Author's Note: So this is my first Hetalia fanfic. I apologize if the characters are OOC, I wrote this after I took a five three hour tests so needless to say I was tired at the time. This is just a oneshot but if there are enough reviews and requests I may be persuaded to extend it. Anyways, I apologize for any and all grammar mistakes and if there are commas where there shouldn't be and if they are not where they are needed, I have trouble with those little suckers.
Warning: Depressed Canada! Semi-serious America! Country and human names used though human names are mostly used during family moments. This is not Americest! Merely brotherly love that is all!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!
The boy hisses in pain as the knife draws blood from his pale skin. It hurt, god did it hurt, but to him it was a way to relieve himself of all the times he had been forgotten. For all the times his brother had yelled at him threatening to call cops if he didn't get out of his house, for all the times his father had forgotten all about him in the middle of their conversation, and for all the times Russia had sat on him during World Meetings. 'Yes, the cuts hurt,' Canada muses while watching his blood slide down his arm, 'but my life hurts worse.'
His door creaks open slowly and the Canadian quickly stashes the knife under his pillow and pulls his sleeve down wincing slightly as it brushes the open wound. A small fluffy face peers into the room and stares intently at the Canadian.
"Who are you?" the bear asks tilting its head to the side.
"I'm Canada, your owner," he replies blinking back tears. 'For all the times Kumajiro forgets who I am,' he thins bitterly.
"Oh," was all the bear said. "I'm hungry, feed me!"
Canada glares half-heartedly at his pet but gets up and shuffles to the kitchen. "What do you want, Kuma?"
The little bear starts running in circles chanting, "Fish and maple syrup!" Canada chuckles lightly and mentally gags. He himself loves putting maple syrup on almost everything, including his coffee, but the thought of it on fish sounded repulsing.
"Alright give me one second." He carefully pushes his sleeve back up and tends to the wound. He places a band-aid (decorated with his flag) over it and begins to drizzle maple syrup on a frozen fish.
"Dude, I know how much you love that stuff but that's disgusting!" The irritating voice of America wafts through his house along with the smell of greasy, artery-clogging hamburgers.
"Ah!" Canada jumps dropping the plate on the floor. "A-America! What are you doing here?" He stammers. America grins and slides up onto his counter, tossing a bag of McDonald's at his brother.
"Being a hero and saving your life with a Big Mac, bro!"
"That wasn't for me that was for Kumajiro," Canada says softly. He refrains from making the comment about a Big Mac saving his life and is about to ask America why he was there when he noticed he was gone.
"Mattie! Bro, where are ya?" His brother's voice was coming from his living room. Canada gingerly picked his way past the bear eating the fish and entered the living room. America was peering behind his curtains and calling his name.
"A-Al, I'm right here," he stuttered noticing the bat (where'd that come from…) the American was clutching. He quickly grabbed a pillow off his couch knowing what was about to happen. Just as predicted America turned around and raised the bat.
"Who the hell are you and what did you do to… the guy who lives here?" The American growled getting ready to swing.
"I'm Canada!" He shouted, though it came out at a regular volume. "I'm your brother, Matthew!" The younger cowered with tears streaming down his face. He knew his brother would never purposefully hit but when he didn't remember what he looked like… well let's just say that he wasn't a stranger to the first aid kit.
America raised the bat over his head ready to beat the crap out of this house intruder (hide yo' kids, hide yo' wife, hehehe) when his brain registered who it was. Matthew was crying, his face red and splotchy, while hiding behind a pancake-shaped pillow on the floor. 'Aw, hell, not again,' America thought dropping to his knees and placing the bat on the floor. He could hear is brother muttering "maple" and "I'm Canadia."
"Mattie? Hey, I-I'm sorry, bro, I didn't mean to scare ya," he apologized awkwardly.
Canada peered up through his glasses to lock eyes with America. He was shocked to see the genuine concern and guilt in his azure eyes. "It's Kay, Al," he hiccupped.
"No, it's not. I always do this. I'm a terrible brother if I make you cry and scare you all the time and forget about you," America replied forcefully. He then did something that surprised the both of them. He scooped up Matthew in his arms and hugged him. Canada was shocked. Alfred hadn't given him and actual hug in years, not since the whole burning the White House business in 1814.
That simple gesture made Matthew realize that Alfred forgave him for that. That he didn't care anymore about what transpired on that fateful day.
