Hetalia: From Pirate to Gentleman

No one knew the dark side this gentleman still held hidden deep inside. He used to be a pirate, ravishing the Seven Seas and picking on the Spanish Armada. He was great back then and was in command of various colonies from Hong Kong to India and even had servants there. He was lavished with gold and silver and could take whatever he wanted. The sea was his back yard and he was its master. The life of a privateer was a wondrous one, indeed! He was praised for the heinous deeds he committed in the name of the English crown.

But where was he now? All of his plundering and sailing days were over. He had been humiliated and was now only noted for his 'horrible' food and stuffy atmosphere. It frustrated him, but he knew he couldn't go back to that adventurous life. He had lost everything and was forced into subjection by society and the changing times. Some would argue that he took a turn for the better when he made the oath to live out the rest of his days as a gentleman.

Britain lifted the small teacup up to his lips and took a sip; the Earl Grey warmed his stomach. He placed the cup back down on its saucer and sighed. He was sitting in his armchair and was feeling particularly down today. Why was he thinking on the past suddenly? He poured some rum into his tea. Perhaps even he was tired of the same dull day to day occurrences that were this life.

But his pirate life wasn't the only thing he missed in all honesty. Things weren't so bad after he settled down because he gained something in the process – a son. He had found the young boy far away from his own home. The boy was so small and precious and innocent. He even looked similar to the Englishman. He decided to take the young one under his wing and raise him, but in order to do so, he had to fight France over him.

At first, it looked as if this new-turned gentleman was in a battle he couldn't win because his archrival had the upper hand. But then, something very surprising happened to both of them. The young America reached out and took his hand, choosing him over a pampered life. How extraordinary! For the first time in years England thought his heart would burst from happiness. France left, defeated, and England was able to accept his role as a Big Brother. At no other point in his life had he such a small one who relied on him and so he vowed that he would never abandon him.

England loved his Little America and gave him the best he had to offer. The only problem was that America lived so far away that he couldn't spend as much time as he wanted with him. Before he knew it, America had grown up and was declaring his Independence. That little snotty kid! After all, England had given everything he possibly could to America. How dare that youthful heart turn from him, the man who raised him! Sure, he had to tax America, but America was old enough to handle responsibility. The teenager was so ungrateful and in a rebellious state.

America had declared war on England and England was obliged to accept the challenge to show the 'new country' who was boss. Unfortunately, once it came down to it, England couldn't pull the trigger. He looked into the eyes of the man he raised and was defeated instantly. He collapsed on the dark, muddy ground as the rain poured down around the two armies. The words America spoke rang in his ears at all times, "You used to be…so great."

Britain got out from his chair and walked over to the window. He couldn't wallow in those regretful feelings anymore. It was actually a sunny day outside, but that only made his pain worse. He felt as if that bright, yellow sun was mocking his pain. He felt like he was the laughing stock of the whole world at that moment. He was choking on these feelings and felt like there was a rock in his throat. He took a deep breath.

The last thing he wanted to do today was bask in the sun, but he couldn't sit around the house anymore and had to find something to get his mind off of things. He grabbed his vest and began to walk out the door. As he did, the memories once again began to flow…

He remembered a time when he and America had gone for a walk. The young American could never have known how proud of him he was, but there was no way he could swallow his pride and tell him. The boy was holding his hand and was smiling up at him. He thought that moment would last forever.

Britain stopped walking midway from his house to the road. "Blast it, America! Why did you ever do that to me?!" He ran back inside and shut the door. He didn't want to go outside anymore. The sunny days always reminded him of the summer-loving America. He stood with his hand on the door knob for a while, only a blank expression on his face. He felt sort of numb, but didn't want to move despite that tingling feeling.

He started to hear voices in his head. Ghosts, magical creatures, and Captain Hook were the only friends he had in this Splendid Isolation. But they weren't good-humored as normal. Instead they were shouting insults at him and calling him a fool. Britain put his hands up to his head and gripped his hair. "Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" He punched the door and the noises went quiet. He felt as if he had finally gone insane. All he could do was inhale and exhale quietly to himself as he tried to fix these jumbled up feelings.

The telephone rang and startled him. He looked over at the 'telly' and just stared through blurry eyes. The phone kept on ringing. Three, four, five times. He wasn't sure how many times it rang, but it wasn't letting up. He slowly and stiffly started to walk towards the phone as the ringing echoed in his ears. Everything seemed hazy and he reached out a hand to silence the line. He cleared his throat and realized that he was acting foolish. He composed himself and answered. "This is Britain…"

"Hey, dude!" came an excited voice on the other end. "It might sound a little weird, but I was just thinking about you!"

