A/N: Hello, people! Happy Father's Day!
Just to let you know (if the summary hadn't been very thorough), this is kind of a reversed-role story. I've read many stories where Francis was Matthew's older brother or father (same goes for Arthur and Alfred), yet for some reason, I've never come across a story where it was the other way around. I had the sudden need to rectify that. After all, in the world of fanfiction, anything is possible! Which is why I decided to write this fic. This means that everyone's roles will be flipped. For example, while Ivan will still be the middle child, Natalya will now be the oldest and Yekaterina (or as some people like to call her, Katyusha) will be the youngest. This goes for everyone except Matthew and Alfred (their ages will still be canon- well, they won't be centuries old, but the age difference will still be there). Oh! And another thing! Cuba doesn't really have an "official human name", so I just called him Carlos in this. Why? Because Carlos.
The first chapter is, admittedly, pretty bad but I hope that you find it at least satisfactory (you probably won't, but one can dream, da?). It's also pretty short and this author's note is probably as long as the chapter ha (please ignore my pathetic excuse of a joke). I'll only really continue this if anyone's interested, as it was just a little muse of mine that wouldn't get out of my head. I'm pretty much an amateur at writing, so any kind of feedback is welcome, including constructive criticism. I strive to improve, after all :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Chapter One- Burgers and Brothers
One month.
It had been one month since the woman he had loved had passed away. Over the past long, torturous, terrible month, he'd struggled to raise their son as a single father- hell, he was still struggling. Not only that, but on top of trying to raise a child properly, he was constantly tired. Exhausted. Knackered. Between juggling a job, raising a kid, coming up with enough money to pay the rent and the bills, the blond man had his hands full and hadn't had a moment's rest. It was excruciatingly hard balancing all these important priorities alone- the death of his wife had come as a major blow and a huge shock. It had shaken Matthew to the very core and he had started to have huge doubts about whether or not he was mentally (and physically) capable of raising his child. If his brother hadn't convinced him otherwise, Matthew was sure that he'd have burdened other people with making them bring up his son.
After having been convinced by his brother to raise Francis, Matthew still hadn't been completely sure that he could do this- that he could actually raise his child all on his own. But somehow though, by some miraculous stroke of luck, he was doing it. He wasn't, for lack of better word, fucking it all up. Sure, he'd been forced to make massive sacrifices along the way, but so long as his son was happy and healthy, Matthew was content.
"Mattie. Did you hear what I just said? Maaaaaattttieeeeeeeee! Are you even listening to me? Hey Mattie! I'm talking to you!"
Well, maybe not content exactly. But something similar. After all, how could a man who recently lost his wife be content? Matthew wasn't one for moping about and completely losing his way (in his opinion, at least), even if it had been rather tempting during the first few days after his wife's passing. Still, with the help of those who loved him dearly (who was he kidding, nobody loved him), Matthew managed to pull through and suck it up for the sake of his only child.
"Hey! Mattie! Listen to me!"
A pair of fingers snapped in front of Matthew's face and the man in question snapped out of it. He stared at the brown and yellow blob that was seated across from him and frowned. He took his glasses off and started wiping the lenses with a handkerchief (he never used it anyway and Matthew was absolutely certain that it was clean).
"Hey, dude, you okay? You kinda zoned out for a minute there."
Matthew placed his glasses over the bridge of his nose and blinked, focusing on his brother, "I'm fine."
"You sure?" Alfred's face looked genuinely concerned and it really touched Matthew that he would be even the slightest bit worried about him.
"Positive."
"Here, have a burger," a large cheeseburger was thrust into Matthew's hands before he could even politely decline, "it tastes great."
Matthew glanced down at the cheeseburger before setting it back down on Alfred's tray, "No thanks, Al. I'm not really hungry."
"Not hungry? Dude, you have to eat! We're at a restaurant!"
"We're at MacDonald's."
"Yeah, which is a restaurant!" Alfred exclaimed as his hand swiped the chocolate-flavoured milkshake off the table. He brought the straw up to his lips and started slurping loudly. He seemed to mewl in delight, much to Matthew's slight amusement.
"Well, like I said. I'm not really hungry. Maybe later though, eh?"
Alfred attempted to pout with the straw still in his mouth, "You need the energy though!"
