I wanted to write a story of the special relations between US-UK in the time of crisis. Particularly because every time something happens in the US we are scared to death, and bloody worried! This past week has been a total hell for many Americans, and I wanted to allow England to worry. And also to comfort and show that we care. Because for all our nagging, we really do.

This one is for you America!

And no, I do not own Hetalia.

It is OK for Heroes to cry

Whenever something happens in America his heart skips a beat. He is about to stop whatever he is doing and get over there at once. It has always been like that. Even before the independence war.

Arthur have to admit that in retrospect he is mostly proud that his colony, little brother rather, actually stood up for himself and demanded freedom. It may have been difficult at the time, but Alfred had grown up to be so strong and confident.

Since Alfred, many nations have left him, and England knows that everyone leaves in the end. The ones who haven't yet are usually a thorn at his side. The British brothers never make anything easy. Maybe things work better when you are two independent nations? It is just so hard to give up. To not feel relevant in someone's life anymore. Although he wants to give them their space and let them grow on their own.

However, he can't help but panic when he opens the papers and sees there has been a school shooting on US grounds. Or when the States are hit by hurricanes.

11 September 2001 was one of the worst days in Arthur's long life. Frankly, he had dealt with his own bombs and terrorists for many years. He had fought in his colonies, and had a long time issue with France. He had come dangerously close to falling during the world wars, more than he would like to admit to himself.

But it is easier to deal when it is happening to you. When you are in danger and America can come to the rescue last second and play his role as a Hero. Yes, Arthur might have angrily been asking where he was all this bloody time! But Alfred was always there at the end.

Although the other Europeans had said the Iraq war was a stupid move, he had followed. He couldn't let America go alone. He wanted to show that he cared that people had attacked him. That England was strong enough to protect and be the hero as well, although Arthur knows full well he has no chance in hell to do that in the long run.

However strong America is (and frankly, he is ridiculously so) England can't stop worrying. Alfred's feelings could be hurt, and he always seem to be so happy and naive. Arthur had been through too much, turning old and tired, more so than he would like to let on.

Alfred's childish energy helps him keep going, and it makes him laugh. Although, when Alfred pointed at maps of the US asking where Japan was, or which State England lived next to he couldn't help but facepalm. In the good way, of course.

This very evening, after a lovely dinner of shepherd's pie, Arthur sat down with a cup of tea and his embroidery. It had been a reasonably peaceful day, and he decided to turn on the radio for the BBC evening news.

"Just in: A bomb has gone off at the Boston marathon. This day, meant to be a happy celebration has just turned into a living nightmare for many. At least 3 people have been killed, and many injured as..."

Arthur stared at his radio for a while. What? No! This could not be happening. Not in America!

He nearly sprinted to the phone and called the other nation. "Come on, pick up!" he muttered.

"Hi, Arthur" a hurried voice said in the other end.

"Alfred are you ok!?" England nearly shouted at him. "I just heard on the news. Are you hurt!?" he asked, hoping America could not hear him cry, and that most of the panic didn't reach through.

"Yes. I think so. We are already looking for the ones who did it. We are in control, and my people are amazing. Don't worry Arthur. What is it that you always say? Keep calm and carry on. I need to go. I'll call you later. Don't worry all right?" Alfred said and then quickly hung up.

England stared at the phone, trying to calm himself down. He had been so shocked. It wasn't like him to be this thrown off by disasters. It is typical British to go on after all, to meddle through. But it is so different when it happens to Alfred. America had become his rock, he realised.

The rest of that evening and the following day he was glued to the telly, hoping this whole nightmare would be over quickly. Hoping, above all, that it would not result in a new war. Arthur knew he couldn't afford to help out if it did.

The whole world was watching as America dealt with the situation. England must have drunk all the tea in his house (which was saying something) just out of nervousness. There was shooting, and then the seemingly random threats by the Elvis-impressionists to the White House.

It seemed to never have an end to it all! And America never had time to call. England felt like he was spending all his time staring at his bloody, stupidly silent phone.

Then the explosion in Texas happened.

