A/N: Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction ever, so I'm pretty nervous about going OOC...do let me know if I have. This basically came out of a picture of America and Belarus, and I had a 'What-if...' moment, but it's not completely Amebel...Do tell me what you think!

Disclaimer - I don't own Hetalia and anything related to Hetalia...if I did, though, I'd probably be the happiest person on earth, and this would be a part of mainstream Hetalia. It's not. So I'll have to deal with it.

My friend Natalia

Chapter 1

Natalia stood there, unable to move, unable to shake her head, unable to stop staring. The two brothers...she had done this. She had led to all of this.

She had to stop this.

Matthew let out a roar, his upper-cut connecting with Alfred's chin. She knew he was capable of this. Only she knew. Not even his own brother knew.

Oh, why oh why had she let this happen?

"You take my strenght, you take my fame, you take my very existence and put it to shame! But this time, you've gone too far, brother!"

"Matthew, shut up!"

Alfred was the better fighter there, and even Matt's rage couldn't erase that. Al's righter smashed into his cheekbone, threw him into the wall, but that didn't stop Matt. Matt bounced right back as if the wall on his back had been a cushion, and proceeded to bloody Al's nose.

Matthew, stop!

But she couldn't say it. The words wouldn't come out of her mouth, refused to come out.

Al blocked Matt's fist, kneed him in the chest, and gasped when Matt dragged him down with him. They grappled on the ground—Al for his life, and Matt for what was his.

This cannot get any worse! a small voice in her head screamed.

She heard footsteps, and her world began to spin. Without even realizing it, she slid down, face drained of all colour, head empty of any blood...She had to stop them before he arrived.

"Matt, stop."

He didn't hear her—he was too busy pounding Al's face for what it was worth.

"Matthew, stop!"

Her hoarse yell got his attention, and he turned to her. Al, taking his chance, buckled under Matt, and got to his feet, crouched and ready for anything Matt decided to throw at him.

"Alfred, stop it!" she yelled, trying to get on her own two feet, but it was like trying to take the support of a walking stick made of marshmallows. She staggered, fell on one knee, and got right back up, gritting at the pain that was shooting up and down her leg. She stumbled over to Matthew, and fell beside him, helping him sit up. Holding Matt's hand, she turned to Al. "Alfred, stop it! He's your own"-

"I don't need to hear anything from you."

The utter contempt and disgust in his voice made her flinch. The footsteps were getting closer. She couldn't let him see the brothers fighting this way. "He didn't mean to"—

"Nat, I meant every hit I threw."

Okay, wrong thing to say. He got to his feet, glaring at Alfred with rage that he'd always managed to keep inside, always managed to hide from everyone except her. She got onto her feet slower than usual, still a bit dizzy. "You two shouldn't fight like this!"

"You're one to say that. What do you care?"

"Yes, sister dear. What do you care?"

She froze in every sense of the word. Her blood stopped pumping and iced over. Her nerves stopped sending messages to her brain, and her brain stopped working, and her lungs frosted over, and she was unable to take any breath in, and—

"Natalia!"

Not even Matt, her dear Matt, could stop this now. She closed her eyes, and embraced the darkness as it rushed over her.

I forgot to bring lunch today.

Matthew looked at the bag next to his. It was his brother's. He never got lunch to school. He always ate at the school cafeteria. They all loved him. They laughed at his jokes. He was always smiling. He was always surrounded by people. Those people always smiled at him.

Matt sighed. Matt really didn't care. He always brought his lunch to school. His daddy was the best. He made the most dee-lichious food in the world. But he'd forgotten to bring his daddy's dee-lichious food, and now he had to buy some.

He didn't like the cafeteria. He'd always get picked on. His brother would save him, but sometimes he'd be too late. It wasn't his fault. The people wouldn't let him go. They liked Al too much. Al had to spend time with them, not with his scrawny, pipsqueaky brother.

Matt opened the pocket inside his bag. There was no money. He'd spent it on Al, buying him ice-cream because he'd gotten first place in show-and-tell. Matt sighed. He'd have to buy the free food.

This day couldn't get any worse.

"Next!"

Matt tried to look around Katyusha, but she was bigger than he was and he couldn't see what food they were putting. He heard slopping of food, and he winced. He really didn't like the free food in this cafeteria.

"Next!"

