[FANFIC] Lucid Memories 10/20

[rain_sonata]

Title: Lucid Memories 
Author/Artist: Rain_Sonata
Character(s) or Pairing(s): America/England/America or US/UK/US
Rating: PG-13, might raise up later
Warnings: boy love, occasional swearing, confusion of what's happening, longer chapters later on, hints of the existence of state-tans
Summary: Rev!America is brought back to the present, replacing the current America. By chance, England was there when all of this happened. Why is he here? What about his broken heart from the Revolutionary War?
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( Link to Previous Chapters )
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Lucid Memories
Chapter 10: Wonder
*Just to make this clear, in this story, nations only use human names with each other if they're in public with humans or if they are close to each other, like family or lovers.
*Older America is US; younger is referred to as America. Both are called Alfred.
Summary: Rev!America is brought back to the present, replacing the current America. By chance, England was there when all of this happened. Why is he here? What about his broken heart from the Revolutionary War? US/UK, based on Kink Meme on Livejournal.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Himaruya does. Not even 4kids can get their hands on it.

*past*

"That scar…" He gazed at the noticeable mark. "It was you." His voice was clearly shaken. "Alfred."
Alfred did not speak.

"Comb your hair." England commanded. He had to see more to believe what he had just witnessed.
US stared at the older man.

"Well?" The Brit waited. "Did you not hear me? Comb that mess!" His wild eyes flared at the American.

"Your hair looks like rubbish." England threw something to the former colony.

Alfred caught the object flung at his direction. It was a comb. It was simple, but practical. The smooth wooden teeth were unusually sharp. Realizing that the older nation would not leave him alone until his demands were to be followed, US did as he was told and begun to fix his hair. England kept his eyes on US the whole time. It took quite awhile the tame the stubborn hairs; they were very determined to stay up. The water and sweat has been acting as a natural hair gel to hold the American's hair up like a porcupine's quills. It took Alfred lots of effort to keep his image from becoming noticed by England. Alfred did not cry out in pain when he pulled his roots were tugged too hard when he ran the comb through knots and split ends. He neatly arranged his hair with great patience, giving himself time to allow himself to finish his task. Eventually, the tangled mess was finally laid flat down into the familiar neat boyish hair that made US so recognizable. The only hair that was left standing was the sole cowlick that US so proudly claimed as Nantucket.

"It was you all along." England bitterly spat out the words when Alfred finally finished the process. He looked at US's greasy hair with disgust. The English nation wore a thin smile. It was a bitter smile.
US gave England a sad look. This time, he did not bother to cover himself up. What was the use? England has seen enough. There were only so many times that the American could slip through. This time, it was different. He had seen too much. Alfred was caught. He was not Johnson. There was never a colony or state named Andrew Johnson. It was a paper thin disguise.

"Why?" England asked himself. "Why?" He cursed. Fuck. That man. The man who called himself Johnson. Johnson did not exist. Johnson was Alfred. He was his former colony. Did he take England for a fool? England couldn't believe that he had been so gullible. So many times had the Englishman accused US of being Alfred. Yet, England believed US when the American told him otherwise. What a fool England was.
"England," US tried to find the right words. "I can explain,"

"Explain what?" England snapped; his bright eyes flickered angrily at the American. "That you enjoyed watching me cry? That you enjoyed watching me suffer because of you?" The empire accused the young man. "After all those times of pretending to like me… You're despicable." His words bit.

"England, please." Alfred began to beg. "Let me explain."

"That's enough, Alfred." England stopped him from proceeding further. "I do not wish to hear more." The empire was sick of being involved with America. Why couldn't Alfred just leave him alone? He won his independence, didn't he? Couldn't the young nation just let the empire have peace? England had enough of seeing him. The England nation started to turn away towards the opposite direction where the two nations were standing.

"England!" Alfred cried out. "Where are you doing?"

England did not turn around to look at Alfred. "I going."

"Going where?" US asked.

"Away." He looked so distant when he said the words. "Away from you." He stressed on the last three words with venom.

"You can't leave!" US tried to block the nation's path with his wide arms. "It's late!"

"America," England's cold eyes were fixed on US's shocked eyes. "Stay out of my sight. You're in the way."

"England?"

"Good evening." The empire walked around the American before he ran off into the woods.

Alfred stared numbly at his former brother who had just run off into the unknown. England? England has left. He hated Alfred. England? The American felt weak in the knees. It was all his fault… Shit. It was all his fault. Why? Why did this have to happen? He was actually in good terms with England too. Until…until the English empire found out who he was. Did the other England felt like that too? Was that the older

England's feelings of Alfred? Were all of those sweet words and compliments lies? Why? Why must US always hurt those around him? Was he, US, just a monster who would always harm those who would dare interfere with him? Was he just a mass of land that was meant to be isolated?

