A/N: My summer is fading...but before I go...here is one last fic~I actually had to do a little research for this one, but thank God for Wikipedia.

Warnings: American mafia AU, human names used, swearing, violence, and a bit of OOC-ness

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

'This is me for forever, one of the lost ones'

Alfred and Matthew Jones never wanted this. Being orphans for as long as they can remember, they have been living on the streets for almost all their lives. Not that the time mattered. The weeks, months, and years bled into one another; the days only marked when the two had something to eat or a decent place to sleep. Moving from one city to the next, the number of generous people who offered them their change was few and far in between. They have tried to look for distant relatives who would hopefully take them in, but found none. Alfred, the older of the two, has tried time and time again to get a job. But because he had no proof of receiving an education or credentials, the blonde was never accepted. They moved about from state to state, hoping one of them wouldn't have such strict laws when it came to getting jobs. The twins were about to leave the streets of New York when a mysterious man offered the both of them to work for him. Although…he never told them what kind of job he had in store for them. Alfred and Matthew didn't care though, they just wanted to make an honest living and support each other. They were oblivious to the world of crime they have just stepped into. But perhaps this was due to how their boss treated them on their first day on the job. In his office, the boss simply gave them the money they needed to rent an apartment and feed themselves in a suitcase. All this money in one setting and in return all the twins had to do was settle themselves into New York. Alfred was more than elated to take the money and buy himself a hamburger. Matthew, on the other hand, became doubtful.

"Alfred, I don't think we should stay here," the blonde warned. "Isn't it weird how our boss has that kind of money on him?"

"What are you talking about? He's just probably some rich business owner…and a cool boss too!" Alfred responded through a mouthful of hamburger.

The two settled into a one-bedroom apartment, for that was all they could afford while trying to stock up on food, essential furniture (a bed, couch, table, and two chairs) a television, car, new clothes, and glasses the two needed.

When the dubious look on Matthew didn't go away, Alfred reached across the old table and placed a reassuring hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'm sure things will look up from now on."

Things really did went well for the orphans…until a week later. The two were just getting used to living the average life until the boss called them in. It was about time they knew what their jobs were. Upon entering his office, the boss got right down to business. He was very frank with it as well.

"You two will be working for the mafia…my mafia,"

At first, the two were quiet, trying to process what was being said.

While Matthew was still rendered speechless, Alfred spoke up rather nervously. "Ah…haha…that's funny boss, you really had us the-"

"I'm serious. From now on, you will do everything I say,"

"W-what? What kind of job is this?" Alfred stood up from his chair, walking toward the boss.

"Alfred, wait," Matthew told him from his seat.

"You guys said you didn't care what kind of job it was," the boss reminded them. "Besides, you two now owe me your lives for my generosity," pointing at the various articles of clothing on Alfred and Matthew.

"We don't owe you a cent!" he said defiantly, sapphire orbs glaring at the man across the desk.

"You're right, it's not a cent," the boss said coolly, amused by the blonde's reaction. "It's your lives…but then again," he snapped his fingers. The two bodyguards standing behind the side of the boss's plush chair stepped forward, each with a small pistol in their hands. The two figures then pointed the guns at the twins. "You two may not even be worth a cent…"

Alfred continued to stand his ground, his hands balled up into fists. In the back, Matthew was whimpering.

"Either you comply, or I'll kill you and your brother right here and now."

What other choice did they have? They had to pay what they owe…and that meant starting their new "jobs".

X.X.X.X

Because of his charisma that he exhibited to the boss on their "day of revelation", the boss assigned Alfred to be the consigliere, or negotiator for the mafia. However, because of his stubborn and careless attitude, this normally led to disputes rather than agreements with nothing achieved and even on-the-spot massacres. Matthew, the quieter one, was assigned to do the dirty work of the mafia that always involved blood being spilt. This was because he was almost always invisible to people, making him the ideal assassin. This also failed however, because Matthew couldn't stand the sight of blood much less kill another being. The boss became infuriated by these constant failures, and threatened that if they continue to mess things up, he'll have them killed. After hearing this, the twins tried to find every possible way to escape. But the boss expected this, and had henchmen watch their every move for some time. He'd hoped that by doing so, they would become docile...it appeared to work. There was nowhere for the twins to go; they couldn't leave. Out of desperation, Alfred and Matthew decided to change places with one another. Matthew, the more sophisticated and polite one, did well in Alfred's place as negotiator while Alfred, although he didn't like it much himself, did well in Matthew's place as the mafia's "soldato". At least he didn't have to be nice to those he killed, just so long as he got the job done. Although a bit awkward at first, the identical twins got used to wearing the other's clothes when called for by the boss. It did take longer for Alfred to get used to his job as an assassin though. After the first few murders he committed, he would always trudge into their apartment and throw up. Matthew would always be there to comfort him when he woke up in the middle of the night screaming and sobbing from the nightmares. A bit of Alfred died after this, but Matthew knew that his brother wouldn't let this dampen his hopes for leaving the mafia. To shake off suspicion from fellow mafia members, the twins imitated the other's practical characteristics; such as Matthew forcing himself to talk louder than usual and Alfred keeping certain thoughts to himself rather than blurting out what was on his mind. Some members noticed that Matthew's timid attitude changed when he was on the streets at night, but the boss dismissed it for trauma from the job; and asserted that this trauma builds character. The impersonations worked beautifully. But no matter how well he can copy his brother, Matthew can never fully embrace his originally assigned job and kill someone.

