"America lad, are you sure that you're feeling alright?" A generally concerned England asked as he watched his former colony snacking on a delicious apple rather than the fattening, disgusting McDonald's that he usual ate. And it wasn't the first time he'd caught him eating a healthy snack either, to his knowledge; he hadn't seen America eat any kind of fast food in over a week.
"Of course I'm fine. Why do you ask?" That was another thing that was off; his manner of speaking was entirely different, quieter even. He was more polite, less talkative, more respectful, and didn't talk while chewing or slurping.
"I've noticed that you haven't touched your precious McDonald's in awhile. Are you sure you're not sick?" America only giggled. "Of course I'm not sick silly! I just decided to cut down is all."
He chewed the apple until it was nothing more than a core with seeds and tossed it into the trash. England only sighed and stood up, walking over to him. "Lad if this is about your weight problems again, I keep telling you, you're not fat, you just eat far too much." "Arthur, I know I'm not fat, I just don't have much of an appetite anymore. Tell you what though, tomorrow night I'll go down to Wendy's and get a hamburger if it will put your mind at ease, eh?" He smiled and cupped England's cheeks with both hands.
The sandy blonde blushed and averted direct eye contact. America had been a lot sweeter to him recently too. It was by far no secret that he and Alfred were shaking up together but they weren't an item or anything and suddenly Alfred is acting all lovey dovey towards him. They've never even exchanged the "L" word.
"Come on Arthur, don't look away." He pecked the elder on the lips and wrapped his arms around his neck, leaning closer and nipping at the other's ear playfully. "I have to go home to finish up some paperwork tomorrow. But before then, why don't we have a little fun, eh? I'll let you top me again.~"
Arthur could feel his cheeks heat up and his pants tighten. Now that was definitely odd however England was by no means complaining. It was rare that Alfred wanted to make love so often, and even rarer that he let Arthur top. So he pushed his last reservations to the back of his mind and wrapped his arms around America's waist, one hand sliding down to grope his arse.
"My, my, you're a frisky little bugger, aren't you?"
*Time Skip*
America opened the door and walked inside into his brother's home in Canada. He set down his things and headed toward the basement, passing Mr. Kumajirou on the way. "Who are you?"
"I'm America, eh?" The wheat-blonde nation replied as he moved past the bear and into the basement, closing the door behind himself.
Inside, at the bottom of the stairs, laid a blonde figure chained wearing a leash that was chained to the wall behind him.
America just glowered and kicked the person none too gently in the side, knocking them off the last step. "Really Alfred, the fuck have I told you about sleeping on the stairs?"
The chained up blonde only whimpered and looked up at his mirrored twin pitifully. "Mattie…please let me go…I wanna go home…"
"It's nice to want, isn't it?" America, no, Canada smirked darkly at him. "I've waited long enough for this so you can just dwindle away down here for the rest of your fucking life while I run both our countries, eh?! I was even nice enough to bring you some food. You think you'd show your adoring big brother some kind of gratitude." He huffed.
Alfred tried to sit up but having no arms or legs past your knees and elbows made it difficult. Matthew had originally planned to just cut off all his limbs but he found Alfred in this state to be much more morbidly comical.
"Grateful for fucking what?! You're supposed to be my fucking brother Matt! But you kidnapped me, drugged me, cut off my fucking arms and legs, tied me up in the basement, stole my lover and pretended to be me and oversee my fucking country. How the fuck am I supposed to be grateful!?" He seethed, wriggling on the ground in frustration from not being able to sit up properly.
Normally, Canada would have found this hilarious but Alfred's potty mouth was starting to piss him off. So he promptly smacked Alfred hard across the face, and watched as the other pitifully whimpered and to rub his stinging cheek with his shoulder to soothe it.
"And you're supposed to be my brother, eh? You're supposed to be there for me, remember my birthday, remember my name or at the very least remember the fact that I even exist! Everyone always liked you better. Even Papa has always compared me to you when he actually remembers me; well I'm sick of it, eh! I've always loved Arthur but you never have but you took him away anyways. You seduced him with your 'bad boy' charm and don't even give two shits about him. You lead a pussy rebellion, made him drink himself stupid, and years later the only kind of closure you could give him was the agreement to be fuck buddies. But not anymore, no, I'll be taking care of Arthur from now on." Matthew just looked with disgust at his brother.
"He could never remember me as Canada or Matthew, but he sees me as Alfred or America. Plus people mistake the two of us all the time so no one noticed anything wrong. I cut my hair, plucked out my curl, used a little gel to make a 'Nantucket' and wear your clothes and no one suspects a thing! In fact, I think everyone prefers the 'New' America more than the old one. Everyone is more friendly to me, I can run both of our countries smoothly and I'm taking plenty good care of Arthur."
"S-shut up! Just shut up! I don't wanna fuckin' hear anymore!" Alfred was in tears by now, knowing that none of his friends or even England had missed the real him and preferred the new fake one. It hurt even more because everything that Matthew had said was true. Everything except for one part, England. He really did care for England, in fact, he loved him. But he wasn't ready to tell him that. He had time, he thought that he had more time. But now it looks like he'll never get the chance to genuinely tell England his true feelings. "You're Mattie. Fuck…you've right about everything! Everything except for Arthur…" he sniffled. "I really did love him you know."
"Pfft, sure never showed it, eh? Doesn't matter. He's in my hands now. In fact he'll be coming over a little later to help me 'go over the gruesome scene'." His voice held malice and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife along with a sandwich. "See? Told you I brought you food."
Alfred shivered when he saw the knife and heard what Matthew said. "G-gruesome scene?" Matthew offered him the sandwich and despite his fear, his overwhelming hunger got the better of him and he messily chewed the food due to lack of limbs.
"Gruesome, yes. I called him 10 minutes ago and told him that I was visiting my brother Matthew at his home in Canada and when I walked in, the door was open and Matthew was downstairs in the basement, tied up with his throat slit and his limbs cut off!~" Canada giggled manically as he gripped his brother's longer blonde hair. It was perfect now, he'd left him down here long enough for it to grow to exactly the length that his hair use to be.
Alfred's eyes went as wide as saucers as he vainly attempted to escape his brother's grasp. "S-so not only are you taking my place, but you're killing me off in your place too?!"
"Oui. Oui I am. Au revoir Amerique-, non, Canada." With that Matthew drug the knife across Alfred's throat and looked down to admire the way his brother convulsed on the ground, limbless and choking on his own blood. Just then he heard a knock on the door and muffled shouting. Something along the lines of 'Alfred, are you in there?!'
Yep, it was definitely England. So Matthew wiped his knife clean, put it back in his pocket, and then took out a bottle of eye drops, giving himself a few good squirts before he ran out of the basement and opened the door and clung to England.
"Mon dieu, England, it's terrible! I-I found Matthew i-in the basement. H-he's cut his limbs cut off and his throat slit, he's fucking dead!" 'Alfred' cried into Arthur's chest and Arthur held him close. "Ssshh…lad it's alright. Shh…" Arthur did his best to calm his lover but 'Alfred' was in hysterics. Poor Alfred, he just lost the twin brother that he loved so much. The one that England could never remember but knew that America cared deeply for.
'Alfred' allowed himself to be soothed by his former mentor/ now lover and smirked darkly only to himself. The real America was gone. England would be completely his and only his, he would love him and look only at him and no one else, for now and forevermore.