Protect You (England x Male!Reader)

    "[Name]! NO!"

    All [Name] heard were the sounds of rain falling and muted footsteps rushing toward him. As the life bled out of him, he reminisced. His life flashed before his eyes, so to speak, but a few memories stuck out the most.

    *  *  *

    When was it? Ah, yes. 1774. Before it all started.

    [Name] was sitting in a park, watching ducks float across a blue-green pond. It was his break time, and he always came to the quiet park.

    He zoned out until a voice in front of him asked, "Er, excuse me, but may I sit here?"

    [Name] snapped out of his daze and quickly replied, "Yes, of course!"

    The man to whom the voice belonged sat down beside him, and [Name] noticed that he had blond hair, emerald eyes and abnormally large eyebrows. The guy, not looking much older than [Name] himself- who was seventeen- looked very weary.

    "Are you alright, sir?" [Name] questioned.

    "Ah, yes, I'm fine, thank you." he replied with a weak smile. It slowly dropped, and he passed a hand over his eyes. "My little brother and I had a big argument and I came here. I usually come here when I'm upset, I find it quite soothing."

    [Name] smiled warmly. "I do, too. I'm sorry about the fight."

    The man smiled back. "I appreciate your concern. I don't believe I caught your name?"

    "Ah, I'm [Name] [Surname]."

    "A pleasure to meet you, [Name]! I'm Arthur Kirkland."

    "I'm glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kirkland."

    "You can just call me Arthur, if you'd like!" Arthur corrected, smiling gently, an expression that [Name] returned.

    They talked for quite a while, making plans to meet again. Over the next year, the two became very close- close enough for Arthur to tell [Name] one of his greatest secrets.

    "[Name]?" Arthur asked one day, as they were sipping tea in his home.
 
    "Yes, Artie?" [Name] responded teasingly. Arthur bristled at the nickname, but ignored it.

    "I... need to tell you something." [Name]'s face grew serious and he nodded.

    "Okay... first off, you don't think I'm mad, do you?" Arthur questioned worriedly, to which [Name] responded with an indignant,

    "Of course not!"

    "That's good... alright. [Name]," Arthur sucked in a deep breath. "I'm... the personification of the country England, or, broader, Great Britain."

    Now Arthur held his breath, as [Name] processed the information. Wearing a poker face, he slowly replied, "I... believe you."

    Arthur's expression relaxed into one of pure relief. "That's great!"

    "But." [Name] held up a finger. "Will you please explain this to me?"

    "Right! Well, you've met Alfred, yes? He's the personification of America. We're both quite old from your perspective, especially me. I've been around since the birth of this nation, hundreds of years." He paused to study [Name]'s expression. The latter wasn't sure what it held, but he was somehow unsurprised. "Alfred has been fighting with me more lately, and he's gone to America. He... he wants independence, and he's going to fight for it." Arthur's voice gave out on the last line and he buried his face in his hands.

    [Name], taking all of this in quite easily, reached over and wrapped Arthur in a hug. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I'll help you. I'll join the British military."

    At this, Arthur whipped his head up, shocked. "B-but, your dream!"

    "The restaurant?" [Name] frowned. He'd always had a dream of running his own small restaurant in London, the city he was born and raised in. "It can wait until after this war. You're by far more important."

    Arthur squeezed him tightly. "Thank you so much, [Name], but I don't want you to get hurt!"

    "It doesn't matter if I get hurt, if I'm protecting you. I'll always protect you."

    *  *  *

    And so it began, the American Revolution. [Name] wasn't a soldier, though he was trained to be one. He worked other jobs by the battlefield, helping the army. He did this for eight and a half years, until 1783. At that point, [Name] was twenty-eight. He was sent to the front lines in early July.

    Oh... the rain...

    Arthur was fighting alongside [Name], and soon after the fighting began, Arthur spotted Alfred and rushed off.

    After some time- no one counts minutes on the battlefield- Arthur and [Name] were reunited. Most of the British soldiers had fallen- in fact, it was eventually just the two men. A shot sounded, and [Name]'s senses were heightened as adrenaline coursed through his body. He had seen where the barrel of the musket was pointing and raced in front of Arthur as the gun was fired. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as the bullet pierced [Name]'s stomach and he fell to the ground with a thud.

    "[Name]! NO!"

    All [Name] heard were the sounds of rain falling and footsteps rushing toward him. He could feel the life bleeding out of him.

    "[Name]! Please, no!" Arthur dropped to [Name]'s side, shaking fingers hovering over the wound in the stomach of the former.

    "A-Arthur..." [Name] rasped, smiling. He coughed, then turned his head to the side and spat a mouthful of blood onto the soaked earth.

    "No! I didn't want you to get hurt... you idiot... why did you do that?" A tear rolled down Arthur's cheek.

    Smiling weakly, [Name] lifted his arm and wiped away the tear. "I... told you... all those years ago... It doesn't matter... If I get hurt... if I'm protecting you." His body felt heavy, and he knew the end was near. "Arthur... please... live well. I'll miss you... my friend." Still smiling, the light left [Name]'s eyes.

    "[Name]? [Name]?! NO! Please, [Name], don't go! Don't do this to me! Please..." Tears streamed down Arthur's face as he screamed. He sat there for a long moment, the American soldiers watching silently. He'd forgotten they were even there, that Alfred was there. His grief over [Name]'s passing and his sorrow at Alfred's independence mixed together to create a raw, passionate emotion far too powerful to be described. He slowly rose to his feet and turned to face Alfred, face full of pain.