Matt stepped forward. He was too short to see the display. He couldn't see the food they'd prepared that day. He knew it wasn't as good as his daddy's, but he was very hungry.

"Next!"

He looked up. Involuntarily, his eyes teared up, and his throat closed around his breathing pipe. He couldn't even wipe his own eyes—he was holding that tray. He looked down, like he always did, when the black ball started to grow. He'd never seen it—it was too deep in his chest. But every time someone failed to see him, or notice him, or recognize him, the little black ball started growing in his chest. It grew and grew and grew until it became too big to hide. Matt would run away then, and curl up and say a little prayer his daddy had taught him to make the black ball go away.

But he couldn't go away now. He couldn't say his prayer. He was hungry, and the cafeteria lady couldn't see him.

The tears grew too big—if he cried now—

"Natalia, move front"—

"If you speak to me like that again, Eduard, I'll dock you with this tray! Can't you see the boy in front of me?"

Matt's eyes flew open. But the girl behind him didn't stop there.

"Hey, you ugly bat, can't you see this kid?" she snapped at the cafeteria lady.

"Watch your mouth, Natalia, or I'll give your share to him!"

He heard her inhale, ready to retort, but she cut off and spew something in a language he'd never heard before.

"Yeah, yeah, batty Natty—speak your filthy Russian. It ain't gonna do me no harm. You want some, kid, you're gonna have to step right up and give me your tray."

Matt was in a daze. He held his tray up and handed it to the cafeteria lady. He couldn't believe someone had noticed him. She had seen him. She had seen that the cafeteria lady had not noticed him. She had stood up for him. She had—

"Take your tray, kid, and move out."

He held up his hand, and took the tray. He turned around to thank her—

"Next!"

He quickly moved away. he had lost his confidence. He walked fast, his eyes scanning the room for an empty table in a corner. Finding one in a corner devoid of people, he slid his plate down the table, walked across and sat down in front of his plate. It was only then he saw what the cafeteria lady had slopped onto his plate. He quickly looked around, then turned back to the plate and stuck his tongue out it disgust. He couldn't even begin thinking what was on his plate. He reached out to the side, and froze.

He had forgotten to bring along his—

A plastic fork and a matching spoon slid across the table, hit his tray and stopped. He looked up.

"You forgot to take a fork and spoon, mal'chik. How are you planning to eat that...slop?" She screwed up her nose when she said 'slop'. He smiled.

Her frown of disgust slowly eased and, without even realizing it, she found herself smiling at him. She slid her plate down the table, and took her place opposite him. Without wasting any time, she dug into the very slop she detested. Amazed, he just stared, and watched her eat.

Feeling his blue eyes on her, she looked up. "What? You don't want me sitting here?"

Blushing at being caught, he quickly shook his head, his loose curls flying all over his head.

She smiled at him. "What's your name, mal'chik?"

"M-Matt."

"What? Speak up!"

His spine jolted straight at her snap. "M-M-Matthew Williams!"

She grunted, and turned back to eating her food.

He stared at his food. It was brown and looked disgusting. His daddy never made food like this. His daddy's food was the best. His daddy could never make food like this even if he tried.

"W-What's..."

"Hmm?" she looked up.

"W-What's y-your name?" he whispered.

"I can't hear you!"

"What'syourname?" he cried out in one breath, eyes squeezed shut and cheeks red.

She giggled. He opened his eyes, and let out his breath a little. He didn't even know he'd been holding it.

"Natalia Arlovskaya. I'm in your class."

"R-R-Really?"

"You sit next to that mal'chik...that loud boy, da? The one who doesn't keep quiet?"

Matthew giggled. "That's my brother."

Natalia blinked. "Really? You seem so much more..."

"Quiet?"

"Nicer."

He looked up at her, and saw her sigh with distaste, looking into the distance. "I have no tolerance for boys as loud as him. Or as rude. The tupitsa was rude to my sister that day. I don't like him."

Matthew blinked this time. Everyone loved Alfred.

Natalia looked at him. "That's his name, is it? Well, I don't like him."

He didn't realize he'd spoken out loud. "I...ah..."

"You better eat your food, Matthew. You don't want lunch to get over, da?"

He looked at his food and grimaced. Natalia burst out laughing, catching the attention of the people sitting at the surrounding tables.

"My daddy makes better food. I forgot to bring my box today. I don't want this."

