Hello! I've been working on this for a while and so am hyped about finally finishing typing this chapter! It was first inspired by Folie à Plusiers and so this owes some credit to that. However, it is certainly not going to involve anyone going to a mental hospital, so it's not just a repeat of that storyline. Anyway, let me stop talking and let you read. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Matthew POV

Things between Matthew and Alfred Jones had been pretty good. The old was a relatively laid back guy who watched out for his younger brother and kept his cool when he got into a pickle, which mostly happened when he felt the need to show off. They were close, even going to the same college together in New York City. Then again, their mother had always seemed a little too distant for either one to get close to so they were basically stuck with each other. Either way, the two were living pretty normally and things seemed to be going great.

Well, until Alfred started acting strange.

It started one night when they were watching hockey. Well, it was mainly Matthew watching as his brother only partly cared for the sport. He had expressed his preference for watching football over hockey several times. Matt didn't really understand his own liking of the winter sport but honestly didn't care- after all, football mainly consisted of men tackling each other.

Anyways, Matthew was watching a hockey match while Al had been doing… something else. Matt honestly didn't know what his older brother was doing- he kept moving from room to room, seemingly looking for something. Matthew figured that if he wanted help he'd ask for it so he ignored the other blond and turned his attention back to the match.

After twenty minutes of this Al appeared to be panicked. He checked his phone, opened the door and peered outside (what he'd be looking for out there Matt didn't know), and started to shift things around on the kitchen counters, lifting the items up and looking beneath them. Finally, he turned to shouting. "Mattie! Are you here? Mattie-"

What the hell? "I'm right here," he replied quietly. The younger frowned slightly. He must have a cold or something, because he couldn't manage to get any louder. That was odd.

"Huh?" was all the other college student seemed to be able to come up with as a response.

The other sighed. Had his brother taken a stupid pill today or something? "I'm right here," he repeated. "On the couch. You know, your brother Matthew? Watching a hockey match?"

Realization spread across Alfred's face along with a big smile of relief and exultation. "There you are Mattie! Where have you been?"

He rolled his eyes. Sure, his brother had his dumb moments, but this was a new low. "I've been here watching hockey for the entire time, Al." That was weird. He didn't feel sick or ill and his voice didn't sound rough or scratchy and yet he was still talking really quietly. If this kept up he might have to see his doctor, which he certainly didn't want to do.

"Really?" Albert frowned. "I-I- that was really weird." He sat down by his brother, putting his hand against his forehead. "Feels like I've been on some sort of sugar high. I was having the most insane thoughts too, about being 'the hero' and eating hamburgers." He shuddered. "I still have an urge to go to McDonald's."

Matthew cringed. Thank God they could cook in their small shared apartment. Food was way too expensive otherwise, plus fast food tasted horrible. "Well, I'm hungry and it's almost time for dinner so I'll make something. Maybe that will help." He noted that his voice was back to normal and blamed it on an occasional break in his voice. Good; he had certainly not wanted to visit the doctor, and colds sucked.

After that the night continued on normally. They ate spaghetti- a cheap meal that's easy to make- and played Call of Duty for a couple of hours before heading off to their respective rooms. Matthew closed his door, grateful for some time to think about his plans tomorrow. His first class started at nine so he'd have to leave by 8:15 to get there on time. He was free until one, when he would be joining his other class for the day. Afterwards he would just have to get back home. Not a bad day at all. He glanced up at his alarm clock, noting that it was now eleven o'clock. He'd be fine as long as he got to bed by twelve and got up by eight. Thank goodness he was a morning person and didn't have problems getting up like his brother, though the elder tried his best.

At about 11:20 he stopped thinking about the few plans he had and stripped down to his shorts and boxers. He climbed under the covers, setting his alarm before turning towards the wall. He realized he had left his glasses on again and so placed them by his clock before turning once again on his side and closing his eyes in anticipation of the calming sleep that would come soon thereafter.

His dreams were anything but peaceful.

They had started innocently enough. He had been sitting in some sort of living room, waiting for someone or something to return. It had taken him a couple of moments to realize that he had some sort of annoying curl right in front of his face. However, his subconscious didn't seem bothered at all by it so he was forced to stop focusing his attention on the offensive hair.

He found himself staring at a white dog, a weird looking one at that. Wait a minute- that was no dog. It wasn't even canine from what he could discern from its posture and facial build.

Dream him sighed. "Alfred forgot again, didn't he?" He seemed to be talking to the dog- uh, whatever it was. Certainly a little weird, but not too unusual. He knew from personal experience that some people liked talking to their pets. Only problem was that he seemed to be expecting an answer.

