No Promises -Hetalia, Revolutionary War-

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"Aim!"

Only America knew.

Only America knew that I was truly a girl, a young girl who had run from home to join the war against England. 

Now that I mention it, it was foolish of me, to fun off with a board under my shirt, claim to be a man and sign into war.

Yet here I was now, a simple farm girl, now a commander and cheif, staring down England himself-America standing to my left.

"What happened!?" He shouted. "You were so great once!" There was pain in America's voice. 

"This is your fault!" England shouted back. "I didn't change, you did!" "You wanted me to change, that's why I left!" There was still silence as rain began to pour. England muttered something under his breath, and his men behind him raised their weapons, bayonets shining from the rain. 

Neither of them wanted to fight, I could tell. No one did, any true person wanted peace. It wasn't possible. Not with England. We sent petitions and letters before war. He had denied them all. We had no choice. England had become a tryant.

I stood a short distance behind America, everyone listening to the sibling's dispute. 

Then it happened.

One of England's men, I'll never know who, fired, aiming at me. Everyone had failed to notice where the shot was directed-everyone but America.

He moved himself infront of me, and a sound could be heard-a sound of pain.

He fell, limp.

"America!"

Everything froze, no one dared to breath. 

"America!"

I ran over to him, throwing my gun on my back, strap hanging low. "America!"

He was on the ground, face down.

I turned him over. He was dirty and bleeding. He had been shot in the top left of his chest.

"D-Dummy.. you're just playing, right?" His eyes were closed. I pushed hair out of his face. "A-America.. you're just playing, right?" Tears welled in my eyes. America wasn't just a leader, he was a freind. I took of my overcoat and layed it on him, attemping to stop the blood. He was breathing heavily. "A-America.." I layed on him, eyes spilling tears. "Why..?" 

"I--I'm the Hero, right? That shot would've killed you." He coughed dryly, then fell silent. 

"America!?" Nothing. I held his face. "C-come on, stop messing around." I tried to smile. "America.. please." Still, no response. 

"--America!" Tears spilled, and I slapped him. Nothing.

"Dummy!"

*

"C-Come on!"

*

"Please!"

*

"America!"

*

"Alfred F. Jones!"

*

"..America."

*

"Please.."

I desperatly held his face. Everything was still.

"P--Please, America! Don't die on me!" I hugged him, weeping into his shoulder.

He put him hand on my head. "I'd rather die than have you dead." He ran his fingers through my hair. "N-No!' I held him tighter. "I-I'll kill myself! Don't, please!" My eyes had run dry. "I know you wouldn't. You left to fight, afterall, didn't you?" I shook. "D-Don't die.."

"Sorry"

He fell truly still. 

"No."

"No!"

Someone tried to pick me up, away from him.

"No!"

I wept like a little child. I couldn't hold anything in.

"He deserved a better death. Not from a misfire. N-Not from protecting me."

Memories returned.

First of my father. Killed by English troops in what was advertised as 'The Boston massacre."

My mother, forced to give up everything the had for the Brits.

My siblings, both dying of starvation.|

Then America.

My first time seeing him, oh, how I had looked up to him. He was strong and brave, made to lead.

Then my first battle, him leading us to another victory.

Our time at Valley Forge, where I had almost died twice.

When he had found me out-discovered I was a woman.

Our friendship blossoming.

All taken. It was all gone, and thrown away.

"Not by some stupid Brit.."

I stood up, shaking. Unarmed, I marched up to Britian. 

"You.." I spoke coldy. He stood, staring at me, surprised. 

"You've taken everything from me!"

I punched him in the face, knocking him over.

Shots fired.

--------------------------------------

"H-How is he!?" I had been standing outside the nursing tent for hours now. The man just shook his head no. I ran in.

He was patched up, but breathing hard. 

"America.." I got ont my knees, meeting him a bit lower than eye level. He, laying down, tried to sit up. He soon after failed. I wasn't exactly sure what to say. 

"C-Can you promise you'll be alright..?" My eyes were again tearful. He weakly smiled. "No promises."

I explained to him what happened after he passed out. 

"Wait-so you punched him in the face?" I sheepishly nodded. "Hah!" He smiled, a real smile. The one I woke up to see. 

I sat with him for a half hour or so in silence. I wouldn't leave, I refused, but I didn't know why I should stay.

"Hey.." America took my hand, holding it in the tight grasp of his two hands. "I'm your hero, right?" I looked at him, my face now hot and most likely a red. His as well was shaded pink in places. "Of course. You're my Hero, you always have been and you always will be." I smiled, and placed my free hand ontop of his. "G-Good, because I'll always be there to save you." He was now blushing to an extreme. "Just don't go getting yourself killed for me." He squeezed my hands, and gave me a sarcastic grin.

"No promises."

THIS MEANS NO OFFENSE TO BRITISH PEOPLE-IT IS WRITTEN IN THE VIEW OF A PATRIOT/AMERICAN AGAINST ENGLAND. PLEASE, DO NOT BE OFFENDED.

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⏰ Last updated: May 30, 2014 ⏰

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