Okay! So it's time for some warnings:

Cutting, implied shota, implied incest, cussing

I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters.

Story however, is mine, enjoy~

The American Dream

A cute house, white picket fence, decent size family that loves each other, family outings on the weekends, homemade meals every night, these were the things that Alfred knew as a child. Alfred grew up with a pretty decent sized family, him, his brother Matthew, his father Arthur and his papa Francis. Alfred remembered how every day before Mattie was born him and Arthur would spend their time together. Playing, singing, watching clouds, going shopping for food, it was a great few years. Papa Francis was always away on work overseas and didn't make it home a lot, but when he did Alfred would light up and beg to play games like airplane. He remembered how he felt just like a super hero being so high up with his arms extended in the air. He felt as though the world was his and he could do anything. Life was just one big adventure.

Then Mattie was born. Alfred was so excited when he first saw his little brother, he wanted everything to do with him. He wanted to play with him, talk to him, hug him, try to carry him, it was all fun and games until Alfred realized that the cute little bundle was staying forever. Suddenly Alfred and Arthur couldn't spend all their time together gazing at the clouds like they used to. Now Mattie had to be involved, Mattie was the baby, Mattie was special. "Don't be rough on him Alfred! He's just a baby!" or "Alfred I swear if you make Mattie cry one more time I'll – " or even "For the love of God Alfred don't take Matthew's pacifier! I just got him to stop!" Arthur was tired all the time and it was all Mattie's fault. When Papa came home, Alfred had to wait for Mattie to have it turn, it wasn't fair. Alfred felt cheated from his happy life and he felt like Mattie was the one that had taken that all away.

"A- Alfwed!" Mattie screamed in delight as he clapped his hands as Alfred pretended to be a super hero fighting Godzilla from hurting the people of the city. It had been a couple of years and once Alfred had gotten used to the concept of a little brother, he didn't think it was that bad, actually it was kinda like having a sidekick around! Arthur was in the kitchen making dinner for when Francis would get back home. The family spent a lot more time together now that Francis' work paid for families to go with the workers who were away on extended leave. Currently the family was staying in Spain for a few years. "About three years" Francis had said to Arthurs questioning, "and then we can all return 'ome to the States."

It should be stated now that Francis was an immigrant from France and Arthur was from England, the two of them had met while on separate trips to America. However, due to the fact that neither of them could agree on whether or not to live in England or France, they ended up settling for America, why not? They always had business there anyway.

"Hola, me llamo Alfred!" Alfred smiled at his new class back in the States. After the three years in Spain, and only being five or six, he had picked up on the language quickly and could speak it quite fluently. Also, since schools in Spain were taught in Spanish, he really didn't have much choice in the matter. The only consequence was that his English, being that it was only spoken at home, was terribly butchered. Needless to say, the entire class looked at him like he had three heads.

Alfred suddenly became quite self-conscious as a few kids snickered at him. "Um… I mean… Hi, I'm Alfred." Retreating to the empty seat that his teacher pointed at, he sank down as far as he could into his seat. For the rest of that morning kids kept staring at him, giggling, staring, snickering, and pointing. Poor Alfred missed his happy classes in Spain where he could rattle away during class with his friends while the teacher wasn't looking.

"Bad marks! And in English too!" Arthur was fuming at the note Alfred's teacher had sent home with him. He wasn't doing very well in English, writing or speaking for that matter. "Alfred, that it's I'm breaking out the flash cards." And that's how the rest of Alfred's first grade year went, with flash cards.

"Okay honey, now what's this called?" Arthur asked as they were getting ready to go to the bus stop, holding up the picture of a rana.

"Um… F-frog." Alfred stuttered, he was never very sure of himself when it came to the flash cards, why did English have to be so hard?

"Great job!" Arthur beamed and Alfred's face broke into a huge smile.

"Dad, can you hand me my sweater blue? I want to wear that one today." Arthur gave a small sigh.