Matthew smiled softly, "I've got enough energy to get me through the day, thanks. Besides, I had a big breakfast."
Alfred immediately stopped slurping and put the milkshake down. His expression turned serious as he said, "A big breakfast? A big breakfast?"
Matthew rolled his eyes. Here we go...
"A 'big' breakfast isn't enough, Matt, not nearly enough! You're a grown-ass man and you need as much calories as you can get!" Alfred ignored Matthew's frown and continued, "Skipping meals isn't gonna make you skinnier; it'll only make you feel worse! Believe me, I know."
"You've never skipped a meal a day in your life."
"I have so! Remember that time when I was thirteen? Some kid called me fat and I skipped meals for an entire day!"
Matthew sighed, "No you didn't, Al. It was Carlos who did that."
"Oh yeah. Wait, who?"
"Carlos. The Cuban kid in our class. He used to hate you, remember?"
"Oh yeah. How'd you remember that?"
"He's a good friend of mine."
Alfred quipped, "I thought you had no friends."
"Thanks, Al."
"No, I'm serious; I really thought you had no friends!"
"I know that."
"You know you have no friends?"
"No, I know that you thought- you know what, nevermind. Let's just change the subject, please." Matthew almost pleaded. Chatting about his non-existent social life was not something he particularly liked. Of course though, his brother ignored him.
"What I'm trying to say is that starving yourself won't help with whatever you're going through."
"I'm not going through anything, eh."
Alfred gave him a look, "Don't bullshit me, bro. I know the past few weeks have been tough on you."
Matthew was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable and he had a certain feeling he knew where this was going, "I'm fine."
"Yeah, that's what you've been saying every day for the past month. Every. Single. Day. Or you know, that's what I imagine. This is the first time I've even seen you in days. I get that you're busy, but you could at least pick up the damn phone from time to time."
Matthew threw Alfred a guilty look, "You know what? I think I will have that burger." Matthew lifted the cheeseburger off his brother's tray and took a bite; he almost spat it out as soon as he did. That tasted awful! How could Alfred eat this?
"Something's different about you, Matthew. You've changed and I'm getting a little... well, worried about you. I'm starting to think you need help."
"Help?" Matthew echoed, choking the words out as he bit into the burger again and chewed slowly.
"Yes."
"I don't understand- I've been doing very well. I go to work, I cook, I clean, look after Francis- I'm doing great."
"No, Matthew you're not. You look like shit! You're an absolute mess. Just look at you!"
Matthew turned his head to the side to face the window. Staring right back at him was a sorry-looking man with mussled blond hair, droopy eyes with dark rings under them and impossibly pale, chalk-like skin. He did indeed look terrible, "It's not that bad." he mumbled, trying to reassure himself, but Alfred didn't hear him. Turning back to face his brother, Matthew queried, "So you're saying I should get professional help?"
"Yes."
Matthew took another bite and forced himself to swallow; he instantly regretted it. His stomach rumbled lowly and he started to feel a little sick. He placed the burger back down and pushed it away from him, "I think I've lost my appetite."
Alfred ignored him, "I know exactly who's going to help you."
"Who?" Matthew asked softly and quietly, not really giving a maple about who Alfred had in mind; he was just being polite. He didn't need any help and he wasn't going to get any. No one had offered before and he was perfectly fine on his own. He wasn't going to go see a shrink, or a therapist, or whoever it was that Alfred wanted him to see. Telling him that he needed help simply because of his appearance seemed pretty ludicrous to him.
"Me!" Alfred exclaimed with a bright grin. The change in Alfred's demeanor almost made Matthew do a double-take. Almost.
"I should've known..." Matthew muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing." Matthew sighed, "Why do you want to 'help' me?"
"Because you obviously need my assistance. In fact, this was the reason I brought you here."
"You brought me to MacDonald's so that you could tell me that I need help." Matthew stated blankly.
"Exactly! Well, that and because I was hungry. For burgers. And now, I'm about to tell you a truly amazing idea that I'm sure you're simply dying to hear!" Matthew expected Alfred to explode from excitement judging by the way he was acting, "I'm going to... wait for it... LIVE WITH YOU!"
A few heads whipped around to face them due to Alfred's enthusiastic bellow, but Matthew paid them no attention, "Excuse me?"
