Oneshot 17




This is for TakishimaHisako

I will do both your request, this one will be the amnesia!America au

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It was a stormy evening when the accident had occurred. Alfred was driving home while his crying was blurring his vision, making riverbanks of his chubby cheeks with his salty tears. The meeting had been in New York City, and it was horrific. Everybody seemed to be in an incredibly bad mood. All the nations, even Spain and Finland, had scowls upon their faces. When America went to do his presentation, which he actually prepared this time, he was instantly berated with insults and shouts. Even though his presentation was virtually flawless, the bitter nations just all yelled profanities and hurtful words at the young superpower. America laughed them all of and questioned their bad moods, to which Italy replied.

"Ve~ This is stupid! I would rather be making pasta than be here listening to you!" it shocked America that sweet, little Italy had been so harsh. His blood ran cold as more nations started to blurt out their reasons. All of them began to overwhelm America quickly, until England stood up.

"You bloody twat! All you ever do is make jokes and lounge around like the lazy arse you are! This whole meeting is a waste of time, just like you! Everybody has better and more productive things they would rather be doing than listen to your obnoxious ideas! Why do you even bother?! Everything you are is just a mess! You're a living hazard! A stupid mistake!"

That one stung Alfred right in the heart. However, he kept a smile on his face and played off every single painful lash to his fragile heart. He stayed the entire meeting, which at that point had just turned into an insult session that targetted America until Germany dismissed the meeting at 5 PM.

The rain was pouring roughly down onto the Earth below, making the road very dangerous. America was too blinded by his own tears to notice he was going over 100 MPH on the slippery highway, which was sparingly vacant. America came around a bend a little too fast, and his world turned black from there. His last thought was his big brother, his mentor, his hero calling him a stupid mistake.

The meeting the next day was about to start and everybody found themselves in better spirits. It was amazing what a good night's sleep and a hot meal could do. Every nation was there except one: America.

"I'm worried aboot him," Canada gently voiced. France nodded in agreement.

"Oui, I am as well. We were really 'arsh on 'im yesterday. We all lost our temper and I zink America was actually 'urt by ze words we said," France began to turn off his phone when an amber alert popped up. His blue eyes widened in horror when he read it.

(This will all be BS btw)

Reported missing as of 7:32 PM on April 4, 2020. Brutal Car crash victim. Name: unknown. Gender: supposedly male according to witnesses. Age between 19 or 20. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Owned a red Ford F-150.

France felt his stomach drop as more nations got the notification. Many felt the same knot in their chests, some even began to panic. England was one of them.

"No, no, no! He can't be missing!" Arthur screeched as he busted out of the meeting hall. He ran right to his car and started it. France and Canada quickly followed him and knocked on the window.

"Arthur! Hold on!" Matthew pleaded, but Arthur booked it and sped off towards the supposed crash site. When he got there he saw what he feared, it was Alfred's car. Arthur could tell by the truck bed, which had a sticker that said 'Proud to be an American' on the back. It also had a few dents, curtsy of his own faulty driving skills while in America. Arthur ran towards it when a few police officers got in his way.

"Move it, you wankers! That's my little brother's car! Move, please!" Arthur thrashed his arms until he was brought back into someone else's embrace. He turned his head to yell, but then saw it was a scared and teary-eyed Francis. Matthew hugged Arthur from his other side. Soon enough the entire G8 plus Spain, Romano, China, and Prussia were there. The entire bunch was waiting to hear what was going to happen. After an hour of waiting, an officer walked up to them with a solemn look on his face.

"Even if he was a nation, he wouldn't have survived this. The witness testimonies said that he barely limped away before falling over the barrier and into the river. I'm sorry. Your friend is most likely dead, if not from blood loss than from drowning. Please, accept my condolences,"

The nations felt every bit of them shatter and the three other members of FACE collapsed to their knees, crying. Arthur felt his entire universe collapse around him.

"I never got to tell him... There was so much left unsaid... I never got to apologize... I never got to hug him and tell him I love him... He can't be gone... He just can't..." Arthur whimpered pitifully into France's suit.

SIX YEARS LATER

England laid on the king sized bed, curled up in the fetal position with a blanket giving him false warmth. He sniffed the American flag comforter as he swallowed his unsprung tears. He was at his house, he had been locked in there for a week. He just laid around, drank tea, read some books, ate takeout or whatever his chef made, and slept.

Every year around this time, he gets like this. The entire week of Alfred's anniversary was spent wallowing and crying. Now, he was in Alfred's room. Whenever Alfred came to visit him he slept here. He slept in that very comforter and his scent was all over it. Arthur normally would never have dared to undo the bed. He never touched anything in Alfred's room.

He didn't touch the posters on the walls.
He didn't touch the lamps on the bedside tables.
He didn't touch the figures on his wardrobe.
He didn't touch Alfred's acoustic guitar that was in a stand in the corner.
He didn't touched Alfred's desk.
But most of all, he would NEVER touch Alfred's warm bed.

But Arthur was just so broken at that point, he needed to do more than just sniff the air to smell his little brother. He cuddled deeply into the patriotic blanket and let his little brothers aroma engulf him. He finally began to cry as he whimpered Alfred's name over and over, quickly falling asleep.

The guilt had been eating the nations alive for years. They all had been informed of how the crash occurred. Alfred has been speeding on a slippery road. He began to hydroplane after coming around the bend and his truck flipped over. Alfred's car had a dashcam, which is how they found out.

