Waking nightmares

Chapter 1: getting away with murder


Disclaimer: I do not own 'Hetalia: Axis Powers' or any of the characters. The only thing I own is the plot, occasional OC's (who die one way or another), and the monsters.

Description: Monsters have been intertwined with history for as long as any of the nations can remember (if they knew about magic that is). But lately, a new kind of demon has been appearing. And oddly enough, it started in Canada and North Italy. But when the threat spreads, our two 'harmless' nations are forced to take action in a way that will give them away.

Note: I mess with the characters (mostly Mattie and Feli's) personalities. It will be explained later in the plot. I will try to make extra-long chapters. Human names used more than nation. Main pairings are PruCan and GermaIta. Open to any other pairings requested. Minor racism (America).

Rated MA (Mature Audience) for coarse language, descriptive violence, depressing themes, and possible nudity and adult scenes (if requested). Warning, there are long chapters.


'I feel irrational. So confrontational. To tell the truth I am getting away with murder. It isn't possible. To never tell the truth. But the reality is I'm getting away with murder.' Blared in Matthew William's ears. He glanced down at his white IPod, raising an eyebrow. He thought he only had Canadian artists on it. The nation scrolled through his artists list, brows furrowing at the amount of American bands there were. And a few Japanese and Korean. Hell, there was even German and Italian songs in the mix. The Canadian slowly raised his palm to his face, hand bumping into his glasses and red headphones. This would be the doing of a certain blonde American brother of his, accompanied by his German-albino friend. Correction, Prussian. He wondered vaguely when they had gotten their hands on his IPod.

Matthew felt a batting at the hand on his face. He took it away, not really surprised to see his white, growth-disabled polar bear, who had crawled up onto his bed. He stared into the beady eyes of….. Of….. What was his name again? He couldn't quite recall….. Oh! Kumahashiro. Yes, he stared at Kumahashiro questioningly.

"Hungry." The bear stated simply.

Matt patted Kumamimo's head, sitting up. He took off his headphones and paused his music, turning the IPod off completely. Instead of music, rain beating down on his roof was heard. He wasn't really in the mood for picking through songs he liked at the moment. He would keep most of the songs probably, since his brother went through the trouble of putting them on his IPod, but there was something about doing things involving his brother that always tired Matthew out quicker than anything else. So he instead shuffled to the edge of the bed, leaving his IPod on the red quilt adorning his comfiest piece of furniture. And that was saying something, since it took the Canadian nation two days to get Alfred off of his couch because it was 'way too comfy for any sidekick to have'.

Matthew took a quick glance at his clock on his bedside, seeing the red glowing numbers screaming it was almost twelve in the afternoon. Just in time for lunch. Matthew left his red-and-white-clad room and headed down the steps to his one-person kitchen, polar bear following close behind.

A quick glance in the fridge revealed he didn't have enough food for his polar bear to last the rest of the week. He would have to go out and buy some more seal soon. But then again, Kumadatchi could last on salmon for quite a while if he added extra maple syrup. But that would mean three maple-coated salmons a meal, and he wasn't too sure if he had enough maple syrup to satisfy the bear….. Haha! Not enough maple syrup. Matthew chuckled out loud at that. He always had more than enough syrup.

Canada kicked the fridge door closed, a fairly large seal chunk in his hands. He placed it on the cutting board, took out his meat mallet, and started hammering. He needed to soften the meat up, since Kumafuku's jaw wasn't that strong. Sure, he had claws like razor blades, but his jaw still needed to toughen up.

Once he was done beating the dead seal in what would look like overkill to any outsider, the invisible nation started cutting it into bite sized pieces. The next step was putting the seal in a bowl. Then he proceeded to drown the seal meat in delicious maple syrup. Not that fake, sweetened kind, but the real stuff. When Matthew found the seal had been drenched enough, he put the bowl down for his companion.

"There you go, Kumamaka." Matthew smiled, patting the soft fur.

"Who?"

"Canada."

