Polar Opposites
By Robin Gurl
Chapter 1

(So this is my first FACE fic..O.O it was seriously written at 2 am one night and when I woke up I realized how awesome it was, after a ton of feed back from friends. This story is being handwritten then typed, so updates may take a little longer, but from the response I've gotten on DeviantArt it's apparently worth the wait. Please be assured however that there is no FrUk, they merely get along to raise the twins. Yes I am aware that Matt and Alfred aren't really twins, but get over it, it's my story, I can put them how I want. :3)

I do not own Hetalia

Reviews are like my anti-drug. Stories get updated quicker when I receive them. (Case and Point, I'm about to update Russian Roulette with Chapter 6! :3)

"Alfred, really lad it's alright if you need to sit this one out." Arthur said, his eyes filled with genuine worry. The young country before him looked absolutely exhausted and out of sorts. Alfred wasn't usually one to fall ill either so to see him like this was different.

Alfred glanced at him with a half tired, half amused glance, "Ig, come on, I'm fine!" He was too tired however to dodge Arthur's left hand that came up out of no where to feel his forehead. He sighed rolling his eyes and waited for the all-knowing tsk noise to escape Arthur's mouth.

The awaited noise came a moment later, "You git, you should be in bed! You're burning up with a bloody fever."

"I have been for that past two days, I got bored and then r emembered we had a meeting – so of course I had to come."

Arthur felt his stomach knot up, "Why didn't you tell me you were ill? I would have flown right over to come take care of you."

The answer came and he wasn't expecting it, in fact it made his worry escalate. "Papa, said you were busy with business, so I took care of it myself, dude! I'm still alive, so don't worry!"

Alfred nor Matthew had called Britain or France Papa or Dad since they were little boys. Just hearing the lad call France "papa" caused him to choke. Still why hadn't Alfred let Matthew come over or even France? Between the four of them they knew Alfred was scared to be alone when he was ill, or at least that's how it was when he was younger.

"Pa- I mean Francis wasn't lying but I could have still worked from your home, it was just paperwork." Arthur sighed and pulled out one of the he chairs. "At least take a seat, you look like you're going to faint."

"Ig, I'm fine!"

"For me, sit." Arthur commanded.

Alfred sat down unsteadily and when he did the fatigue and exhaustion he'd been trying his best to hold in exploded. He undid the top two buttons on his uniform hoping it would help him breathe a bit better. It didn't, sweat also began running down the side of his face as he leaned back into the chair closing his eyes.

He heard Arthur sigh, "I told you, you needed to go home. Sorry lad but you look horrible."

"I can't," Alfred suddenly whispered. He blushed enough to where it made his cheeks seem even more flushed. He hung his head with embarrassment, "I'll…I'll be alone."

So Alfred hadn't grown out of it like England and France thought he did. Both the twins had been clingy to their adoptive parents as well as to one another up through their adult hood. In fact it had just been recently that they'd began doing things separately, mostly because Matthew had work and so did Alfred.

Though it seemed that while Matthew was still the same, Alfred had grown out of it in the past fifty years. Or so Arthur had thought up until now, he sighed stroking the sweaty blonde hair, pushing Nantucket out of the feverish blue eyes. "Why didn't you just say something?"

"Because, dude, we're. …we're always fighting…. I mean I know I broke away from you but Mattie did that to France and they are still close. I never wanted you to hate me, I just wanted to be my own country." The American visibly slumped after saying it; it was very obvious that he'd been holding that in for a long time. His defenses were low because of this sickness and he felt a couple of tears run down his cheeks out of frustration if nothing else.

Arthur found himself sitting down in the care next to the young country. At first he was feeling awkward since it'd been hundreds of years since Alfred had confided in him then his maternal instincts took over and he reached forward taking Alfred's hands into his own just like he used to when they lad was a boy and upset. "Alfred, lad, I've never ever hated you. I'm sorry if you've ever felt I have. Even when you broke from me, it wasn't hate, it was worry. I worry that everything will be ok and nothing bad will happen."

He felt Alfred's eyes on him and he continued, "Well I mean bloody hell you were still so young and wanted to go off on your own, so of course I was worried. I was dreading letters from over seas with news that you'd been hurt. Then to only realize it'd taken a month to get here so there would be no telling what state you'd have been in by then."

He smiled warmly into Alfred's direction, "Just like now with you being ill, I'm worried because I still love you. I raised you Alfred, I could never stop caring for you – the same with Francis, I'm sure we've been just trying to give you room to be your own person. Matthew has always been a bit shyer than you, so of course he's still close with us, he doesn't try to prove himself. But we'd love to have you close again, if you'd like – even if it's just talking with us, you'll always be my little boy."

The American smiled weakly nodding; he squeezed Arthur's hand not wanting to let go. His eyes closed and he sighed resigning to the fact that he was very sick and was only going to get worse if he didn't rest. "Iggy," He whispered weakly. "I wanna lie down, I don't feel so good." His voice sounded distant and far off, his grip faded on Arthur's hand.

Arthur's heart started to beat faster as he thought the worst then he realized the boy was just sleeping and sighed with relief. He started to go through his head of all the preparations he was going to have to take care of before they left. "Go on, take a nip, I'll call for us a car."

He watched Alfred sleep before walking out into the hallway walking right smack into someone. He opened his eyes growling, "Watch where you're – Francis."

"Oui, Angleterre, why are you here so early?"

"I could ask you the same question, Frog." Then Arthur stopped himself; he needed to be civil with the Frenchman for Alfred's sake. He held up his hands in defeat and sighed looking the opposite direction, "I'm sorry, it's been a trying day."

