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Hetalia x Reader: Bring Her Back 22 [FINAL]

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Title: Hetalia x Reader: Bring Her Back
Author: threepinkdoors

AN: Sorry for the late update, guys! Lot's of stuff in the background combined with laziness and video games is killing me |D I bring you, the final installment of the BHB series! :D I hope I haven't disappointed you guys and I hope this ending is to your expectations c:

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You woke up with a start.

It was an odd feeling. You didn't even remember falling asleep. You shook your head and rolled out of bed. Your bunkmates were all still sleeping. 'Great,' you thought. 'I woke up earlier than I was supposed to.' With nothing better to do, you started getting dressed for the morning activities.

As the day progressed. you realized something was not quite right. Where were the countries? Russia? Was America alright? By the looks of your teammates, America was still alive. Everything was going smoothly, as if the previous week's events had never happened.

"Someone please tell me what this insignia means," the instructor groaned from the front of the class. "I want to get the hell out of here and have a nice cup of coffee." His deep blue eyes scanned the room and rested on your wandering ones. "Airman __________, why don 't you tell me what this is?"

At the sound of your surname, your eyes shot to the front of the class. You had been so worried about the world, you hadn't exactly been paying attention to the instructor at all. Your eyes switched from the instructor to the insignia on the whiteboard and back. "L... Lieutenant...?" You weren't entirely sure anymore.

The instructor chuckled slightly. "Drop and give me ten." You did as you were told, pacing yourself so you wouldn't have to stand up so quickly. You heard someone say, "Colonel?" and another say, "Captain?" and those classmates were also told to drop and do pushups. Finally, you stood up and his eyes settled on you again. Everyone else was on the floor doing physical exercises. "Care to try again, __________?"

"Sergeant, the insignia shown is ranked 'Major,' Sergeant." The words flowed easily through your mouth.

That must have been the correct answer. And the instructor confirmed it by flashing you a smirk and allowing you to sit down while the others continued their exercises.

It had rained outside. Didn't matter, you were still doing your physical training. Today happened to be the day you were required to get dirty. "You will crawl fifty meters up a steep hill, carry your partner a hundred yards, switch partners and go the other hundred yards, and complete a mile run. Questions?" Your mind was still wandering from earlier, but you somehow managed to pay attention to the drill instructor. "First team, go!"

You were off. Holding an M16 in your hands was easy enough. But once you got to the hill, crawling proved difficult. Because the crawl was not only hard to do on your elbows and knees--you were also required to have your face on the ground. And this ground happened to be made of mud. The natural feminine instincts of staying clean were difficult to ignore, and the drill instructor saw it.

"__________! Get your fucking face in the ground right now!" He shouted. You did, against your will, but apparently it wasn't enough. You soon felt a heavy boot on your back, forcing your face deeper in the mud. "Do you want to die?!"

"No, Drill Sergeant!"

"Do you want to give up?!"

"No, Drill Sergeant!"

"Do you want to let your country down?!"

"No, Drill Sergeant!"

"Then I suggest you get your face in the fucking mud and get your ass up on that hill, maggot!"

"Yes, Drill Sergeant!" After a few feet of crawling, the mud felt nothing short of good on your face. It almost felt natural to you, as if you were born to get your hands dirty if it meant you kept your country safe from anyone who opposed it.

At the top of the hill, your battle buddy bent down and picked you up onto her back and began carrying you the hundred yards. It was a bumpy ride, but you were glad for the short rest. At the end of her turn, you dropped from her back and tossed her on your back, going another hundred yards. The weight of another person's body stressed your muscles in a way you never thought possible. You thought it was going to kill you, but instead it gave you even more encouragement. Perhaps someday, in a battle situation, you were going to have to carry your buddy out of danger. Having experienced the death of two of your closest friends further deepened the need to be stronger, faster, move farther, and push your body harder. You were not about to let anyone else down.

At the end of the day, your body was sore and numb. You could hardly move back to the barracks, and when you did, you fell on your bunk stiff as a board. Tomorrow was graduation day, a day you had been anticipating since Day 0.

In the morning, you felt odd that you had no dreams. The routines went as planned: morning exercise, breakfast, and finally, the parade. The males went first, running a mile or two in front of a crowd of spectating civilians, most of which were friends and family. Then the females. It was hard to keep from looking up at the crowd. You had invited your mother to the graduation, but you weren't entirely sure she had come. You never received a letter from her, so you had every right to believe she didn't. Still, it would be a pleasant surprise to see you cheering you on from the bleachers.

