Hello again! CCM here!

I really want to thank anyone who has read my story, especially the four that reviewed. Thanks for the encouragement!

The thoughts of anybody will be Bolded and in Italics.

Again, I don't own Hetalia!


Matthew picked the furthest corner in the courtyard away from the school to sit down and rest his head on his hands. The Canadian was curled up in a shape reminiscent of a ball, and was letting his tears flow freely, even if he made no noise. The Vice-Principal had taken away hockey, one of the only things that made his school life decent, or at least bearable. His teammates knew who he was, and on the rink, he wouldn't be ignored. In fact, Matthew knew that his lack of presence gave him an amazing edge on ice. But now, there was no knowing when he could return to the place where he felt most at home and the least invisible. Whatever Al did had never gotten him into this much trouble before.

Trying to remove any thoughts of hockey for the moment, Matthew's thoughts redirected toward his parents. If the principal called his parents, Matthew seriously doubted that they would remember who he was immediately. He couldn't deny it, because it was the truth. Alfred was the twin who stole everyone's hearts, not him. Matthew knew that his parents would confront him though, and honestly, he was rather scared. Would he be able to keep Al safe?

'The only time your parents notice you is when you cover up for Alfred. It's not even for your own actions. No matter what, it's still for him. Give it up, Matthew.' The blond felt a new batch of tears forming behind his eyes. He wanted to say "Shut up!", but he couldn't. If these were his own thoughts, then there was nothing he could do about it.

Stuck in his sadness, Matthew didn't even hear the footsteps coming up behind him.


Walking out into the school courtyard, Arthur saw a hunched over figure in the corner, which he would have missed if he wasn't completely looking. Matthew wasn't sitting at the table in his line of sight. He was on the ground, in the corner, right where interlocking stone met forest. The Brit slowly approached, wondering what he was going to say. The only solution he came up with as he strode between tables and chairs, was to simply tap the sophomore on the shoulder.

Matthew turned his head while wiping his tears on the sleeve if his red hoodie. Seeing this, Arthur rummaged through his pockets, retrieving a packet of tissues. The younger boy hesitantly took it from him, and Arthur took this as an invitation to stay. He sat down beside Matthew, and was silent while Matthew tried to wipe up the last of his tears and clear up his nose.

"Are you alright?" asked Arthur, who was genuinely worried. Matthew nodded slowly, still getting over the last couple sniffles. Deciding against telling Matthew that he saw it all, he went for a shortened explanation. "I heard what the principal dealt out. I don't know what you did, but if you ever need any help, the student council is here for a reason." Again, Matthew nodded, but this time, glanced at the older teen as well, whispering a soft "Thank you." Arthur gave him a pat on the shoulder.

They sat in a somewhat comfortable silence until the bell rang, signaling the period change. By now, any tears had dried up, and Arthur decided to try and bring Matthew back inside. "You can't sit here forever, lad. Do you want to go to class? If you don't, I'm sure that Mr. Vargas would let you go home. There's only one period left anyways." Matthew just shook his head.

"I'll stay for a bit longer, if you don't mind. I need to clear my head before going back in." The Canadian's voice was quiet, almost blending in with the wind that blew through the nearby trees. "Thanks for sitting with me, Arthur." Said junior smiled gently as he got up.

"No problem. Don't be too long now." Arthur turned to head back into the school, with one last look at Matthew, who had turned away from him. The gentle smile vanished the more he walked. He wanted to do something for the boy, but Matthew probably did not want Alfred getting in trouble. Arthur ran his hand through his hair. What in the world could he do?


Alfred tried to listen to the teacher and to focus in class, but he couldn't help sneaking looks at the door and at the empty seat where Matthew was supposed to be. Where was he? The principal couldn't keep Mattie for that long. It was the first time the administration had gotten involved in something Matt- no, HE did, so he was actually quite worried.

"Alfred, are you still with me?" called the teacher from the front.

"The hero is always here!" he called out in reply. As the class laughed, Alfred looked over to his twin's desk again. 'But where's the hero's sidekick?'


The end of the day bell rang, and people started spilling out of the doors. Matthew slowly made his way back in, trying to avoid any pushes or shoves as he went against the outward flow of students. Reaching his locker, the blond slowly started putting his stuff in his bag. He tried to get everything he needed to study at home, because that's what he was going to be doing if he wanted to keep his grades stable. Finishing up, Matthew went to lock his locker, when an arm draped around his shoulders.

"Hurry, Birdie! We can't be late for practice so close to the State Finals, especially not you, captain!" said Gilbert Beilschmidt, a defenseman on the hockey team. He was a junior, a good friend of Matthew's, and was proud that 'his little Birdie' was captain. "They grow up so fast!" Gilbert had said as he wiped fake tears away.

Matthew didn't know how to respond. He took a breath, trying to calm himself down, and told Gilbert the news. "Gil, I got suspended, and removed from any hockey activities until further notice."Gilbert stopped in shock. The albino laughed nervously, removing himself from Matthew's shoulders to stand in front of him.

"You're kidding, right? There's no way anything you've done could get you into trouble like this." When Matthew stayed silent, Gilbert dropped any possibilities that his friend was messing with him. "Matthew, what happened?"

