It was a Sunday morning, and all was quiet. Rain pattered soothingly against the windows as the sun rose unseen beyond the curtains covering them. Not a creature was stirring, save for a few mice and a small boy creeping through one of the bedrooms towards the occupant of the bed, a bowl of ice-cold water in his hands and a mischievous grin on his face as he threw it at the sleeping figure.

"SURPRISE, JERK!"

"BLOODY HELL!"

And that was how Arthur Kirkland's morning began.

-

Ten minutes later, the echoes of Peter's laughter could still be heard around the house as Arthur shuffled into the utility room, dragging his sodden pillows behind him. Figuring they could wait a few minutes- until he'd had some tea, at least- he left them there and padded towards the kitchen. He had barely reached the hall, however, when a loud knocking on the front door stopped him in his tracks, and he turned to see a tall figure outlined in the frosted glass panes.

Great. As if having Peter to stay wasn't nightmarish enough. Arthur grumbled under his breath as he went to unlock the door- it wouldn't do to leave Alfred outside on a day like this, after all.

"Finally!" Was the greeting he got when he opened it. "What took you so long?"

"Alfred, you were only knocking for a couple of seconds," a voice from behind him reproached. Arthur looked around Alfred to see Matthew struggling up the steps to his London house, dragging a pair of suitcases behind him. Arthur felt somewhat relieved- the younger of the brothers was usually able to keep his elder sibling in check, or at least somewhat quieter than otherwise.

"But it felt like forever because it was raining." Alfred told him, grinning down at Arthur. "By the way, is it alright if we come to stay for a bit?"

"If you what?" Arthur mumbled blearily.

"Stay. With you. For a couple of days, maybe. All the hotels around here are way too expensive, you should see the prices!"

"Well..." It was true, after all, although Arthur didn't doubt that Alfred's government could probably have footed the bill, credit crunch or no. "I don't see why n-"

"Awesome! Thanks Arthur!" Alfred beamed, taking that as his cue to enter. "This place hasn't changed in forever, dude, you seriously need to do some redecorating! And who's-"

"Jerk Arthur, who's that?"

Dear God. Alfred hadn't even been there five minutes and already Arthur could feel a headache coming on. "Peter, meet Alfred. Alfred, this is my younger brother-"

"The glorious uber-micro-nation of Sealand!" The boy announced. "And I'm gonna be an empire some day!"

Alfred stared at him, nonplussed, as Arthur bent to help Matthew with the suitcases. "Who?"

"You jerk!" Peter looked scandalised. "Everyone knows about Sealand!"

"...oh, I get it. That concert place Fall Out Boy wanted to go to, right?"

"And I'll use it to be recognised as a real Nation! Through the power of music-"

"Dude, are you even listening to yourself? You sound like some crappy evil guy in a low-budget movie!"

"How dare you? The glorious nation of Sealand will one day rule the world, and you'll be the first I subjugate, jerk!"

Alfred howled with laughter- Peter, in response, with anger. As the two continued to argue, Matthew gave Arthur a sympathetic look, and asked "tea?"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Would be wonderful, thank you."

-

Hours later, with the rain showing no sign of letting up, Alfred was bored and just a teensy bit scared. Annoying Arthur was only fun up to a point, and that point had been crossed after he'd switched the salt with the sugar just prior to Arthur deciding to make himself yet another pot of tea. And no, he was not trying to find a place to hide now that he seemed to have flown into a homicidal rage. Really. He was just playing hide-and-seek with himself, that was all.

Anyway, for an old house, Arthur's place really didn't have that many places to hide that weren't either really dark or really cold. Having combed the lower floors for suitable places to escape his one-time mentor, he was beginning to get a bit bored of looking. Arthur's shouts weren't letting up though, and so he tried the door to his left anyway.

The room it led to was small and looked fairly abandoned. The walls were bare, with a small window letting in just enough light to see by, and a closet in the corner looking slightly menacing in the shadow that the sunlight didn't reach. He was about to turn around and look for some other place to hide when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Suddenly the closet looked a good deal more inviting, and without further ado he scrambled inside. It was a bit of a tight fit, but if he curled in on himself, it just about worked. It was cold though. There was a draft coming through from somewhere at the back, and he turned to see a tiny ray of light peeking between the old, mothball-y coats hung up around him.

Before he had a chance to find out what it was, however, the door to the room was opened. A moment later, the cupboard doors were yanked open too and Alfred whipped his head back around to see the kid from earlier staring at him.

"You jerk! Get out of my hiding place!"

"Your hiding place?" Alfred repeated incredulously. "I found it!"

"I found it first!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Bloody hell, will you both shut up?"

The shout sounded scarily close to them. The pair exchanged glances for a moment before the kid spoke, sounding more than a little freaked out. "Can you budge over a bit?"

"Yeah, sure." Alfred shuffled backwards, allowing him to scramble in and pull the doors, leaving them in the semi-darkness. They sat in silence for a minute before the kid spoke again.