And then the formal graduation. Everything was very official. You were standing in your blues, you repeated a few words the sergeants told you to repeat (which was basically an oath to the country,) and you were allowed to throw your cap into the air, provided you knew which one was yours and it returned to your head safely. Everything was fine and dandy until the crowd dispersed and you were surrounded by people hugging the new Airmen, some of them getting hugs and kisses from wife and children.

And you...

It didn't take long to weave your way out of the crowd. "I guess she didn't come..." you said under your breath. You pushed aside the feelings of reject and held your head high with pride for yourself. And then the most amazing thing happened. There in front of you, a wall of nine men was walking in procession towards you. You couldn't heard what they were talking about, but they were smiling and laughing. All were clad in black suits, and looked of different ethnicity. You saw a Japanese man, an Italian, two Germans, an American, an Englishman, a Frenchman, a Russian, and a Chinese man. The American, who stood in the middle, shined the brightest of all, blonde hair and blue eyes shimmering in the daylight. He had his head cocked to the side and his hand raised as if saying, "Remember the time when..."

He suddenly turned his head forward, still smiling brightly. His eyes rested on you. His smile widened. There was a look or tenderness mixed with pride, satisfaction, and joy in his eyes. The kind of look a father would have given his child if he got accepted into Harvard on a full scholarship. You didn't bother looking behind you--you knew he was looking at you and no one else. Everyone around him followed suit, though each one's expression was slightly different. Most of them were full of pride and happiness. There was a cocky smirk on the albino's face. You flashed a grin at everyone, letting a stray tear fall from your eye.

Your eyes finally rested back on the American. His toothy grin melted into a soft, loving smile. Suddenly, he winked at you, and the group disappeared in a gust of golden dust. A breeze swept up the dust from its fall to the ground and circled around you. "I'm proud of you." "You did it, Bella!" "My sinceresht congraturations." "You did good job, aru!" "Try not to be fuckink up in the future, da?" "Ma cherie is as intelligent as she is beautiful, non?" "You are magnificent, love."

"Did you like your surprise?"

The familiar voice, the familiar phrase... But before you could answer, the dust was gone, the wind settled. You felt something clutched in your hand and quietly looked down. A pair of military dog tags linked together by a chain were carried softly in your palm. You grabbed one and looked at it, reading to yourself.

JONES, ALFRED F
004-07-1776
U.S. ARMY
PROTESTANT
O NEGATIVE
JULY 4, 1776

A smile grew on your face. They were his, Alfred's. A new found hope fluttered in you. The events that happened may have only been a dream. But this was proof enough that they were real, in more ways than one.
Le finale! :phew:

Hetalia x Reader: Bring Her Back
Chapter 20 - threepinkdoors.deviantart.com/...
Chapter 21 - threepinkdoors.deviantart.com/...
Chapter 22 - :star:

WHAT IS THIS BOOBERY?


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Okay. There's a few things I need to explain here. My dream actually
ended with Chapter 21, so writing this last chapter was excruciatingly
hard. I was actually planning on making the ending excruciatingly
painful because I'm a sadist that way. But I decided against it. You guys
have already been through so much, I went for a bittersweet ending
instead.

I chose to make them a memory, because I think that would be the most
legitimate ending to something like this. After all, the purpose is so that
I wouldn't forget about where I'm coming from once the military gets
their hands on me. I might be more inclined to remembering them if
I gave it a bittersweet ending than if it was a happy or devastating
one, because that's just how I roll :meow:

Anyway, I hope the ending met your expectations!

Dog Tags
Plain and simple, one is for the BODY, one is for the BAG. Yep, the
military issues them out in case you're deployed and you get blown
to bits. It's the only way they can ID you if you're beyond recognition.
Most soldiers wear them together to constantly remind themselves
not to die. Or at least, that's what I've heard ^^; A typical dog tag
will include the following:

- Name
- Social Security
- Branch of Service
- Religion (for burial services)
- Blood Type (for medical purposes unknown to me, possible organ
donation..?)
- Date of Birth (not sure if this is included, but I did anyway because
cheese)

For Alfred's SSN, I played around with his birthday XD I can see
America as being any religion, but since England was complaining
that he didn't know whether he was Catholic or Protestant, I went
with Protestant lol As a headcannon of mine, the countries all have
O blood types for the sole reason that it is the universal blood type
and can be donated to everyone. As for the negative part, I am
O negative myself, so I just threw it in there for kicks c:

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Hetalia (c) :iconhimaruyaplz:
Story (c) :iconthreepinkdoors:
You (c) :iconairforceplz:
© 2013 - 2024 threepinkdoors
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Lizzie11o's avatar
Lets just say that, that ending had me literally screaming. The neighbors are very concerned.