I think this is gonna be USUK, but to be honest, I have no idea. It's gonna start of USUK and I'm almost certain there will be PruUK at some point, but apart from a general outline of how this goes, I'm basically just going to make it up as I go along. I'll leave it as just America for now, because he's the main character, but, depending on how it goes, I'll probs change it to AmericaXPrussia later on :P

Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

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It was nearly Christmas, Americas favourite holiday, on par with Thanksgiving, Halloween and July the 4th, which meant he couldn't resist going out to see all his busy people rushing around with Christmas joy.

He particularly liked hanging out in one of the main squares, staring up the Christmas tree as stressed mothers and fathers would stop and let their children play as they rested and stared up at the festive lights. Everything was so pretty and perfect, everyone was happy and no-one cared that it was so cold he swore his balls were going to freeze off. Because, who cared that your fingers were numb when there was ice skating, and free cookies and eggnog! It was so cool.

His country was always the awesomest when it came to celebrating Christmas. No-one did it bigger or flashier (and screw Finland for saying he did it best just because they came up with the concept.)

He sighed contently, rocking back and forth on his heels, warming his hands in his coat pockets as he stared up at one of the most awesome trees he'd seen all year. He had to hand it to his people, they really knew how to go all out. He had almost considered holding his yearly Christmas bash in that very square, but then remembered he would need to fill out a load of paper work to book it, and lost interest in the idea.

The tree was still beyond cool though, about a gazillion feet high (he swore it was taller than all the buildings that surrounded the square), completely decked out in red, silver and blue (best colors ever!) and a massive flashing star at the top that he had to crane his neck right back to even glimpse.

He grinned, blowing out a misty breath which steamed up his glasses and hunched his shoulders, feeling the woolly inner lining of his bomber jacket scrape the bottom of his ears before setting off to one of the malls to find wicked-but-cheap decorations for his party in a few days (because only heroes left everything to the last minute.)

But just as he reached the small road that separated the square from the mall, he stopped, shocked at the sight before him.

England, wrapped head-to-toe in winter gear, stood before him, focusing intently on a piece of paper clenched between one of his mittened hands, his huge eyebrows furrowed together as he squinted at whatever was written on it.

What the hell was he doing here? Last time he had stepped foot in his country it was to beat the living shit out of him for cheating on him with some drunk girl who needed 'saving' from her horniness (he almost lost sight of England in the crowd as he remembered what an awesome night that had been.)

Without hesitating, he called out, not wanting to miss his chance. Maybe if they reconciled quickly he could get some good ol' Christmas lovin' before his awesome party the next day.

"Hey! Arthur!" The other country froze as he finally heard his voice, turning slowly, his eyes widening in horror as he saw America advancing towards him, waving his arms in the air like an idiot and drawing the attention of a few of the humans who were milling around them.

England didn't even want to be here, but his boss had ordered him to go. Seeing America was his number one worry, as he was still beyond pissed at him for cheating on him with some stupid human woman, so to see him advancing towards him with a massive grin on his face like nothing had changed between them sent a wave of rage flowing through him.

England promptly turned, pretending he hadn't seen him and hurried off towards the mall. "Aaaaaaaaaaaarthuuuuur!" Why couldn't that idiot just shut up?

He took off across the road, focusing intently on the doors to the mall before him, hoping he could get lost in the dense crowd of last minute shoppers and find whatever the hell it was his boss had wanted him to get, and ignoring the shouts from America, asking him to 'wait up.'

But he didn't even get through the doors before he heard a screech of tires, a massive thud, followed by screams from the onlookers. His blood froze, his mind instantly thinking the worst as he slowly turned around.

His heart thudded in his ears as pushed past the circle of shoppers that was already beginning to form around the road. A strange buzzing noise grew as began to panic, and couldn't help calling out 'Alfred!', hoping his stupid voice would answer before he reached the road.

But no reply came, and as England broke from the crowd, his heart sunk at the sight before him. A jeep had stopped a few feet from where England had stumbled onto the road, its door wide and the owner tripping over his own feet in a bid to reach the man he had just hit. Cars on the other side of the road had frozen, joining everyone else, from small children to the police officers on the far side of the road who were just staring, mouths agape, focusing on the one thing England was moving towards.

He hadn't even realised he was taking small steps, his eyes tearing up and his whole body trembling as he tried to process what was happening. His ears buzzed, blocking out the sounds of a woman screaming for an ambulance, the cries of children just old enough to know what they were seeing and alarm from a parked car that had flared up when another hit it. He cursed his thick duffle coat and mittens that made it almost impossible to wrap his trembling fingers around the man as he knelt down beside him.

Arthur's vision was blurred, but he could still make out the twisted body, the torn up leg that seemed to bend the wrong way, the shattered glasses lying not two feet from the victims head, and white 50 printed boldly on the back of his bomber jacket.