Natalia took his tray, dumped half the food into hers and handed it back. "Eat that much. You don't want to be hungry later." She toyed with her food. "I don't have a daddy."

An idea suddenly struck Matt, and he looked up. "N-Natalia, i-if I asked m-my daddy to m-make food for both of us, w-would that make you happy?"

Natalia blinked. A smile bloomed on her lips. "Da. I would like that."

He grinned. "Friends?"

Natalia decided she liked his grinning face. "Friends."

"Daddy! Daddydaddydaddy"—

"Papa's coming, Matt." Francis Bonnefoy walked into the room, ladle in his hand, a scolding on the tip of his tongue. But when he saw how honestly happy the boy looked, he sighed and sat down on the sofa, picked up little Matt and sat him down on his lap. "You look happy, cher fils."

"I made a friend today."

Francis blinked. His younger son was shy to a fault, and he was truly surprised to know he'd actually gone up to someone and—

"Her name's Natalia Arlovskaya."

Francis felt his jaw unhinge and his mouth open slightly. His son had made friends with a girl?

"I ate lunch with her."

Francis didn't even feel his jaw falling onto his lap. Matthew Williams Bonnefoy ate. Lunch. With. A. Girl?!

"But she doesn't have a daddy like you who makes her lunch. So she eats the slop the cafeteria lady gives her. Daddy, can you make her lunch?"

Francis smiled. He finally saw where this was going. But still, he had to caution his sweet, naive child. "Matt, you're asking daddy to do extra work, making lunch for a girl"—

"She's my friend, daddy! She stood up for me and she got me a spoon and a fork and she ate"—Matt took a big gasp of air at that. Francis laughed and put a finger on his son's lips. "Alright, cher fils, I'll make lunch for your Natalia."

"Yay! Thank you"—

"Alfred, for the love of God, will you stop that unholy screaming for a minute of your life and sit down?!"

Francis and Matt grinned. Alice Kirkland, the woman of the household, loved her husband and both her sons to bits, but when it came to Alfred's screaming, she had zero tolerance and screamed right back at him.

"And she wonders whom Alfred gets that loud voice from," Francis joked, and Matt giggled. "Alice, mon cher, Alfred isn't home yet!" Francis yelled over to his wife in the bedroom.

Alice emerged from the bedroom, dustpan and brush in hand. "The who the he—oh, hello Matthew."

Matthew giggled at the befuddled expression on his mother's face. "Hi, mum."

Alice turned to Francis, who was grinning widely at Alice. "Your son yelled."

Alice turned blankly to Matt. She extended her hand slowly, pointing at Matt with the brush. "That son?"

"Oui. And this son also made a new friend. With a girl. And he—Alice! Alice!"

Francis quickly set Matt on the sofa and rushed to his wife, who'd fainted. As Francis shook his wife to consciousness, Matt called out to his father. "Daddy. Daddy!"

"Yes, Matt!"

He was distressed, but Francis also realized that Matt would never call out to him, not unless it was urgent and necessary.

"Daddy, don't tell Al about this. Please."

In his arms, Alice stirred, and Francis let go of the breath he'd been holding. He got up, swept his wife into his arms, and walked to the bedroom. He lay down his wife in bed, and pulled the covers over her. After checking around if she had everything she might need, he walked out, headed to the sofa, and kneeled next to the arm. His son scooted over to the arm of the sofa.

"You don't want Al to know about this?"

Matt shook his head vehemently. Francis could understand why, even though he didn't like the reason. Still, he didn't give his son two weeks before he himself let Alfred know about his new friend. But if his son didn't want him to tell anyone about his Natalia, then that was the way it would be.

"Aright, cher fils. Alfred won't know from me. And I'll tell your mama to keep our secret, alright?"

Matt nodded, and smiled sunnily. "Merci, Père." Francis planted a kiss in his son's soft curls and walked into the kitchen to check on their dinner.

Matt sat on the bed, exhilarating restlessness filling him.

This was going to be so much fun.

"Sister Natalia..." Shaking with fear, Ravis took the risk of knocking the door of his sister's room again.

"What is it, duratskiy?"

Ravis flinched. He hated it when his sister spoke like that, disgust and venom spewing from her voice. "Big Brother wants to speak to you."

