Summary: September 3rd, 1783. Madeline reminisces on her family getting broken up little by little. FrUk, FACE Family.

A/N: This is my first Hetalia fanfic, sorry if everyone is a bit OOC and it doesn't make sense in some parts. It goes back from present to past to present in Maddie's point of view.

September 4th, 1783

Madeline sees. It was late. The night wasn't dark at all. It was filled with lights and sounds. Filled with people laughing and celebrating the end of the Revolutionary War. America had won. It had won against the mightiest empire of all time. Great Britain. Of course, it hadn't come without some losses.

Madeline thinks. If it weren't for this war, maybe her family would be together. Maybe then Alfred wouldn't hate their mother with a burning hatred. Maybe then their father wouldn't have left them for a French woman, a woman so much more better at being a housewife than Alice will ever be. A woman supportive of her husband and son.

"I do not need room for women like you, women who hold their power on everyone in the family," he had said, before leaving for good, leaving dear Alice, her darling mother, in tears, sobbing on the floor. She was plenty old enough to remember this, at the tender age of 17.

Francis had asked her to come with him and his new wife. She refused.

Madeline supposed that Alice wanted their little family to stay intact, with no one going off to war, with no one leaving her.

She remembers it all started with Alfred.

December 16th, 1773

It started out happy, Maddie remembers. Happy as their little family can ever be. Francis cooked breakfast, as always. Alice can never cook, even though she made amazing tea. She almost burned down the kitchen once, when trying to make dinner. Alfred and Francis had a good laugh over that.

It was mid-afternoon when things started to deteriorate.

Alfred was heading out.

It all went downhill.

"Alfred, where are you going? It's mid-afternoon, it's going to get dark soon."

"Ma, it's fine. I'm going…"

Alfred had hesitated, making Alice more than alert for lies.

"Alfred, don't lie to me. Tell me where you are going?"

"Ma, please. This is important business I can't tell you"

"What kind of important business is it that you cannot tell your own mother?!"

"Important things that has to do with the independence of Ameri-!"

Alfred looked like a mouse caught by a cat. He had said too much.

Maddie remembered Alice's face the clearest.

Her face was frozen in a state of shock, realising that her only son was helping those scoundrels.

"I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO GO! THEY ARE- THEY ARE PEOPLE AGAINST THE CROWN," Alice screamed, knocking her chair down.

Alfred didn't take that too kindly.

"I will go, whether you LIKE IT OR NOT! I am 19! I think I can make my own decisions, Mother."

Francis had tried so hard to stop Alice from exploding in Alfred's face.

It failed miserably.

Alfred had stormed out in a hurry, his once pleasant looking blue eyes darkening in a flash.

Maddie had vaguely wondered if this was the end of her family's happiness. How right the past Madeline was. How right she was.

Francis stood up, and ran after Alfred, trying to save the relationship between mother and son that probably has more than a few cracks in it.

And Alice? Well, Alice went upstairs to the master bedroom, probably thinking about Alfred and how he really is going to help those Sons of Liberty.

Madeline couldn't help but shiver at the way Alfred called Alice "Mother".

It had been more than a few years, but that moment had hit her hard.

Alfred stopped calling Alice his typical, Alfred-y "Ma" anymore. He called her "Mother." And if that wasn't proof that her family was breaking, nothing was.

Alfred moved out of the house shortly after that. Alice looked like it didn't bother her, but everyone knew. They just knew that it was harder on Alice than, say, Francis. Because it really was her fault.

The house grew more quiet. Francis came home less and less, presumably to visit Alfred and try to convince him to come back. To try to convince him that Alice didn't mean anything about it. That Alice was British, and this was how she was like.

And the "antagonist" of this whole story?

Alice grew more disorganised and disgruntled each day Alfred left.

She resorted to drinking.

Maddie had watched as her mother fell deeper into despair.

Alice's drinking addiction had gotten worse when she discovered that Alfred signed up to go to war.

"19 AND OFF TO WAR," she had shrieked, intoxicated, to no one in particular.

And with that, Alice swayed away in a huff, heading out, presumably to yell at Alfred for joining the army.

Maddie had watched silently from the corner, finally realising that this woman was not the mother she once knew. Now she understands why Francis never comes home.

She leaned back in her chair, taking her mother's unfinished drink. Ah, how tempted she was to finish it, to become like her mother, to forget everything that has happened these past few months. The amber liquid sloshed around in her hand. She set it down.

There was a soft knock on the door. That knock snapped Maddie out of her stupor.

"Papa?"

"Madeline, my darling daughter!"

Francis had held out his arms, asking for a hug of some sorts.

She accepted, glad for some sort of human touch. Alice rarely acknowledged her being anymore, let alone hug.

"Papa, why are you here?"

"I have come to look for Alice, where is she? Is she drunk somewhere?"

Maddie internally cringed at the harsh words that came out of her father's mouth. The father that once loved her mother so much. So so much.

"S-she is out right now."

"Out where? In a bar?"

"Why don't you come in to wait for her?"

"But of course! Thank you for inviting me inside."

She had tried so hard to bite back the harsh words out of her mouth.

"You live here. This is your house."

It slipped out anyways. Surprisingly, she didn't regret it.

Francis had a shocked expression on his face, like he wasn't expecting Maddie to retort something back.

