Gilbert had faded. He had faded away minutes ago. No… It was a few days ago, wasn't it? And Matthew wasn't there either. Matthew had gone with Ivan. He had been with Ivan for a while. Alfred hated him. He didn't care that Gilbert was dead. He didn't care that Alfred was in pain. He lay on his bed and just looked at the ceiling thinking back to the days before. Gilbert had lost everything and was just a rag doll. It came slowly, with him losing something every year. And one day… He just came back. He came back and had everything. Alfred couldn't decide if he loved, or hated that day. Gilbert had disappeared that night. Alfred was still there next to him to say goodbye. When Gilbert had disappeared, he had left his cross that he always wore around his neck. Alfred had taken it without the other nations seeing. He kept it around his neck for safe keeping. In the cross/locket thing there was a picture of the man that had raised Gilbert - Old Man Fritz? I think… - and Ludwig and Gilbert. Alfred hadn't touched or moved those pictures. He knew that Gilbert was gone. But that little locket cross helped him get through it, even a little.

Matthew had seemed like he didn't want to be there when Alfred came to say hi. Matthew had said it would be good for them to try to get him back from Russia, so Alfred and Arthur went to war with Ivan. During the bloody war, Matthew was pushed behind Russia as the Russian went to attack the other nations. Matthew's stomach decided it was time to give birth, so he began the agonizing pain of labor. As soon as Arthur had noticed him, he immediately went over to him and helped. Alfred was not sure how cutting open Mattie's stomach helped, but Arthur cut open Matthew's stomach, retrieved the baby, and stitched him back up in record time. Arthur went back into Ivan's bathroom to wash the blood off the baby, and Ivan followed to make sure he didn't do anything to the baby. Alfred stayed with Matthew and comforted his brother's whimpers of pain.

"I thought Gilbert was dead…" Arthur's voice reached their ears. Alfred sucked in a deep breath and starred straight at Canada. Matthew smiled softly and sat up as Arthur walked into the room with a bundle of clothes. He handed the clothes to Matthew and Matthew smiled down at a little albino child, with white hair and blood red eyes. Alfred looked at him too, surprised that anything other than Gilbert could have that color of eyes. Alfred couldn't look away.

"Meet New Prussia." Matthew said softly, looking up to Alfred. Alfred's eyes lit up to their normal blue. They haven't been that bright in nine months. Yes. It had been nine months since Gilbert had died. He remembered that now. The back of the collar on his shirt was grabbed by Ivan, with him and Arthur being pulled out of the room, He gave Matthew a grin and a thumbs up and was yanked out of the room. His face darkened as he was thrown outside, he looked to Ivan.

"Touch either of them and die." Ivan smiled darkly.

"Too late, America." He walked inside, and that was the last Alfred had seen them.

((((

Now, to the present. Matthew was with Russia. He had been for a long time. He hated Matthew. Matthew didn't care. He hated him, he loved Russia. Clear as that. Alfred now lay on his bed, thinking over everything and nothing. His doorbell rung noisily. He ignored it, hoping that whoever it was would go away. They apparently knew he was home and they rang the doorbell again. Alfred growled angrily at the door and screamed for them to come in. He heard the quiet footsteps of Matthew and he sat up, looking at the doorway. There stood his brother. There was something in his arms. A bundle… Alfred looked at him shocked.

"What do you want?" He said angrily. Matthew walked quickly over to him and put down a little bag of clothing. The bag was full of baby sized clothing, ranging from all sizes. He recognized some of their clothing and some of Gilbert's own clothing in there as well. Alfred looked at Matthew confused. Matthew held out little Gilbert to him.

"Here," He said softly. "Take him." Alfred starred at the bundle briefly before hesitantly taking it.

"It's your kid, Matthew…" All hostility was gone. He just gave him the biggest thing in his life back… Matthew smiled sadly. Alfred looked at him, noticing a bruise on his head. "Did he…?" He didn't need Matthew to answer. He knew Ivan did that. Matthew nodded.

"It was an accident…" He whispered. Alfred shook his head.

"Matthew, we could take you back now." He said quickly. "We could help, we could get you home we could-"

"No." Matthew said firmly. "I don't n-need that…"

"Need or want?" He replied icily. Matthew's eyes widened and his face suddenly fell. He looked at Gilbert.

"I guess a-a little bit of b-both…" He whispered testily. Alfred felt his blood boil.

"Fine." He growled. He tried to keep his anger under control, remembering there was a child in the room. No, in his arms. Matthew gave him a sad smile.

"I'm sorry A-Al…" He said quietly. Alfred nodded and looked down at the kid. He smiled softly, and then looked back to Matthew. "Thank you…" His brother whispered.

"Why are you giving him to me?" Alfred asked suddenly. Matthew gave him another look.

"I don't w-want Ivan to h-hurt him again." Matthew smiled at him. "You s-should raise him. H-he was with you f-for so long…" Alfred continued to look at him, all emotion drained for his brother. Matthew leaned down and kissed little Gilbert's head. He straightened back up and gave Alfred a nod. "Th-Thanks." He said quietly. Alfred nodded back.

"G'Luck, Mattie." He told his brother has he left. I hope you die. His mind growled. Matthew left without another word, hurrying back to Ivan's house. Alfred starred at the little kid in his arms. Gilbert had his eyes open starring at Alfred contently. Alfred returned his stare. Little Gilbert smiled and giggled, reaching out for Alfred happily. Alfred smiled and leaned against the head board of his bed. He moved a hand out from under Gilbert and let the little kid hold his finger. Alfred smiled down at the little kid. He had Gilbert's white hair and red eyes. Also, his pale complexion. The American looked at the child and smiled. He was going to have one hell of a time raising him.

((((((((((((((

((Well, Yeah... That happened... Um... Yeah. I'm sorry that I butchered this...))

((You really messed it up...))

((I know...))