Alfred had been crying his eyes out and didn't notice his speed. He was crying because of them, they caused those tears. So, many nations had equated the crash to be their fault: Germany, Italy, China, France, Canada, Prussia, Denmark, Finland, Sweden, Japan, Romano, Spain, and especially England. When they had watched the dashcam footage, England ran out of the room in tears. Once he was sure no one was around he fell to his knees in sobs and began to punch the floor.

On this day every year, every nation gets together in America in one of America's favorite cities. The first time was New York City, the second it was DC, the third it was San Francisco, the fourth it was Dallas, and now they were all in Honolulu. France managed to drag England out of the house with a suitcase after he bathed and ate some good food. All of them were hanging out by the beach doing different activities: volleyball, surfing, swimming, sunbathing, reading, collecting shells, fishing, basically anything they could do.

Jett was surfing a particularly huge wave when another surfer passed him. Jett laughed as the two competed, the Australian only being able to see the back of the other. Jett was about to knock the other playfully off the board, but then he saw his face. He saw those cute freckles, that stubborn cowlick, a familiar bright smile, and HIS glittering sapphire eyes. Jett fell off his board in shock, allowing the "stranger" to win. Once he resurfaced, the other surfer swam up to him.

"You good bro?" Alfred asked. Just as Jett was going to answer another surfer dude showed up.

"Misake! Way to stuff that Lolo!" an extremely tan native exclaimed.

"Mahalo, Nana!" Alfred smiled. Jett was confused and looked at Alfred up and down. Was he mistaken? Alfred then looked down at Jett with those eyes. No, Jett knew this was Alfred. But he couldn't just simply say it, they'd think he was an insane tourist. No, Jett had a different plan.

"Oi Mate! Your surfing is ace! Ain't never met another who matched my skill! I'm Jett!" Australia climbed onto his board and shook Alfred's hand.

"I'm Misake, this is Nana. We're surf instructors for the resort," Alfred smiled.

"You here with anybody?" Nana asked, also smiling and shaking Jett's hand.

"Well sorta... My coworkers go on an annual trip since one of our mates went missing... He was American so we go his favorite places each year... You actually look a lot like him, Misake!" Jett nonchalantly pointed out. He grabbed his phone from his waterproof phone protector and scrolled down his photos. He showed them a picture of a paler Alfred, both of them shocked.

"Jett... Is he dead?" Alfred asked.

"The police say he is, but I don't. I never will. He was my brother, I'd rather jump into a pit of Gumpy Gumpy than believe he's gone," Jett sniffed his tears away. Alfred's face seemed to twitch and suddenly Nana screamed.

"Misake! That is you! Look at the scar on his pec! It's just like yours!" Nana pointed it out. Alfred smiled softly.

"So you can tell me about myself?" Alfred asked, Jett nodding. He won him over, "Nana! I can learn about myself!" Alfred's eyes sparkled. Nana chuckled at the younger's enthusiasm.

"Go to them then! You have my number! We can keep in touch! I'll tell boss what happened! He'll be happy you found your family again!" Nana hugged him and went off. Jett gently grabbed Alfred's hand and pulled him into a hug. The two looked to the horizon to see the sunset.

"We are all having a luau and staying the night before heading to our homes tomorrow. Come tonight! They'll be so happy to see ya mate!" Alfred nodded at Jett. The two swam to shore and headed to their respected residences to get ready. Alfred smiled as he washed his body and hair and got dressed in his nicest party garbs.

He met up with Jett at the bridge by the resort. He was dressed pretty nice as well.

"Ready, mate?" Jett asked.

"As I'll ever be..." Alfred gulped. Jett smiled and walked behind the party on a dimly lit path. The two got to the stage and Alfred began to panic.

"I'll announce that I have a surprise, then you'll come right on the stage by my side. Got it?" Jett stuck up his thumbs and winked. Alfred copied the hand movement and nodded nervously. Jett got on stage, effectively grabbing everyone attention, "how's the party goin mates?! It's a nice night isn't it? Look at all them stars up there! We all know what today is and we all still hurt. So, I have a surprise for you all!" Alfred jumped onto the stage and stood right beside Jett. Everyone was silent for a moment, making Alfred shift uncomfortably.

"Uh, you dudes ok?" Alfred asked sweetly. As soon as they heard his voice many nations charged the stage. Canada tackled him to the ground with tears in his eyes. Germany and Prussia also hugged him. But at least they weren't like France and Finland, who nearly crushed him. Everybody was surrounding America, asking a lot of questions. One that caught Alfred's ear was,

"How could you be gone so long, America?" Someone called him America. That confused Alfred more so he finally stood up.

"I'm really sorry but I don't remember most of you. For the past six years I was named Misake and I was a surf instructor. Now, I'm Alfred and America? I guess it's a lot,"

"Misake?" Many questioned. Alfred nodded.

"When trying to find out my identity, a person told me to write down things I remember. I only remembered someone calling me 'Mistake' but they said I probably misheard and named me Misake instead," the entire crowd silenced. England slowly made his way to the front, collapsing to his knees and embracing Alfred.

"I called you a mistake, Alfred. But I never meant it. I was so scared I would never get to apologize to you. That I would never be able to say just how much I love you. You're my precious little brother, dammit," England was crying into America's shoulder. As soon as Alfred hugged him, he remembered it all. The accident, the meeting, the tears. Like lightning, all his memories flooded back. Alfred smiled softly and clutched England closer.

"I forgive you, Iggy," England whimpered harder and clutched America impossibly closer.

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