"I'm going to live with you! Isn't that exciting?"
Alfred's statement was met with utter silence on Matthew's part. Surely this was some sort of joke?
"Come on! Aren't you going to say something?"
Matthew remained mute.
"I mean, my rent's gotta be paid in a few days, so... now's the time to flyyyy~!"
No response.
"I bet you're only quiet because you're dying of excitement!"
The silence was quickly starting to stretch far and wide.
"Mattie!"
"Yes?" Matthew immediately responded.
"I'm going to live with you!"
"So you say."
"Aren't you excited?"
Matthew watched Alfred with conflicted eyes. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? Was he just supposed to refuse his brother's offer? He could offend Alfred if he did that. Was he supposed to just accept it and invite Alfred to live with him? That could prove to be problematic in the future. No, scratch that- it was a problem right now. He couldn't afford to house Alfred. And what of Arthur? "What about your son?"
"What? Speak up."
"I said, what about your son?"
"Oh, he'll come too of course."
Matthew suddenly deflated. How would he be able to look after two children and an Alfred? He had work to do and he doubted that his babysitter would be very happy with looking after three kids. "This... this is a joke, right?"
"A joke? Of course not! Oh, how you insult me, dear brother!"
"So you're... serious about this?"
"Duh."
"Why?"
Alfred smiled, "To help you out, of course."
"To help me... out?"
"Well yeah."
Matthew forced himself to smile back at Alfred. How was he going to tell his brother that he would be more of a liability than a help? How was he supposed to tell him that he would just make it that much harder for him? "What, er... what would you do?"
"Well, I figured I'd just stay home and help out with the kids."
"Kids?"
"Yeah, kids. Arthur's gonna be there. I just told you that."
"Oh. That's right, you did." Matthew awkwardly turned his head away to stare at some of the customers waiting for their orders. He drummed his fingers on the edge of the table before musing, "Huh. Didn't peg you to be a stay-at-home dad."
Alfred shrugged, "Eh, I'm not good with work. Work is awful. And boring. I'd much rather stay at home- in fact, I already do. Part of the reason why I got fi-" Alfred stopped abruptly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What were you just going to say?"
"Nothing." Alfred repeated, shifting his eyes away. That man was a terrible liar...
"Alfred..."
The elder brother released something between a groan and a sigh and threw his head back, "Oh alright! I got fired, okay?"
"Fired? Al-"
Alfred held up a finger, "Don't start, Matthew. That job was fucking awful and my ex-boss was mental. If I hadn't been fired, I would've quit."
Matthew started weakly, "Al..."
Alfred shook his head, "I don't want to hear it, Matt. What's done is done."
The two brothers sat in silence and Matthew couldn't help but wonder what the hell Alfred had done. Just a few weeks ago, he'd been bragging about his job at Subway and about how he got to eat what he wanted (which he wasn't technically allowed to do, but Alfred wasn't really one for following rules). Then again, that had been a few weeks ago... before she died...
"Could... could you at least tell me what happened?" Matthew broke the silence softly before he could take a trip down memory lane... a trip he really didn't feel like going on right now.
Alfred averted his gaze and turned his head to the window, his arms behind his head and his hands supporting it, "Not right now. Maybe later."
"Alright then. But... if you're unemployed now... and if your rent's due in a matter of days, then... doesn't that mean...?" Matthew paused, finally fitting the pieces together. It finally made sense, why Alfred wanted to stay over. He was just going to use Matthew's apartment because he didn't have the money to pay for his own anymore. After all, Alfred had always complained about money problems. Really, in light of this new information, Matthew didn't know whether to feel relieved or angry. Relieved because Alfred didn't think he was a loser who needed 'help' (at least, Matthew hoped he didn't) and angry because he was just using him and his apartment. Although in truth, Matthew didn't know if he had it in him to be angry. At least, not right now. "Oh. I see."
Alfred's eyes flickered over to his younger brother and he (surprisingly) seemed to pick up on what Matthew was thinking, "It's not like that; I mean it is, but it isn't. I really do want to help out, Matthew."
Matthew didn't say anything, instead opting to bob his head.