"No Alfred, it's 'can you hand me my blue sweater." It was going to be a long year.

Years later, after the extra English lessons for Alfred, dealing with the horrid 'Spanglish' that Mattie had incorporated into his speech (every word was either a combination of the Spanish and English equivalent or the boy would just use which ever word he found easier to pronounce, a lazy child really), the two brother's finally had their English down. The two of them had actually grown very close, from being the only two that spoke English in Spain, to being the only two to speak Spanish in their school in the States; they had formed a special bond.

"Sorry everyone, it seems that I burnt dinner again tonight." Arthur said as he put down a plate of something resembling food. Alfred, now 10, devoured his plate while Mattie, now 8, poked at his food. "Come now boy, if you don't eat you'll never grow very strong!" Arthur said to the small child. He was a very delicate boy, always getting hurt some way or another, by now he had already broken his arm, gotten major ear infections from swimming in a harmless swimming pool, and busted his lip open while playing harmlessly on a swing set. He was a magnet for the hospital, that one.

"Come on Dad, it's totally cool if Mattie stays like that! Sidekicks are never as strong as the actual super hero's anyway!" Alfred said with food in his mouth, pointing his fork at Matthew. Unlike Mattie's careful play that always ended terribly, Alfred did the most extreme stunts and had never gotten hurt. Arthur would always have to rope the boy down from climbing twenty feet up a tree, or pulling some form of dangerous stunt with a pointy object or poisonous animal. It was exhausting really.

"H-hey!" Matthew stuttered objection at his brother.

"Ohonhon! Look at mes petits!" Francis said as he walked into the house.

"Papa!" Matthew and Alfred yelled as they jumped out of their chairs to hug and kiss their Papa.

"You two are being nice to each other, non?" He said as he picked up Mattie, planting a kiss on his cheek as Alfred hugged him around the waist.

"H-how was work, Papa?" Mattie asked in a small voice as Francis put him down and Alfred planted a big kiss on his cheek.

"It was wonderful. But-" Francis walked over to Arthur, giving him a kiss on the lips, "I'm glad to be home." Arthur blushed while Alfred to vomit while Mattie laughed at his brother's antics. It was just another day, another perfect day.

Alfred was lying in his bed wide awake. He heard an odd sound coming from the kitchen, like something being dropped? Reaching over to turn on his lamp, Alfred quietly climbed down his loft bed. The noise continued as he slowly opened the door to the hallway, it seemed like it was coming from the kitchen. Alfred tiptoed through the living room until he reached the doorway to the kitchen. Peeking his head around the corner he saw Francis' form sitting at the dinner table. He was slumped over in the chair, the noise continued, and Alfred could see what was making the noise. It was Francis' wedding band. The Frenchman was gazing at his ring and spinning it like a top until it would spin out and lie still on the table. He would pick it up and spin it again.

Feeling a knot form in his stomach, Alfred snuck back into his room; the image of his Papa's defeated form forever imprinted in his mind. He had thought that something odd had been going on when Arthur had started to sleep on the couch.

"I don't think I love your Father anymore," Arthur said to Alfred, "Do you hate me?" Alfred gazed over at his Dad's pained expression, his green eyes welling with tears.

"No, I don't hate you." Alfred said as Arthur hugged him.

"Please don't tell your brother." Alfred stared at a spot on the wall, he felt numb inside.

"I think Dad and Papa are going to divorce." Alfred said to Mattie. He paused his game as his brother looked up from his book. They met each other with blank stares.

"Yeah…" Mattie said.

"I got this apartment in this lovely spot of the neighborhood you boys will just love!" Arthur had said to the two boys, "but you are both going to have to help me! I will not tolerate any complaining either!" They weren't divorced, just separated. Alfred couldn't really see them getting back together, he thought that maybe Mattie was holding out on that little shred of hope, but he wouldn't know for sure. The two of them rarely ever talked anymore.