The bear seemed to take the answer half-heartedly, digging into his food. Canada stood, and went to fix himself a sandwich. A sandwich in which consisted bananas, honey, peanut butter, maple syrup, and a mixture of nuts. He found the food to be a pleasant mix of crunch, soft, sweet, and plain. Just right for his sweet-needing taste buds. Fun fact: Canada had become obsessed with sweets of all kinds recently. He was just more controlled about it than his brother was with any fattening substance.

Matthew finished his sandwich all too soon, around the same time Kumahippo did. He picked up the dishes, and the utensils used to make the meals, turned to his sink, and started to wash.

He was almost through cleaning up when his front door was slammed open. If Matthew hadn't been utterly terrified in that moment, he would have questioned how the door managed to keep on its hinges, or how his wall had no dents in it, or why the person barging in would use the door like it was a punching bag. But he did none of this since he was terrified out of his mind. He instead swiveled around, squeaked, and threw the mallet he had been cleaning at whoever it was.

Once he processed who it was, he was almost glad his mallet just kind of flew half way there, then dropped. Almost.

There was Alfred F Jones, his 'twin', standing in the doorway beaming at Matthew. He could see clearly the man was soaking wet, hair matted down (although that persistent cowlick stayed gravity-defying), even if he was down a long hallway and past his kitchen doorway. One thing he hated about his kitchen- there was a beeline from it to the front door.

Next the Canadian noticed the British man Alfred had shoved inside before himself, who was now shouting at 'the bloody git' that he shouldn't shove people. Arthur Kirkland was much less soaked than Alfred, but soaked none-of-the-less. It seemed they had forgot they're umbrellas, or just weren't expecting the downpour that happened to be his home. Or probably, most likely, weren't expecting to come at all.

The third participant, laughing his odd laugh behind Alfred, was Francis Bonnefoy. His long strands clung to his face in a rare, uncharacteristic, un-flattering way. He seemed too caught up in teasing the English representative to notice his son, as did Arthur. Of course, Alfred noticed him right away.

"THE HERO IS HERE!" The obnoxious American announced, laughing.

First thought. 'What are they doing in my house?!'

Second thought. 'What are they doing in my house?!'

"See guys? See?! I told you!" Alfred shouted excitedly, pointing directly at Matthew.

Arthur blinked, stared at Matthew, looked at Alfred, then back at Matthew. He repeated this motion a couple of times before a look of guilt passed by his face. Francis had taken one look at Matthew and started laughing harder. To say the Canadian was confused would be an understatement.

"U-Um…. What-"

"France and England were arguing about a cloning devise or something, I don't even know, but anyways then I told them I had a clone already and they didn't believe me so I dragged them over!" Alfred laughed. "Seriously bro, we look really close to the same!"

A twitch. A small, almost invisible, twitch. You wouldn't know it happened if you hadn't looked for it, and no one was, so the twitch seemed to never happen. But it did. In the right-most corner of Matthews right eye, a small spasm of annoyance. Matthew slapped on a fake smile, much like a certain Russian did, but made it look more genuine and gentle. All while wondering where a good place to burry three bodies would be.

"Oh." Was what his mouth let forward.

"Yeah!" Alfred ran over to Matthew, completely ignoring the soapy mallet on the ground. "And now we can have a special family time! Like when we were kids!"

Alfred almost knocked the Canadian over with the force of his hug. Matthew chuckled lightly, hugging back. "Sure."

"Apologies for startling you, my boy." England smiled over, picking up the mallet and returning it to Matthew's hands. "The git currently suffocating you shoved me through the door before I could knock. It's a wonder how he managed to unlock and open it before shoving me in."

"Ah, Mattieu~ est mon petite garcon bon?" Francis walked over in a breeze, having the manners to close the door first.

"Oui, Papa. Je suis tres bon, merci. Un petit fatigue, mes bon. Et toi?"

"Bien, merci."

"Dudes, can you, like, speak English?" America asked bluntly, arms still looped around Canada's neck, even though the other had already let go of the hug.

Matthew giggled, turning in Alfred's arms to face the sink. He continued to wash his dishes. "I just need to finish up here, okay? You can go wait in the living room. Make yourselves comfortable. I'll be there with some tea soon."

"'Kay dude!" Alfred was the first to rush into the room mentioned, eager to play some video games. His little bro wasn't that much of a gamer, but he still had awesome games.