'The one without a name, without an honest heart as compass'

"You called for us, boss?" Alfred asked when the twins approached the one they owed their lives to.

"A new gang has arrived here from Europe," their boss started, taking a drag of his cigar. "Cheeky bastards…they already think they can start business here, stealing money from one of my revenues," he continued, blowing smoke into the brothers' faces. "But they want to 'talk it over' first before resorting to violence…what a bunch of bureaucrats!" he jeered. Glancing at Alfred, he said "Which is why I want you to go and do the talking for me. I'll give you one week to sort this shit out. After which," he looked over to Matthew. "I'm leaving the rest in your hands."

The twins bowed their heads. "Understood, boss."

X.X.X.X

Matthew was used to this setting – a hotel room used for their meeting with the other mafia. But no matter how many times he encountered the strangers, he always felt nervous. Although, he should be grateful; he received the lesser of two evils. Pulling Alfred's bomber jacket tighter around himself against the chill that ran down his spine, Matthew entered through the door along with two other members. Upon entering, the European mafia was already there and stood up when they saw their North American counterparts.

"Good day," one of the members greeted in a British accent. He then extended his hand towards Matthew. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, the negotiator of this mafia,"

"Alfred Jones, nice to meet you." Matthew said while shaking the offered hand.

After the formalities, Matthew seated himself on the opposite side of the Englishman and adjusted his glasses before speaking. "So, have you been able to find the person on your side accused of stealing money from our boss?"

"You're talking to him right now," Arthur muttered. "B-but that's ridiculous!" he added after Matthew raised an eyebrow. "We just got here! There's no bloody way that one of your member was able to find out about the situation and inform our boss about it…I'm being framed,"

Matthew patiently listened to Arthur as he began to thoroughly explain the situation on his side and his opinion on the matter. He even went so far as to go into great detail on how his mafia arrived, the specific date, and the extent of his knowledge of the city. When the Englishman was done, Matthew nodded his understanding. "Thank you for such a thorough report and information, Mr. Kirkland. I'll be sure to do whatever I can to prove your innocence."

X.X.X.X

"I need your help on this one, Alfred," Matthew pleaded.

"Awww but Matthew, you know I'll be busy wasting people on the streets," Alfred whined.

"Exactly! The real culprit is sure to be around there at night, which is convenient for you." Matthew retorted. "I had a talk with them just this afternoon. They said they just arrived here, so there's no way they can find their way around and do these things…they were using maps to find the hotel…Someone from our own mafia must be doing this behind the boss's back."

"Why should we care so much about a bunch of strangers? It's their fault they set themselves up for this," Alfred argued.

"Because a hero doesn't let innocent people get killed," Matthew threw back.

"I don't know if they can be called 'innocent'…"

"You know what I mean!"

Alfred chuckled at the flustered look Matthew was giving him. "Oh, alright. As the older brother and hero, it's my responsibility to look out for you. And if you're really into this and want to help that guy, then I guess I'll do this," Putting on Matthew's tan coat, Alfred turned from the small mirror hanging on the wall and faced his brother. "So, how do I look?"

"Just like me," Matthew answered light-heartedly.

"And I thought I was the conceited one," Alfred teased.

Both got a laugh out of that before Alfred flashed Matthew a thumbs-up and closed the door to their one-bedroom apartment behind him.

During the next few days, Alfred followed his fellow mafia members at night and listed those who looked suspicious. He then handed the list to Matthew, who took care of it from there and narrowed the list as well as found evidence against the culprit. The entire process took six days, leaving only one day to spare before Alfred had to kill Arthur.

