America had been an enjoyable one.

Arthur had begged to differ. He had, after all, met the most amazing person while he was over there.

Alfred... hadn't really had a comeback.

So, Alfred had taken a well-paying government job and Arthur had applied to work on some sort of joint operation that would place him in the states. Alfred bought a nice new apartment and began to move in, and Arthur sold his and prepared to move. After that, it was a blur of getting ready to get settled into their new lives together. The prospect was both exhilarating and terrifying and, before either of them new it, Alfred was headed up to his parent's to get the last few boxes of stuff and Arthur was packing up to board a plane.

"He's not even 'moving in' moving in." Alfred explained for perhaps the dozenth time. "He's just staying with me for a little while as he looks for his own apartment. We're not ready to live together yet. We're taking it slow."

"Right." Said Alfred's mother. "Of course he's going to get his own place."

"Mom."

"Oh, honey." And then she was hugging him. She'd been hugging him a lot lately. Sometimes for seemingly no reason. Alfred just hugged back and waited for her to switch back between teary eyed at the return of her son and familiar exasperation at Alfred's antics. Alfred's father watched in the background, quietly radiating paternal affection and pride, which had been his default setting after he'd finished yelling at Alfred for worrying them like that.

"Well, I suppose you'd better get going. Don't want to keep your boyfriend waiting. Be safe. Good luck. Remember to call."

"Of course I'll call." He'd been calling his parents daily to assure them he was still alive and well. His parents has passive aggressively insisted upon it.

"Oh, one more hug." There was one more hug from his mother, a proud clap on the shoulder from his father, and then Alfred was hauling one last box of stuff down to his car. A box of stuff he almost dropped as his phone went off.

It was Arthur.

"Hey!" Alfred said breathlessly.

"Hey." Arthur chuckled.

"Your plane arrive?"

"Yes. I wanted to call you before I boarded. Are you still planning to pick me up at the airport?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Let's see if you're that upbeat after my plane's been delayed for some unfathomable reason. I really hate traveling. I can't wait to have a job where I'm not forever being shuttled off to somewhere or another."

"Aw. No more field work?"

"No more field work."

"Too bad. I could've been be your van guy!"

"My- What?"

"You know. In spy movies there's always this guy in this van with all this high tech monitoring equipment inside who does all the hacking and stuff so the spy can slip in unnoticed. I could totally be your van guy!"

"I appreciate the sentiment, but you've already spent entirely too much time cooped up in a moving vehicle on my behalf."

"I didn't mind."

"Yes, well. I was hoping any future interaction we might have in... uh, 'close quarters' might be a little more... comfortable."

"You're adorable."

"S-shut up! I'm trying to seduce you!"

"Trust me, you've got that covered."

"You-" Arthur sputtered. Alfred laughed.

"Call me when you land?"

"You know I will. You're my ride, after all." Arthur teased, voice fond.

"I'll see you soon, alright?"

"I'm looking forward to it. Just don't be late, or I'll be very cross with you."

Alfred just about melted. How had someone as wonderful as Arthur decided to take a chance on Alfred?

"I really like you. You know that, right?"

"I really like you too."

"Just checking."

"You are entirely too wonderful. I'm going to have to stop talking to you now before I do something stupid. I'm just- I'm going to get on this plane and then-"

"You'll do something stupid in person?"

"Yes. No. I'll see you in a few hours."

"See you in a few hours." Alfred echoed.

"Bye."

"Bye."

They hesitated for a minute, Alfred listening to the faint ambient noise of an airport over the phone, before Arthur reluctantly hung up. God, he couldn't wait until that plane landed. He hurried the rest of the way to his car, dumping the box into the trunk with significantly less care than he would have under other circumstances. Arthur was more important than vintage comics.

"Ready R2?" he called as he turned on his new GPS and started up his car.

His GPS whistled cheerfully in the custom voice he had downloaded for and brought up directions.

R2-D2 was such a good co-pilot. Though, to give Hitler his due, he was responsible for Alfred meeting Arthur, so he supposed it could be forgiven. He still wouldn't entrust it with something this important. He looked over at the bouquet of roses on his passenger's seat that had been placed in a vase of ice water on his mother's advice. Yeah, this was definitely too important for the likes of Hitler.

"Alright." he said, thinking of green eyes and a shy smile. "Let's go."

[End Epilogue]

And they lived happily ever after.

I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to review. I hope you all enjoyed this crazy ride I've dragged you all on. You guys really kept me going and I didn't anticipate the response this fic received. Like, seriously. Who wants to read a fic about two dorks stuck in a car together?

Apparently, you do. And I'm a little sad have to tell you all that this is the end. This strange road trip is finished, and I have no plans to do a sequel. I'll still be writing, in some form or another, so perhaps we'll see each other in the future.

Safe travels!

End.