Alfred tugged on Matthew's sleeve.

"Come on, Mattie. Let's go."

"Al, I don't think this is very good idea."

"Why not?"

"Father told us not to leave the house without permission."

"You don't have to listen to him all the time." Matthew didn't respond, just pursed his lips nervously. "Come on, Mattie. It'll be fun. We'll just listen to some people talk about things then come right home." Matthew avoided eye contact. Alfred smiled, he was close to giving in. "If you don't come, then I'll just go by myself. Think of what trouble I'll get in then."

"Fine, I'll go."

"Yay! Come on, Mattie!" He practically dragged the boy out the door. Alfred couldn't help smiling again, now once he listens to all the speakers, he'd agree with my ideas and then we can both run away together, get our independence, and then it would be just us two, just the way it used to be.

Alfred led Matthew through a complicated route through Boston and into a small pub on the side of town. Inside, Al was greeted by the owner like they had known each other for years. They went upstairs, Alfred still holding Matthew by the hand like he was scared that Matthew would run away if he didn't. Through a bookshelf entrance, Alfred and Matthew came upon a large conference table with rich looking scholars inside.

"So Mattie, this is the Continental Congress."

"The what?"

"It's our congress. We needed representation and Arthur wouldn't give it so we made our own."

"You built your own system of government?"

"No, well, at least not yet. First we have to get our independence from Arthur. But we have some ideas."

"Al, why?"

"Because I'm tired of being under England. None of my people have freedom, Arthur thinks he can tax me as much as he wants, we have no representation. I'm so tired of it. We all are. And we don't have to stand for it."

"Al, you have the least taxes and the least restrictions of any colony. You're Arthur's favorite. What can't you have under England's rule?"

"Freedom. Mattie, don't you remember? Before all those European countries were here and we could do whatever we wanted. We could run and play. We didn't have to worry about some enormous responsibility. We weren't ruled by someone else."

"I remember, Al. I just have no desire to go back to those days."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"I don't have to tell you. Anyway, let's just get this over with so I can go home."

"Fine." I couldn't believe Alfred would do this, rebel against Father for no reason. Why? Doesn't he understand how good he has it? Doesn't he understand that Father loves him more than anyone else? Father would never abandon him yet he was close to abandoning me. What's so special about him? Everyone loves him more than me.

/\

After having propaganda shoved down Matthew's throat for the next three hours, people were finally leaving the meeting. Although the speakers had been charismatic and it had been tempting, Matthew stayed loyal to Arthur. Alfred seemed disappointed that he hadn't managed to convert Matthew. They reached the home and immediately noticed that the lamp in Arthur's office was on. They looked at each other nervously, Matthew blaming Alfred. They walked to the front door, fearing that Arthur would be there.

Alfred opened the door, nervously and snuck inside, they were heading up the stairs close to their respective rooms when a voice came from behind.

"Where do you think you two are going?" They guiltily turned to look behind and found Arthur standing behind them. "Where have you two been?" When neither answered, he continued. "I know exactly where you've been. You've been devouring propaganda against England. After all I've done for you, you repay me by- by this treachery. And you, Matthew, I would expect your brother but not you. Aren't you grateful for everything I've done?"

"I'm sorry." They both stuttered out. That was the routine. Neither Alfred nor Matthew would take the blame so it would be shared between both of them. This situation was more advantageous for Alfred as he was in trouble much more often but Matthew was so thankful when he spilled his glass of milk on one of Arthur's books that neither got full punishment. They were brothers, nothing to do with country relations or nations, and brothers stuck together.

"Matthew, I want to see you in my office," he ordered sternly. "Alfred, go to your room." Alfred slinked off and Matthew crept into his office, hoping that if he stayed quiet, Arthur would forget he was there. "Sit down, Matthew," he said from behind. Matthew sat down in the chair in front of the desk. Both Alfred and Matthew knew it as the Trouble Chair. Alfred was in it a great deal more. When Arthur shut the door with a thud, Matthew jumped. Although Arthur was their parental figure, he could be very formidable when angry. He walked and set down in the chair, glaring at Matthew as he did so.

"Now," Arthur said. "You're going to tell me everything."

/\

Three days after that fateful excursion, life had resumed normalcy. Arthur had left for work, Alfred was still leaving the house regularly, and Matthew was trying to stay in the library as much as possible and be good. Late that night, Matthew was in bed. He had tried to wait up for matthew and make sure he got home safely but it had gotten late, and after, Matthew had started falling asleep in his chair, he had gone to bed. When Alfred entered the house, he was fast asleep. When Alfred entered his room, he didn't respond. When Alfred punched Matthew in the side of the face, he woke up.

"Wha- Alfred!" Alfred punched him again. He was expecting Matthew to react somehow punching back, crying, anything. Just not nothing. Alfred watched him with quiet acceptance. Wanting him to react he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind him.

"How could you betray me?" he hissed, venomously in his ear. "We're brothers. That's supposed to be unbreakable." Alfred wanted a response; Matthew refused to give him one. "Do you know what happened to the man at the bar? Because of you, he died. The Brits caught him and executed him. If you don't feel bad for betraying me, do you at least feel the tiniest bit for the man. He had a family, you know. A wife, two kids. They might not survive now. All because your England's little pet." With a crack, the bone gave in and shattered. Alfred let his arm go, jumped of the bed and walked out. Matthew sat there, sleep a forgotten notion and involuntarily replaying the scene in his mind.