France's eyes widened, Arthur hadn't apologized to him in at least 500 years, not since they were together to raise the twins. "Alright you, what iz going on? You are never dis nice to me."

At first it didn't look like Arthur was going to respond then he did. Not in the way Francis had expected. He hugged France. "Blast it all if Alfred isn't ill, he thinks I hate him and that you are ignoring him. He's still afraid of being alone, terrified to death of it actually and all we've done is leave him alone." He then started to throw his fists into France's chest. France caught his hands and Arthur sighed tears pricked in his eyes, "I …I just don't know what to do, Francis. That boy is really hurting."

"Angleterre, stop beating yourself up over dis." France didn't seem phased that Arthur was upset and only tried to soothe the hurt deep inside.

"I can't." Arthur said, he buried his face in his hands for a few moments trying to regain composure. He felt defeated and tired, "I….I feel like we've let him down."

France sighed petting the blonde hair getting a glare from Arthur. "We never let him down, Arthur. We just let him grow, he's turned into a fine Gentleman."

"Who thinks his family hates him and doesn't love him anymore. Francis you didn't see the look in his eyes earlier, I haven't seen him this terrified since he was a child." France then pulled England into an awkward hug and Iggy being to exhausted let him for just a bit.

"Are you sure it's not just dat he is ill?"

"Positive." Arthur responded blushing hotly and pulling away from the other man. He shoved France's hands back and sighed, "He looked as if he'd burst into tears if I let go."

France himself was beginning to get worried as well, "He called me a week ago and asked if you were busy, I told him that you had your hands full with the new prime minister that was to be voted in and then offered to come over instead but he declined." His eyes narrowed. "He didn't sound right but I figured he waz just a bit tired."

"He's been alone and sick for that long? I'm surprised Matthew wasn't there, usually one can feel the other's pain." Arthur mused aloud leaning against the wall. He hung his head sighing, "What the bloody hell are we going to do? I've a terrible feeling something is wrong with Matthew as well."

"We will first take care of the son we got with us now. Alfred needs the both of us; let's not let him down. Then once he's situated and in your capable hands, I will go see about Matthew."

"No! Papa! Father!" Screams were coming from the twins' room; both Francis and Arthur ran up the stairs unsure about what was going on. It was midnight way past the children's bedtime, which meant it was most definitely a nightmare.

Arthur opened the door and heard little sobs coming from Alfred's bed. He watched as Francis walked over and carefully touched the boys head reassuringly, "Mon Cher, what is wrong?"

Two little arms reached out with another sob wrapping themselves around the adults' neck. With no other action available, Francis picked up the small boy and held him close. He started walked back to Arthur and then together the three of them walked out of the room so Matthew could sleep.

Arthur did watch the other twin for any sign of movement but got nothing more than a sleepy sigh as he curled close with the white bear he'd gotten for Christmas last year. Closing the door behind him he saw that Francis and Alfred weren't there, he decided they must have gone downstairs and so he made his way to the living room.

When he got there he saw Alfred sitting on Francis' lap wiping his eyes sleepily still hiccupping and sobbing. "Bu... But you were gone...you left me...you did…please Papa don't leave me….I won't be a bad boy I promise…Father left too…"

Arthur sighed pressing two fingers to his temples; lately these nightmares had been going on almost every other night and each time they got worse. He walked over and sat on the couch beside the two and almost immediately Alfred switched parents and climbed into Arthur's arms hugging him tightly. "Alfred, it was just a dream, lad. No one has left you and no one will." He stroked the back of the boy's head as little sniffles still came out but the crying was gone.

Francis joined in with the comfort and laid his hand on the small back rubbing circles in it, "You weren't a bad boy, you've been a very good boy. Don't worry."

Alfred just clung to Arthur still not wanting to let go. Arthur smiled and soothingly responded to the tight hugs with, "Now, lay your head on my shoulder and go back to sleep, I'll hold you for a little while longer." The tight grip Alfred had on his father slowly relaxed and Arthur felt him go limp, burying his tiny hands instead into the green sweater vest, gripping the soft fabric afraid to let go.

After he was sure Alfred was asleep Arthur glanced worriedly at Francis, "These nightmares have been going on for far too long, I'm really getting worried about the lad."

Francis had no other response but to nod knowing how the other nation felt. He helped Arthur stand up keeping a steady soothing hand on Alfred's back as the two of them walked quietly back into the twin's room to check again on Matthew. There had been no change thankfully and France gently stroked the side of the pale face then covered him back up.

In Arthur's arms little Alfred started to whimper again and the two adults sighed but walked back into the sitting room, realizing this was going to be another long night. "Shh, my boy, everything is alright, we're both here."

"He's right, darling, we're here."

"We're here Alfred, both of us." Arthur's voice broke through his sleepy haze and he opened his eyes to see Arthur and France both hovering over him. Was this a dream? It had to be, his adoptive fathers didn't get along anymore.

"You silly boy, next time tell me you are feeling ill so it won't get this bad, oui?" France exclaimed sighing.

Alfred realized this was indeed reality and he was still in the same chair he'd fallen asleep in earlier and in the conference room. The meeting, had slept through it? Aw man, he'd never live that down now. "The meeting..." He whispered, he was still really tired and wanted to go back to bed.

Arthur shushed him with a smile, "We've canceled the meeting and called for a car, it's on its way over here. Then it will drive us back to my house in London where you will be staying until you are completely well again."

Alfred nodded slowly trying to figure everything out. His head was spinning with questions he was too weak to ask. Instead he just smiled, his eyes half closed, his head hung down on his chest as he fell asleep again. He felt safe again, just like he used to.

"He looks peaceful again." Arthur said with relief. "He almost looks younger than he really is. I know he's grown up and a powerful country but I'll always see him as my little boy."