'Oh how I wish, for soothing rain, all I wish is to dream again'

"I cannot thank you enough for what you've done," Arthur said while breathing a sigh of relief.

"You are welcome, Mr. Kirkland," Matthew smiled at the Englishman.

"Detestable…how that wanker used our arrival to place suspicion on us for something he has done,"

"As I mentioned before, I am terribly sorry that he used you as a scapegoat," Matthew offered.

"It wasn't your fault, Alfred. In fact, I owe you. It's obvious that you put a lot of effort into this. So just ask me for anything, and it'll be done."

"Anything?" the blonde echoed in surprise. For a split second, there was hope in Matthew's eyes, but that quickly dissolved and he mutely shook his head. "It was nothing…I wasn't the only one who helped prove your innocence…you don't owe me anything,"

"Nonsense, surely there must be something that you want," Arthur pressed. "Is it money, women, fame?"

Matthew shook his head again, avoiding eye contact with the Englishman.

"Power?" he tried again.

"What we want…can't come from one man," Matthew mumbled.

"What are you talking about? How do I know I can't provide you that if you don't tell me what it is first?" Arthur peered at him with inquiring green eyes.

Matthew fidgeted in the plush chair he was sitting in. The hotel room suddenly felt too small for the mafia members to be in. He looked to the back of him, where the only door to leave was. The mafia members that accompanied the two negotiators stood lazily near the entrance, obviously bored with the conversation at hand. Reverting his attention back to Arthur, he said desperately "Won't your boss get upset if he knew that you are giving me money?"

"So is it money you want? Don't worry, it's coming out of my personal account. My boss and the mafia have nothing to do with it."

Matthew dug his fist deeper into the pocket of the bomber jacket. He really didn't want to tell this man what both Alfred and he desired the most; Arthur was just a stranger…a member of another mafia. "It's not money…" he muttered.

"Then what is it?" Arthur persisted, his voice rising to indicate his irritation. "I really want to know…is it really that bad?" he was looking at Matthew with a concerned look on his face now.

"Freedom," Matthew replied in a hushed tone. He didn't want to say it, but the Englishman looked like he genuinely cared.

Maybe we can trust him…he tried to convince himself.

Barely catching the request, Arthur raised a thick eyebrow. "Don't be silly, it's obvious that you are a free man in this country,"

"You don't understand," Matthew disagreed. Raising his head to lock his sapphire eyes with Arthur's emerald ones, he explained in a low voice "My brother and I want to leave the mafia life behind and start anew. We never wanted to work for the boss, but forced to against our will," Once in a while in his explanation, Matthew looked cautiously at the mafia members leaning on the walls with their heads down.

Arthur was rendered speechless when Matthew was done. He bowed his head in defeat. "I…I don't think I can…isn't there anything else?"

Matthew again shook his head to indicate his answer as he got up from his seat. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Kirkland. But please don't feel bad, there are just some things a single person can't do," he gave Arthur a sad smile. "Thank you for your generous offer."

X.X.X.X

"What were you thinking?" Alfred criticized when Matthew recited what happened at the meeting. "How could you have told a stranger something like that? You should have just said you wanted money."

"Because I'm tired of lying, Alfred," Matthew said defensively. "He looked like he really wanted to help,"

"Tch, anyone can pretend they care you know," Alfred countered.

"But he looked upset when he realized he couldn't pay me back,"

"Probably just using his acting skills…" the older retorted cynically.

When Matthew couldn't find anything to convince his brother otherwise, he hung his head low.

"It's for the better that no one gets involved with our problem," Alfred said more softly. "Don't worry, I'll get the both of us out of this mess,"

"Because you're the hero," Matthew finished for him, giving his brother a small smile.

"Exactly!" Alfred beamed before going out for his nightly assignment.

X.X.X.X

"Curse these bloody streets…if only I haven't lost the map!" Arthur complained aloud while walking down an alley. "There may not be a lot of people out, but at least one of them should know their way around here." It was already dark, the streets only illuminated by the lamp poles. He was about to round a corner to enter a public street when someone grabbed him from behind. Arthur was fast to react, but by the time his hand was on his pistol in his coat, he felt cold metal resting on his head.

"You fucking limey…no matter what the negotiations were, you still owe our mafia money," the attacker breathed into Arthur's ear.