"I'm so sorry, England." US softly cried. His vision blurred when he stared at the sky. He had never felt so lonely or rejected in his life. "I'm so sorry…" The young nation cried himself into sleep as the night flew by. Even in sleep, tears still dripped down the American's cheeks.
England did not look back when he ran into the woods. He could not stand to look back. He did not want to see Alfred. He was afraid that if he were to do so, he might break into tears again. The empire felt cheated. He felt like a fool for believing in the American's lies. England felt embarrassment flood into his mind. He had told Alfred of his feelings. Alfred knew how England regretted the revolution. He knew the English man's attachments and love for the former colony. England had told him too much. It was enough to have anger the older nation.

England's mind briefly flickered to the thought of Alfred's wound. He flinched at the sight of the scar. It was clearly the marking of a bullet. The wound was partially healed, but it was certainly not fully recovered. The empire's guilt plundered. It was all his fault. It was England's fault that the prat was hurt. It was one of the redcoats fault. He did not know who the man was, but the empire was more determined than ever to find the traitor.

The English nation wondered why Alfred bothered to hide his identity. What was the point? What would the former colony gain from that? It didn't seem likely for the American to go by as a spy. If the American was a spy, he would have disguised himself as a British soldier if enemy information was desired. Besides, England saw Alfred when he before he was shot. Alfred did not undergo as a different person back then. That must have meant that Alfred changed his identity shortly after the incident. Could it be that Alfred had pretended to be Johnson the moment the American meant England? But why?

England frowned. America had occupied all of England's thoughts at the moment. It was annoying. It was an emotion between annoyance and regret. He just didn't like to be lied to. It felt like the liar had no faith in England. It made England feel like America had a reason to lie to him. It made him feel like he, England, was the bad guy. The villain. It was the same feeling the Brit had when he received Alfred's pesky Declaration of Independence with all of the young man's demands and complaints. The English gentleman stared at the skies. He wondered if Alfred was looking at the same sky as he was. He drifted into a sleep as his mind continued to involuntarily wonder about Alfred's well-being.
The next day, England wondered around aimlessly in the woods. He had no idea of what to do next. He was initially planning to head to the nearest harbor along with his own men, but he has now left them because of his selfish emotions. The Englishman toyed around with his options as he gazed at the grass. His bright eyes had reserved to a darker tone today. The empire did not know where to go. He did not know which direction to face. He should have headed back to the campsite, but that meant that he would have to face with Alfred again.

"What should I do?" England groaned to himself. So many times have the blond empire asked himself that simple question. "Stupid Alfred," He cried again. "Are you satisfied now?" The empire hollered to the heavens. "Are you happy now that I'm suffering?"

"Seeing you cry does not make me happy." A voice gently nudged England.

England glared at the side. "Alfred?" He quickly jerked away from the American. "What are you doing here? Get away from me!"

"I found you here." US softly replied. "I was looking for you."

"Have I not told you to let me be?" England angrily asked.

"I couldn't leave you alone." Alfred told him. "I couldn't bear to watch you wonder around the woods by yourself." He looked at England with a sad smile.

The Brit didn't smile back.

"I know how much you hate me," Alfred went on. "But I would like you to just listen to my side." He felt England's eyes focus on him. "Please give me a chance!"

US took England's silence and not running away as a yes.

"I know how much you hate me because of the revolution." Alfred tried to explain. "I'm sorry."

"If you know how much I hate you," The empire was still angry. "Then why do you keep asking me questions about the war?"

"I'll tell you why if you allow me to finish my explanation." US patiently said.

US gave a soft sigh. "I realized how much pain I have caused. I only wanted to break away from you because I felt that I had no freedom. I felt that you were too controlling. I never felt that your Parliament had treated me fairly as a citizen of your own. I was more of a tool than an actual part of your people." It was like listening to the man recite the Declaration of Independence all over again, except that the words were abridged and went straight to the point.

England has already heard of these reasons. He waited for more.

"I ask that you forgive me for harming you. I had no intention of hurting you from the start."
When US finished his short speech, England frowned. He could have just asked England to forgive him. No need for formalities. "I have raised you since I have found you as a child." He knew that US have already known this. "I have seen you as a little brother and I have treated you as one as far as I could have remembered. The Revolutionary War has caused more hurt for me than you would have known."
US felt that the English nation was starting to stray away from his point. "Your break from the British Empire has caused me grief and I cannot say that I can entirely forgive you for your fight of independence. However, despite the confusion of why you have lied to me, I will allow myself to listen to your reasons of why you have called yourself Johnson. Until then, I cannot fully forgive you for your acts." (1)

"All right, England." Alfred returned to his normal talking style. He felt that both he and England were being too formal. Why so serious? "I will tell you why I lied, or for all that matter, why I'm here."