"Mattie, you know I love you right? I know it doesn't seem like it but I do."
Matthew couldn't hold his tears back anymore. A sob tore from his lips and he buried his face in Alfred's shoulder. He cried for everything that ever happened between them; from the good, to the bad, from their childhood to now.
Alfred held his brother tightly and gently rubbed his back. He felt terrible for making him cry. He couldn't tell if Matthew was happy or sad. He blinked and felt something hot drop onto his cheek. With his free hand he removed Texas and brushed his own tears away. More tears replaced them instantaneously and he allowed them to fall.
"I promise, bro, I'll remember you from now on," Alfred murmured. He was embarrassed to hear his voice shaking and he hoped Matthew didn't hear it. Matthew away when he spoke.
"Al, are y-you crying?" He croaked. The American's face turned bright red, reminding him of Romano's precious tomatoes.
"That's ridiculous! Heroes don't cry," Alfred replied forcing his voice to stop trembling. He glanced up out the window and was surprised to see the sun setting. 'Aw, shit, I'm gonna be late…' Right on cue his phone began to ring.
Matthew jumped at the noise and his brother shot him an apologetic look before answering his phone. "Hello, you are speaking to the Hero!" Matthew could hear England's voice through the phone. He seemed to be upset about something but then again he always sounded like that when speaking to America. Canada removed his glasses and gingerly wiped away his tears. America promised to remember him. Could he do it? Canada squashed the hope building inside him. He wouldn't remember. As soon as America would leave so would his memories of his brother. Canada refused to let himself hope he would because it would hurt him even more.
"No! That's ridonkulous, Iggy! I would never forget about movie night!" America feigned innocence. He loved getting on his old mentors nerves and if that meant calling him Iggy and butchering words he would do it! He ignored the British man yelling at him about proper language and glanced at his brother. Canada looked miserable and seemed to be having an inner battle. The American felt a pang of guilt thinking he had made Canada think he no longer remembered him. He placed his cell phone back to his ear.
"You bloody git are you even listening to me!" If you trash the Queen's language anymore I'm going to—"
Hey, England, do you mind if Canada tags along?"
"Who?"
"Canada, y'know, my brother?" America pressed wondering why he didn't know him,
"You have a brother?"
Alfred was getting a bit pissed off. How did England not know that? Sure, he himself forgot his brother but he didn't outright forget he had one. He just had difficulty remembering his name and what he looked like.
"Oh, oh him! Yes, he can come, too," England replied after a moments silence.
"Sweet! We'll be there in twenty minutes, dude!" Without waiting reply America hung up. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and returned his attention to Matthew but he was gone.
"Mattie?" He called out hesitantly. He remained where he was wondering if his brother really was gone or not.
"I-I'm in the kitchen, Al." Alfred sighed in relief and slowly got to his feet. He winced as his knees cracked.
"What're ya doin'?"
"Heating up some food. Kuma ate the burger…" Matthew replied pointing at the bear who appeared to be asleep.
"Cool. Dude, Arthur's having a movie night and we're going so don't bother with the food."
"Huh? But I have other things to do-" Alfred gave Matthew is best puppy dog pout and the Canadian felt his resolve waver. "Alright," he sighed. Alfred punched the air in victory and laughed.
"Awesome! Go put your pajamas on; I'll put away the food."
Canada raced upstairs hoping America wouldn't break anything. He silently pulled out a pair of flannel sweat pants, a t-shirt with a maple leaf, and a pair slipper socks. He quickly changed into his sleepwear and only when he was pulling up his socks did he realize the cuts were visible. He cursed aloud but was grateful that there weren't a lot of scars.
Being a nation had its benefits. You could get injured and feel the pain but in a matter of days or minutes (depending on the injury) you could be up and about like nothing ever happened. If you had a scar the doctors would say you'd have for the rest of your life it was gone in less than two weeks. The only thing was it didn't apply to scars they received in battles or from separating with another nation.
"Argh!"
Canada's head jerked up as his brother screamed again. He grabbed a hoodie off his bed and bolted down the stairs. "Al, you okay?" He called rushing to the kitchen.
"Get your damn bear off me!" was the only reply he received.
Kumajiro had been awoken when something stepped on him. He had sprung into action and had latched his mouth around a shoe. When a hand started to reach towards him he switched his target and latched onto the arm. Now he was being shaken about by an angry American.
"Kuma! Let, go!" Canada grunted, tugging at the bear uselessly. The bear tightened its grip and America let out another cry of pain.
