THIS IS THE OLD VERSION! The new one is called Clinging to a Memory. I decided to re-write all my stories, and though the new version will be more or less the same as this one, I'm posting a whole new story because they are so different in some ways. So, if you're reading this for the first time, you may want to look for the new version on my profile.

I know this is categorized as USUk, and it is happy USUK. But there will also be violent/bad FrUK and RusAme (you've been warned...)

Warnings: cursing (if you don't know what the F-word is, don't read my stories), making out, sexual harassment/rape (it's Francis, what can I say? But it's nothing explicit), abusive relationships (nothing too terrible), and my sad attempt at fluff (trust me, my later stories have better fluff).

Disclaimers: I own the plot, but all Hetalia- Axis Powers characters are obviously not mine.

The twins sat on their beds, at an arm's length apart. Alfred and Matthew tossed a baseball back and forth as was their custom when exceedingly bored. "A-Al! Please stop throwing it so hard," Matthew yelped ducking away from the fast flying baseball.

"But Mattie, that's how the hero throws!" Alfred said, laughing.

"You mean that's how the hero breaks a window…" Matthew mumbled, reaching down to pick up the baseball from the ground. Suddenly, there was a small rap on the door.

"It's Arthur!" Alfred yelled, flinging himself off his bed.

Throwing open the door, the American wrapped the smaller Brit in a hug bone-crushing hug. "Hey Artie!"

"And let go of me you twit! I can't breathe!" Arthur gasped. "Al, are you ready to go to the park? I have some friends that I want you to meet."

Arthur and Alfred sat in absolute silence within the small grove of trees. "Umm, Arti-"

"Shh!" Arthur hissed at Alfred. "You're an outsider! -They're already nervous, and if you talk, you'll scare them off."

They sat quietly a little longer. "Umm, who-" Arthur jumped to cover Alfred's mouth with his hand.

"They're here," he hissed, "behave yourself." He gently reached out his fingers to brush against something in front of him that only he could see. "They're coming out of the woods now. There's a unicorn, Flying Mint Bunny and the faeries. Can you see them?" Arthur asked, but Alfred shook his head.

Listening quietly for a moment and nodding every now and then as though listening to someone speak, the Brit told the American, "Take my hand; bunny says it will allow you to see them."

Alfred was awestruck. So those 'imaginary friends' he always teased Arthur about were real, and here he was thinking his best friend had gone insane.

"I see them now…" Alfred whispered. "Thank you Artie. It's awesome." Both of them looked down on their intertwined hands as if noticing them for the first time. Arthur turned bright red and tried to pull his hand away, but Alfred only tightened his grip. "This feels nice, doesn't it?"

Arthur stuttered a bit before answering. "Y-yes it does…"

Alfred leaned in to hug the blushing Brit. "How about this?" Alfred answered with a little nod. He then gave him a small kiss on the cheek. "I like you," Alfred chirped with childish happiness. For a long moment, Arthur had a look in his eyes that was far more mature than the Brit's eleven years.

"I like you, too."

Months after Arthur, Alfred, and Matthew turned fifteen, Matthew was vainly trying to comfort a distraught Alfred.

"Al, I-it's not as bad as you t-think," Matthew said, as the American let out a loud wail.

"Of course it is, Mattie! Artie's family is moving to back to England; I'm never going to see him again and he'll forget me."

Matthew taped his chin in thought. "How about you get him something, so he'll always remember you?"

"Good idea, Mattie, but now I've got a lot of work to do. Where did my baseball go…?"

"Here," Alfred said loudly, as he ran up to his Brit, "I made this for you, so you can't forget me!"

Eyes watering, the thought of leaving Alfred was too much to bear for Arthur. He held the bracelet in his hands, touched by the self-proclaimed hero's desperation. Without warning, the salty tears he had held back thus far begun to dribble and then spill down Arthur's cheeks amidst choked back sobs.

"Artie, no tears. I don't want the last time we see each other to be sad. Let me help you put it on." Alfred flipped his best friend's wrist over, tying the strings. The bracelet was made of thinly braided red and white strings, and had a little hand-carved heart and an American flag charm woven in. "It's the strings from my favorite football and baseball. I took it apart for you," Alfred said with a smile.

Flustered, Arthur stuttered out his words. "C-close your eyes, git, I made you something too."

Arthur pulled out two things from a bag. The first item was a soft scarf with black and blue stripes; the blue was the color of Alfred's eyes. It took Arthur ages to find exactly the right blue. Every time he thought he found the right blue, it was not quite correct. It was too gray, or too green, or too pale. No color had the same intensity of blue or showed the warmth that Alfred's eyes had, but this color did. It was perfect.

Arthur wound it around Alfred's neck, as he nervously asked, "W-what do you think?"

"It's so dope! And soft! Thanks Artie, I love it." Arthur turned a bright red at the compliment.

"O-one more thing," he said, pulling out a necklace on a thin silver chain. Hanging upon it, there was a guitar pick patterned with a Union Jack.

"But Artie, this is your lucky guitar pick," Alfred whimpered.

Arthur gave Alfred a small smile through the tears. "Hopefully the luck will last and we'll find each other again."

He wrapped Arthur in a bear hug and pressed their foreheads together, eyes of emerald green meeting those of sky blue. They leaned in, lips touching in a chaste kiss. "And in case we don't bloody see each other again?" Arthur whispered in his ear, breath tickling his skin.

"Then we make the most of this…" Alfred breathed. Their lips slammed against each other; all traces of chasteness gone. Alfred nipped at Arthur's bottom lip and slipped his tongue into Arthur's mouth, deepening the kiss. Their hands grabbed hungrily at each other's clothing, pulling them flush against each other. Arthur's mouth trailed down Alfred's neck bit and sucked at his skin, giving him a hickey, a temporary reminder that he was the Brit's.

"Don't forget," Arthur whispered into Alfred's neck, who twisted his fingers into Arthur's short, cat-like hair in response.

"Never," Alfred moaned, "never, ever, ever."