England and France followed shortly after. Canada waited until he heard the sound of three people sitting down before he slumped over his sink.

"Again….. Even in my own country…." Matthew muttered. They had forgotten him again, no surprises there. But they had the audacity to not know who he was in his own fucking country. What did they think the space above America's land was? The land of second-degree Americans? Was he really that invisible? Matthew whipped a hand over his face, making it slightly damp.

Then he remembered.

Those three came in sopping.

Matthew turned, seeing a trail of water from the door into the kitchen, then to the living room. He just stared at it for the longest time. He then decided he didn't care anymore and went back to washing the dishes.


"Ve~ Germany!" the small Italian called, walking into the house with grocery bags in his arms. A similar-looking Italian walked in behind him, bags upon bags of tomatoes in his own arms. He was eating one as well. He glared at his twin.

"Why would you yell for that potato bastardo as soon as you enter your own ho-"

"Welcome back, Italy." A voice, much deeper, called back.

Lovino Vargas glared bullets into Feliciano Vargas's head, making the other start sweating. The tomato he had been eating was crushed in his hands and was now dripping onto the floor.

"When… did…he… get….here?"

"….Um….."

"When. Did. He. Get. Here?"

"…..last night..?"

"….."

Ludwig Beilschmidt wondered why Feliciano hadn't come around to greet him, or even gone to the kitchen to put away the groceries he knew the other had. He was about to call out, but he got cut off.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOTA HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY NOT TO INVITE THAT BASTARDO OVER?! YOU REALLY ARE STUPID VENEZIANO BECAUSE NOW I CAN KILL YOU BOTH!"

"WAAAAHHHH! DON'T KILL ME FRATELLO! I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYWAHHHH!"

Ludwig slowly placed his face into his hand. It looked like Feliciano had bumped into Lovino in the store and invited him over for dinner. Lovely. It wasn't that he didn't like Lovino, in fact the angry Italian could be quite pleasant when calm, but the other seemed to loath Ludwig for some reason. He sighed and stood, making his way to the entrance. He was greeted by the sight of the Italian with dark brown hair strangling his brother, who had slightly lighter hair with a red tint. He pried the one off of the other.

"LET GO OF ME YOU POTATO BASTARDO! DON'T WORRY YOU'LL HAVE YOUR TURN TO BE DEAD! TELL ME, WHERE SHOULD I HIDE THE BODIES?!"

"VEEEE! GERMANY HIDE ME!"

Ludwig sighed again. He really hated the Italian twins sometimes. They could be- no, there were- pains in his ass.

"Kesesesese~"

Speaking of pains in his ass….

"West, having fun there?" the white haired male smirked, laughing, leaning against the doorway leading into the kitchen to his left.

"Bruder….." Ludwig had nothing to say past that.

"OH HELL NO! WE ARE NOT HAVING THE POTATO BASTARDO DUE HERE."

"Kesese~ calm down, I'm not staying for dinner. Just checking up on mein kleiner Bruder is all." The Prussian pushed himself from the doorway and walked forward a few steps, now face to face with Ludwig. "I'm going to Mattie's for dinner tonight. Which means I should be leaving now if I want to be there by six in his time or so."

"…Who?"

"Mattie."

"….."

"Mein Got, West, Canada. The second largest nation in the world. Matthew Williams. Right above America?" His explanations were met with three blank stares, so he continued. "The nation no one notices? The guy I hang out with? The guy who is almost as awesome as me because he makes fucking A+ pancakes fit for gods? Matthew, the one I drag out of meetings since no one pays us any attention." Three stares were turning more confused than blank. "…. The America look alike."

"Oh, him. Yes, he is polite." The German finally responded with some recognition. Gilbert Beilschmidt shook his head, disappointment clear when he spoke next.

"Seriously. That's what you remember him by. Just America's look alike." He rolled his eyes. "Seriously, the kid doesn't get the recognition that he deserves for putting up with you all forgetting him all the time."

"Bruder, how do you remember him anyways?"

"Oh, that's easy. How would you feel if you were ignored and seen through for centuries upon centuries, and when you are seen, your mistaken for me?"

