A/N:

I know I promised this at the end of the summer and I'm sorry to say it is still in the works. However, I am posting the first chapter to let everyone know I am still working on it and I haven't forgotten about it. When the second chapter comes out, I will begin weekly updates on the story. I currently have eight chapters written for this story and it's required a TON of research.

When I am confident I can update weekly on the story, I will post the second chapter. This is simply to let everyone know I am still working on it! It's been a greater undertaking than I expected it to be.

Please enjoy the story! Remember I enjoy all types of feedback! If I have managed to screw up some of the history, feel free to let me know and I'll be sure to correct my errors in the next chapter's author's notes.

I do not own Hetalia.

Historical quotes are in italics. Feel free to look them up.

I will say I don't have as many quotes in this story as I did in America's Promise. In fact, the first chapter is the only one currently with a quote.

Chapter one: Revolutionary War

Yorktown, October 19, 1781

Britain had lost. He sat there on his knees the tears he had been so desperate to hold back now came forward in waterfalls. Ugly sobs wrecked his body as America stood stone faced above him staring. Shame coursed through the Empire. He should have been able to do it. He should have taken that shot.

"You were once so great," America told him only to bring more sobs from his chest.

America stayed silent with his teeth tight together and his head held high waiting for Britain to finish. Finally, Britain stood and wiped the tears from his eyes. A weary, bitter smile twisted his lips. Through the hiccups Britain managed to respond.

"One day, boy, you'll know the pain of having a part of you torn away, and when that day comes I'll watch with interest," Britain guaranteed.

America's eyes, which were beginning to soften, suddenly hardened again.

"That won't happen because I'll treat my people right," America replied self-assured.

Britain shook his head, "You are brand new America, barely even a country, if I could call you that!" Britain spat.

"I am a country and you will recognize me!" America roared.

Britain was unfazed by America's aggression, "You are only thirteen nation states! That does not make a country! You'll learn, boy, your states will be your downfall," Britain disagreed.

Fire burned in America's eyes. He had worked so hard to become equal with Britain and still the Empire mocked him even in defeat. America would not be Britain.

Paris, September 3, 1783

Britain barely made eye contact with his previous colonies. He could barely stand to be in Paris where France stared smugly at Britain. Of course, France and Spain had supported America in his revolution against Britain. The entire situation made him sick.

"Why Britain, you must be going soft," France said as Britain signed the document.

France continued to make this more difficult. It took everything not to strangle his long standing enemy then and there.

"Shut it, frog, this has nothing to do with you," Britain grumbled out instead.

"You must have cared so much for young America here," France threw an arm around America, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"France," America muttered in distress.

Britain gritted his teeth, but chose not to reply. This was purely for Britain's gain not America's. He still wanted to be close to America, so perhaps he was being a bit generous in his terms of the treaty. This would also help Britain out by keeping America as a valuable trading partner. He wasn't ready to let America go yet.

"Perhaps, you seek to buy peace rather than make it," France continued to instigate.

"Cut it out France!" America suddenly declared glaring at the French nation.

Britain looked at America astonished that he had taken up for the Empire. A sudden feeling of hope curled in his chest that maybe one day they could repair their relationship and be close again. It would take decades, centuries perhaps, but Britain thought he would be ready for that.

As the meeting ended, Britain found America ready to depart. The ship flew the new nation's stars and stripes and it caused nausea to settle in his stomach. The lad was truly a country now and with it would come many hardships. Britain could only hope he'd prepared America enough.

"I hope you're ready," Britain startled America, who hadn't noticed the Empire.

America frowned gaining his composure quickly, "For what?" he questioned confused.

Britain chuckled sardonically, "You're new, America. Everyone is going to be taking advantage of you, and that includes me," Britain threatened subtly.

America's confusion turned to anger, "But the treaty-," Britain interrupted him gleefully.

"Oh dear boy! You sincerely think that sheet of paper is going to make people respect you?" Britain questioned in disbelief.

America's anger deflated and he turned without a word onto his ship. Britain was filled with a self-loathing as he watched America's ship slowly depart into the sea on a long journey back to his soil. Britain sighed. He'd had to warn the boy. He had wanted to be on equal terms with the world, and now he'd have to deal with the consequences.

March 14, 1794

He'd been born amongst the cotton fields and found by dark-skinned laborers. Confusion settled deep in the plantation he was born on in Virginia. Where had the child come from, and how had such a young child managed to survive on his own? These are what his caretakers wondered.

The senator had been visiting his home on the day the slaves found the boy on his plantation. The child was darker skinned than that of a proper white child indicating he must have come from a poor family who could not afford slaves. His hair had been sun bleached blonde from his time out in the sun and these traits made his dark blue eyes stand out all the more prominently.

James Monroe was the senator of Virginia and all it took was one word from the child for him to realize that this child was not ordinary. James Monroe was aware of the personification of the newly proclaimed United States as all the Founding Fathers were, and the more he stared at the child the more he saw America.

"Who are you, child?" James Monroe questioned.

The boy that sat on his lap blinked up at Monroe and smiled.

"South," was all he said and James felt his heart still.

This could not be another country. What did this mean? Another war? South? South what? Monroe felt his breathing speed up as he held the child. They had worked so hard to form America. They couldn't lose it to this boy.

