It seems like forever ago since the last time I saw his blue eyes wet with tears. My little Alfred, crying his eyes out because he was so alone in the big world. Other nations wanted him all for themselves, trying to make their small bits of land bigger. My little ball of light, being pulled apart by the dark shadows.

But he was mine. He was my Alfred. I wouldn't let anyone take him away from me.

I remember the first time I left him by himself. I had to go back home to England and leave him alone for the first time since I took him in. He clung to my leg like a little burr.

"D-Don't leave me!" he cried, his cheeks wet with tears and making a spot on my pants slightly wet, as well. "Don't l-leave me here alone!"

I crouched down beside him and stroked his head. "There, there, Alfred. I have to go. I have my own country to look after. How about I sing you a lullaby before I go, hm? Would that make you feel better?"

He rubbed his eyes and nodded, opening up his eyes to look at me with wet baby blues. I then sang him the soft lullaby.

The most heartbreaking day of my life was the day I lost my Alfred to America. That little boy I loved with all my heart and cared for with every last bit of me. Taken away by America.

I got the chance to spend one last night with that little boy.

"Arthur?"

"Don't look outside," I said, blocking the windows. I didn't want him to see the dead bodies outside our- His home. Fires were raging, too, from the rebelling Americans. I hated that word back then, and I still do sometimes.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" He was waiting by the front door. I had just brought him in not too long after he had won. "I won the war. I don't need you any-"

"I just… Need to tell you something." I sighed and closed my eyes. "You remember that lullaby I sang to you when you were little? You probably don't… It's been so long, and you probably want to forget everything about me right now."

I didn't get a response, but I knew he was listening to me.

I went on. "I'll sing it to you one more time. I want you to remember how I sang it. Even when you can't hear my voice anymore, I want you to remember."

And I sang him the lullaby, shakily, but strongly.

Arthur's in the hospital. And it's all my fault.

We had a fight again, but not during a meeting. This time, it was just me and him at my place. And I had to be a jackass and bring up the Revolutionary War. He told me to stop, but I didn't. In fact, I just got more forceful and meaner. I even made him cry.

Me. The hero. Made my big brother figure cry.

So he drove out to drink his depression away. He drank a lot. But the dumbass had to drink so much that he couldn't drive. And since he was too stubborn to call someone or find a taxi, he tried to drive himself. He got in three-car accident, and his was the one hit the worst.

I was one of the first people called when he was taken into the hospital. They didn't ask him to call me. I was called because I was his only written family member. That meant I was the only one there for him and the only one who knew.

When I got to the hospital, they told me he was in critical condition. I sat in the waiting room for a couple hours. Then they came out again, and I remember their exact words.

"His liver is failing from so much alcohol, and there's nothing we can do without injuring him more and killing him. He won't live much longer."

So now I sit with him, holding his hand.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur," I whisper, holding back my tears.

He was barely there, but awake. "I… I c-can't go," he whispered hoarsely. "Wh… What about m-my little A-Alfred?" He was close to death. So close. The monitor beeped slower with each beat.

And in his final moments, I sang him a lullaby he taught me once, twice.

"Just close your eyes,

The sun is going down

You'll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I'll be safe and sound."

And if I was hooked up to one later that night, mine would have flat lined, too.