And the failing to stand up to the powerful gun lobbying, leaving the country with the feeling that the school massacres didn't change anything. Arthur knew that Americans loved their guns, but he couldn't help be annoyed at the ignorance.

One thing is owning guns, another is when your four year olds kill friends or family because they play with loaded guns! Or in general when innocent children are killed because of adults being morons. Arthur couldn't handle people dying from stupidity alone.

England had had enough. He could not calmly wait for news back home anymore, with the occasional text from Alfred saying not to worry. Arthur quickly booked a ticket to the US, even though he had been so resigned not to. To let Alfred handle it all by himself, let him grow up with the pain on his own. But he couldn't!

He was on edge the whole (bloody long) flight, and was about to shout to his driver to hurry up when he had landed. Arthur leaving all politeness back home meant that he hadn't slept properly for days, and that he was too worried. He hoped the poor driver would understand.

"Alfred!?" he called as he locked himself into the other nation's house. "Alfred, are you here!?" he yelled again, as he rushed through the kitchen and dining-room before entering the living room.

The other nation was standing on the other side of the room, looking out of the window. His shoulders slumped and he looked more broken than England had seen him. Though, he suspected he only looked more broken than Alfred had ever allowed him to see him.

"God damnit, England. I told you to stay away", the other nation said with a slightly angry voice, as he kept his back towards the older nation. "You are missing your own marathon as well", he added, a bit more calmly.

"I am not needed there, America. The royal family can actually handle things on their own. We have increased security, and everything is in order," England said. Not approaching Alfred just yet. Trying to give him space. He could see the younger nation's shoulders shaking.

"I was just informed that the London Marathon had a 30 second silence for Boston. And I have been told many of the athletes from the Boston marathon went to London to express that they are not afraid to keep going. That terrorists never win. You have a very brave nation, Alfred!" he told him, moving a bit closer.

"Yes, my people are brave. But... Arthur, I was so scared, you know? Re-living 9/11 and everything. And it hurts so much seeing my people in pain and shock," Alfred said as he turned to look at the older nation. He was still crying. "Everyone has been so brave, but I am terrified. You never cry when this happens, you just go on bravely. I feel so ashamed," he added.

Arthur smiled at him, "heroes cry when people are hurt and die, Alfred. That is what make them heroes. It means that they care, and caring is what makes them save and help others. Also, I cry and I am scared, just like you. I am just older, and.. God, I was so worried about you Alfred!"

He closed the distance between them and gave the taller nation a hug.

"Is it really OK for heroes to cry Arthur?" the other nation asked into his hair, "And to be scared?".

"Of course it is, you git! And you have handled all of the situations very well. Probably much better than I would," England said and they broke the hug, looking at each other.

"We have been kinda bamfy haven't we?" Alfred grinned, regaining some of his usual self.

"Indeed you have. As usual, really," England grinned back. America would be fine, he always was in the end.

"But, Alfred. May I remind you that the Czech Republic and Chechnya are two very different countries," Arthur said sternly, and America started to laugh. "Obs. Yeah, i think I have learnt that this week!"

He gave Arthur another hug, and in the process lifted the smaller nation, which was met by heavy protests, to which America only laughed.

"Thanks for coming England", he said as he put him back down on the ground. "I wasn't sure if you would, and I wasn't sure I wanted you to either. But it is good to support each other isn't it? If anyone ever hurts you, old man, I will kick their asses!" America said completely back to his usual hero self.

"I am not old, and I can take care of myself, thanks," England said grumpily, then he smiled. "Of course I would come, dear chap. You have had one hell of a week, and it scared me half to death".

The End

Cheers for reading. All our thoughts go out to the families out there who are hurt. Britons know what it is like when stuff like that happens, you can sort of see it on the older generation. Love and support is all we have I suppose so let's treasure it. Let all of the world come together to stop evil! Like real American Heroes.

I don't know if Alfred was a bit out of character. But.. frankly, I wanted him to be upset. Any embodiment of a nation would be after such a terrible week! (Possibly appart from Russia. Damn that guy is scary! :P). Also, you all know what Britain feel about gun-control in US, so no nagging me about that point. We just don't want you to bloody get hurt or hurt each other, all right!?

Lots of love