He is America (Hetalia fanfic)

Chapter One: Guard Dogs

Beep... Beep... Beep...

The heart monitor was the only sound they heard. The three other members of the FACE family: listening intently, sitting agitatedly, waiting patiently. It was not only a few hours ago when they saw him. He was so damn happy to have been hosting the other nations. He was so loud in expressing it too. God, what is this? The silence was like poison to the three nations, especially when he was right next to them. The other nations were stuck in Manhattan, while these three were brought with Alfred to a hospital in the rural countryside of Pennsylvania.

Arthur was sitting on the window frame, looking out into the distant sky. It reminded him of America's eyes. America's innocent, star-filled, bright eyes. Eyes that embodied wonder, freedom, and kindness. England had since been cleaned up, the medics brushing the white soot from his hair and wrapping his few scrapes. He then looked at Francis worriedly. He saw the look of guilt in his eyes. He saw the pain in France's face as more tears pricked his stubborn emerald orbs.

Francis' baby blues looked at America, puffy and red. They were tired eyes and suffered through major strain. A few bruises littered Francis' face and arms, and tear stains were so apparent on his puffy cheeks. He still would let them flow every so often, blurring his vision. Francis quickly wiped them away and kept an eye on America. It was the fact America went out of his sight that this happened. Had Francis seen Alfred, his selfless and caring Alfred, running toward the smoke... He could have stopped this...

Matthew just rested his head by Alfred's chest, passed out from crying so much. He had a black eye and some scrapes on his arms that had been treated. He had been crying so much it could flood the Great Lakes. His brother, his precious baby brother, was in a coma. After he was attacked and went to risk his life for his people. Why couldn't his brother be selfish every once in a while? Why does he have to help? Why couldn't Alfred just get to safety? Mattie hadn't stopped crying since the attack happened. His exhaustion got the better of him after he sat down by Alfred. He could sleep now, knowing his brother was just a hug away.

The day seemed so... Normal... How could this happen?

America's bright as the sun Hollywood smile was ever present as he and some of the nations were exploring the city. Mattie following close behind him, less like a shadow and more of an overprotective guardian. Francis hanging on Arthur, who was pleasantly scowling as they dragged along. Ludwig keeping an eagle eye on Feli and Lovino, as Antonio flirted with his little tomato. Gilbert and Mathias were not far behind, admiring their friend's gorgeous city. Tino and Berwald were holding hands, also loving the different styles of American culture. Yao and Ivan were talking, paying little attention to the busy surroundings. Kiku was shyly staring at Alfred, listening to every word that flew off his tongue.

The sun was shining and not a single cloud was in the sky that beautiful, brisk morning. Everyone was enjoying their time, much to Ivan's dismay. They all really did wonder how America did it. Yao was especially curious about how the young nation could have acquired the power he wielded. Nobody really hated America, how could they? Sure he had little spurts here and there of his obnoxious attitude, but he was still so young. Too young for this.

Many nations viewed him as a brother or son, as America's land was a mixture of all of them. The older nations: China, Finland, Sweden, France, and England were extremely territorial of the young nation. In secret, they fought over who were his parents. Even though China didn't have a case in that situation, he grew increasingly protective of Alfred. He can't even count how many times he's hit creepy strangers with his wok after they flirted with him. Finland was much the same, always carrying a pistol with him. Finland and Sweden had been known to square up against anyone who hurt their little boys: Peter and Alfred. Ask Cuba what happened when he socked America as a cheap shot and was instantly met with an angry Finland. The color from his face will drain faster than a cheetah.