Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia.

This fanfiction is inspired by a fanart I came across. Thank you for your time!

American Copies

Chapter 1 – Introduction

Alfred F. Jones's eyelids opened to reveal baby blue eyes that stared up at the rolling clouds of the United States' plains. The colors of the clouds, he noted, were hues of gray and the soft grass that cradled his body waved in the cool winds. A bit of hay stuck out from between Alfred's pearly teeth and smooth lips. The length of hay swayed from side to side in the wind and finally was tugged from Alfred's mouth. "It's gonna rain," Alfred's rarely soft voice spoke out to no one. His eyes slid close, begging for a nap on the grass that tickled his slender fingers and high boned cheeks.

A voice demanded loudly, "Are you a loyalist or a patriot?"

Alfred's eyelids opened and looked up to his left. Originally, his expression was relaxed and without much care, but it instantly was stricken with shock as he saw a young teenager pointing an old musket at him. He sat up quickly, blades of grass stuck to his bomber jacket. Bright blue eyes glared at Alfred and the teenager's revolutionary war uniform flowed on the wind's back. He shouted again, "Answer! Are you a loyalist or a patriot?"

"Oh, my God," Alfred breathed and stood slowly. He was maybe a foot taller than the revolutionary soldier and the soldier had a spark of fury buried in his eyes.

The soldier cocked his old musket, "I'm not going to ask again! I'll shoot you in ten seconds!"

"Patriot, soldier," Alfred answered while awing at his former self, "I am most definitely a patriot." Harsh memories swarmed in Alfred's mind, threatening him to run to Arthur for comfort.

The soldier grinned. The hostile look in his eyes dispersed almost immediately. He put his gun back under his arm and over his head as he thrusted his right hand out to greet his ally's, "It's always good to meet another fellow patriot. C'mon, General Washington needs us at Valley Forge."

Alfred shuddered from the freezing memory that was Valley Forge, "You really don't need to do that, I promise you." He shook his former self's hand warmly. "Actually, the war's over," He said with a smile.

The revolutionary war Alfred looked at his future self with a bewildered expression, "Over?" He let his hand drop, "How could it be over? I just spent weeks gathering men of all ages that hate the British to join me at Valley Forge with George Washington! I didn't see the last battle yet! What's going on?"

Alfred held up both of his hands to signify that his other self should calm down, "Hold on. Let's start with how you got here. Right now, the year is 2011. I'm pretty sure that you skipped a few years."

The revolutionary soldier's voice cracked as his mouth hung open. "T-two thousand eleven? What happened to the 235 years I lost?" His hands shot to his scalp and his fingers dug through his hair in complete horror. "How on Earth did this happen?"

"Hey, hey," Alfred pulled the teenager's hands from his head and he spoke in a tranquil manner, "everything will be okay. I'm sure Tony can fix something up to send you back to your original time and then you can beat the pants off of Arthur with Francis."

The shock was off young Alfred's face, but he continued to speak either way, "Do I win? Do I earn my freedom?"

A bit of aged amusement twinkled in Alfred's eyes. He locked his weathered gaze with the soldier's youthful one, "Mm, I can't spoil that for you, I'm afraid. It's big. Don't you ever give up. For as long as you live, don't you ever give up. Become the strongest nation you can be."

A confident grin spread across the soldier's face, "Yeah. I'll be the greatest hero in the free world!"

Alfred nodded and matched the soldier's smile, "That's right. You even get to save the world." A displeased expression came over Alfred's face, "It's true that it takes some poking from Arthur t-…" Alfred thought about how it was Arthur that finally forced him into past battles. "It… Well, you just join because Arthur finally gets you off your cowardly butt." He stopped talking when he noticed that his younger self's brain was full to bursting with confusion. "Just focus on winning the Revolutionary War." He patted the soldier's shoulder.

An exuberant voice combined with a thunder of hooves shot out from the winds of the plains.

Both Alfreds turned forward to see a young man from a time between the first cries of freedom and the clacking of the Information Age. With one hand clinging onto a fist of charcoal horse hair and the other swinging over his head, clutching a vintage, open-crowned hat, the boy kicked his spurs back into his horse's hide. He shouted and yipped as the horse dashed across the plains. The cowboy's voice rang out as loud as he could, "To the light, Alice, to the light!"

"My God," Alfred spoke with disbelief laced through his words, "why…?" He was not quite sure what it was he could ask. It was already strange enough to have a very vivid memory of his old military days standing beside him, but to have a flash of the mid to late 1800's memory appear as well? Were these the beginnings of losing one's mind?

The revolutionary soldier nudged his future self in the ribs and pointed towards their left - to the direction that the rancher was riding towards. The modern Alfred looked to his left to see streaks of light escaping the confines of the graying clouds that centered at once spot about half a mile away. The revolutionary soldier began walking towards it, but stopped and looked back to his modern self. "Well, come on," he said, "that light isn't going to be there forever. You see all the clouds." He began walking again and the modern Alfred hesitantly joined him.

The two conversed about past trifles and fun memories until they could just see what the excitement was in the distance. Alfred squinted through his glasses, "Is that..?" Upon realizing who it was that sat in a small crowd of look-alikes, his is mouth hung open in complete and utter shock.

"That guy sitting looks a lot like Arthur," Revolutionary Alfred spoke gently, trying to keep his anger at a minimum.

The man sitting was Arthur. The only change was his appearance. Fluffy white wings bloomed from his back and a white robe clung to Arthur's pale frame. The cowboy Alfred lied on his stomach, poking a pale creature with a flick of white sprouting from its head. There was another Alfred that was just a year or two younger than revolutionary Alfred. He was dressed in a suit seemingly pulled out from a dark chest from which it was hidden and he stood over the group, watching the child pulling at Arthur's right arm. "Come play with me," the child whined as he tugged. Arthur laughed with delight as the toddler was cradled in Arthur's other arm, examining the magic wand.

Modern Alfred's voice sunk down to a dangerous level, "Britannia Angel."

"Oh," Revolutionary Alfred nodded his head, "That makes sense. Britannia Angel used his magic to bring all ages of me to the same time. So my future is that cowboy and you-" Revolutionary Alfred looked up at his modern self. The Alfred from the Information Age could not dwell on the insightful observation his younger self had suggested. Sure, it made sense. Sure, he was sure that Arthur was so selfish that he would try to pull such a stunt…but at this moment all he knew was rage.

"All my history," Modern Alfred's voice was still dark and threatening, "I've worked so hard for it and he… I'll kill him. I'll kill him for threatening my existence!" Alfred's fists turned white from his grip. Revolutionary Alfred's eyes sparked with excitement from the other's anger.

The suited Alfred glanced back at the soldier and super power. He seemed to be the only one who could not keep his gaze on one thing for very long. Alfred snatched revolutionary soldier's musket and charged at the group.