Alfred was happy that they decided on living separately, or at least, that Arthur had decided to move out. The past few months had been hell. Every night ended in fighting, yelling, never anything physical, but there were no more loving kisses, no more warm embraces. No, Francis and Arthur never touched each other anymore. Those days were over.

In the beginning, before anything really seemed wrong, Alfred remembered his Papa cooking more than usual, it was always delicious and gourmet. They would all sit at the table, give their thanks, and then play a board game or card game after dessert. To 'have a strong healthy family' Francis had said, and Arthur had laughed, Alfred and Mattie joining in because it seemed so silly. Why play games to make them a happy family when they already were so great?

Mattie was always best at the games that required a good memory and more than just dumb luck. Mattie would win left and right and Alfred would get so frustrated when he would lose.

"It's not fair! Why does Mattie always win?" Alfred would always complain, his brother was so much more clever than he was despite his age. Matthew was also one of the smartest kids in his school. He was always getting top marks and making Arthur proud. Alfred always complained that the only reason Mattie did so well was that he didn't have to deal with bad English and such. Mattie would always just stick out his tongue and call Alfred,

"Dummy!"

Thinking back, Alfred could pin-point the downfall of his family. Arthur would swear up and down that the problem had started way back when Alfred and Mattie were just little boys, but Alfred knew better.

Alfred was about fourteen and Mattie, twelve, when Francis had to go out of town to the India on business for the summer. The goodbyes at the airport were the same as usual, filled with kisses and hugs, the two boys waived at their Papa from the giant airport window as he boarded his plane.

That summer Arthur met Antonio. Alfred didn't like Antonio. Arthur would always call Alfred and tell him that he was over at Antonio and Romano's. That was the first summer that Alfred and Mattie got the privilege of staying at home alone. It was pretty exciting; it made them feel like they were adults, out in the world to fend for themselves. Of course, if being in the real world and fending for themselves meant the trek from the couch to the fridge. Yep, Alfred and Matthew were their own men.

Over time Arthur started complaining that Alfred and Matthew never came with him to Antonio and Romano's. So one afternoon they went over to meet Arthur's new friends. They pulled into the driveway of the 'house', actually trailer would be a better phrase for it, with a larger house being built beside it.

"Here we are!" Arthur said excitedly as he and the boys got out of the car. A shirtless man with a tan came out to meet them. "Hey Antonio!" Arthur said excitedly as he pointed over to Alfred and Matthew. "These are my boys." Antonio's face broke into a grin as he walked over to the two boys. He grabbed Alfred's hand into a shake, "You must be Alfred! Arthur told me you were handsome, but I had no idea." Alfred hated the man immediately. He really had no reason to, but something didn't feel right. He contemplated this feeling while Antonio moved on to the quieter brother. Alfred shook off the feeling as he went inside and was introduced to Romano. Romano was a lot different from Antonio, he seemed angrier and not as laid back. Antonio just hugged Romano with a laugh while talking to Arthur.

Hours later, the sun had gone down, and Alfred and Mattie wanted to go home. Arthur was busy drinking with Antonio and Romano and kept saying, "We'll leave in a minute." Well a minute had turned into five, which turned into half an hour, and two hours later it was getting past time for the brother's bed time.

"Dad! Can we go home yet?" Alfred asked again, only to find a completely intoxicated person.

"Woul' yah jus' shut the bloody hell up?" Arthur fumed, another drink in hand, "We'll leave whene'er I bloody feel like!" Alfred stared at his father. He was totally wasted and laughing with his equally drunk buddies.

After another hour of waiting outside, already have exhausted all methods of entertainment, Alfred and Mattie finally saw Romano come outside holding Arthur's arm over his shoulder.

"Let's go boys! We're a gonna take you home now!" Romano called over to them. The brothers looked over to each other, exchanging surprised looks.

Upon arriving home, Alfred looked at his father and stated the obvious, "You're drunk."