"Well, I would be on the brink of self-destruction…"

"Exactly. When the kid finally snaps, and goes killing every person who forgot him or mistook him for that dummkopf, he'll look at me and be like "oh you remembered me and your too awesome so I'll let you live" and I'll get away home free." Gilbert didn't actually believe this, his Birdie was too timid and fragile to actually hurt anyone. He just wanted to help the kid get remembered. And by what Gilbert was seeing, he assumed it was working.

Germany and Romano got weird expressions on their faces, seemingly understanding. They would have to remember the name 'Matthew Williams' from now on. Veneziano, on the other hand, had a different odd expression. But Gilbert didn't really care enough to distinguish what it was.

"Yep! So I'll be off. Have fun!" Gilbert patted Ludwig on the head, then ran out the door, his odd laughter and a small yellow bird following him out.

Ludwig stared at where his big brother left for a few seconds, then rubbed his head. Hello, headache, old enemy. Welcome back. Ludwig placed Lovino back down.

"Ve~ Come on fratello, let's make pasta! Or maybe pizza. Or- ooooh~ how about ravioli?" Feliciano giggled, taking his twins arm and dragging him into the kitchen, leaving Ludwig alone. "I'll get started on the sauce! How about you prepare the dough?"

Lovino muttered an agreement. They went to separate sides of the surprisingly large kitchen and started to work.

'Matthew, hm?' The gentler Italian thought. 'I didn't know Gil still went to his. That one fight they got into sounded scary! What was it even over? Mmm, I can't remember the details. All I know is it was bad and neither one of them wanted to see the other for a long while. Gil was very sad. Ve~ I wish I could have done something. But it seems they're in good terms again, so that's good!' Italy giggled to himself. 'That reminds me, we need to set up a next meeting place. I'll call him after dinner.'

"Fratello, should I put some wurst in the sauce? That would make Germany happy!"

"No I don't think you should you idiota!"

"Okay! I'll put the wurst in!"

"DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I JUST SAID, VENEZIANO?!"

Feliciano giggled again. How he did love picking on his brother.


Matthew sat in his arm chair, looking over the other nations in the room. America was collecting a pool of water where he sat on his leather couch, not seeming to notice. At least England and France had the good sense to put some blankets over their seats before sitting in them. Matthew wanted badly to strangle his idiot for a brother.

The Canadian glanced over at the clock on the wall. Five twenty seven. Gilbert would be showing up soon, and he'd rather not have Alfred and the Prussian get into a fight. He stood, catching the three chatting figures attentions.

"Not to sound rude, but I'm having a guest over for dinner tonight, and, well…." Matthew tailed off, not sure what to say next.

The three blinked in a way that showed they forgot he was there. Matthew ground his teeth against each other. Seriously, even he wasn'tthatinvisible. Francis was the first one to react with something that wasn't surprise.

"Ohonhonhonhon~ would this guest happen to be special?"

"P-Papa! Non!"

"Dude, Mattie, if you had a date you should have just told us!"

"its not-"

"What's they're name? Gender? Nationality? Address? Do they treat you well? Have they pushed you into any uncomfortable situations? How old are they? When's they're birthday? What do they look like? Favorite food? Color? Animal? Do they bathe every day? Use deodorant? Keep they're place spic and span? Are they sloppy? What are they're table manners like? Should I be worried?" Arthur went into 'mother hen' mode, instantly right in front of the Canadian with a threatening aura. Matthew paled, backing away slightly.

"U-Uh…."

"L'Angleterre, don't interrogate the poor boy. Matthew isn't our colony anymore. He can make love to whoever he wants, ohonhonhon~"

"Shut up you stupid frog, and- HOLD ON, MATTHEW IS NOT MAKING LOVE TO ANYONE! HE'S TOO YOUNG!"

"It's been cent soixant-dix-sept ans, I am fairly sure he can."

"SHUT UP, YOU FROG!"

"Dudes it's cool, Mattie will probably stay a virgin for another fifty years or more. No need to worry."

"What does that mean?!"

"I'm just saying bro, the chances of you getting laid are slim."

Matthew puffed his flushed cheeks out, a small anger in his eyes. "Well what about you? I know for a fact you're still a virgin as well."