"I mean, I might have the money to pay the damn rent, but then I won't have any for video games, and Arthur..." Alfred trailed on, staring at Matthew pitifully. Matthew looked right back at him, his will beginning to crumble. It was just- Alfred looked so damn pitiful and just plain sad.
"I-I could lend you some money, I suppose..."
Alfred's puppy-dog expression was wiped away in an instant, "No! I mean, that sounds cool and all, but I'd rather we just stayed with you!"
Huh. It wasn't like Alfred to say 'no' to money. "Why?"
"I already told you. I could help out. I could look after Francis while you're at work-"
"-he has a babysitter-"
"-I could clean and... and cook!"
"You're a terrible cook, Alfred."
"That's mean, Mattie."
"Sorry." Matthew apologised.
"Besides, I'm an awesome cook. I can make burgers!"
"That's all you can make."
"I can also make hot dogs!"
"Mmm, burgers and hot dogs every day. Delicious."
"I know, right?"
"I was being sarcastic, Al."
"Sarcasm doesn't suit you."
"I know. I'm sorry."
Alfred waved it off, "It's okay. I forgive you. So..."
"So...?"
"Is it okay if Arthur and I come live with you?"
Matthew's gaze dropped to the table. He could be the bad guy and be completely honest- tell Alfred that he would rather give him the money (he couldn't let his brother live on the street, after all) and continue living life without any 'help'. Or he could be the good guy and lie- invite Alfred over and tell him to stay for as long as he needed (wanted). Matthew didn't want to lie, but he also didn't want to be mean. Besides, it wasn't just Alfred he had to take into consideration- it was Francis and Arthur, too. Those two did not get along. Still, though... Matthew couldn't bear the thought of his brother and nephew living off of charity money and just barely getting by. He sighed. There was only one option then...
"Alright."
Alfred must not have heard, because there was no whoop of pure joy that followed.
"Alright, Alfred. You can come." Matthew repeated a little louder (but not too loud).
"What...?"
Matthew sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, "Do you need me to repeat that for you?"
"Are you serious? You'll really let me and Arthur stay?" Arthur and I, Arthur and I, Arthur and I...
"Yes...?"
...And there was Alfred's whoop of pure joy. "Oh, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!" Alfred exploded into a dozen sparkly stars that flew out of the restaurant and into the bright sky. Matthew smiled at him.
Alfred grinned, his eyes twinkling, "You won't regret this, bro!"
I hope not.
After a few more minutes of Alfred dancing in his seat and singing (much to the annoyance of everyone else in the restaurant, with the exception of Matthew, who was merely an amused on-looker), Matthew wondered what time it was. He looked down at his watch and cursed, "Maple..."
"Huh?"
Matthew's head snapped up, "I have to go."
Alfred's previously cheery countenance fell, "What! Why? I thought this was your day off?!"
"It is."
"Then what's the problem?"
"I need to pick up Francis."
"But it's Saturday." Alfred pointed out.
"I'm well aware of that, thanks. I need to take him to the dentist. He has an appointment in a little less than an hour. If I don't go get him now, we'll be late. Come on, I'll drop you off at your apartment."
"Oh. Hey, I'll come with you!"
"Obviously, I'm dropping you off-"
"No, I meant I'll come with you and we can both take Franny to the dent-!"
"No." Matthew shot down immediately.
"Come on! It'll be great! It'll be like uncle-nephew bonding time or something!"
"I'm just taking him to the dentist, Alfred." Matthew stood up and grabbed his jacket.
"And so will I!"
"No, you won't. Besides, don't you have your own son to get back to?"
Alfred huffed, "Hey, Kiku's taking good care of him right now. Arthur really needs to spend more time with his uncle."
"Kiku isn't his uncle-"
"Yes he is! You take that back right now!" Alfred 'lightly' punched Matthew's forearm.
"OK, I take it back... you didn't need to punch me."
"Sorry. Now let's go!"
"Alfred-"
"Nah, nah, nah, I'm goin' with you!"
"You know what? Fine. I don't have time to argue with you. Just get in the car." Matthew relented and looked on as Alfred ran over to Matthew's red car with a giant whoop. He couldn't believe he had just allowed Alfred to live with him and allowed him to come to the dentist with Matthew and Francis (although really, there was nothing particularly wrong with the latter one- it's not like he could really do anything there anyway). God, he was such a pushover.