"You can just shut the hell up!" Arthur yelled at Alfred, "'m not dumb, I go' a ride home! You don' know anything so fuckin shut up!" Alfred backed up as Arthur got in his face and pointed, he could smell the drinks on Arthurs breath.

Alfred and Mattie went to bed that night with the image of their trashed father plaguing their dreams.

"It's not my fault is it? Do you think it's my fault? It's all my fault, I never should have left your father, I was selfish. I did the wrong thing." Arthur sobbed into Alfred's shoulder. "Your brother never speaks to me and when he does he just says hurtful things." Alfred brought his hand up to smooth out Arthur's hair.

"It's not your fault."

The house seems lifeless and cold without Arthur around. Francis never cooked his food for the boys anymore, Francis never did much of anything anymore. The boys switched week to week between staying at the house with Francis and at the apartment with Arthur. Every week the boys went to the house it seemed to get worse. Francis did the dishes and kept the house relatively clean, but besides that he just went to work and went to bed. He spent more and more late nights at work. It was sad actually. The boys did nothing about it.

Actually the two seemed to have grown apart. Alfred ran from one obsession to the next, be it television shows, computer websites, video games, it was almost an impulse for him. Mattie shut everyone out, he mostly read books, wrote dark poetry (Alfred would find after snooping through the others room one day), and listened to music. The house was never bright, everything just seemed dull, the world turned into a blur. Alfred suddenly regretted wishing for a less conventional family. This wasn't as cool as it seemed in the cartoons he liked to watch.

"It's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault," Alfred said to himself one night as he looked from his wrist back to the safety pen he had in his hand. Back and forth, back and forth, contemplating what to do. "It's not your fault, it's not my fault, it's not" He let the point come in contact with his skin and he gave a little experimental cut. Nothing happened. This wasn't like he had seen in that show, where was the blood? This was supposed to make you feel better, right? He put more pressure into his wrist and scratched it, still no blood. Becoming frustrated Alfred started brushing the point harder and harder against his wrist again and again and again. He couldn't stop himself, he just wanted to see what would happen. He let out all his frustrations out on his wrist and then he stopped. Looking down, he saw the white scratches slowly turn red. It wasn't a lot like he had thought it would be, huh. Suddenly Alfred felt silly for what he'd done, but somehow better. Maybe it did work. Maybe next time he'd get the courage to actually use a blade. Just maybe.

"Matthew, I'm really concerned for you! You never do anything but stay in your room! Don't you see what you're doing to me?" Matthew just stared at Arthur, he'd stopped smilling a while ago. "So I've decided you're going to live with your Uncle over the summer so you can get out of your damn room and start doing something."

Matthew complained, but eventually he was sent off to live with his Uncle Ivan for the duration of the summer. Over the summer, Alfred got a job and worked to earn money for the extra stuff like horror movies and video games. They would get pictures of Mattie from Ivan, he seemed happy, and not to utterly pale. Hell, Mattie even looked like he was starting to gain some muscles in his frail little arms. Alfred just thanked God that he didn't have to work on Uncle Ivan's farm and that instead he got his sweet job working at a movie theater. Which actually sucked balls, but hey, free flicks and money was nothing to complain about.

After the summer ended, Mattie came home. He seemed a lot happier for about a week. And then he went back into his shell. Alfred didn't mind though, that was just how his brother was.

Alfred was fifteen and Mattie was thirteen.

"You need to set up a time to meet up with me and your father NOW." Alfred gazed at his text message on his phone. He slipped the phone back into his pocket. He'd call Arthur later, right now he had to get to class. It was his first year of college, he was nineteen and he was finally out of the house. He had been waiting for years to graduate and get out. However, thanks to his Dad he wasn't able to go anywhere too far his freshman year. He'd just transfer out after two years to go somewhere far away.

Far away. That seemed nice.

