"Do you ever THINK, Alfred? About the consequences? About how I felt? Of course you didn't, because you're only ever thinking of yourself…And this is why we can't be together anymore."

"Wha-? What do you mean? I didn't mean-! It was just a small thing..."

"Small thing? Alfred, it's been many 'small things'! Small things add up and become bigger, and now I'm done. I can't do this anymore."


Inside the house of Alfred F Jones…You could barely tell it's was a bright and sunny Friday afternoon. Piles of paperwork and old food containers littered the floor, if there even was a floor anymore. The only clean room in the house was the bedroom…Their bedroom.

A sharp ringing filled the sleeping nation's ears.

"Oh, say! Can you see by the dawn's early light?"

"No…" He was beginning to regret setting his ringtone for his own anthem.

"Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, "

"Shut up..." He buried his head in his pillow.

"O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave-?"

"Oh for Christ's sake-" He pushed the answer button on his phone angrily. "WHAT?" He shouted into the mic of his smart phone.

"Uh…Hey Al." The voice on the other side said sheepishly.

"Oh..Matt, hey…" Alfred responded coyly to his brother, the nation of Canada. "S-sorry about that…What can I do for ya?"

Matt cleared his throat and came back to the mic. "Alfred…I've been worried about you since-"

"Please…don't mention it." He interrupted.

"Sorry, I just…" Matthew exhaled. "You haven't left your house have you? And I bet your place is filthy and…you've been sleeping on the floor, haven't you?"

Alfred's breath caught in his throat. Matt could always predict his behavior. "How..? How do you do that?"

"Because I'm outside, you don't cover your windows as well as you think you do. Come open the door."

Alfred shook his head and lurched himself down the stairs and waddled his way through the trash. Opening the door, he felt the outside breeze and breathed it in; A breath of fresh air, indeed. Matthew walked in and shut the door behind him, dropping his bags to the floor; Alfred eyed them curiously.

"How long are you staying?"

"Two weeks."

Alfred's brow rose. "I thought you would be with Francis…?"

Matthew's expression changed. "He…Has requested to be alone now. Otherwise, I would…" His voice cut off and they left it in silence. Alfred felt terrible. He never even asked if either of them were okay after the bombings in Paris. He wanted to say something now, but he felt it would be redundant by the look on Matt's face.

Alfred picked up his brothers bags and took him upstairs to the only clean room. He was reluctant, but felt guilty that he had been so swallowed up in self-pity that he couldn't even check on his brother after the love of his life had been attacked so viciously. Matthew seemed to notice this change in behavior, as he took his bags from Alfred and placed them in the hallway.

"This is your room, Alfred. I won't sleep in here, YOU need to sleep here." Matt crossed his arms. Alfred just nodded in compliance, though he knew he wouldn't. He couldn't. The room was too perfect and yet he didn't have the heart to disturb it.

Matt once again sighed. He knew his brother too well to expect much in terms of listening to what he said; but he also knew that getting Alfred working on something would be good for him. "Well, let's get started."

Alfred began to protest when Matthew hushed him. "You haven't cleaned this house in as many months as you haven't called." And they started cleaning.

It took eight hours with two half-hour breaks in-between to get the house moderately clean. The front yard had been cluttered with at least fifty bags of trash and they weren't even able to touch the basement; But overall, the house was a much a better environment to be in, plus, the smell had improved drastically. Alfred had passed out on the couch with old Looney Toons reruns, cuddled between an old American flag blanket and a union jack pillow.

Matthew moved around silently, arranging small things in the kitchen when he opened the pantry cabinet and found the biggest ball of fur he had ever seen. "What…?" He reached in and poked the ball with his index finger, it moved slightly and he withdrew his hand quickly. The fluff turned over and mewed.

"Oh geez…Hero, you are the fattest cat I have ever seen..." He groaned and pulled the heavy cat out of the cabinet. Hero was already a big cat, a brown and cream-colored Maine Coon with layers of fur all over him; but it seems that he got into the cabinets and survived for these few months on the food stored in there. Matthew cradled him and Hero looked up to him and batted at the long strand of hair coming from the top of his forehead.

"You're too cute...I should've brought Kumajiro with me so you-"Before he could finish his thought, he felt a vibration in his pocket; he pulls his phone out and checks it, one message.

*Is…he alright?*

Matthew glances over at his sleeping brother and places Hero on the top of the couch where he curled up and went to sleep. He tapped at his phone, the keys making soft 'blip' noises in reply.

*I don't know.*


And there you have it folks! First chapter of my newest fanfiction.

I have been away from this site for almost 4 years.

Please, PLEASE, let me know what you think about it.

I'm not a child, please give me your unbridled criticism.

I crave your words.

Also. If you have suggestions on stories, pairings, etc.

Send me a message.