Hey, there! My name is Right, and I'm one-half of this two person fan fiction account. My partner, Left, and I work on about 99% of our projects together, sharing writing fifty-fifty while doing so. We currently have numerous stories we're working with and swapping between the two of us that you can hopefully look forward to soon! Be that as it may, in my down-time I started writing this AU based upon one of my favorite movies, Sleepers (1996). While this AU is loosely (VERY loosely) based upon this movie/novel, it is not necessary for someone to be familiar with the material to follow this story. However, you should know that it is a very graphic story.
So, here goes my first Hetalia fic! As well as Christening this account.
Characters: (Human Names Used - More May Be Added/Cameo In The Future) America, Canada, Spain, Rome, England, France, Germany, N. & S. Italy, Japan, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Seychelles, Sealand, Cuba, Prussia, Estonia, Lithuania, Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, Vietnam, Greece, Vatican City, Austria, Hungary, OC!Historical Figures, OC!Civilians
Rating: M
Warnings: Angst, Drugs, Substance Abuse, Religious Overtones, Child Abuse, Swearing, Violence
Disclaimer: Hetalia: Axis Powers © Himaruya Hidekaz, this is a fan created story.
Prologue: BANG
I am by no means a writer. What you are reading is no novel.
Who I am has mattered less and less over the years. I change my mind about that too much.
I am a what. And what I am is a brother.
And my twin . . . Well, I miss him very much.
It was the twenty-third of December. 1981.
We were in New York, my brother and me. He had wanted to spend Christmas at my place in Quebec. After all, it had been my turn to host our get-together.
I had insisted, though. I needed a break from my town, my home.
When I came to Hell's Kitchen, I was carrying my weight in mental baggage. As usual, my brother could sympathize. It was something he jokingly called a "family trait."
We attended mass at his favorite chapel. I restrained from asking how his praying had been recently.
Finished with our Catholic duties, I also brought up the proposal of drinking the night away. I never planned on getting drunk as a skunk, though I suspected he did, but I knew at least one drink could lighten things up. Our old neighborhood was not my favorite place to be but I dared to visit it both in the sake of nostalgia and for my brother.
I knew even as kids he would keep coming back to this place. It was part of his bones.
By the time we shuffled through newly crested snow and Alfred opened the door to what he bragged as being "the best bar on the corner" I sensed it was wrong. I knew it was wrong. But it was too late.
"They know my face around here," Al had continued his bragging as he closed the door behind us and brushed off his snow covered shoulders. His badge gleamed. "If I'm not a customer I . . . am . . ."
My brother's eyes were always an unmistakable, bright blue. The only exception to this was when he lost his face and became lost in someone I barely knew but had seen far too often.
His eyes dulled, simmering into a stormy gray mass as he stiffened his shoulders and stared at the bar. A patron already sat, but was alone, drinking some concoction that appeared to be whisky. I looked at him for only a second and I knew instantly who it was.
My heart raced and I glanced to my twin. I could not look at the man for any longer but Al just leaned back his head and looked down his nose at him.
He pointed with a shaking finger before grabbing my shoulder and drawing me close to his chest. I let out a small noise of protest but he ignored it. He was lost within himself.
"Do you see who that is?" he asked.
It was a dumb question. Of course I saw who that was. I sensed him from the moment we walked in and, suddenly, I was a twelve year old again, panicked and in pain.
My immediate offer was to go to another bar. I knew there were plenty to chose from, it was Hell's Kitchen. But Alfred was barely acknowledging my presence. His gray eyes were just swimming in madness as he finally released my arm.
"Don't," I pleaded in a hushed whisper.
He had already moved, though, making a bee line to the bar where the patron was answering the bartender's question.
"Al, don't," I begged.
Somehow I willed my legs to follow him and was soon standing only a few feet off from the man who smelled like coffee beans and bad liquor. My throat closed up on itself and I couldn't even manage to breathe as I stared at him. I was shaking.
Alfred plopped down onto the bar stool next to him, his maddened eyes sparking as he grinned a wild, crazed grin.
"How about you add a Sam Adams to that one," Alfred hissed. "His treat."
The bartender looked to Al with immediate recognition and shrugged at the request before turning around to fill it out. He probably took the moment as lighthearted joking between old friends.
I knew better.
The man turned and sneered at my brother, revealing his face to me for the first time. I began to feel faint.
It was him. Oh, God. Oh, God.
"Who the hell do you think you—"
Alfred slapped his badge down on the counter and looked forward at the bartender, as if more interested in watching his drink than looking at the man. The other was in complete silence as he looked utterly perplexed at the badge.
"What is this? You putting me under arrest?"
"No, not yet. I figure that the least you owe me is a beer," my brother reasoned coldly. I had never heard him speak so . . . calculating. "In fact, you owe my brother a beer, too. Walter, could you add a second Sam to that?"
I could have killed him for bringing me into this, but when the man turned his face to see me behind them, I lost all my will power. I couldn't even think until his black eyes were away from me again. Then I could take a small breath.
Alfred was ready to meet his gaze by the time the bastard turned back toward him. My twin's eyes darkened even further and his sinister grin had molded itself into a definite frown.
"You're starting to remember us a little bit, right? Because we're the twins," he said lowly. "But that's probably all you remember about us. We're just more faces from your hay day, right? You sick fuck. You can't even remember all the little boys, can you?"
I nervously glanced to the bartender who had stopped and was finally looking toward the nearby phone. Would he be willing to call the police on a cop, though?
The man, however, seemed almost bored at the turn the talk had taken.
Al folded his hands together on his lap and leaned toward the man, showing off that he was much bigger than the child he was so many years ago.
"See, I think that's something you assholes didn't think through," Al continued, his voice barely over a whisper. It sounded wrong coming from him. My brother was loud to the point of being obnoxious by nature. "You played your fucked up little games with dozens of little boys, so many you can't remember them. You never thought about how we'd never forget you."
The man stared but was otherwise blank. I could see Al wince and I knew it was working his limited patience.
"I remember everything," he added quickly.
My eyes wondered to my brother's hands and I could see that they had separated. I could also see one sneaking behind his navy coat, fingering the weapon holstered there.
Then my heart began to pound.
"Al," I spoke up, foolishly attempting to bring my brother back into reality.
"I remember everything you did, Magear Tweed," Al continued, his voice and body becoming more rattled with every breath. "I remember everything you did to me, my brother, and my friends. That's why I'm taking you in, you sick little fuck. I'm taking you in before you can touch another boy."
He withdrew his handcuffs and I felt my heart leap again.
My head was spinning and I was filled to the brim with an incomparable pride when I heard – nay, felt – a click in the air.
"Little shit," I heard that terrible voice speak up. "I'm not going anywhere, especially not with some faggot who moaned for his brother every night."
For a faint moment, I swore the earth stopped. I watched as my brother's eyes became a childish blue again, wide in shock.
There was a blast.
Then, as soon as it began, it was over.
Okay, so that was my first try at this, and the first story uploaded to our account. Please Review! I'd appreciate it more than you know!
~Right
