Tomorrow's Reflection and Yesterday's Echo

Category: Fanfiction Crossover
Fandom(s): Hetalia | Firefly | Hunger Games
Summary: The personification of what used to be the United States of America runs into what he thinks is a clone of himself while wandering through the marketplace of a small town in District 4. What he ends up discovering is simultaneously a blast from the past and a peek into the future, and it's unlikely that anyone will ever be quite the same afterward... Oneshot drabblefic, AU crossover between two preexisting AUs.

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Alfred F. Jones - formerly known the personification of the United States of America and currently one of three nations jointly representing the whole of what was once the continent of North America - was in a surprisingly chipper mood. Granted, District 4 wasn't exactly the most chipper of places and it looked like it was going to storm soon, but Alfred didn't really care at the moment. Who cared about rain when wonderful, glorious food was staring him right in the face, just waiting to be eaten? Oh, and Enrique and Matthew were currently meeting with the leader of the rebellion in District 4, conveying some important rebellion-y orders from District 13, that too. But the rebellion could wait for just a moment, because he hadn't eaten in a week, and dammit, he was going to get himself an apple even if it killed him. Maybe a carrot, too. And a stall down the street was selling some fish, unsurprisingly; his brother and Enrique would probably appreciate a good fish dinner.

Swiping the back of his hand across one cheek in an attempt to clean the worst of the travel grime off, Alfred mentally tallied up the money in his pocket as he edged along the produce stall, eyeing the assorted vegetables and fruit hungrily. He bumped into someone on his left, and he quickly murmured an apology, "Whoops, sorry about that."

"Whoops, sorry about that, buddy," came the practically simultaneous response, and the nation's eyes widened as he registered that that voice had been his. Turning to the side, his eyes widened even more as he took in the person standing before him. The man was a near identical copy of himself, right down to the unruly cowlick sticking straight up out of his blonde hair and the expression of speechless shock Alfred knew was reflected on his own face. He was cleaner, though, lacked Alfred's distinctive scar across his left eye, and his glasses were still whole and unbroken, but other than that, the American nation could have been looking in a mirror. Well. This was certainly a new one.

Alfred's eyes suddenly narrowed, his good mood evaporating like water on a hot skillet. There could only be one explanation for this, and it wasn't a good one. "Damn mutts," he snarled, whipping out his pistol and aiming it at the doppelganger's forehead, finger tightening on the trigger. "Can't ever get away from you, can I?"

0o0o0o0

The other Alfred dodged just as the gun went off, eyes wide and surprised. "What the hell-?" The bustling street was thrown into chaos as the blast echoed off the docks, beach, buildings and water. Alfred growled, trying to reaim the gun, but a quick, sweeping strike from the muttation knocked it out of his hand.

"Dude, calm down, just listen to me for a second, okay?" Alfred would have none of it, and instead lunged forward and talked the other man around the waist. Oh, he was going to murder Panem the next time he saw the schizophrenic pipsqueak. How dare he try something like this? What if it had been Matthew or Enrique this thing had found first instead? Alfred didn't want to think about it.

A cloud of sand rose up around the two as they grappled with each other, Alfred trying desperately to restrain the mutt while attempting to grab his concealed knife out of his boot, and the mutt trying equally hard to restrain him in turn. Alfred grunted as his clone almost put him in a chokehold. Good God, was this thing strong!

"Look, me…" gasped the clone, wrenching one of Alfred's arms behind his back and pinning him face first to the ground. "Stop freaking out! I don't wanna hurt you."

"Bullshit," snarled Alfred, struggling mightily to try to free himself and getting a mouthful of grit for his pains. "I know what you are, and I'm not fallin' for it."

"Do you now?" the replica panted, grabbing Alfred's other arm and holding it down as well when he saw that the nation was trying to go for his knife again. "Jesus, man, stop struggling! I dunno who or what you think I am, but I'm actually you from the future!  Well, the future of a divergent timeline, I think Winnie called it, but my point still stands." The utter absurdity of that statement made Alfred huff out a sarcastic laugh in spite of himself.

