A/N: I know I should be working on Mondiale High, but I am working on it as you read this, so yay! I don't usually ship Canada and America, but I have grown a twisted fondness for it. Eben if USUK is one of my OTPs. Also, human AND country names used,so yeah. On with the story~!
"Papa!" the young boy violet eyed boy called, reaching out for the taller blonde man. The young boy's heart was breaking. The older blue eyed man watched the child with sadness.
"I am sorry, Matthew, but this is the way it is. You are England's now. Goodbye...Canada," the blonde man said, smiling sadly before walking away. The young boy cried and tried to run after him, but stumbled and fell into the snow. Hot tears streamed angrily down his face. Why? Why was he abandoning him? Had he been bad? Surely that was it. He had been a bad boy and now his papa didn't want him any more.
"Canada... Come now, you shouldn't stay in the snow. You will catch a cold," a distinctly British voice called from behind him.
" I don't...I don't want to go! Papa might come back for me!" Matthew cried.
"I am not that bad, right? Come on, I know someone you can play with so you won't get lonely."
Reluctantly, Matthew stood. "I want to stay at my house. I don't want to leave. Not yet."
An understanding smile crossed the green eyed nation's face. He gave the small boy a few pats on the head. "Very well. I shall come see to you soon, then."
And with that,the boy was once again left to stand in the snow alone.
0O0
How much time had passed since Arthur had left him? Months? Years? It felt like an eternity. Alfred sat at the window, sighing. It was a beautiful day out, as it always was in America. He was bored. Though Arthur specifically told him not to wander about, the young Alfred just itched to explore his vast lands. To the west. To the north. He had so many places he wanted to go! And Arthur wasn't there to scold him...
Alfred dressed and packed some food and water, setting out to explore. He found himself starting west, but then going north. It was getting colder and the sun was starting to go down. He knew he really shouldn't go any further- he was nearing the end of his territory. But he still pressed on. After all,who could stop him?
Suddenly, his boots crushed into soft ground, was it mud? No, it was cold,white ice. Snow. Alfred had seen it before, but never in the much quantity. It was everywhere. He continued to explore, finding a forest. The forest looked to be empty, so Alfred decided to crawl through the bushes to see if any small critters were hiding. Maybe he'd even discover a new species.
He crawled and crawled until he heard a small grunt. He froze. What could that have been? He wondered. Then there were soft sobs. Someone was crying. Crawling towards the sound of the sobs, he found a small boy around his age. The boy had almost curly blonde hair- almost, it was halfway between straight and curly- and wide violet eyes. A large curl protruded from the front of his hair line,reminding Alfred of his own little cow-lick if it grew out. Large baby blue eyes met with startled violet once. To be honest, Alfred himself was quite startled. He had seen other nations before, sure, but never had he seen a boy his age. Everyone was always...bigger. But here was someone small. Someone who looked as if they would break from one single cruel world. The young Alfred felt a rush of protectiveness for the young violet eyed boy. It was a strange sensation, but he liked it. A lot.
"W-what are you doing here?" the violet eyed boy asked in a quiet voice.
"I am exploring," Alfred declared proudly. "Who are you?"
"I-I'm Canada," the boy answered.
"Who?" Alfred questioned again, not recognizing the name.
"Canada,but you can call me Matthew," the boy explained.
"Okay, Matty, why were you crying?" Alfred asked, crawling closer to Matthew until he was bumping knees with the other.
"I just...miss my papa. He just left me and gave me away," Matthew sniffed, wiping stray tears off of his cheeks.
"I know how you feel. Arthur, er, England leaves me all the time. I get lonely and, just between you and me, sometimes I cry, too. But don't tell anyone! I wanna be a hero when I grow up and it isn't manly if the hero cries!" Alfred told Matthew with a smile.
"R-really?" Matthew asked.
"Yeah. It is lonely being the only one on the North American continent, but you know...wait a second, you are north of me! I am not alone!" Alfred nearly yelled, making Matthew wince slightly.
"Y-yeah, I'm Canada, like I said. Which mean you are America, right? We are neighbors," Matthew told him, recovering from the loudness.
"Nah, forget neighbors. We're bros!"
"Bros?" Matthew questioned.
"Ya know,brothers? Brother is such a long word, so I shortened it!" Alfred told him, beaming.
"Ah. Okay," Matthew replied, blushing.
0O0
Time passed. Alfred and Matthew grew close as they entered their teen years. There wasn't much they didn't do together. But as of late, Matthew had noticed Alfred being...distant. And very quick to anger.
"Damn him, that stupid British pig!" Alfred hissed, slamming his fists down on Matthew's table, causing the once-sturdy wooden piece to wobble on its legs. Nothing was sturdy enough around an angry Alfred. Nothing.
"Brother, what is it?" Matthew asked quickly, not thinking his table could take another one of Alfred's super punches.
"England. He is raises my taxes again! My people cannot take much more of this! I have to do something. Anything. He can't be allowed to do as he pleases. Not anymore."
Matthew watched as Alfred stormed out of his house and he didn't see or hear from him again for months. Then, he hears the worst from England. America had declared independence from England. And he would fight for it, fight anyone for it. Even Arthur and Mathew.