"N-NO I'M NOT!" Alfred's face turned even redder than Matthews.

"Ohohoh~ L'Amerique is still a virgin~?"

"Mattie, you promised you wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Then you should have done the same."

"Bu-"

The argument was cut short when the front door opened. Matthew paled. For once, he wished it to be a robber or a cop or something of those sorts. But when he raced around the corner, all his hopes were dashed.

There stood a slightly damp Prussian, covering a yellow bird with his hand so he wouldn't get wet. Once he was sure the bird was fine, he flicked some white hair out of his eyes. Canada was a little transfixed, seeing Gilbert like that, dripping water and cloths plastered to his body, hugging him in all the right places. He snapped out of it soon enough.

"Hey, could you wait a sec? Now isn't the best time-"

Gilbert flashed a grin, and the Canadian was once again transfixed. "What, did your bear make a mess again? Y'know I can help tidy up if that's the case."

Matthew mentally slapped himself so he would stop staring at his friend. "No, not that, it's-"

"Prussia? Your date is Prussia?!" An offended voice shouted from behind Matthew.

"IT'S NOT A DATE, AL!" Matthew instantly shouted back, face rivalling the red of his hoodie.

France started laughing once again. England flushed, instantly overprotective. He didn't like the Prussian, mostly for the fact France told him many stories of how himself, Gilbert and Spain found trouble allot. Alfred didn't approve of Gilbert for about the same reason, but also the fact that Prussia was, like, one hundred times their age (although we all know that is just a very bad excuse rather than a reason, since their nations and it doesn't count).

Gilbert grabbed Matthews arm and yanked the male towards himself. "How bad is my timing?" He muttered.

"As bad as timing can get." Muttered Matthew back. "And please let go, you're not making my case any easier."

"Oh, how they think this is a date?"

"Oui."

"….." A smirk was planted on Gilbert's face. Matthew opened his mouth to say 'Don't you dare', but it was too late. Gilbert was going to be an ass about this. "Can you all get out now, so Mattie and I can do some 'awesome things'." Gilbert waggled his eyebrows on those last two words.

There was a mixture of answers, those being "OVER MY DEAD BODY", "ONLY I CAN CALL CANADIA MATTIE", and "Of course." Two out of three of those participants turned to the third with glares.

"I'm not going to let that Nazi anywhere near my baby bro!"

"AL!"

"What?"

"Gil is not a Nazi! Him and Germany have long-since stopped being Nazi's! Plus, it wasn't even their fault! Their government forced them into it!"

"Don't call him 'Gil' like you to are so buddy-buddy! Get out of my bro's house!"

"I'll only leave if the owner wishes it! Kesesesese!"

"Come on Matthew, have some good sense and tell Prussia to leave. It is not healthy to get involved in one such as him!"

"Are you implying something, L'Angleterre?"

"I BLOODY WELL AM!"

Matthew, who had slipped away momentarily, came back with three plain black umbrellas. He shoved one to each of his three brothers, then shoved their shouting asses out the door and slammed it in their faces. It was very rude, but the embarrassment and their own rudeness was more than enough to justify his actions. Behind him, Prussia whistled.

"Wow, Birdie. Never thought you had it in you. But you are missing one thing…." Gilbert walked over, reached past the Canadian and locked the door. And locked the second lock. And put the chain on. And a wedge at the bottom. Then did the same with the backdoor, but with a chair instead of a wedge. Matthew almost laughed.

"Come on. They'll leave eventually if we ignore them." Gilbert led Matthew into the living room, pausing when he saw how soaking everything was. Then he glanced down at himself. "On second thought you tidy up here while I use the shower and your washer and dryer. I expect some awesome games to be on by the time I get back." He went upstairs, having memorized the houses layout from his many, many visits.

Matthew sighed. He should get started on an early dinner while he was at it. Canada rolled up his sleeves, and got started.


"Germany! Dinner is ready!" North Italy shouted happily, setting the plates of food on the table, South Italy not too far off.

"It smells good."

"You have no right to complement our food!"

"…Alright…?"

"Veeee~ Fratello, don't be so mean to Doitsu!"