"And I'm the freaking president of Panem," he retorted snidely. "Nice try, though. And why am I even still talking to you? Gerroff me so I can put you out of my misery, dammitall!" He redoubled his efforts to get away, absently realizing that they were drawing a sizable crowd. Not good.

"Look, I know I probably sound like a raving lunatic, but it's true!" the doppelganger insisted. "See if you can sense me if you don't believe me. If you can't, I'll get you your gun and stand still for you while you shoot to your heart's content, promise." Alfred glowered, but since he was pretty much helpless at the moment, and the thing hadn't made any move to tear his head off or otherwise murder him, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to… check…

Alfred gasped softly, for there was no mistaking that instinctive feeling in his gut, now that he was actually paying attention to it. But this nation felt different than any he had ever encountered. This must be what an echo feels like, he thought numbly. It was like the oddest sense of déjà vu mixed with the impression that he was listening to his own heart beating in a stranger's chest.

"It's like an echo, isn't it?" his other said quietly, mirroring his thoughts.

"How…? What…?" Alfred was, for once, at a complete loss for words.

"Alright, boys, what's going on here?" That was a Peacekeeper by the sound of it… Oh shi-

"Oh, nothing at all, sir!" Alfred found himself very suddenly and jerkily hauled out of the sand to his feet and crushed in a gigantic bear hug. "Just tracking down my beloved little twin brother here. Isn't that right, Alfie?"

"Mrphle!" Alfred protested, voice muffled in the other's shirt, glasses askew.

"You'll have to excuse him, sir," his mirror told the balding, wiry old man (oh, thank God, not a Peacekeeper, thank God) apologetically. "He hasn't been quite… right in the head, if you know what I mean, after Dad died." He interjected a very convincing quiver into his voice. "He gets violent, you see. We were just on our way to see the doctor, but he got away and had one of his, er, 'episodes.' Please forgive him; it won't happen again."

"Hm. See that it doesn't, young man," the man said, giving them both a piercing look. "I catch you disturbing the peace again, I'm reporting the both of you."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir, won't happen again, sir!" the other Alfred babbled, pulling his "twin" along through the crowd. He didn't protest the treatment, though, feeling as if he were in a dream and not quite sure how to wake up. They jogged through the docks and buildings of the large seaside settlement for a couple minutes, before Other Alfred ducked into an alleyway between two buildings, pulling Alfred along with him. Jarred out of his momentary stupor, Alfred immediately started interrogating his counterpart.

"Alright, you have about thirty seconds to explain who you are, what you're doing here, and… just… what?" he finished, his vocabulary briefly giving out in the face of incomprehension, still suspicious of this whole situation.

"Couldn't have said it better myself, dude," the other replied, a twinkle in his eyes that was so familiar that it was eerie. It was like having an out of body experience, and the American nation wasn't so sure he liked it. "As for your questions, I'm Alfred F. Jones, formerly the personification of the United States of America, currently one half of the now obsolete Anglo-Sino Alliance, it was an accident, I swear, and Winston could probably answer that question better than I could. Gimme a sec." He started rummaging around in his pocket.

Alfred's brain had choked around the "Anglo-Sino Alliance" part. "The who and what now?" he said succinctly.

"Simply put, dude," A2 - as Alfred's mind now called his clone/other self - said, looking up with a small smirk, "I'm you. About… what year is this?" Alfred numbly gave it to him. "So then… about three hundred and fifty years older. Nice to know that I've aged well," he joked.