Ravis heard footsteps and stepped clear out of the way. Once he'd stood right in her way, and she'd knocked him down, spewing curses as she stormed past. Even in her best moods, she didn't fail to pick on her younger brothers and make them miserable.

The door flung open, and Natalia marched out, sparing a glare for her brother on her way out. With a sigh of relief, he decided to go out and make himself scarce. He didn't want himself in the house when Big Brother decided to speak to Natalia. The fights they had were legendary.

Natalia frowned as she walked. She always frowned. Especially when Big Brother decided to talk to her. That meant arguments. She mentally prepared for the long, tedious and nerve-wracking lecture she was about to receive for something she probably hadn't even done. She didn't even bother trying to figure out what she'd done; she'd rather wait to hear it from Big Brother. She usually didn't have to wait for long before he came out with it, but he'd drop little hints here and there. Having lived with Big Brother for so long, it wouldn't take her long to discover exactly what it was he was saying.

She walked up and stood in front of his door. He was the only one in this desolate place who had his own room. The three boys shared a tiny room that held two cots joined together, a table-and-chair and two cupboards, while she shared an equally tiny room with her sister that held two cots joined together, a cupboard, a table-and-chair and a vanity table that was probably fourth- or fifth-hand. Ivan Braginsky, the oldest of the lot, had his own room.

She knocked on the door thrice, just the way he'd taught her to. "Big Brother Ivan, it is Natalia." She was always to address him like that. She couldn't throw the door open, or call him only brother, or say something incredibly stupid like, "It's me." She was always to say, "Big Brother Ivan, it is Natalia." There were rules, and breaking those rules had consequences. Natalia knew all those consequences, and had learnt them the hard way.

"Come in."

She took in a deep breath, like she always did, and opened the door just enough to let her inside, and quickly shut it behind her. Big Brother's room was the only room that had a working heater—the others had to make do with worn-out quilts and body heat. He didn't like the cold coming in.

"You called me, Big Brother Ivan." Again, another rule that had been laid.

"Yes, Natalia. You didn't have lunch with us today."

Something inside her went cold. Her brother had taught her well how to school her features, but she wasn't as good as he was—while she could maintain an expressionless face, her brother could project a face of ambiance even in cold murder. That was the strength of her brother. "Yes. It was his first time in the cafeteria, and he looked lonely."

"I see." She couldn't see her brother clearly, but could clearly hear his thoughtful hum-he always hummed when he was thinking. "Do you like him?"

The cold part of her froze, but her expression didn't falter for a second. "I don't know him well enough. He seems alright."

"He seems alright...I see. Well, that's all."

She blinked. Her expression changed to confusion, but only for a moment. Her expressionless facade came right back on, and she nodded. "I will leave now, Big Brother Ivan."

He nodded. She felt his clear dismissal, and made her way to the door.

"Natalia?"

"Da-Yes, Big Brother Ivan?"

"This friend of yours...do let me know more about him."

The frozen part of her grew darker and colder. "Yes, Big Brother Ivan."

"You may leave."

Natalia walked out, closed the door quickly behind her, and walked as fast as she could to her room. The floorboards creaked, and her brother would know if she was running, and she didn't want him to know she feared him. She reached her room, opened the door, shut it behind her, and dived into bed. Curling up into a ball, she wrapped the blanket around herself, and let the dark, cold part of her reach out and ask a question.

Is Matthew Williams going to be in danger?

A/N: Well, that's the first chapter...you know, at this stage, I haven't even decided the name yet. If you're searching for a Natalia Arlovskaya/Belarus who keeps running to her brother for marriage, you've come to the wrong place, 'cause clearly, Ivan Braginsky/Russia is the scarier one here. The Natalia in my head isn't really like that, and I'm sorry to all those who saw the Belarus tag and went-"Okay, she's going to scare the freaking daylights out of Russia. Yay!" Well, no.

I'm not too clear about the ages, but Matt, Al and Nat must be in elementary school. Ivan, I think, is in high school. Francis and Alice (obviously) are married...I love BL, but I thought I'll have a Fem!UK here...makes things more interesting...hehehehe. I have eee-vil things planned out for her (okay, it's just PMS).

Well, I'll most probably be continuing this, so do hope for more! And let me know what you think!

Love,

R. K. Iris.

P.S. : Check out my profile on Fictionpress-the link's on my profile. Thank you!