    Alfred gritted his teeth and yelled over the dull roar of the pouring rain, "Britain! All I want... is my freedom!"

   

    *  *  *




    'Another day, another bloody World Meeting.' Arthur thought to himself. 'At least this month it's here in London.'

    It was 2014, over 200 years since he lost Alfred... and [Name]. There was no way Arthur could forget the former. Believe me, he tried. Alfred was a world leader and they saw each other every month, if not more often. [Name], on the other hand... somehow, [Name] couldn't be forgotten, either. And what confused Arthur even more... was that there was more than just the feeling of loss. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was sure it was more.

    Arthur dragged himself out of bed and got ready for the day, before leaving his house and beginning his walk to the World Meeting conference building. On his route was a small café that had opened a few months earlier, and Arthur learned they made delicious tea and scones. He often went there for breakfast, and always on meeting days. The British gentleman entered the café and was greeted by warmth, the smell of baking and a young man who... looked just like... [Name].

    "Hello! Welcome to my café! Have a seat and I'll be right with you! Go ahead and just relax!" he chirped, a big smile adorning his face.

    Arthur, shocked, absently complied, finding his usual table. A few minutes later, the man came over to him.

    "Hi, I'm [Name], what would you like to order?" he questioned in a chipper voice.

    "I-I'd like Earl Gray and blueberry scones, please." Arthur managed, still disbelieving.

    The young man just nodded happily. "I'll be back with it in a few minutes!~" he said before walking off, stopping at another table.

    Arthur was left to his thoughts. That man looked to be a carbon copy of [Name]. How could it have happened? His beloved [Name] was back? Wait- when had he started to think like that?

    Arthur was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the cheerful waiter returning.

    "Here's your food, sir!" he exclaimed.

    Arthur decided to take a big risk. "E-excuse me, but your name doesn't happen to be [Name] [Surname], does it?"

    Now it was the other man's turn to be shocked, but he replied, "Yes, that's me."

    "And... I don't suppose... your favourite colour is [f/c]... and you like to drink [fave drink]... and your dream had always been to open your a café or small restaurant of your own?" Arthur's voice grew stronger as he spoke.

    At first [Name] didn't answer, just staring at Arthur, before saying, "You... how... yes. To all of that."

    "Does the name Arthur Kirkland happen to ring any bells? Or... maybe... the American Revolutionary War?" Arthur almost choked on the last few words.

    [Name] was flabbergasted. "The- the Revolutionary War... ever since I was young, that always meant something to me, but I never knew what... or why. Arthur Kirkland... why does that sound familiar?" Suddenly he looked at Arthur with wide eyes. "You... you have something to do with that, don't you?"

    "I'm so sorry... I should have protected you... but then the situation with Alfred would've gotten much worse..."

    Hearing these whispered words, something in [Name]'s mind- no, soul- clicked, and everything came back to him. He gasped and clutched his head, shaking. Tears streamed down his face as wave after wave of memories assaulted him.

    "A-Arthur... It's you? I-I... I remember..." [Name] stammered.

    Arthur stood up and pulled the shorter male into a warm embrace, rubbing his back soothingly. "Yes, love. It's me."

    [Name] soon pulled back and smiled through his tears. "So, you lost Alfred. Do you see him often?"

    "Far more often than pleasant..." Arthur muttered as a reply. [Name] laughed. "Yes, I see him once a month, if not more often. I have meetings with him and the other countries of the world." Upon hearing these words leave his mouth, he suddenly realized something and went pale. He checked his watch, and yelped at the time displayed on it. "Bloody hell! I'm sorry, [Name], but I'm almost late! Germany will have me for it! I'll stop by later!" Arthur cried, dropping some money on the table and rushing out the door.

    "Arthur! Wait!" [Name] called, but it was too late. He sighed, running a hand through his [h/c] hair and then down the side of his face before beginning to clean up.

    *  *  *

    After the World Meeting was over, Arthur headed back to the café, grumbling about France's behavior during the conference. Germany had yelled at him for being late as the host country, but nothing could truly dampen the Brit's spirits today. He had his [Name] back! As he entered the small building for the second time that day, [Name] ran over and pulled him to a table.

    "Hello, Artie! My shift ended a while back, but I waited around for you!" He seemed very happy once again. "So, is this your first time visiting my café?"

    "Actually, no, I come here quite often. Why haven't I seen you here before?"

    "Ah, since I opened the café, I've had to help my mum move and I had paperwork and such to sort out. My shifts previously started at 11 am, but a few days ago I started regular shifts starting at 7:30." [Name] answered Arthur cheerfully.

    Arthur smiled at seeing [Name] so happy, and he sighed contentedly. "[Name[, you have no idea how much I've missed you. I can't even begin to describe how happy I am to see you again! I seriously thought it would never happen."

    [Name] blushed. "I-I remember everything now, and I was thinking while you were gone, and, er... I think I like you, Arthur!"

    Arthur blushed too, replying, "I-I like you too, [Name]." So that's what that extra feeling was! "And now we're in an age where it can actually work- where we can actually work." He smiled widely.

    [Name] grinned broadly. "It doesn't matter if I get hurt if I'm protecting you!"

    "H-hey! Git! I need to protect you this time! You sacrificed your life for me! B-but, we'll always be there for each other-"

    "And we'll always protect each other."

    "Always."













    End.