US closed his eyes before opening them again. "I was afraid of seeing you."

What? "I beg your pardon?" England didn't see it coming. Alfred was afraid of seeing him?

"I was afraid of being rejected by you." US whispered. "I kept asking you questions about the war, because I wanted to know if you still love me. You must have hated me so much for leaving you like that." He closed his eyes again. "You were always so lonely…"

Alfred's reasons caught the empire off guard. The young man's reasons sounded so childish. So asinine. "I-is that all?" England was clearly surprised.

"That's all?" US echoed. "Stop acting like it's nothing."

"I thought you were just here to laugh at my failure." England looked like he was going to faint. "I thought you were just here to rub it in my face for losing against a colony."

"England," Alfred told him. "It wasn't just me you had to go against." He wrapped his big arms around the older man. "You had to fight against France too."

"That wino-bastard," US heard the Brit curse, although the empire turned pink when he realized that Alfred was hugging him.

"Anyway," US tried to return back to the topic; he quickly released England from his embracement. "I'm sorry for what I have made you gone through. I'm really grateful that you cared for me when I was a child, and I thank you for that."

"Y-your welcome." England looked pleased. "I'm glad I found you." The English nation was blushing again. The American man gave his former brother a small smile.

"But…" England pondered. "You're Alfred. But at the same time, you're not really Alfred are you?" His finger wobbled when he pointed at US.

Alfred blinked. Did England figured it out? How did England know?

"You have the same wound that Alfred had," England continued. "But there were also other scars I have never seen." His finger hovered over US's back, tracing an imaginary line on one of the American's scars that could not be seen through the American's clothes.

"You saw them?" US gave England a wary expression.

"Yes." England said before noting. "Your personalities are also different, you two smell differently too…" England blushed when he realized that he had told US that the American had a different scent.

"England?" Alfred was amazed of the older nation's observations. The Englishman was sharp.

The empire attempted to brush off the last embarrassing comment. "But that aura…" He trailed off. "It's the same. It's linked to magic, but you never believe in it, did you?"

"No, I believe you." Alfred really did believe him. He had spent too much time with present day England to really deny the existence of magic anymore. He had gone through too many experiences with the English gentleman. Like that one time when the Brit turned into a drunk angel, but that was not the point.

"You're right," Alfred said. "I'm not Alfred."

England stared at US as if the younger nation had told the empire that the world was dominated by flying mint bunnies (2).

"I am Alfred." The young nation tried to explain. "But I am a different Alfred."

"I don't quite follow you." The gentleman was confused.

"England," England looked up. US's azure eyes were glued to England's clover eyes. "I am the United States of America. I am from the future."

England frowned at Alfred. "Alfred? Are you alright?" He looked at US for any sign of madness.
"England, I'm fine." Alfred told him.

"Are you sure?" The empire didn't sound like he believed Alfred. "The future?"

"Is that too hard to believe?" US asked. "Do you want me to prove it to you?"

"No, I'll pass." England looked alarmed. "I don't want to know." He was not willing to risk a change in history. "I already saw those scars. I don't need to see more." The American seemed to have acquired many scars. How many years has it been?

Alfred didn't seem to hear the Brit. England still looked unsure. "Mattie will move out, France goes through hell, Russia will start snowing red, and you will become dirtier. (3)" US listed out some of the future events.
"That's enough, Alfred," England didn't want to hear more.

"Are you sure, England?" Alfred asked.

"I'm positive." He ensured the younger man. The Brit was puzzled by what US meant by the empire getting 'dirtier'. The American's description of the future sounded so vague and bloody. "By the sound of your name, it sounds like those prats have decided to unite (4) under you after all." England was referring to the colonies who would eventually become the states.

"Ha," US laughed. "Do you remember them?"

"How can I not?" England asked. "Your girl, Massachusetts has truly got her stubbornness from you." When the Brit looked back into the Boston Tea Party incident, it oddly became almost humorous, probably because he was talking about it with Alfred. The empire remembered how enraged he was when he found the Boston harbor to have been full of tea.

"I suppose so." Alfred smiled like the proud father he was. He quietly added. "Sorry for that." He remembered of his not so little girl dressed up as an Indian when she fearlessly dumped tea into the harbor. Boy, was England pissed when he found out. The other colonies were kind enough to pitch in and donate supplies to the pigheaded girl when England blockaded her.

