This is gonna be a longshot cause well, this simply cannot end like this... my poor Alfy.. but yes, expect this to be ridiculously long with all kinds of wonders and horrors.. each chapter will have a warning to tell you whats in it... just saying... and yes.. HISTORICAL ACCURACEY BE DAMNED! ewe

Hetalia doen't belong to me, nor do any of the chars

Chapter 1: the fall of a nation

It wasn't supposed to be like this, a hero was NEVER meant to lose! Especially not to that damn Ruski! Russia had played his cards to well, and one wrong careless step... America had lost it all… the war, his land... his people… communism had taken its hold over the once pro Democracy country. The west had fallen; the so called leader of the free world was NO more.

It was all in less then a year; Soviet troops had landed on the soil. Those who went against them were killed, or shipped off to the motherland. America tried, oh how he tried to defend his land and people... Alaska was the first to fall, then the west coast. And everything snowballed down hill from there. They lasted a month at Texas, holding off the soviets that weren't prepared for the harsh summer. America had managed to push them back to Arizona almost, but damn it. He was supposed to be getting help from his allies. Where were they at?!

Being pushed back another two states, America was giving it the final shot, missiles blaring down onto his own country. His own body… But then again, so was the soviet missile's and goddamn… did they pack one helluva punch on his body. Standing behind a barricade, blood was pouring from his mouth as explosions went off all around him. His soldiers having retreated to regroup in Alabama, Alfred had stayed to try and distract the commies. Damn it… His people were getting slaughtered….

Being pushed back all the way to the east coast he had no choice. Once Washington D.C. had fallen, so did his will to fight. His president having given himself up to protect his citizens… Was soon beheaded on national TV for the world to see. The United States of America was no more. The stars and stripes that once stood as the pillar of pro-democracy, the powerful right hand of the west… Was nothing more then resources for communism now.

He had been stripped of his bomber jacket; of everything that was American... even his blue jeans were burned in front of his eyes. Forced to wear Russian attire, a heavy grey coat that went down to his knees. It was terrible, not to mention terribly hot to be in. It was the goddamn middle of august! Inside the large Russian car he just looked down at the floor, unable to gaze at the man accompanying him. He felt like running away, hiding behind England's legs…like so many years ago. Heading back down to Washington, the blond just clenched his fists as he noticed where they were going. Being forced to where his capital once was. To stand exactly where the oval office once was. Nothing more then a pile of ash, his heart gave painful twitches as he looked around. Burnt pictures of the executed president with his children. The first lady and himself, who were eating a brightly colored cake, America had made for them. A televised event was going to take place; the soviet leader was going to tell the world of how he defeated the west. And pronounce the new territory Russia had gained. Which America had to wonder, why just Russia? Didn't the whole soviet army defeat him? They both stood behind the dark haired Russian/Soviet leader. Talking in a low Russian accent, the president was on a roll.

The blond was biting down hard on his lower lip, trying to understand just what the Russian was saying. Why the fuck couldn't he speak English?! …oh yeah, was he even allowed to speak English anymore? Well he was going to; fuck that Russian snowflake language...

"The new name will be The United Federation States of Russia!"

Alfred blinked as his head shot up, just looking at the man in front of him. The united what of what?! Hand clenching into a fist he took a step forward about to strike the man, as suddenly a large hand cuffed his shoulder.

"Now Fredka~ You will grow to like the name. I will take VERY good care of you."

That smile held so many threats, so many promises of pain and horror. Knuckles turning white he just looked away, closing his eyes as he had to hold back his tears… this couldn't be happening…. England…Canada... why? Why couldn't they have helped him?! Why didn't anybody come to help him….?

Shoulders trembling as Russia went pushing the blond in front for the camera man to take a good look at. Alfred was bruised, a cut across his face from Kentucky by that crazy ass Belarusian woman. He looked defeated, no longer the bright, and excited man he used to be. Even his sky blue eyes had darkened; they looked like a storm heading over the horizon. He felt like hell, but nothing could compare to the pain his heart was giving him.

"The new territory looks so scared~" a Russian reporter mocked as he put a microphone to his face. "Tell us, UFSR… don't you feel so much better now that your not under that capitalists boot?"

He used to love reporters, the paparazzi who always wanted his pictures and a word with him…hell, even when his president messed up he was out there damage controlling with a smile. Just looking at the reporter he knew one thing, they were all assholes. Especially this little fucker, he had to be Russian. That damn accent and annoying ass superiority complex vibe was ALL kinds of Russian.

"United Federation states of Russia?" he asked in that same mocking tone. "Goodness, hope your hearing wasn't ruined by those capitalists."

Fuck this shit, this reporter was going down.

All hell suddenly broke loose as screams of shock and terror filled the air. Alfred had jumped on the man and was slamming his fist into his face repeatedly, people were scrambling to try and get the deranged nation off the now dead man. Bloodied fists slamming into everything that tried to touch him, man, woman, he didn't care anymore.

Russia just watched as he glanced at his president who nodded slowly. The ashen blond went reaching into his coat as he pulled out that rusted faucet pipe as he waited… a Deranged Ex-American was something he could deal with. Alfred was too blinded by anger, too focused on one thing, and that was breaking every bone in the soldier that tried grabbing him.

Ivan had jumped down from the small stage as he took off like a blur, faucet pipe glistening in the sunlight as it came down hard on the blonds head. A sickening crack filled the air before the blond hit the floor. A puddle of blood forming around his head as Russia sighed deeply. What a mess, well he supposed he better get the blond some pain killers for when he woke up.