"The past is dead; let it bury its dead, its hopes and its aspirations; before you lies the future-a future full of golden promise."

- Jefferson Davis

It was the dead of the Civil War, 1864. All was going as it normally did. Each side was preparing for the upcoming battles. Both sides shared a common goal, to win. Wasn't that everyone's goal? To win the awful war that nearly split the once united country apart.

That wasn't actually the want of a certain British man. This man did not want either side to win. He could hardly see his precious country he raised be torn apart. This was heart breaking to Arthur Kirkland, otherwise known as the United Kingdom Of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, or England for short.

This certain man was currently in the United States capital for a certain purpose. Arthur was informed that a man in the United States was going through a through a tough time. The man that the Briton was there to see was the personification of the very country going through a civil war at that time, the United States of America, otherwise known as Alfred or America.

Arthur had received the news that the man was hating on himself. The American man was literally tearing himself apart, well.. His people were tearing him and the country apart. Alfred had no clue on what he was going to do. He couldn't just choose a side. They were all his beloved people and citizens. The young nation didn't want either side to kill his people. He just wanted all of this to be over and done with.

Arthur arrived on the younger nation's doorstep and he knocked on it calling for the person that resided inside. "Alfred? Are you home?" The Briton had to assume the American was home.

After around a minute of silence, he heard a familiar voice. "Yeah, come in." The Englishman took the liberty of letting himself in. Being the gentleman he was, he slipped off his shoes and hung his coat on the rack beside the door. Leaning his walking cane against the wall, he stepped into the main room. It was empty.

"Alfred? Where are you?" Arthur asked so that he could be heard from multiple rooms.

The man was answered with "I'm in the bedroom." The Brit quickly walked to the said room and looked inside. He could see a usually cheery American curled up on his side. Alfred's head was resting on a pillow and his body resided under the blankets. With swollen red eyes he gave Arthur a smile to try to hide his true feelings. "Hey, man. I was wondering if you were going to come."

The older man quickly walked over to the younger man and sat on the mattress beside him. "Once I heard about your predicament I decided to come as soon as I could." The Briton paused and quickly added. "It's not for you, though. It is strictly for work purposes."

Alfred laughed. It seemed like it had been forever since he had felt the joy of laughing. "Sure it is, Artie. And I'm the happiest man in the world." He said with a voice dripping in what was obviously sarcasm. "Thanks for coming, though. I owe it to you."

Arthur crossed his arms and showed something that resembled a pout. "Yeah, yeah. It was no problem, git.." He muttered under his breath.

"I heard that." Alfred teased playfully. The man was just so happy that he had company. As of late he started talking to himself. It made him wonder how long he had been alone with his thoughts. "Anyway, I'm glad you are here. I've been needing someone to talk to.." He trailed off. There was something that the man was wanting to hide from the Briton in the room.

"What is on your mind, boy?" Arthur spoke softly as one would to an injured animal. That was almost what Alfred was. He was an emotionally injured person that needed to let all of his emotions out.

Alfred hesitated. There were so many things he didn't want to tell Arthur. How was he supposed to tell him anything? He wanted to hide so many things from the other man that was in the room. He needed to file though his thoughts. What was he going to explain and what was he going to hide?

A sudden sentence cut Alfred's train of thought. "Tell me everything. I don't want you to keep your emotions and thoughts bottled up. You know you can trust me with anything, Alfred." Arthur's voice was almost not there. It was as if it was painful to even say those words.

"Alright." Alfred let out a crumbling sigh. Arthur saw right through him and his thoughts. "Well.. I just hate myself." He started softly. This was hard on both members and they needed to take it nice and slowly. "I blame myself for letting this happen. I am supposed to be the hero! I can't be the hero if I am just sitting here on the sidelines. I can't go out there and fight my own people!" He started to cry. This was getting more and more painful for the younger nation.

Arthur sensed this pain and gently hugged the breaking man and whispered sweet nothings. It was an attempt of making the other feel better, safer. "Just let it out. It'll feel much better when it is all out of your system."

In an attempt to compose himself, he tried to sit up only to be held closer to the Brit. "Well.. I just want this entire thing to end. It is literally ripping me apart.. I don't want to see my own people fight amongst themselves! I am going to disappear if this continues for any longer!" He was nearly hysterical. This was not the Alfred that everyone knew. This person was a pleading man begging for help that was not available.

"I would never let that happen." Arthur said. He cared for the younger man. Even though he hated to admit it. The Briton would not allow himself to just sit and watch his beloved ex-brother disappear. Arthur would die mentally since he couldn't die physically. "Please.. Just remember that this isn't your fault. I promise that it will be over soon and that you won't have to put up with this any longer. You are strong, Alfred. Don't ever forget that." The Englishman spoke these words with true feeling. They came straight from the heart.

Alfred looked up at the older nation and he hugged him tightly. "Thank you.." He said in the folds of the other's vest. "Thank you so much, Arthur.." Alfred stayed there with Arthur. He was clinging to the Brit like a lifeline. The American stayed like that until nightfall. That's when he drifted to sleep listening to Arthur speak sweet little things to him. He felt safe in the Englishman's arms, just like the old days.

Alfred thought one thing all while he was still awake. If Arthur is here with me the entire time, everything will be ok. I will survive.

Thank you for reading this fluffy one-shot! I actually finished writing this at 5:43 AM. XD My friend and I gave each other prompts for our OTP and she gave me "During the Civil War, Alfred loathed himself and Arthur comforted him." I think I went along with the prompt. :'D

I think I like how this turned out. I'm not sure. I'll just end this here.


Until next story!~