"But…" Alfred's mind lurched into overdrive, having gotten over its initial cough. "But… you're stronger than I am. You're…" he trailed off, reached out, and touched the unblemished skin around A2's left eye, and surprisingly, he didn't feel at all awkward being so forward. A2 didn't seem to mind, either, and instead regarded him with a serenity that Alfred never thought he'd see in himself, of all people. The two locked eyes for a moment, mirrored sky blue reflecting heartache, weariness, and as-yet-undimmed optimism, though the depths of A2's eyes seemed older, almost ancient, and there was an odd resignation residing there that somewhat scared Alfred, though he couldn't place the reason behind the feeling for a couple moments. Then it hit him.

Oh God… Alfred thought numbly. He's waiting to die. He… I think he wants to die. An strange kind of horrified sadness welled up in him, and A2 seemed to realize what was causing it. He pulled his younger, alternate self into a half hug, rightly knowing that Alfred wouldn't mind.

"Hey, it's okay," he comforted quietly. "I'm ready to go whenever it happens, and it probably won't happen for a long, long time, anyway. I've been dyin' for two hundred and fifty years now, and hey, I was still able to beat you," he joked.

"Don't push it," Alfred growled mock seriously at the playful jab. "I'd be more than happy to challenge that statement."

"I believe you," A2 chuckled, then he turned serious once again. "But I'm not your future self, kid. I'm from an alternate timeline." Alfred blinked, processing this.

"Like Star Trek?" he asked slowly, his inner sci-fi geek tentatively starting to raise its head for the first time in a long while.

"Heh, something like that," A2 grinned, pulling an odd device out of his pocket. "Here, I'm probably gonna need a little help explaining it and some proof, if nothing else."  The device appeared to be two small metal sticks connected together, both about the size of a hand, and when A2 pulled on one, they separated, a small screen connecting the two almost like some sort of futuristic scroll. Alfred leaned over his double's shoulder curiously to get a better glimpse of the picture, sound coming from two small speakers on the tops of the sticks.

A beautiful young Asian woman sat in front of the screen, engrossed in a book, cheek propped in one hand as she read. Long, silky dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and back, and Alfred knew that the gorgeous pink dress she wore would probably cost more than what most inhabitants in District 12 made in a year.

"Hey, 'Kiko," A2 addressed the girl warmly, familiar affection lacing his voice. The young lady shut her book and placed it offscreen, looking up with a bright smile, but she stopped short when she caught a glimpse of the two identical nations gazing back at her. Shock quickly wrote itself all over her pretty features, a hand flying to her open mouth in surprise.

"Yeah… we kinda have a situation here," A2 said sheepishly. "Could you call Winston over here, please?"

"Alright," she replied, gaze flicking over to Alfred for a split second before she stood up and quickly walked offscreen, leaving the two nations staring at an empty chair and cluttered workroom, nondescript parts and tools strewn all over the place. What was an obviously aristocratic young lady doing in a place like that? For that matter, who was she? She seemed familiar somehow …

A distinct call of "WHAT?" followed by a loud crash and quick footsteps a few seconds later drew Alfred's attention back to the screen, just in time to see a tall, lanky figure overshoot the chair and nearly go sprawling to the ground, only catching himself in the nick of time on the counter where the screen was situated apparently, because the picture jostled around considerably for a moment before steadying itself. The figure, a young man about nineteen years old Alfred now saw, had righted himself and settled in the chair, a beaming, delighted grin spreading across his face when he saw the two Alfreds. Grease was smeared across his face and ratty, scorched red shirt, and was smudged in his shaggy mop of chaotic, pale blonde curls.

A silver pair of large, round rimmed glasses sat askew on his nose, and the kid straightened them absently as he spoke, "OhmyGod, ohmyGod, it worked, it actually worked, oh my God!" He was all but dancing with excitement in his chair. Alfred raised an eyebrow. Well, this kid was certainly… enthusiastic about the situation.

"I think we already established that, Winnie," A2 said wryly.

"Umm… time out," Alfred interrupted, making the "time out" sign with his hands. "I'm lost here. Who are the kids," He pointed at the screen where the girl had joined the boy and peered over his shoulder, looking out at the two nations, "and what worked?"