That night, Matthew cried himself to sleep, something he hadn't done for a very long time. Something he wished he would never have to do again, but knew he would. He would have to fight Alfred. And Alfred was okay with it.
Alfred avoided actually fighting Matthew, only inflicting harm to England. Everyone noticed, but none spoke of it. Then Alfred won his independence. All ties were severed.
Matthew seemed to disappear from history. That is, until 1812. The British were fighting along side Portugal and Spain to get rid of Napoleon Bonaparte and his army. Matthew noticed that England's navy, while being the largest, was still very poor in condition. Many sailors deserted their posts and became American merchants. So, England passed a law that allowed him to search the American ships and force the men into labor for the British Navy. Alfred was furious. He declared war once again on England. This time, Matthew was forced to fight him. And fight him he did. It was hard and there were many close calls, but he successfully burnt down Alfred's pride and joy. His White House.
In the end, it was a draw, though Matthew liked to believe he won in some areas. He had, after all, held off Alfred. And to nurse his wounds from fighting his most beloved brother, he told him he gave him a victory poem. After all, Francis Scott Key would not have been inspired to write his poem had it not been for the battle in Baltimore.
Though, Matthew couldn't help but feel he had more than brotherly feelings. Every time he caught himself thinking that way, he'd quickly think of something else. It was not right to think of his brother that way, he told himself. But a small voice reminded him they weren't really brothers. They shared a continent, yes, but were by no means biologically the same.
Matthew himself became independent, but not through war. England just let him go over time, just as everyone else had before. Matthew didn't even cry. What would be the point? He had shed enough tears for those who didn't care. Matthew himself didn't want to care, but he did. And every time he thought of a certain loud, blue-eyed nation, he found his heart hurting. He missed him. He missed Alfred dearly.
0O0
Things had turned back to normal, or as normal as they could be for nations, between Alfred and Matthew after World War II. Now in the present day, the two were closer than they had once been, or so Matthew thought. Until he saw Alfred laughing and hugging England. Rage filled the violet eyed nation as he watched the pair.
"Oh, hey Matty~!" Alfred sang, releasing England. England stared in shock as if he just realized Canada existed. He probably did.
"Alfred," Matthew replied curtly.
Waving goodbye to England, he threw his arm over Matthews shoulder.
"What's up, bro?"
"What's up? What's up? You tell me what's up, Alfred!" Matthew yelled, surprising the bigger nation.
"Um, if you are still mad about NAFTA, let me just point out that you get a lot out of it, too. I wasn't really being all that selfish!" Alfred defended.
"No! You hoser! I'm talking about England! When did you two become all buddy-buddy?" Matthew asked lowly.
"Ah, Matty, you are creeping me out, bro. And England decided to forgive me for all the things I have done. I really hurt him, Matty," Alfred explained, becoming serious.
This was it. This was the Alfred no one else saw. Everyone called him an air-headed idiot, but he was the most intelligent of them all. He just didn't rub it in. But sometimes, he could really be an idiot. Especially when it came to feelings.
"What you have done to him? What about what he has done to you! Or what you've done to me!" Matthew cried.
"Matthew, hold on a second! What are you crying about? What did I do?"
"You-! You mad me into this...this sick person!"
"What?" Alfred asked, completely shocked.
"I'm in love with you! My own brother! All this time and you chase after him! That-that damned English tosser! Mon Dieu! Comment pouvez-vous être un tel ... tel un idiot! Cela a été évident depuis des années!" Matthew hissed, slipping into French.
"Matty, I-," Matthew cut him off by slamming his lips down onto Alfred's. He put his whole heart into and, to Matthew's surprise, Alfred returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around Matthew's torso.
Only when the need for air and the uncomfortableness of their glasses pressing into each other got to be unbearable did they part. Matthew blushed furiously and Alfred turned a light shade of pink.
"I have no idea what you just said, but Matty, I have loved you since the first time I ever saw you crying in that forest. It is because of you that I wanted to be a hero. I love you. I love you so ,so much," Alfred whispered, hugging Matthew against him.
"Ah, Alfred... I love you. I have loved you since then, too...maybe I didn't realize until later, but, Alfred, I do love you. More than anything else," Matthew whispered, hugging himself to Alfred for dear life. He was afraid this was a dream- that he'd wake up alone in his bed at home cold and alone. But Alfred was real, warm and true. And he felt the same way. He had felt the same way.
"Good, because after that kiss," Alfred began, dropping his voice to a whisper, his breath warm on Matthew's ear, "I won't be letting you out of my sight for a very, very long time. Or my bedroom, for that matter."
Matthew blushed darker, if possible, than before. "W-what about England? Aren't you two..."
"Me and England what? Together? Nah, he is too uptight. Plus, why trade something great for something good? That's downgrading. And I'm the hero. Heroes don't downgrade."
A/N: And that's it! Ta-Da! Hope ya enjoyed. Review? Please? If you liked it, I might write more CanAme stuff. So, bye for now! Gotta work on Mondiale High!
* Mon Dieu! Comment pouvez-vous être un tel ... tel un idiot! Cela a été évident depuis des années!- My God! How can you be such an...such an idiot! It's been obvious for years!