"I won't think about it right now." England told Alfred when the Brit caught the American's fearful expression. "How are you planning to get back into your time?" He asked Alfred.

"I'm not too sure myself," Alfred admitted. "I was kind of hoping that you would know how to get back in time, since you know about magic and all."

"Alfred," The empire sounded wary. US was not the first person to have ask such a question of time traveling. The American would certainly not be the last one either. "You can't time travel." He tried to explain to the young nation. "Time traveling is a taboo among magic users. It's forbidden. No one has ever survived their attempts of doing so."

"Is that so?" US asked. "Huh. Well, shit." He walked around. "This is going to be tough."

"We should head back." England reminded US. "I'm sure our men are probably wondering where we are."
"Right." US forgot. "Are you coming with me?"

England smiled. "Of course." He looked at Alfred again. "Are you still concern about getting back home?"

US grimaced. "I'll manage. There has to be a reason or way to why or how I got here." He gazed at England. "I'll find a way back. I will."

"Perhaps I can help in some way." The Brit offered his assistance.

"Sure!" Alfred beamed. "All right!" US threw his fist in the air. "Let's go!" He dragged England back to the campsite.

"Let go of me!" England cried. "I can walk on my own!" He was flustered by the American's amazing strength. He could not help but wonder if it was possible for Alfred to return by to the future. Was the American really from the future?
~present~
The room was dark. It was as black as a raven. It was pitch black, not a single object could be outlined in the darkness. The only object seen in the room was a digital alarm clock that was laid on the bedside table. It was one of the clocks that only cost less than ten dollars and could easily be replaced. Green neon light glowed in the dark, eerily radiating the time, 4:59 AM.

3…2…1…

The numbers clicked to 5:00 AM.

BEEP BEEP BEEP
BEEP BEEP BEEP
BEEP BEEP BEEP

The clock continuously sounded off its alarms.

BEEP BEEP BEEP
BEEP BEEP B-

The sound of the machine was abruptly interrupted by a sharp heavy clank. Nuts and wires flew out, scattering onto the hard oak wood floor. There was a light frizzle from the copper wires. The poor clock wheezed out in its last moment of its short life before shutting down completely. Pieces of the fine machinery fell to the ground in a dull thump.

"Ugh…" He softly moaned. His left arm was covering his eyes. He didn't want to wake up. Not now. He was so tired… He just wanted to close his eyes again… He went to bed at two last night… When was the last time the teenager had proper sleep?

New York looked at the side of his bed. Five o'clock already? It felt like he had so little time to rest. The state slowly sat up. His eyes were still weary from last night's work. After sorting out of all of America's papers, Albert had to look at his own papers too. New York had to deal with his state problems too.

Albert felt a slight pain in his fist. The New Yorker looked at his left hand. Red blood oozed out. He glanced at the now broken alarm clock beside him. Its numbers were no longer glowing. Crap.He absentmindedly cursed to himself. The teen seemed more concern about the clock rather than his bloody hand. The New Yorker had destroyed another clock, and this one was not even a month old. Virginia gave it to him too. The state distantly remembered his sister's threat of beating the crap out of him if he were to dare destroy another clock before it was a year old. Oh well, he could always try to fix it, he glared at the machine. Some of the wires looked like they were replaceable. Although Virginia might notice the changes… New York gloomily thought. Since Virginia had lost her status as the most economic state, she has been putting down her anger in Maryland. And New York. Sometimes New York when she got the chance, but mostly Maryland. Mainly because Maryland was like her next door neighbor (If you joke to her that Washington D.C. was the result of Maryland and Virginia, Virginia would kindly beat the crap out of you). Why did his older sister always have to act like she was PSMing? How troublesome…

New York went to the bathroom to wash his injured hand. He lazily watched the blood flow down the drain. Once he was sure that the wound was properly cleaned with alcohol, the state found a packet of bandages to wrap his hand with. For the first time in days, Albert looked at the mirror. His blue eyes blinked at his reflection. He looked like hell. His hair was a mess; it all tangled up in knots. The teen's face was white and pale from days of avoiding the sunlight. With haste, the New Yorker combed his wavy hair with struggle. Albert was glad that Alfred was not there to see the horrid condition the state was in. He hoped that his physical changes wouldn't stay permanent.

Time to go back to those papers, New York dully thought.