"Well, to answer the latter question, you two just proved a theory of mine," the boy said, still beaming like a child that had just been told they had ten minutes to go nuts inside a candy store. "I hypothesized that if anything existing in a parallel timeline that also existed in ours was sent through my matter/energy transporter, they would actively be drawn to each other, anchoring the spastic anomaly in its own dimension until it was automatically snapped back into its leaving point in its own dimension. And I was right!"

"And you knew this wouldn't cause the explosion of all of time and space how exactly?" Alfred asked skeptically, trying to wrap his mind around the technobabble his ears had just been assaulted with. "Seems like an awfully big risk to take if you ask me."

"Hey, I tested it out a few times," the kid returned, a little defensively. "It was supposed to only transport objects – cargo and stuff, you know? – between planets. I figured out it could make things jump through time, but I still had a few bugs to work out. And someone," he gave A2 a pointed look, "turned it on, when I was still trying to calibrate the time/space coordinate transponders. Thank God I had the presence of mind to tell him to pick up the Viewfinder before it activated completely, though, or else we'd all be flying blind here"

A2 looked sheepish. "I only knocked the switch with my elbow," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.  "Hurt, too."

"See, 'Kiko?" The boy turned to the girl behind him with a smug look on his face. "I told you it wasn't my fault this time." She rolled her eyes.

"Be that as it may, you built the thing," she told him sternly. It was his turn to look sheepish. "It's your responsibility to get them back."

"I'm trying, I'm trying," he retorted. "But I've told you already, the other things I sent through the machine to test it out didn't come back for-"

"I love it when they get like this," A2 whispered to a bemused Alfred over the two teens' bickering. "It's just so entertainin'." Alfred had to admit it was rather amusing, but the train that was his thoughts abruptly took a sharp turn left and derailed as he mused over the previous conversation.

"Wait…" he murmured, and his doppelganger shot him a curious look. "She said 'others.' As in, plural. Am I missing somethi-?"

"There you are, aru! We've been looking all over for you. I swear, that's the last time I let you go off by yourself to get food, you bottomless pit." Alfred froze as the once-familiar voice reached his ears, a voice he thought he'd never hear again. His hand instinctively went for his gun as he and A2 simultaneously turned, and he cursed inwardly as he remembered that it was currently gathering dust underneath the produce stand.

The two new figures blinked in surprise at the spectacle of two Alfreds standing side by side in the trash strewn alleyway. There was a moment of complete and uncomfortable silence, broken only by the cawing of gulls overhead and the distant sound of the sea before the man who looked like the former personification of China spoke again. "Julius," he said quite calmly to the much taller young man standing in slack-jawed silence beside him. "Please tell me that I'm not the only one seeing two Alfred Joneses right now. I'd hate for this to be the spectacle that finally drove me insane."

"Hey!" Alfred and his counterpart exclaimed indignantly in chorus.

"No, it's not just you, old man," the unknown man replied in a composed tenor, a faint smirk appearing on his face. Alfred couldn't help but get the oddest feeling that he'd seen the man somewhere before, too. Frankly, he was getting quite tired of the constant déjà vu he kept getting today, though the sheer, unadulterated power radiating off the nation (for that was obviously what he was) kept him on edge. Reminded him too much of Panem. And… He squinted at the man, and then started slightly, realizing why the kid gave him such a strong sense of déjà vu: the young man looked like some weird hybrid offspring of him and China. Now there was a scary thought.

"For the last time, do not call me old, child," China snapped, striding briskly toward them. Alfred could feel him now, and yes, it was definitely China, not a muttation. That irreproducible feeling was the only thing that kept him from either running full speed in the opposite direction or going for his knife.

"Easy, man," A2 murmured to him as China neared, followed by his tall, blonde companion. "It's cool."

"So you keep saying," muttered Alfred through clenched teeth. "But this is all becoming just a little stressful, in case you couldn't tell."