"Ha! You mean I still owe you money, right?" the Englishman snapped. He let out a yelp when his blonde hair was yanked on by a rough hand. Arthur was then thrown against the brick wall, his face hitting the cold surface. The equally cold gun was still pointed at his head.

"That's right, limey…way to fuck up my plan. If only you'd stayed ignorant and let yourself get framed, it wouldn't have been the end for you her-AH!"

The sound of a gunshot echoed in the alley, followed by a pain-induced scream. A pistol fell to the floor.

"Looks like the hero made it here just in time!"

"What are you doing here, Matthew?" the stranger demanded, cradling his bleeding hand.

"Isn't it obvious? But I'm more interested in what you're doing here, Tony," Alfred said rather sternly. "And why you were stealing money behind the boss's back,"

"I don't have to answer your stupid questions!" Tony barked.

"Okay, suit yourself. And good luck explaining what happened to your hand to the boss…not that it'll matter…seeing as though it'll be the last time you see him," Alfred shrugged.

"Unlike you and your brother, I'll be able to make the escape from the mafia unscathed," he snarled before making his way deeper into the alley to avoid getting caught in the street light.

"He's getting away! Aren't you going to follow him?" Arthur asked and pointed at the trail of fresh blood on the ground.

His voice averted Alfred's attention on the fleeing figure to the man on the ground. "Nah," the blonde answered tersely. He offered Arthur his hand. "You okay?"

"Alfred?" the name slipped from the Englishman's lip after accepting the help to get on his feet. With the limited lighting, the person standing in front of him looked exactly like the person he talked to this afternoon.

"Yeah? Oh…uhh…I'm Matthew Jones, Alfred's brother," Alfred quickly answered, mentally reminding himself who he was.

"Ah, I see…I'm fine, thank you," Arthur answered Alfred's previous question. Although the flustered look on his face told a different story.

"Well, you don't look 'fine' to me," Alfred teased while pocketing his pistol into Matthew's tan coat. When the Englishman crossed his arms and gave him a defiant look, he added "C'mon, you can tell the hero your problems,"

After being repetitively poked on the arm by the flamboyant young man, Arthur gave in. "…It's just that this is the second time since I've arrived here that I needed someone…to help me…" he admitted. "This also means that this is the second time I owe someone my life,"

He must be the guy Matthew talked about…Arthur Kirkland…Alfred deducted.

"Huh…okay then…get me a hamburger," he said after a moment of silence lapsed over them.

"Wait…what?"

"You heard me. To pay me back for saving your life, you'll buy me a burger!" the blonde proclaimed with a victorious smile.

Arthur stared at Alfred for a moment, his mouth slightly open. "A-are you serious?"

Alfred nodded enthusiastically.

"But that's absurd! Wouldn't you rather have-"

"I don't want money, women, fame, or power…if that's what you were going to ask me," Alfred interrupted.

A bit stunned by the déjà vu, he remained silent. "Then…then are you implying that my life's worth is equal to that of a hamburger?" Arthur was affronted by the realization.

Man…this guy is stubborn…Alfred thought to himself. The night was slipping away, and he still had his job to finish. Peering at Arthur with sapphire eyes, he said with a serious tone "Look, you were the one who asked me for what I wanted for helping you out right? Are you really going to go against my request?"

Before he could get a syllable out, Alfred got close enough to him to pat him on the back. "Now when we see each other again, you'd better have that burger okay?" he grinned.

The Englishman couldn't really do anything else but nod his head slightly. The young man next to him was just so tenacious. It took another minute for Alfred to give Arthur directions for the apartment he was living in. When the Englishman indicated his understanding, Alfred started to back away from the lamp pole.

"Great! Then I'll see you around, Arthur." Alfred flashed him a thumbs-up and strode off into the alleyway.

Arthur stood where he was, dumbfounded.

How did he know my name?

X.X.X.X

"You're back later than usual," Matthew greeted his brother.

"Well, that's because I ran into your friend on the streets tonight," Alfred explained, throwing the tan coat over his chair. "Tony tried to kill him, but I came in to save him."

"Are you alright? Did you get shot anywhere?" Matthew asked worryingly while offering Alfred a cup of coffee.

"I'm perfectly fine. Oh, and Arthur made that same offer he made with you,"

"So…how did you handle the situation?" the younger wanted to know.

"Simple…I said I wanted a hamburger!" Alfred answered proudly.

Matthew couldn't help but snicker at this. "Really, Alfred? I can just imagine Arthur's reaction,"

"Hey, it was the only thing I could think of at that time," he pouted childishly.