Hello, Bluemist here. I do not own Hetalia. This story is a modernized version of The Angel, a fairytale. Human characters, which means human names are used.

Alfred Jones was a six year old boy with messy blond hair and bright eyes. He always smiled and was forever cheerful. After they found out about the disease, the only thing that changed was his hair.

He is still cheerful at the hospital, and has a close friendship with his assistant, Arthur Kirkland. Arthur always took great care of the boy though his parents could not, and even cried when he heard the news. Alfred was going to die soon; there was nothing that they could do.

"Alfred, if you could go anywhere, where would you go?" Arthur asked the boy.

Alfred, unaware of the state of his health, smiled widely. "I would go to a field and pick flowers to cheer up the other patients!" he exclaimed.

"We could go and gather some flowers, if you want. The hospital's garden has great effort taken to bring the most withered plant back; any flowers placed there will flourish." said Arthur. Alfred, too exhausted to walk, allowed Arthur to strap him into a wheelchair.

"Let's go, before it gets dark!" Alfred says cheerfully. Arthur's eyes water a bit as he nods, pushing the wheelchair to the car.

"Where are we going?" The curious boy asks.

"To an old park. It's overgrown, and has a lot of wild flowers. "Arthur responded. The six-year-old smiled, imagining the field.

"It must be real pretty there. Do you like it?" he asked. Arthur nodded as he pulled into a parking space near the old park. He got out and assisted Alfred, then wheeled him in through the arched gates. The abandoned park was beautiful, in a messy yet entrancing way. Untrimmed rose bushes battled for space, climbing over each other in a tangle of green and red. Yellow shined out from any open spaces, and an ocean of pinks, purples, and blues grew up around the arches.

"Go ahead. Pick any flowers that you'd like." Arthur said to the excited boy as he unstrapped him. Alfred smiled, and then looked closer at the flowers growing. His gaze settled on a shrub, mostly concealed from sight by the roses. It was dying due to lack of sunlight.

"Artie, can we save that one? It will grow real strong in the garden!" Alfred asked, pointing to the plant in question.

"Yes, of course." Arthur said. He carefully dug up the shrub, his eyes flashing with recognition as he unearthed it. It's interesting that he chose this oneā€¦.

"Do you want any other flowers, Alfred?"

"Yeah! Can we get these pretty blue ones?"

"Of course."

When they got back to the hospital, Alfred was asleep. Arthur carefully brought the boy to his room, and then went down to plant the flowers and the shrub that they collected. He knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep- he just couldn't, not with Alfred being as weak as he currently was. Instead, he went back up to Alfred's room, quietly sitting in a chair. It was about an hour later when the sickly boy woke up.

"Arthur? Will you tell me a story?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Of course, Alfred."

"Once there was a little homeless boy. He lived in a beautiful park, full of flowers, just like the one we were at today. A family was gardening in their yard, and discarded a young shrub. The boy took the shrub and planted it in the park. The shrub lived for a long time, even after the boy left."

Alfred was unable to stop from interrupting, "Why'd he leave?"

"He left because he wanted to do something with his life. He got a job, and a house, and soon met a boy in a hospital." Arthur said, looking with a small smile at Alfred.

"You were the homeless boy, weren't you?"

"Yes. Thank you, Alfred." Arthur said, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. The boy he was talking to is going to die and he can't do anything about it.

"I saved your shrub?" The oblivious six year-old asked happily. Arthur nodded, watching as Alfred yawned and flopped back into the blankets.

Alfred went back to sleep. He never got to see the shrub grow strong.