"We apologize for that," China said with an apologetic incline of his head as he neared. "It was not our intention to go about intruding on your timeline."

"Uh, yeah, so I've gathered," Alfred returned with a quick glance at the device A2 still held, where the two oddly familiar kids had stopped their bickering and were watching the proceedings with the intensity of a hawk. He returned his gaze to China, and resisted the urge to quietly have a freak out. No, he reminded himself firmly with a small shake of his head. This wasn't his Yao. This wasn't the man he'd watched bleed out his last on the yellowed grass of the first Hunger Games Arena, one of Switzerland's knives embedded in his- don't you dare go there! Do NOT go there!

He tried to focus on what his clone was saying instead of the memories that were better left buried. "So yeah, me, you obviously already know Yao, so lemme introduce you to someone I know you haven't met before." He gestured to the tall young man, who was observing the proceedings with an air of acute interest. "This is Julius Chou, the Union of Allied Planets, or just the Alliance if you prefer."

Julius inclined his head, "A pleasure." Alfred was too busy gaping like a goldfish to answer right away.

"P-Planets? " he finally gasped out faintly.

"Yup!" A2 remarked cheerfully. "He's basically the personification of a galaxy by now. Oh, and where are my manners? This," he gestured to the device, "is Akiko Sakai, Sihnon, and Winston Montgomery, Londinium. They're both planets themselves, just so you know." The boy waved with a bright grin and the girl gave a hesitant wiggle of her fingers, looking considerably more subdued and a little worried.

"You're enjoying watching my brain implode way too much, aren't you?" Alfred asked of his counterpart, glaring as he massaged his temple. God, it was too early for this. In fact, it would forever be too early for this. No, scratch that, he definitely had to be dreaming.

"Yup, pretty much, and no, dude, you're not dreaming," A2 grinned mischievously. "Want me to prove it?" He pinched his thumb and forefinger together meaningfully, inching toward Alfred's arm.

"Keep your hands to yourself." Alfred batted A2's hand away.

"Well, technically-"

"Shut it, you. You know what I meant." Alfred suddenly realized everyone who wasn't some variation of himself was trying and failing miserably not to crack up. "What?" he demanded. That seemed to be the cue for everyone to dissolve into helpless laughter.

"I always wondered how you would act if confronted with yourself, Alfred," Yao said between chuckles. "It would appear you have the unique ability to annoy even yourself."

Alfred and A2 shared a mutual eyeroll. "Okay, so let's say I believe this whole story you've been feeding me," Alfred addressed his doppelganger over the dying laughter. "How the heck did humanity end up colonizing another galaxy? Abridged version, please, we don't have all day." He craned his head up and studied the slant of the light falling through the few breaks in the dark clouds overhead, trying to gauge how much time had passed since he and his cohorts had split up.

"The short version? Humanity used Earth up, and we terraformed two new planets in a galaxy that was compatible with our own with the technology we had available," A2 explained, becoming grave. "These two, actually." He glanced at the device he held containing the image of the planets before turning his attention back to Alfred. "Yao and I pooled our resources and led the migration off Earth, becoming the Anglo-Sino Alliance, like I told you earlier. Many of the other nations came with us, though a lot of them… didn't make it." He suddenly looked incredibly weary and pained. "Humanity colonized the star system we arrived at bit by bit, and new personifications started appearing as the ones that had come with humanity faded, 'cause their cultures and people became lost and absorbed by the new ones constantly forming. It's been over five hundred years now. Yao and I are the only original nations left, and even we're on our way out the door."

"So… everyone else…?" Alfred asked, hesitantly, dreading the answer. "Mattie? Arthur? Everyone?" He couldn't imagine the gaping void in his heart if those two were suddenly torn from him, let alone everyone else he'd ever known. A2 nodded wearily, and suddenly the profound sadness and resignation hidden deep in his eyes made all the sense in the world. On impulse, the American nation lunged forward and engulfed the older version of himself in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispered huskily. "God, and I thought my life was shitty."