The boy's head cocked to the side as he watched Monroe with knowing eyes. This child was the physical embodiment of a country, yet he knew Monroe. Monroe was one of his senators.

"You should not be afraid, Mr. Monroe," the boyish tone attempted to calm him with a comforting smile.

"How has this come to be?" Monroe asked in astonishment.

South shrugged, "I am the avatar of the Southern United States. All I know is I was birthed from the will of the people here," the boy was so elegant in his wording, Monroe found him questioning the age of South.

"Does America know of you?" Monroe asked.

South shook his head, "Not yet. He is more concerned with Britain," the boy answered.

"I see. You are aware of him?" Monroe questioned.

"Yes, he is unaware of my birth," South reiterated.

Monroe felt a terrible foreboding settle in his chest. This child was a part of America and he would be fool to allow such a treasure to run free. The British and the French would love to get their hands on such a possession.

"Would you be amendable to travel with me back to Washington?" Monroe questioned in acquiesce.

South looked up at him with big eyes, "I would love to," he answered.

Washington D.C

When Monroe walked into the Senate chamber with the boy in tow, everyone stopped for a moment to see who had interrupted. Eyes widened around the room as they saw the boy before turning to confusion. John Adams cleared his throat to silence the murmuring.

"James," Adams began carefully, "You are aware children are not permitted during sessions."

Monroe looked out of place. He had hoped he would find America here, but the country was nowhere to be seen. Even if the country wasn't here now, he would be soon when he unveiled South to the Senate. America would know the moment his government did.

"This is no ordinarily child, John. Look at him," Monroe cast his gaze down to the boy, who looked at everything in fascination.

"Good Heavens," Adams gasped and his face paled.

"Meeting is adjourned. I will reschedule within the coming week," Adams managed and with a shaky hand he slammed the gavel.

Adams waited impatiently for the Senate to file out in confusion. Monroe wiped the slight sweat that had beaded up on his forehead. Finally, the last of the Senate had left and Adams turned on Monroe.

"What is this?" Adams hissed his eyes briefly making contact with South before flying back to Monroe.

"This, John, is the personification of the Southern United States of America," Monroe announced heavily.

The Vice President stared at the boy as South stared back at him curiously.

"There's no denying the resemblance. It's uncanny," Adams sighed running a hand down his face.

"George isn't going to like this."

"And what is he not going to like?" George Washington appeared in the doorway with a wide-eyed America.

America felt like his airway was too restricted to breathe. A part of himself had gained sentience. Something had triggered a birth of a new embodiment of his country. His, America's, not this boy's. Even during the Revolutionary War none of his states had gained the ability to personify their own avatar. America had been almost certain one would appear since his states' rights made each one nearly their own country. A major event had taken place to cause this, and America would get to the bottom of it.

"Mr. President, sir," Adams managed shakily, "And Mr. America, it is a pleasant spring day, is it not?"

Washington stared at the boy holding onto Monroe's hand that smiled up at him.

"No pleasantries, please, John, I am more interested in what now holds to James' hand," Washington declared.

The president walked forward leaving America still frozen in the doorway and kneeled in front of the boy, who had yet to say anything during the entire introduction.

"Who are you," Washington asked softly.

"South," the boy responded in a southern accent and held out his hand politely, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Washington."

"The pleasure is mine," Washington responded in a knee jerk reaction.

Washington looked stunned as he took the small hand in his own and paled. The boy was strong. South's grip left imprints of his small fingers in the skin of the president's hand when Washington pulled away. Southern economy had begun to boom after the invention of the cotton gin and it certainly showed in this boy.

"The cotton gin," America muttered with wide eyes.

Eli Whitney had just managed to get his patent on the invention recently, but how could a simple economy boost create a personification?

Washington turned to America then as if to ask what to do about this. America slowly stepped forward completely unprepared to meet this new personification of his Southern states. The South's eyes never wavered from America's face as the country kneeled before his Southern states.

"I'm America," America introduced himself lamely, his mouth suddenly filled with cotton ironically.

South's eyes twinkled and he smiled a toothy grin, "I am our Southern States of America, sir. I have been excited to meet you since arriving," the boy was ever so polite and the accent warmed America's heart.

"Well, South," America sighed, "I guess that makes me your big brother."

And the thought terrified America, him, a big brother. He wasn't ready for this. He'd barely just won his independence from Britain.

Britain.

Britain could never know about the South's personification. The words spoken to him the day he finally beat his ex-brother echoed in his mind.

"One day, boy, you'll know the pain of having a part of you torn away, and when that day comes I'll watch with interest."

America would never allow his South to be taken from him. He would rather be dissolved than allow anyone to take his new brother away. The United States of America reached down and pulled South into his arms as the boy immediately wrapped his arms around his big brother's neck.

Washington, Monroe, and Adams watched with open interest at the interaction and the trio breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps they had been wrong to assume that America would dissolve by the hands of South. America should be able to keep his southern little brother contained.

Thank you so much for reading! I'm hoping to start weekly updates around Thanksgiving. I'm estimating about 15 or more chapters in the story's entirety.

I love all reviews, favorites, and follows! I don't mind if you're too shy to review still feel free to follow and read and I'll know you enjoyed the story.