"Sy um sr," Kuma growled.
"What the hell did he say?"
Canada's mind raced to figure out the grumbling. "Sorry," he exclaimed, "say you're sorry!"
America stared wide-eyed at Canada with a you've-got-to-be-shittin'-me face. He then turned his gaze to Kumajiro. "I'm sorry," he said dead-panned. Immediately Kumajiro released his arm, wriggled free from the younger man's grasp, and darted out the door.
"Damn it, he ripped my jacket," America complained.
"Sorry about that, Al. He's been acting up lately. This morning and a few times last week he scratched me pretty badly," Canada lied using his bear as an excuse for the self-inflicted cuts. If he could convince his brother then no one would question his story if they noticed his cuts (which he doubted). He showed America his arm and America let out a low whistle.
"Those cuts look deep, bro. Maybe you should get rid of it," America replied tugging him away from the kitchen towards the front door.
"Wha-? I c-can't do that. I mean he's just a bear, he doesn't know better," Canada stuttered closing and locking his front door.
"Doesn't seem like it to me," America muttered climbing into the driver's seat of his car. Canada stopped to admire it. It was a canary yellow Camaro, complete with black stripes and the Autobot symbol painted on the sides.
"Hurry up, Mattie! Iggy's gonna throw a fit if we're late!"
Canada quickly climbed in and buckled up. America started the engine and sped off down the streets. He told Canada to pick out a CD. Canada shifted through the pages of CDs in America's collection until he found the one he was looking for. It was a burned CD, one he had made for his brother a while ago. Canada smiled as he slid it into the CD slot. It was by a fellow Canadian who was popular in America. Canada began to hum along and before he knew it America was singing along.
"Hey, hey, you, you, I don't like your girlfriend!" The American sang (more like shouted) bobbing his head with the drum beat. He glanced over at Canada and raised an eyebrow expectantly.
"No way, no way, think you need a new one," he chimed in softly.
"Come on dude. Sing louder!"
Canada did and was able to (almost) match his brother's loudness with the next lyric.
"There ya go!" Alfred grinned and joined his brother. They sang along with every song that popped up (all by Avril Lavigne) until they pulled into England's neighborhood. The last song on the CD began to play and the smile on Matthew's face faltered.
You're not alone
Together we stand
I'll be by your side
You know I'll take your hand
Alfred noticed the lack of singing coming from Matthew. A frown ruined his face when he noticed the sadness in Matthew's violet eyes.
When it gets cold
And it feels like the end
There's no place to go
You know I won't give in
Alfred parked in front of England's house not noticing the other cars of other nations. He made to shut the car off but a strangled noise from the younger's lips stopped him.
Keep holding on
Because you know we'll make it through
We'll make it through
Just stay strong
Because you know I'm here for you
I'm here for you
Alfred realized the affect it was having on Matthew. It was making him depressed and Alfred had the urge to eject the disc and snap it in half.
There's nothing you can say
Nothing you can do
There's no other way
When it come to the truth
'There really is nothing I can do to make them notice me,' Matthew thought bitterly. He unconsciously rubbed the cuts on his arm ignoring the increasing worry on Alfred's face.
So keep holding on
Because you know we'll make it through
We'll make it throu-
Alfred had had enough. He invited Matthew to make him happy not depress him. "Come on, Mattie, we're here." He opened the door and climbed out, Canada copying his actions. They began to walk to England's door. Alfred wrapped an arm over Matthew's shoulder in a one armed hug and said, "Don't think I've forgotten my promise from earlier." Before Matthew could reply he threw the door open and yelled obnoxiously, "Iggy, the Hero and his Sidekick have arrived!"
"You bloody git! Don't call me that!" England yelled back. The two North American countries could hear the angry Brit coming towards them. America laughed and released his brother preparing to fight off his old mentor. A small smile couldn't help but form on Canada's face as his brother's promise echoed in his head even while his more practical side scolded him for becoming hopeful.
Please review! It really brightens up my day to hear all the wonderful comments and criticisms! Flames will be read and taken into consideration but will most likely be fed to Kumajiro!
This was longer but I had to pick a spot to end it where it (hopefully) makes sense so sorry if the ending sucks. Oh, and if this does get expanded I will include an OC of mine (I'm sure you'll be able to figure out who by looking at my penname).
Hasta la Pasta!
~Alaska Braginski