He had done a little bit of research in his spare time, but much to his disappointment, the state's lack of knowledge in magic has taken him nowhere. He was not England, the nation who had lived in eras that believed in magic, and has had centuries to perfect his skills. Albert was frustrated. Many of the books and websites on magic were labeled as fiction. Those that were not were very vague on their subjects and were incomprehensible. None of them had absolute resources. Time traveling was not even supposed to be possible, according to some resources. Others have just left the subject alone while others pretended that it was possible, only to have a requirements that seemed illogical and impossible, like a koi's hind leg or a rooster's wisdom teeth.

New York went to his desk to file his papers that were to be turned in later that week. The tempered glass top of the furniture had an ellipse shape and had stainless steel legs to support its weight. The green swivel chair was slid beside the window, as if the inhabitant of said room was too tired to bother pushing in the chair before going to sleep. Besides a desk lamp and a few random scraps of paper lied a laptop. Its screen was dimly radiating blue, as it was in hibernating.

Albert grabbed the chair to sit in. Pieces of paper flew from the big stack of paper that was waiting for him to respond to. The state grumbled at the mess as he began to arrange his lamp into the right side of the desk. He took a Kleenex tissue to wipe some grease off the lid of his laptop. His trash bin needed to be emptied, he needed to restock his refrigerator, his clothes were still waiting to be folded and he needed to get his suit from the washer before another meeting with his boss.

New York was irritated of how messy his apartment was at the moment. He was normally the organized one, but recent events had given him less time to fuss over the order of his lovely home. It has been days since the New Yorker has had the chance to take a shower without interruptions of a phone call or of an emergency call of some kind. A disorganized life equals an extremely irritated New York.

The paperwork was always asking the same thing. How much should we spend on sewage? How much are we to pay this month for taxes? Should there be gay rights? Should the government have more power than the people? The questions seemed endless. All were debatable. None of them ceased to be settled down with one answer.

Next to New York's stack of papers where America's papers, which were even bigger and longer than Albert's. Most of them were related to money, like how much money has Alfred spent on Mickey D's this month, how much he had to pay for the electricity, etc. However, one paper caught Albert's eyes. Unlike the other documents, the paper was thin. Very few words were printed on it. The teenager rubbed his temples.
Albert stated at the paper. "What is this?" He slipped his glasses on to take a closer look. It was a receipt. The date of the receipt was from nearly two months ago. Albert mindlessly began to shuffle his paperwork into a neat stack. His eyelids rapidly flickered at the words stretched across the paper.

At the bottom of the paper was someone's messy writing. It was sloppy and hard to read, but the message was loud and clear:

Make sure you take these once a day.

It wasn't a receipt.

It was a prescription.
Author's Notes:
(1) - I can't believe that I had both England and US talk so much in one breath. It feels like they didn't get to their point until the last few sentences, didn't they? So formal. If I gave you an eyesore for that, apologies for you.

(2) - Flying mint bunny. Pff~ I just had to dump that in.

(3) - Canada gains his own constitution in 1867; he officially becomes a nation in the 1982.
After assisting America in the revolution, France goes through a revolution of his own that lead to many wars and deaths. A terrible time to be living in France.
Russia becomes a communist country after WWI, after a very violent revolution of killing the royal Tsar/Czar and his family along with many other citizens. Russia's revolution was perhaps the bloodiest revolution in European history.

England begins to become more dependent on machinery during the Industrial Revolution, even before the American Revolution started. The increasing use of machinery led to England gaining higher levels of pollution, corrupting many cities with filth and crime. Alfred's wording has a double meaning, as this may also refer to England spreading his influence throughout the globe during the Imperialism Era, committing many crimes and violent deeds to gain his goals and desires of global domination.

(4) - The colonies were not necessarily united from the start. Each state had its own rules, way of governing, money system, etc. The desire to break away from England was perhaps the only reason why they united. Even after the war, there were constant fights over how much power the central government could have over the states, how the money system should work, and many other numerous factors in governing the United States. It was truly chaotic.
Notes: Lots of things happen again in this chapter. So, England finds out who US is and New York finds a prescription! What could it be? I thought this chapter was pretty good. I have been getting impatient and I have been waiting to type this part of the story for such a long time. Now both of the Englands from the past and present know who the Americas are. Things are going to definitely get more interesting from this turning point. I'm just going to sit at my computer and watch you guys impatiently wait and try and predict what will happen next, because that's how I roll. I love watching you guys get tense for the story. Man, I'm so sadistic sometimes.
Tell me how you felt and how you reacted when you read this chapter. Please? I like to see your thoughts of what I have written. It gets a bit sad when I see so many clicks on the story, but so little reviews. Surely England's discovery of who Alfred is will spark some reviews, right?