The animal opened its mouth, probably yawn or do some other similar action. Rationally that should've been the case. Instead, it asked in a dull tone, "Who?"

Matthew was vaguely aware that he was thinking something along the lines of what the hell? but dream him only sighed for a second time. This seemed, for some reason, to be a routine occurrence. "I'm Cana-"

"-da!" The room had blurred and solidified into some sort of meeting area, with a large, elongated table in the middle. Quite a few people, mostly men in nicer dress of some sort, were standing up, putting papers back into bags and chatting with- and in some cases bothering- others as they left the room. A very excited, familiar looking blond approached the dreamer. He was wearing a dark brown bomber jacket and was holding- was that a hamburger? He grinned widely at Matthew, very clearly recognizing him. "There you are Mattie! Where have you been?"

Matthew was getting a sense of déjà vu. However, this didn't seem to matter too much. "I've been here the whole time," he said, nearly whispering.

"Really?" Matthew noticed that the other blond had a hair sticking straight up and that his hair looked generally unkempt. He would have mistaken him for Alfred, but there was something different than that…

"Yes, really."

"Wow." The other laughed slightly. "I really didn't see you there, Mat-"

"-thew Williams." He was now standing, gun in hand, on a mostly desolate battlefield. He noticed that he was now in a cool brown uniform of some sort with the collar closed around his throat. His stray hair was still present in front of his face. His gun was pointed at an albino man, who was in a dark blue uniform with some sort of silver cross noticeable on his dirtied tie. He stared at him with red eyes. "Kesesese." Matthew realized that he was laughing. "You actually beat the awesome me, but what now? You Allies still have mein bruder to defeat, and you'll never be able to do that." The man kept laughing, its slightly childish sound couple with his words chilling the Canadi-

Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee-

He woke up with a start at the sound of his alarm. He slammed the snooze button and checked the time. It was only 7:40 but he still pulled himself out of bed, turning off his alarm as he did so. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his forehead. The details of his dreams were now blurred but he could still remember the faces and the names used.

Canada. He had called himself that, but it seemed to be suggested by others. And the Al look alike had called him Mattie. That, however, was normal in their family. But why had the albino German called him Williams?

He shook his head clear. It was dreams, for Pete's sake. They weren't supposed to make sense. Why was he trying to reflect so heavily on them? He laughed at himself, though it was a little forced. He was being silly. He should've gone to bed earlier instead of trying to beat Alfred at CoD.

Satisfied with his thoughts, the undergrad walked to his dresser and dressed quickly in jeans, some red t-shirt and a grey sweatshirt. He realized by that time that he had forgotten to put on his glasses as everything past three feet or so started to blur into masses of colors. He found his square frame glasses once again by his alarm clock (how did he miss them the first time?) and he headed to the kitchen after grabbing his school bag and wallet.

When he came into the room he realized that Alfred hadn't gotten up yet. Strange, I thought he also had a class at nine. He glanced out the window, checking for any snow, before concluding that he was either trying to sleep for another five minutes or had class late today. It did happen sometimes, just not often. He pulled out the cereal and milk, pouring them into a bowl on the counter. He sat down to his simple breakfast.

Matthew checked the clock as he was eating. It was 8:05 and his older brother was not out yet. Matt was contemplating pouring a glass of water on him to wake him up when the other blond skidded into the kitchen, hair still messy and pajamas still on but with a smile on his face. Now that was unusual at this time in the morning.

"The hero has arrived!" Alfred flashed his younger brother a thumbs up before pouring himself a bowl and flopping down in the seat across from his brother. Matthew sighed, rolled his eyes and ate his cereal. No doubt that this was due to sleep deprivation caused by hours of playing CoD. He must have went back out and started playing again after Matt had fallen asleep.

"How late this time?"

"What do you mean, how late?" The older looked clueless. Yep, definitely sleep deprivation and CoD.

"How late did you stay up playing CoD last night?"

The older once again looked confused. "I went to bed at the same time as you Mattie. When do you think I played Call of Duty?"

"Well, I know it was later than me, else you wouldn't be so energetic, eh?"

"The hero doesn't lie! What do you think I was do-" The older paused, staring at Matthew's head and seemingly snapping out of it. "Wha's- What's up with your hair Mattie?"

"Eh? What do you mean, my hair is-" He stopped, realizing several things that had before now evaded his notice. One was that his voice had dropped in volume again, which made it surprising that Alfred had even heard him the first time. The second thing was the fact that he had said "eh?" twice in two sentences unintentionally when he's never done so before. The third thing was the curly hair he had hanging in front of his face.

He panicked a bit after his attempt to smooth it back in place failed.

Merde.