When dawn broke through this window, he knew Arthur would be awake soon and make his arm feel better. When he heard the noises of Arthur constructing poison(Read: cooking) and heard Alfred leave his room and trek downstairs, Alfred knew that he would notice soon. He wasn't going to find him with Alfred in the house. It wasn't until the end of breakfast where Arthur spoke,

"Alfred, where is your brother?"

"No idea. I'm leaving now." He ran out the door, stuffing a piece of bread into his pocket that he had pilfered from the counter(one not touched by Arthur's cooking). Arthur sighed and went upstairs. When he opened the door to Matthew's room, he was probably least expecting Matthew to be sitting on the bed, eyes in tears, his arm swelling and purple in some areas.

"Matthew, what happened to you?" (Years ago, he had thought to put name tags on the doors so he did not persist in calling Matthew Alfred).

"Alfred."

"Why would Alfred do this?"

"He was upset. You know why?"

"When?"

"Last night."

"Why didn't you come get me?"

"I didn't want to wake you up." Arthur shook his head; he would never quite understand this colony.

"Of course, you don't. You don't bother." Arthur looked at him, not thinking he had spoken aloud. "You didn't." Arthur looked at him in perplexity for a moment, now noticing the two developing bruises on his face. Then he jolted back to the present. He had an injured colony, no, son on his hands and he didn't have time to worry about Matthew's moments. Arthur had the basic knowledge of how to treat a broken arm and for a nation, an injury of that sort would take only about two or three days to heal, inconsequential in the life of a nation. The biggest thing to worry about is the mental trauma especially for a young nation from being hurt by his brother.

Arthur wondered about the strange bond the two had sometimes. They had been inseparable most of the time, getting into trouble, hanging out. Sometimes though, they would stay completely apart. Arthur would usually find Matthew hours later, either reading in the library or sitting in a closet or some equally strange place in the dark just sitting there. Alfred would be found exploring outside either muddy or leaf covered or both and usually with some animal or another. Arthur felt a twinge of regret, the boys had never fought before and now it was his fault. He didn't think Matthew had fought back though, chances are that if he did, Alfred would also be sporting a bruise. The boys are near equal in strength. Alfred's older now though. Arthur had noticed him growing in the past decade or so. He would now put Alfred about ten months older both still thirteen though. Over the centuries nations had grown quiet proficient at telling ages as one could age five years overnight.

They went downstairs and found Arthur's supply of medicine and bandages he used quite a lot. He quickly treated Matthew's arm and face.

"Thanks, Father." Arthur had to admit he was surprised that Matthew called him father. It didn't happen often. Matthew was uncomfortable with expressing his feelings and Arthur was well, Arthur. But Matthew still treated him like a parent, maybe not as expressive as Alfred, and Arthur loved him as a son so no real hindrances occurred. The big factor was Alfred. He was almost opposite of Mother, loud and exuberant. Ot was almost too easy to just thing of Alfred and shift Matthew to second. Also a problem was being brothers, maybe twins was that it was often Alfred-and-Matthew, not Alfred and Matthew. They were constantly grouped together due to their similarities and no one took into account their differences. But that was all going to change now that Alfred was getting rebellious and Matthew was remaining as loyal as ever or maybe more so. Arthur was even more surprised when Matthew leaned over and gave him a hung. Matthew wasn't one for contact and overall, Matthew was the only person who could grab Matthew's hand without him pulling away. Matthew had let Arthur hold his hand a couple times but he had always been the one to instigate the contact. But Arthur couldn't remember when or if Matthew had hugged him last. Matthew pulled back and walked off, muttering something about Kumachi.

/\

I managed to get past 1,500 words, actually to 1,800. YAY! I'm trying to do that with all my chapters from now on. Wish me luck!

So this is my headcanon of the time leading up to the revolutionary war and how the revolution affected the relationship between Matthew, Alfred, and Arthur. I dramatized it a bit, because, well, angst is fun!

Yes, Matthew has issues expressing himself. It makes sense in my headcanon and well I think you'll get a hint next chapter why.

Alfred is much smarter than he acts. He just acts immature. Again, headcanon.

Arthur loves all his colonies. He just has favorites.

On the whole aging thing, I have the opinion that countries age as they grow, not just politically but economically, and culturally. Basically there's a huge mess of factors. But I felt that Alfred would be about 16(you know teenagers) when he rebelled. Matthew's younger than him now because he's starting his own government(P), trying to take control of his economy(E) and so on with PERSIA(its an ap european history concept. see below.)

P-Politically

E- Economically

R- Religious

S- Social

I- Intellectual

A- Artistic

For the record the title comes from a Thomas Paine quote. I thought it fit.

"But such is the irresistible nature of truth, that all it asks, and all it wants is the liberty of appearing."

Anyway, this is a really long author's note. I think that's it.

Please review! and tell me what you think of the characterizations. :)