"Your father made some poor choices when I was away in India." Francis said to Alfred one day while they were having an awkward talk about what happened all those years ago. Not that Alfred had started the conversation, Francis had, he just needed someone to talk to. Surprisingly, Alfred never said anything during these talks. He had to listen to Arthur's cries and pleas for forgiveness and Francis' solemn talks about the past and his wishes that it had never happened.

"Uh-huh."

"I won't go into details, but that Antonio…" Francis stopped to look away, hatred raging in his eyes. Alfred looked to his Papa.

"I know Papa."

"He said that I was the end of his rainbow, Alfred." Arthur sobbed into the steering wheel. They were parked outside the apartment. It was years past that summer, Alfred was in his junior year of high school, seventeen. He didn't want to think about Arthur and Antonio, but he couldn't deny that there was something going on between the two.

"I love him." Bitter tears fell from Arthur's face. Alfred just stared at the broken man that was his father.

"He used to seem so big…" Alfred thought to himself.

"This is about your brother." Francis said looking at Alfred solemnly. Alfred sat at Arthurs small dinner table in his crowded kitchen with Arthur across from him and Francis to the side of the table to his left. "Mathieu told your father that Uncle Ivan touched him." Alfred stared at his Papa while Arthur's eyes welled with tears. Alfred looked from his Papa to his Dad.

"W-what?" Big, friendly Uncle Ivan?

"H-he told me that- that it was while he was asleep. He-" Arthur choked on his words and started to sob.

"The details are pretty graphic." Francis finished for Arthur. Alfred just stared. He should have called his Dad back right away instead of ignoring the text and making him wait. "We needed you to know because you may have to testify when this goes to court."

"Court?"

"And because this took place in two different states, it's going to get pretty complicated." Two different states? That means that – "The worst part is that Ivan was the only family that Arthur had left." Alfred watched as Arthur stared at Francis, as though he hadn't quite thought about that yet. Alfred didn't think that he had.

"We need to know though, did your brother ever… Did he ever touch you inappropriately?"

"N-no! Never!" Alfred said to Francis, looking shocked. Francis searched Alfred's face for lies, finally letting out a breath of relief.

Alfred's thoughts went back to the camping trip to the cabin that one time years before. He and his brother had decided that they both wanted to sleep on the cool second fool ledge, because it was like a tree house inside the cabin. Alfred remembered feeling Mattie's hand on his underwear in his sleep, he remembers batting the hand away muttering, "Pervert," before falling back asleep. Suddenly the icy feeling in Alfred's stomach grew.

I've seen the scars on your arms, if you're cutting yourself then you can always talk to me. I'll always be your best friend and you can talk to me about anything! Just remember that okay? We're graduating! Ve~ Alfred's stomach dropped as he read the graduation letter from his Italian friend Feliciano. They were required in English class to write letters to all their classmates, it just so happened that he and his best friend were put into the same class. Alfred had taken to cutting after eighth grade, but he thought it was a little silly so he stopped. Then out of pure boredom he decided during his senior year of high school to pick it back up again. This time he would prove he wasn't a sissy. He'd use a real knife.

He'd gone into the kitchen that first night and grabbed one of his Papa's sharp cooking knives. His hand had been shaking at first, not from fear, no. Rather, it was shaking because Alfred knew that this wasn't what normal people did. Normal people didn't decide to cut themselves for the hell of it, if anything they did it out of extreme self-loathing, not boredom.

"Well, it's not like I want to kill myself, I just want to see…" And he brought the blade down. It stung. "What a pretty color…" Alfred let his mind wander to the cut, his hand no longer shaking, his stomach no longer in knots, everything was fine. He was just fine.

"Is Zombieland playing at the theater?" Mattie asked Alfred. Alfred paused his game to look up to his quiet brother.

"Hmmm, I think so." His face lit up, "Do you wanna go see it? I can totally get us in for free!" Working at a theater had its perks, and after working there as long as Alfred had especially.

