This was a request for DoitsuKitty on deviantART.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA

Matthew stood at the sink, washing plates. His brother had stopped by for breakfast, and they'd had a pancake-waffle feast. He had made the pancakes, and Alfred had made the waffles. They'd both agreed that the pancakes were better though, Alfred even going as far to say: "Your awesome pancakes are even better than my heroic waffles!", which was one of the highest compliments you could get from the American.

He could only assume the American himself was still in the kitchen, basking in the afterglow of Canadian pancakes with real maple syrup. He'd probably then look out the window at the incoming storm, Alfred had always loved storms…

Storms…

Matthew froze, looking up from the plates in the sink. It was coming closer, the grey clouds rolling in rapidly. Matthew grabbed his head in fear. No, no, no! Why today of all days? The thing he feared most just had to happen while he was in the company of his brother! He'd never live it down.

CRASH!

A young boy sat outside on a log in a garden. It was raining, but he had a red and white umbrella to keep him dry. The sky was a dark grey, but it was being lit up by pretty ribbons of light that disappeared as quickly as they came. The ribbons tried to speak to the boy in their deep rumbling voices, but the boy did not understand. The ribbons did not understand the language of the boy either, so a ribbon reached out for the boy, but missed, just touching his umbrella. The ribbon travelled down the metal handle, and into the boy's arm. The hairs on the boy's body stood on end, and he let out an ear-piercing scream. The storm and its ribbons recoiled.

CRASH!

Lightning crashed in the sky, and thunder rumbled menacingly, bring Matthew back to the present day; he wasn't a little boy any more. But still, he felt like one as he crouched down to the floor in fear. He'd heard somewhere that the lightning had a lesser chance of hitting you if you crouched down, or curled up. Kumajiro ambled past, unaffected by the storm, was pulled into his master's arms, and found his fur being cried into. Matthew was glad Kuma was used to this, and wouldn't make fun of him.

"Mattie?" came a voice from the dining room, "are you alright?"

"No," Matthew wanted to answer, but fear and embarrassment kept him from uttering the words. He also wanted to tell Alfred to leave, he'd dealt with this numerous times before, but he doubted his brother would listen. The storm would not let up, and Matthew was shaking.

"Mattie?" footsteps, a sharp intake of breath, he'd been seen. Matthew felt tears slip down his face in embarrassment, he knew he wasn't the stronger out of him and his brother, but he still didn't want to seem weak! He only felt weaker as he felt the strong arms of his brother wrap around his shoulders as Alfred sat down on the floor next to him.

"What's wrong Mattie? You have to tell the hero so he can make it all better" Matthew snickered at Alfred's seriousness, and the American gave him a toothy grin.

"So, what's got you all shaken up?" asked Alfred, concerned. Another bolt of lightning lit up the kitchen, and the thunder rumbled menacingly. Matthew let out a whimper and leaned into Alfred unconsciously. Alfred's eyes darkened in understanding. Contrary to popular belief, the Amertican was no idiot. How else would he have become a world superpower?

"Wait here," Alfred said , getting up, "I'll be back in two ticks" Matthew stood also, as if in protest, still clutching Kumajirou.

"Don't, I'm…" I'm scared. But Matthew couldn't bring himself to say the words. His pride still held him back, despite the weakness he had already displayed in front of the American. Alfred ignored the soft voice, however and left the room. Matthew sunk to the floor once more, in quiet despair.

"Aha!" a voice called from the other room "Found it!" What Alfred had found Matthew didn't know. Probably the keys to his car so he could leave. Matthew drew his head into Kuma's fur at the thought. Alfred had left him before, just because he acted lovingly to him just minutes ago, didn't mean he wouldn't leave. He was always left or forgotten.

Suddenly the Canadian felt a warm fuzziness over his ears and the noise of the thunder ceased. Earmuffs. Alfred had gotten him earmuffs. The Canadian was touched, and felt tears of happiness run down his cheeks. He leant towards his smiling brother, and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. They sat out the rest of the storm in silence, arms around each other's shoulders.