"Hey, it's okay," A2 said gently, patting his back. "It's not that bad, really. We've got our kids and our crew, and the 'verse is in capable hands. Life goes on, and so do we. Don't worry 'bout us, 'kay?"

"I guess," Alfred replied, pulling away and trying to smile. "I suppose I should be jealous. You're the one who gets to ride in spaceships all the time, right?"

"Yeah," A2 said, smiling back. "We work on one at the present, actually."

"Lucky dog," Alfred breathed in wonder. "We'll have to catch up sometime."

"Oh, definitely." The two grinned at each other for the first time. Alfred felt his bad mood start to lift some. This could actually be fun!

"Well, why don't you start by telling us a bit about this Earth, then?" Yao interjected. He had settled himself daintily on top of a pile of crates while Julius leaned up against the wall. "I must admit we've all been a bit perplexed in the half hour or so since we found ourselves here."

"You could start with explaining why you tried to shoot me when we first met," A2 suggested, giving Alfred a meaningful glare.

"He what?!" came three distinct voices in varying degrees of volume.

"Hey, how would you have reacted?" protested Alfred, coloring slightly. "It's not like you sent me any heads up so I could set out tea and cakes for you when you zapped yourselves into my dimension. And I hope," he addressed the three travelers pointedly, "you didn't draw any attention to yourselves. You'll be in big, big trouble with the Peacekeepers if you made a spectacle of yourselves. I'm sorry I tried to off you, though," he sincerely apologized to A2. "But you can't be too careful nowadays."

A2 looked like he was about to press the point, but Alfred suddenly stiffened and looked toward the back of the alley, sensing his twin drawing near right before he and Enrique skidded around the corner.

"A Peacekeeper recognized us, Alfred! We gotta get outta here before-!" the rest of his sentence died in his throat, and Matthew's mouth dropped open at the same time Enrique's did. Alfred thought quickly. He stepped up and stood in front of the three surprised, temporally displaced nations before the former personifications of Mexico and Canada could draw their weapons.

"You're not crazy, they're not mutts, I can explain everything later, trust me," he explained, rushing out the words in a single breath, imploring the two with his eyes to believe him. Matthew was the first to relent after closely studying his twin's face for a couple seconds.

"Fine," he said shortly. "But there had better be a good explanation for this."

"Oh ho, there is, believe me," Alfred answered, shooting a wry glance at A2. His smile fell as he saw the stricken look on the other's face as he gazed at Matthew, his face ashen and pale, as if he had just seen a ghost. And, remembering his story, Alfred knew that wasn't that far from the truth. He supposed his reaction to seeing the alternate Yao for the first time was being magnified probably at least tenfold here. But no time for that now. If the Peacekeepers caught up with them and (oh God, please no) alerted the Capitol, things would get very bad very quickly.

"Run now, talk later. The Peacekeepers catch us, we're all dead. And I don't mean figuratively," he ordered the five other personifications, grabbing A2 by the arm and propelling him along, causing him to fumble and almost drop the device he held that gave them all their only window into the other timeline. A2 quickly shoved it back in his pocket without bothering to turn it off and got down to the business of running for his life.

"Our getaway contact is at dock sixteen," Enrique spoke up from behind them. "Finnick should have been able to distract the patrolman long enough for us to make our getaway."

"Remind me to buy that boy a drink next time I see him next," Alfred remarked, vaulting over a pile of refuse in perfect sync with his counterpart.

"Did we end up in the middle of a war or something here?" demanded Julius from somewhere behind and to the left of Alfred. "What's going on?"

"Not yet, kid," was Matthew's ominous reply. "Now kindly shut up and run."

They ran, Alfred idly speculating who would win in a race between himself and the other Alfred, and then giving a small smirk as he wondered just when his life had gotten so surreal.