"Yeah. Lemme go get ready." Mattie said as he walked back into his room, closing the door. Alfred jumped up, game forgotten, and went to grab the giant theater mug and popcorn bucket so that they could get free concessions. He couldn't remember the last time he and Mattie had done anything together!

"Ready." Mattie said as he walked out the door and to the car, Alfred running to catch up behind him. They got to the theater just in time, Mattie went ahead to pick out the theater seats while Alfred got the popcorn and soda.

"Best part of the movies!" Alfred winked to his co-worker and practically skipped to the auditorium. The movie was hilarious, scary, and the two brothers had a great time. The usually silent Mattie was cracking jokes and everything on the walk back to the car. Alfred chattered away on the ride back, almost hitting the car he was tailing, and Mattie laughed as he quoted the movie.

Then Mattie drew a zombie vampire smiley face on the fogged up window of the car. It looked ridiculous, "Hey, no fair Mattie! Do you know how long that'll be there?"

They laughed the entire ride home.

"Ahahahahaha!" Alfred laughed almost hysterically as he looked at his arm. The red lines crisscrossed up and down his forearm. He stood in his dorm room, laughing, and laughing, and laughing. He had to use the scissors from his desk, he had to wait for his roommate to leave, he had to go into the community bathroom stall to do anything of the sort in private, he wanted to see more. He just wanted to see the pretty color; he just wanted to forget everything but the little lines up and down his arm.

He'd been dreaming earlier, everyone was there, Papa, Dad, Mattie, Uncle Ivan, everyone was happy, it was Christmas and everyone decided to forget everything to celebrate the holiday. There was so much laughter, so much love, it was perfect. Alfred had woken up with a warm feeling in his chest, only to realize that, for the first time in his life, everything had really fallen apart.

He had gotten out of bed, fumbled around quietly in his desk for his scissors so as not to wake his roommate, and gone into the bathroom. He locked the stall and sat on the toilet staring at his arm, staring at the scissors. This wasn't normal, he couldn't stop shaking, he couldn't stop the tears.

"Just one cut." Alfred thought to himself as he opened the scissors.

"I think your brother's doing a lot better, Alfred. He's been talking to me more and being social. I'm so happy." Arthur's voice sounded through the phone. He still lived in the apartment, Matthew was going through his junior year of high school and Alfred was experiencing his first years at college. Francis found someone that really made him happy and he got married again.

"Ah mon petit, you 'ave to wait for the right one. Your soul mate! It's so much different than what I felt with your father." It was nice that Papa wasn't a zombie anymore. He was really someone that needed love and to be with someone. Alfred wasn't mad, he was happy, Papa had needed this.

"So how's finding a job going Dad?" Alfred asked over the phone to Arthur, he had recently quit his job without looking for a new one. Already he had almost been evicted on multiple occasions, causes panicked phone calls from Mattie and reassuring calls from Francis.

"Ah… It's going pretty good, I'm doing some work helping out Antonio with his job." Alfred frowned on the other side of the line. "But it's good money! And I got a job cleaning houses… I know it's not the most noble work, but work is work." Alfred sighed.

"I know Dad." Arthur was still single, confused, and often talked about drinking the beer he could never seem to afford. The line grew silent for a second from Arthur's side.

"I'm on food stamps now. Please don't tell your father or brother." Arthur was a man of pride, or at least, Alfred liked to think there was some form of dignity left in the man.

"I won't Dad." Alfred was the one everyone went to. He was the one Arthur went to when he was sad, or happy, or needed to talk, he was the one Francis told all the monetary problem to, divorces were pricey after all, "I'm sorry Alfred but you're going to be on your own for college, it took all the money I had saved, so that your father wouldn't have to live on the streets." Sometimes the truth hurt. Sometimes it surprised him, but Alfred learned to deal with it. Life happens, it goes on, and that's all anyone can do.

So I hope you all enjoyed this one shot! It's the first thing I've written in MONTHS. But I'm working on continuing and finishing my story "Check Mate" just in case anyone that watches that story was wondering! Reviews are loved~