Britain knew who it was and suddenly felt his heart stop. "A…America…"

"Yeah," America laughed sort of nervously. "I know it's outta the blue, but I wanted to see what was up."

Britain tried to compose his voice even more because he realized what a terrible state he was in. "Oh, yes, so it is. But…thank you for calling."

"Are you feeling alright?" America asked.

"Of course!" said Britain. "…why do you ask?"

America was silent, which was uncharacteristic of him considering his talkative nature and his inability to read the atmosphere. He felt awkward for calling up his 'old man' like this.

"Anyway," Britain continued. "How have you been, chap? I have been thinking about you…as well."

The perkiness returned to America's voice. "Oh, you know. The same 'ol stuff. Still alive, still the hero, and still eating at Micky D's every day."

The 'independence' in America's voice went straight to Britain's heart in sort of a dull, depraved ache. But then he got angry. "Why the bloody biscuits would you eat at McDonalds every day?!"

"Because I can," America answered sort of derided. "Besides, what do you care?"

"It's unhealthy!" Britain tried to explain. "Anyway, you could become overweight or die of cardiac arrest."

America laughed. "Dude, you worry too much, enjoy life."

This made Britain go quiet. Enjoy life? Enjoy LIFE?! That sounds like FRANCE speaking! Besides, how can I do that once you've ripped my heart out and stomped on it?!

"Dude?" asked America after the silent moment. "It was just a joke. Come on, don't be so negative."

Britain let the phone ear slip from his hand and it fell to the floor, only dangling from the cord.

"Hello?" America asked. "Dude? Britain? You there, man?"

Britain was angry and he just stared with malice at the small table that held the phone. He clinched his fists. He wished he could just reach through the phone line and strangle that ungrateful little git! Didn't he know how hurt he was over this whole situation the two countries were in?

"Hey, Britain!" he could hear America shout on the dangling line, but he didn't answer.

Britain bit his lip, holding himself down from going on some sort of rampage.

"You're scaring me!" he heard America plea. "Pick up the phone, Big Brother!"

Britain stopped and held his breath at those words, staring down at the line in shock. "He's scared? He needs his…Big Brother…" He quickly reached down and picked up the phone, placing it to the side of his head. America had not called him that since his Independence and he never admitted that he was scared, either. It reminded him of all the times he had tucked him into bed and told him bedtime stories, only to find in the morning that the little boy had wet the bed.

He heard America. "I mean, come on! It's not funny!"

"It's alright, America, I'm here now," said Britain in a sort of choked up voice that now wanted to hold America and tell him everything would be alright. "You don't need to be afraid. Your Big Brother is here now!"

"That's a relief," said America. "I thought you just had one of those heart attacks you were warning me about."

"No, I'm fine now." Britain answered. He truly felt better and wanted to sing out how America had finally acknowledged him as a relative once again.

"Ok, then, I guess," said America. "Dude…do you think…it would be alright for me to come hang out with you sometime soon? I mean…I really need to talk to you about…the past."

It had been months since Britain saw America and now he was willing to come over and talk things out. He was speechless. Was America feeling the same regret as he was? "S-sure." Replied Britain. "I would like that ever so."

"Righteous!" said America, gleaming. "I'll bring some hotdogs and coke over and we can sign those old folk songs you're so fond of…maybe we'll rock out to some hard metal, too."

"I would like that," Britain said. He actually wasn't sure what to say, he was still in a state of shock. Before he knew it they made plans and said goodbye, America dominating the rest of that conversation. Britain hung the phone back down over its resting spot on the hook. He blinked, realizing that he had gotten all worked up over nothing. Even if he didn't remember all the particulars of the arrangement they had just made, he was profoundly happy.

"I should just…Enjoy life." Britain smiled to himself.

END

I was originally going to focus more on the pirate of Britain's past and how he was coping with it today, but since I was talking about his past, it somehow drifted to America and thus the story was completed. I didn't mention much about his rivalry with France, though I find it rather interesting and funny, because it just didn't fit into this kind of 'serious' story. Also, sorry if America's a bit out of character, I actually wanted him to be polite for once. Hope everyone liked it. :D