"...You really are your mother's daughter. Alice would've retorted something back as well," Francis said with a bitter smile.

Maddie didn't quite know what that meant. But she took it in stride.

"Why are you here?"

She didn't mean for it to come out so stiffly but Francis DID somewhat abandon them for over 3 months.

"Looking for Alice. I have something to tell her- the both of you."

"Tell me first."

It came out too quickly. It sounded so desperate. So needy.

"I'm leaving your mother."

He had said it straight out. No warnings, no nothing. Just the plain ol' truth.

And it hurt. It hurt really badly.

Madeline felt like she was five years old all over again, and Alice had to soothe her when she fell while playing with Alfred.

"..W-why? W-why are you leaving Ma?"

She didn't need to ask, she already knew why, but asking made her feel less of a traitor to her mother.

Francis smiled that bitter smile once more.

"This family is no longer considered a family. I need a woman who actually supports their husband and son. I found a lovely French woman on the other side of town, her name is Michelle."

"But- you love Ma! What do you mean you're leaving her? I do not under-"

"I loved your Ma," Francis said, cutting her off.

That sentence felt like the whole world was crashing down and Maddie had to hold it up.

"Wha-"

Her question was cut off as the door opened.

Alice came in, looking more dead than she ever did before.

"Hello Alice, nice afternoon, isn't it," Francis said pleasantly, as if he wasn't going to drop the biggest bomb of the decade.

"Wh-what are you doing here, Francis?"

Alice was definitely sober now, if she wasn't sober before.

"And, Madeline, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Maddie didn't even know that tears were streaming down her cheeks like some sort of majestic waterfall. She didn't even care.

"Alice."

"Ma, he's leavi-"

"I'm leaving." Francis had cut her off once more.

"I do not know what you mean."

"I'm leaving you. I'm sorry for being so blunt but there is no other way."

"I- I do not understand? What have I done wrong," Alice stammered, taking a few steps back.

"Oh mon cherie, I am so sorry."

They had forgotten that Maddie was there again. She didn't care they ignored her now, she was too frozen in shock.

"But, I do not need room for women like you, women who hold their power on everyone in the family."

Alice had turned ghostly pale. She sunk to her knees.

Francis walked pass her, to Maddie.

"Would you like to live with Michelle and I? We would make sure you will be loved."

As if Maddie wasn't loved by her own mother. Did it make her a bad person that she somewhat wanted to go? To have someone acknowledge her being? To have someone that actually needed her? But- her Ma needed her. And her Ma was there for her when her Papa wasn't. She knew now. She knew.

"No."

Madeline was older now, not that much older, but older. She never regretted that decision one bit, although there were times where she wished she had followed Francis and Michelle. Or even Alfred.

Her Ma was her Ma, even though Alice forgot her existence multiple times to boot.

Oh, how she wished she had stood up more to her father. But the past is in the past. She should just let it go. But no matter how hard she tried, she can't. She dedicated days like today on reminiscing her past. Today was just particularly worse.

She picked up her drink, almost full to brim with sloshing amber liquid, and took a sip. To an outsider, she looked reminiscent of Alice.

Francis left their (can they even call it theirs now?) house right after breaking that terrible news. Maddie considered joining her mother on the floor, but one of them needed to look strong right now.

"Come here Ma… it's going to be alright Ma."

Alice flew into Maddie's open arms and sobbed.

"Oh Maddie… what can I do without you?"

That sentence, just that one simple sentence, made her realise that staying with Alice was the right decision after all. What use would she be to Francis?

Maddie joined in on the crying. After all, this was her own mother, she can show some vulnerability, right?

September 4th, 1783

It was late, Madeline supposes. So late. And where had her sleepiness gone?

Insomnia was not uncommon to her. It had started a few months back where Alice had gotten sick.

The funeral was just last week. It was a somber affair, with not many people attending.

They had sent an invitation to Francis, and to Alfred as well.

She doubted that either of them would be there, but lo and behold, Francis was there.

Francis was there. With his wife, (oh, how Madeline hated that word, even though she was one, and her Ma was one) Michelle.

"I am so sorry for your loss," she had said to her, patting her hand like she was some sort of child. But she was. She was still a child, hidden under that 20 year old exterior. A child longing for the mother that was never coming back.

"Thank you," Madeline accepted stiffly.

She had forgotten most of the funeral. She doesn't want to remember.

Alice looked so dead, yet so alive. She looked so noble, so majestic, even when death had taken her. Alice always held herself up after Francis left, pretending that she was not suffering, even though she was suffering the most out of the two.

And Alfred?

Well, Madeline thinks Alfred took on a whole new identity all together. She overheard some of the younger females whispering that an "Alfred F. Jones" had just came home, back to this good-for-nothing town. It was just a rumour, but she couldn't believe her ears when she heard it. Alfred, Alfred. That name struck a chord in her.

Maybe it was time to salvage this terribly broken brother and sister relationship. They were once so close. Closer than peas on a pod, even though Alfred was older by 2 years.

Madeline got out a piece of parchment, and began writing.

Dear Alfred…

A/N: DID ALFRED ANSWER? We do not know. Now, sorry if this is really shitty in your opinion, and if it doesn't make sense in some parts, or if it's too OOC. I know. I know. Thanks for reading and I hope you have an amazing day! ~that-one-spring-day