Well, I’m glad it wasn’t France was all you could think when America turned up on your doorstep. America! Your favorite country! You could hardly believe your eyes. You’d always read fanfictions and reader inserts about Hetalia characters coming to life, but you refused to hope it would, since you knew it couldn’t.

It couldn’t, you said.

Yet, here was America, now sitting on your couch chattering awkwardly while you read the letter you had found in your mailbox.


Dear ________,

Due to some…unfortunate circumstances, several of the countries have forgotten who they are, and they only know their human names, in this case, Alfred F. Jones (if he asks, the ‘F’ stands for freedom…stupid git)

Please keep an eye on him for me, since I’m already keeping an eye on Frog-Face and Spain over in my neck of the woods.

DON’T TELL HIM WHO HE IS. He has to figure out who is himself, or things can go horribly wrong.

Thanks, and good luck!

Signed,
England (Arthur Kirkland)

P.S., make sure you have some hamburgers or something on hand. Even microwavable ones will do. Hide all your favorite sweets.


You looked up from the letter to see America, no, Alfred, staring at you impatiently. “So? What’s the letter say?”

“Well. That your name is Alfred F. Jones, and I should keep a stock of hamburgers on hand,” You replied, cutting out the whole amnesia bit.

“I feel like I’m in one of those movies, y’know, where some person drops off their baby on someone’s doorstep with a letter,” Alfred complained, leaning back more comfortably.

“That’s essentially what happened,” You snorted.

Alfred looked up, beaming. “So, does that mean you’ll take care of me? I totally wouldn’t mind that at all! You’re hot!”

You felt yourself flushing and turned away. “Well, I can’t be the evil person who dumps the poor kid at an orphanage. Besides,” You turned back, having recovered from your momentary blush, “I get the feeling you’d come back anyway.”

Alfred’s grin widened. “Of course I would! It’s like love at first sight or something!”

“Or like a baby duck,” You muttered, still in a state of denial. He would have to go back eventually, and he was immortal, so no relationship would ever work out.

“Can we eat stuff soon?” Alfred demanded, jumping up excitedly like a golden retriever. You could almost see a tail wagging rapidly to and fro.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do now,” You replied, heading to the kitchen. “You go find a movie. They’re right under the TV.”

“Alright!” He chirped happily, bounding over to the TV.

You sighed, and suddenly realized that all of your Hetalia DVDs were over there. “Oh, shi-“

Alfred dashed into the kitchen. “Yo, _______! Can we watch this?! I love anime!” He held up Hetalia Axis Powers season one.

Your jaw dropped. Of all the movies there, he had to go and pick the one show about him. If he knew the significance of that, you’d call him egotistic.

“No,” You replied, remembering Arthur’s warning. Did this count as you telling him?

“Aw, please?” He whined, looking up at you with big blue puppy eyes.

Now, who can resist a face like that? Certainly not you. You sighed. Technically, you weren’t the one telling him, right? You relented, leading to a crushing hug from Alfred.

“Yes! I dunno, I really felt like I should watch this!” He exclaimed. “Can we watch a horror movie afterward?”

“Sure, Al,” You grinned. Maybe the horror movie would make him forget Hetalia.

“Dude, you are awesome!” He hugged you again. “Seriously, I should, like, marry you or something!”

“Will you quit it with the love references?” You grumbled, cooking the hamburgers in the microwave like the master chef you are.

“Aw, why?” He looked disappointed. “Don’t you like me too?”

You flushed. “That’s not the point!” You replied. That was the wrong answer. America glomped you again, squeezing you.

“We can be best friends first!” He offered. “After all, we’re gonna be roomies for a while!”

“Oh, yeah! I guess I better set up the guest room for you after this,” You remembered.

“Cool! I’ll set up the movie,” He went back to the living room.

You sighed. That was a close one. He really was acting like a duckling, imprinting on the first person he saw. Still, your heart was pounding. Your favorite Hetalia country said he wanted to marry you?! Seriously?

You heard the oh-so-familiar Hetalia opening, and you brought the hamburgers into the living room, handing one plate to Alfred and sitting down on the floor next to him.

Within seconds, he started exclaiming.

“Whoa, dude! America looks like me! And dude! HE SOUNDS LIKE ME! It’s like this show’s about me, or something!” He said through his hamburger.

“Actually, it’s about Italy.” You corrected him.

“Then why did America show up first?” He demanded, then he noticed England. “Hey, he looks like the limey who brought me here. Whoa, this is creepy!”

You gulped, swallowing down your hamburger to cover it up. “Never seen him, so I can’t say.”

“Dude! We should go look up all the information on this! Maybe it’s some huge conspiracy, and they wiped all my memories because I found out some secret plan!” Alfred started chattering again, nonstop.

You looked thoughtful. Maybe this would be a good way to get him to recover his memories, though in truth, you didn’t really want to. You hadn’t known him long, but it would be uncomfortably quiet and lonely now. After all, you lived alone.

“Sure. My laptop’s over there,” You replied.

Alfred jumped up, totally oblivious to the atmosphere again, and grabbed the laptop, turning it on. “Dude, what’s your password?”

“Uh…America.” You replied sheepishly.

“Oh, sweet! Patriotism for the win!” He exclaimed, grinning at you.

“Exactly,” You couldn’t help grinning back, it was contagious.

“Okay…Hetalia…Hetalia…oh! Heta-archives! Awesome!” You heard him talking to himself as he read them.

“Characters…America…WHOA DUDE HIS NAME’S ALFRED F. JONES TOO?!” America sat back, stunned. “It’s a conspiracy theory, I’m telling you, ______!”

“Right…” You replied slowly. He’s really slow, isn’t he? You thought to yourself with a sigh.

“Hey, ______? Maybe I am America!” He exclaimed.

“Really, Alfred?” You changed your tone to sound vaguely amused and exasperated.

“Yeah! I am totally the United States of Freaking America!” He announced, giving you a thumbs up. “And I’m the hero!”

You were startled as he suddenly blinked, staring at himself. “Whoa, dude, where am I?”

“Um…in my house,” You replied slowly, uncertainly. Had he really forgotten everything already?

“_______! Oh yeah, I forgot I was here! With amnesia cause stupid England-“ He broke off, staring at you. “Whoa. No. Freaking. Way.”

“What?” You demanded, freezing as he grabbed you and kissed you with the love of someone who has known you and loved you for many years. “A-Alfred!” You gasped when he pulled back.

“Dude, did you lose your memory too?” He tipped his head. “You’re ________, AKA, the North!”

Suddenly, all your memories flashed back, including your…oh, God, your marriage to Alfred. You stared at him, stunned. “Oh, god, Alfred, I’m…”

He grinned back, suddenly looking very predatory. “You’re mine,” He finished, pushing you down and kissing you again.











“Hey, ______?” Alfred asked, pulling back.

“What?” You peered up at him curiously.

“You're password's America..." He grinned. "Do you love me that much?"

"Stupid," You scowled, turning away. "What do you think the answer to that is?"

"Well, I love you more than hamburgers." He declared.

You were shocked for a moment, then smiled. "That was the best thing you have ever said to me, I think."