"What's that? There's never been no light in here before."

Alfred looked over his shoulder at the glimmer behind the coats. "You hide here often, then?"

"Pretty often. Jerk Arthur... well, he never actually does anything bad, but it's better to be safe, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

There was silence again, then, "So are you going to see what that is or not?"

"Course I am! You just distracted me, is all." Alfred protested, turning back to peer through the coats again. He pushed one aside, then another, then another. Eventually there were too many for his arms to hold back, and several fell back on the kid, who gave a muffled, indignant yelp as they hit him squarely in the face. "Sorry. I swear this thing wasn't so big from the outside though."

"No, it wasn't." The kid sounded a bit curious now, though mostly annoyed. "Or it shouldn't be anyway. But this is jerk Arthur- he has weird stuff lying around."

"Yeah." Alfred snorted. "Did you ever see that weird toga costume he used to keep in his study?"

"The one with the wand? Tried to burn it one year for Halloween, as an exorcism-thingie. He got so mad, I got no scones for a month."

"Isn't that kind of a good thing though?"

The kid thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "Not really. Everyone else said that, but I think- well, they're not that bad really, if you have jam on them and stuff..."

"Lots of jam."

"Well, yeah. But still." Alfred had to admit it was a valid point. He pressed no further, instead choosing to push through even more coats towards steadily strengthening source of light ahead. The draft blew through the closet again and he shivered.

"Is it me or is it getting really cold in here?"

"Just a bit, yeah." The kid said. He was shivering a bit, Alfred noticed. For a moment, he debated whether or not to give him his jacket- then he remembered he'd left it in the kitchen, and that they were currently in a closet full of coats.

"Here," he said, yanking a couple off their hooks and handing one to the kid, who muttered a 'thanks, but no thanks' as he dropped the mothballed item of clothing on the floor. Alfred 'hmph'ed. "Fine then- suit yourself."

Well, actually they did smell kinda bad. Alfred shrugged off the half-put-on coat he'd been tugging along his arms (it'd definitely not been made for someone his size) before continuing the crawl forwards. His arms swept aside a fur coat, a leather one, another leather one, a woollen one, and finally one that was covered in snow.

Wait, what?

He peered at the arm of the 'coat' he'd just pushed to one side to find that it wasn't a coat at all, but a snow-covered branch. But how on earth had it gotten inside a closet?

"Wow..." The kid breathed, and Alfred finally looked up to see that the closet wasn't a normal closet at all, but a passageway to somewhere that was quite definitely not the heart of Yorkshire. Fir trees clustered around the opening they were in, weighed down heavily by snow and ice Beyond them was a clearing in which snowflakes were falling almost lazily to lie on snowdrifts that had to have been at least a foot deep already.

The kid was first to react properly. He dashed out into the cold, almost knocking Alfred over in his haste (and that was no mean feat), before hugging his arms and shivering even more. Alfred picked up the coats that now seemed like a pretty good idea, and held one out to him. The kid took it gratefully, although he pulled a bit of a face at the smell as he put it on. Before long they were both flinging themselves into the snow, laughing and doing their best to hide the fact that they were making snowballs from each other. Eventually they both turned to throw them at the same time, and by complete chance, the things hit each other in mid-air and exploded in a shower of white. They both laughed, having entirely forgotten any previous enmity between them, and bent to make some more.

Amidst the chaos of the epic snowball fight that ensued, neither of them noticed the figure moving towards them until one of Alfred's snowballs hit him square on the nose. "Ouch!"

The voice was high-pitched, and accompanied by several thumps. Alfred and the kid turned to see a man sitting in the snow, having evidently just been knocked down, with several parcels lying scattered beside him. He rubbed his nose, looking up at them like a kicked puppy. "Ve- that hurt!"

"Oh! Sorry- didn't see you there, Feli!"

"It's okay," Feliciano told Alfred as he helped him up. "But... ve- I'm so very, very sorry, but do I know you?"

"Know me? Of course you do! I'm Alfred, remember? And this is..."

"Peter."

"Peter! You remember us, right? Or have you hit your head on something a bit too hard lately?" The explanation was met with a blank look. "Alfred? Peter?"

"...ve, I don't think I ever knew anyone called Peter, or Alfred..."

"Yes you do."

"I don't"

"Stop getting your knickers in a twist, jerk." The kid- Peter- snickered. Alfred glowered over at him, noticing for the first time the oddity protruding from the ground next to Peter.

"You know Russia will come and get you if you stand by that tap too long, right? Come here and help us out!"

"Who's Russia?"

"Ivan Braginsky?"

"Him! Oh..." Peter seemed to remember something, then shuddered and hurried over. Alfred grinned. However much of a pain his enemy was, he could still come in handy from time to time.

As he was to pick up the next parcel, though, he didn't notice the way Feliciano's face went white at the mention of his name.