Yearning

Author: Queen Celestia

Betareader: daedricgurl

Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia nor make any money off of. Nor do I take credit for the poem 'Yearning' by Luisa Lee.

AN: Basically I read this poem and this crack one shot came to mind.

xxxxx

I have increasingly

Missed you
Since you left.

Sometimes he missed Alfred.

It had been years since his proud obnoxious brother had disappeared into the Whitehouse to die.

Well, not exactly die.

More like to curl up in the storage, too emaciated to move, or even do anything.

Your gentle voice
That Whispered of love

And your warm eyes

Which I met with joy

Are greatly missed.

It had started when he had bought Alaska, that ring Alfred always forgot to wear, some bauble bought for cheap from Russia, the state that everyone seemed to forget, except now and then, when some loudmouth showed up.

He had seen Alfred in financial crisis, so he had decided to help, and he bought Alaska. A small deal, tidy deal, nothing to rupture their relationship.

The difference was that Matthew always wore the ring, the dark stone swirling with colors. Hold it up to the sun, and you see stars, hold it up to the moon and you see the blood of revolution. The strange Russian characters engraved in the thick silver band worn down, but still visible.

Canada had become progressively more socialist- not communist, not a dictatorship – but socialist.

Would you call Sweden, Norway, and Denmark communist?

No, of course not.

Alfred had laughed at his brother, and boasted that he would never get that way.

Something that Matthew found endearing.

Alfred would never admit it, but he actually had a lot in common with Arthur; the firm belief that invisible forces would make everything ok.

But they hadn't.

He had to keep bailing his country out, the companies with their cruel leaders revealing again and again that they didn't give a shit for the country, only for themselves, only for their yachts and mansions.

The cracked dreams of thousands, Alfreds comments of 'they should work harder, for everything is provided'. Ignoring the others keeping them down, the hatred, the suspicion of anyone with a different culture, skin tone, anything that didn't automatically homogenize.

Matthew couldn't get high and mighty with Alfred for that though, they had both inherited deep seated racism from Arthur, and Francis, something that molded and shaped them.

I have waited for you

More than ever

Since I sent you away.

It was only later, when Matthew looked into the eyes of the great Native leaders, witnessed what he had done, did he feel his heart break.

Look into the eyes of Kiku, and realize, that the Japanese he had imprisoned had nothing at all to do with that man, and that he had essentially just harmed himself.

But being brought up with racism was hard to shake, something he tried hard to do, but sometimes, now and then…

His was more subtle, not as loud as Alfred's, not as proud as Alfred's. Not as militant as Alfred's. He wondered why for Alfred's country for anything to change, why it had to get so militant. So angry?

Why change couldn't be made quietly, like a soft summer afternoon.

I am sad

Because you

With whom I shared

Hardships and loneliness, and

Partook in sorrows and pains

Are gone.

There were grumblings within the States, something that Matthew paid slight attention to, his mind was more on his firmly established relations with Russia, the road they were building together, to connect all of Russia, a road that would not break so easily.

It was when Alfred declared war upon the entirety of Africa that Matthew took notice. When Alfred informed Matthew that all of Africa was evil and needed to be rescued, and when he tried to pressure Matthew to actually believe that bullshit, Matthew took notice.

Alfred got insanely angry when Matthew quietly took his glasses off, cleaned them, placed them back on, the reflection hiding the violet of his eyes and simply stated that 'No, he would not go into the war against Africa'.

Alfred had adjusted his jacket, stormed off, and invaded Africa, not realizing that all his good intentions were the manipulations of the rich men who did not care.

Feeding their country the dreams of heroism, of actually doing something right for a change, but just letting him fall flat on his face.

Americans flocked to the border, wanting in, begging to be let in, not wanting to be part of another useless war, and Matthew, at first reticent, knew that when the conscription act came into play, that he would let them in.

Time passes away.
Love is gone, and
Only yearning remains as if to protect me.

And when Alfred went completely bankrupt yet again, the invisible forces for some reason, still not working, Matthew ended up buying Washington and Oregon.

The people were getting wary, worried about an aggressive Canadian takeover.

Matthew realized what a headache the Americans were, and wondered why he even thought it was a good idea to even buy any of it.

He was thankful when those proud Americans moved out, down, away.

The prairie states got bought in one fell swoop, while other states fell away.

He was doing it trying to save his deranged brother, who was losing weight rapidly, and whose hamburgers seemed to be turning grey, dripping grease and fat, all over his bomber jacket. He didn't even notice.

Texas was the last state holding out, other than Washington D.C.

Matthew felt a slight wave of relief, when they declared themselves their own country, not wanting to be part of 'commie Canada'.

He was too tired to even bother to explain the difference between Communism and Socialism.

Better to leave them by themselves.

Washington D.C., the last remaining state, looked at the lack of country, and gave up. The president acceding to the prime minister, the United States finally completely gone.

A mere memory, one where strict capitalism without compassion failed.

Where the broken dreams littered the ground like so many cigarette butts blowing in the wind.

In spring as flowers and leaves,
In fall as colored and fallen leaves,
In winter as snow and rain,

You come to see me
And I welcome you
Who is coming as a yearning.

Now and then, when he had time, he would go to the old White House – he had kept it, allowed the Americans to keep their history, incorporating it into the Canadian canon. The Canadian canon being forced out of the vaults, out of the mouths of quietly forgetful Canadians, where the heroes like Terry Fox, Lester B. Pearson, Louis Riel, and Trudeau suddenly took on massive proportions of heroism.

And while others, were more quietly forgotten.

He would enter the storage, and look for his brother, although as of late it had been getting harder and harder to find him.

Until one day, he found his brother, sitting in a chair, so heart breakingly thin and still that Matthew seriously thought that he had finally died.

But a smile was there, before Alfred, his eyes twinkling said.

"Good job brother. I'll make sure to haunt you when I'm fully gone."

"No, don't say that, I only wanted to save you." Came the desperate whisper, a calloused hand brushing his brother's hair away from his forehead, looking into clear blue eyes the glasses long ago gone.

Alfred had only smiled, before closing his eyes, and fully disappearing.

Yet, I have increasingly
Missed you

Since you left.