"Doitsu?! The fuck is Doitsu?!"

"That's Germany in Japan's language! Cute, don't you think~?"

"IT'S NOT CUTE AT ALL!"

Ludwig took to ignoring them and eating. They did eventually calm down, but with Veneziano snivelling and Romano fuming. Germany sighed, taking another bite. He then realized something.

"Italy, is there wurst in this?"

Italy brightened considerably. "Si~ I thought you would like it!"

"Ah. Yes, it is a rather pleasant surprise. Danke."

"Ve~ Prego!"

Romano grumbled a string of curses, but didn't speak up otherwise. They all ate in a rather comfortable silence for once in their long lives. Feliciano glanced at Ludwig, then at Lovino. His twin was eating quickly, stabbing his food like it had done him wrong then shoving it into his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing it. Feliciano almost giggled. Then said something that caused as much ciaos at the table as he could think of.

"So~ fratello, how is Big Brother Spain~?"

Romano, who had been in the process of drowning himself with his water, spat all that he had in his mouth out. Luckily, or unluckily to Lovino, no one had the pleasure of having all that water drench them. He slammed the glass down so hard the table shook, and a small crack formed in the glass.

"HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW?! WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME IDIOTA VENEZIANO?!"

"I'M SORRY I WAS JUST CURIOUS I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY!"

Ludwig picked his meal up and went to the kitchen to eat it, ignoring the first Italians strangled cries for help and the second Italians curses and shouts while strangling the first. Just one day of peace. Was that too much to ask for?

Feliciano managed to pry Lovino's hands off of him without too much effort, but was still victim to his brother's shouts. He wanted to laugh. It was too much fun to pick on his fratello like this. He watched his now red faced twin quickly shove the rest of the food into his mouth, stand, and go to the kitchen to clean up. He then released a chuckle, too quiet for anyone to hear. He finished his food and went to give Lovino his plate.

"I have a call to make. Could you wash my dish as well, per favore?"

"Yeah yeah. Just get back quckily and help once you're done." Lovino grudgingly took the plate and almost threw it into the sink. Ludwig twitched, finished his food, and then shoved Lovino out of the way by his head. "Hey! What are you-"

"I don't want you to wreck your dishes. As much as it would be entertaining." Germany gave Romano a blank stare before looking back at the dishes.

"WHY YOU-"

South Italy giggled, Germany was funny~! Not many could tell when Ludwig joked, probably just Feliciano and Gilbert, but when he did it was usually very unnoticeable and slightly dry. It made sense no one could tell. Feliciano glanced back at his best friend to see a slight smile on his face. He always had that smile for a few seconds after making a joke, and having someone recognise it. Feliciano giggled again before heading for the backyard.

He flipped the American, untraceable cell out, dialling the other untraceable cell he knew would only be accessible for this last call. He would have to ask for him to send over a new one. The phone rang five times, someone must have been with him, then was picked up.

"Where and when?"

"Tomorrow, Alabama. Nine in the morning US time. See you then."

And that was it.


A/N: Hey guys! First chapter, FINI. Please comment any couples you want added besides PruCan and GermaIta. I'll add up the votes and pick the highest six. If there is votes for one of them to be in two different ships, I'll pick the one with the most votes and if they tie, I'll pick the one I like better.

Does anyone else think Canada's sandwich sound yummy?

Translations

Ah, Mattieu~ est mon petite garcon bon? – Ah, Matthew, is my little boy good?

Oui, Papa. Je tres bon, merci. Un petit fatigue, mes bon. Et toi? – Yes, Papa. I am good, thank you. A bit tired, but good. And you?

Bien, merci. – Good, thank you.

Bastardo – Bastard

Idiota – Idiot

Veneziano – Feliciano's other name, like how Lovino is Romano. Venice, Italy. Rome, Italy.

Fratello/Bruder – Brother

Mein Got – My God

Dummkopf – Moron/Idiot

Wurst – German sausage

Non – No

L'Angleterre – England

Cent soixant-dix-sept ans – One hundred seventy seven years

L'Amerique – America

Oui – Yes

Doitsu – Germany

Danke – Thank you

Prego – You're welcome

Per favore – Please

Fini – Done