The sophomore only looked down at his feet. He couldn't bring himself to look up at Gilbert's red eyes with his own violet ones, because he knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to lie. "The team will have to choose another captain for the finals. I'm sorry." With that, Matthew moved past Gilbert and out the front door, mixing in with everyone else.

Left hanging by his friend, Gilbert just stood there trying to make sense of what he had been told. What in the world had Matthew done to deserve this? Knowing Birdie, the boy was too mild mannered off the ice to even speak up. In any case, Mr. Vargas wouldn't go this hard on a first time offender. His face twisted into one of disgust as he realised who probably banned Matthew from playing his sport. Reigning his in anger though, the junior went to do the first thing that came to mind. Tell the team.

Gilbert ran as fast as he could to the rink, where he knew the team would be for practice. Did anyone else know yet? Bursting into the change room at full speed, he crashed into someone who had just finished speaking, and got a face full of pale blonde hair. The albino looked up at the person he rammed into, and glared at him with hate while rubbing his nose. "I knew it," snarled Gilbert, "Only you can give out cruel punishments like this." Mr. Beilschmidt looked down at his grandson with a matching glare before turning away and walking out the door. The junior kicked the metal door hard, muttering something about his grandfather having too many sticks up his ass. The harsh metallic sound echoed throughout the silent change room, where all the team members were worried for their future games, and most importantly, for their captain.

"What do we do now?" asked Tino, one of the team's centres. "There's no knowing when Matthew is allowed back." Everyone else seemed to be silently asking the same thing. The coach only sighed. Matthew was an amazing player, and one of the best forwards he'd ever coached. Together with the others, their team was unstoppable.

"We'll have to do our best, and hope Matthew can come back as quick as possible." With Berwald, Matthias, Ivan, and some other great players, the State Finals would be rather easy to get to, but having their captain missing made the Terra High Hockey team feel incomplete.


After walking home from school, Matthew was greeted by an empty house. Both his parents were at work, and Alfred was still at football practice. He put his keys back in his bag and took off his shoes. Dragging his feet up the stairs and into his room, he grabbed his old stuffed polar bear, Kuma...something, and buried his face into its worn, but stillwhite, fur. This was the only thing that helped him calm down right away whenever something bad happened. Thinking, Matthew realised Arthur was a pretty big help today, so he wanted to give him something in return. Letting his thoughts and his eyes wander as he thought, everything seemed to be fine, until Matthew caught sight of his hockey stick, and the jersey hanging from it. At that moment, reality came crashing down. For the next week, he would be here, all alone. Not at school, where he should be. Not at the rink, where his teammates were. Just at home. By himself.

'You knew Beilschmidt was going to take hockey away. You knew it.' The Canadian tried to argue with his own harsh thoughts. "But if I let him catch Al, then the football team..." His inner voice laughed. It was hollow, with no trace of humour. 'So what? Let them lose him. Let him feel this pain for once. It was his mistake, so he should have to pay for it.'

Matthew struggled, because he knew that even though he trying to argue, he was only looking away from the truth. 'You fool. You're too nice, too considerate. Look where it got you. And guess what? Your parents haven't even come home. You're in for it. You dug your own hole. Your own deep, deep hole.' The blond, still holding his bear, whispered softly to himself. "I know."


The tension present at dinner table in the Jones (and Williams) household was palpable. The silence was only broken by the clinking of forks and knives on plates. Alfred couldn't stand it. "Hey dad, mom, guess what? I totally threw an amazing pass at practice today, and Coach said he might make me Captain next year!"

'You're already captain of your team, Matthew.' The Canadian ignored the voice in his head, and gave a quiet congratulations to his brother.

Amelia Jones smiled at her younger stepson, "That's great, Al! Your dad was right! You're amazing at football!" Alfred beamed back. He had loved Amelia ever since his dad remarried. She was such an upbeat person. But, however happy Amelia was with Alfred at the moment, Frederick Jones was not.

"Al, did you get suspended today?" asked Frederick, "I got a phone call saying that my son is excused from school for the next week, and from Hockey team activities until further notice, and also has detention for the next two weeks after he goes back to school, all for a certain fight today. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Alfred almost dropped his fork. That much punishment? Well, he had beaten up three... four people pretty badly, so he guessed it was light, considering it was Beilschmidt that showed up. However, he had to play along with the cover up, even if he felt a bit guilty now. "What do you mean? I don't even know how to play hockey!" He gasped, hoping to make his little charade believable. "Mattie! Did you beat someone up?"

All attention was turned to the twin who had been quietly eating the entire time. "Uh... yeah. Forgot to mention it, eh?" said Matthew, glancing cautiously around the table. Amelia was looking at him in shock, Frederick had his eyes narrowed, and Alfred looked a little guilty, but was trying to mask it with shock. A clearly audible "Why?" from Amelia hung in the air. The tension had returned, and this time worse than before. Everything had stopped except the ticking of the clock.

Again, Alfred couldn't stand it. "Matt, you play hockey? Are you any good?" Matthew was in the middle of nodding when Frederick snapped.

"Matthew, go to your room. You're grounded for the next month, no, two months, and I don't care if it was for fun or for self-defense, YOU NEVER HIT ANY ONE." Frederick had stood up and was yelling now. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I DON'T NEED YOU CAUSING ANY TROUBLE FOR YOUR BROTHER DURING FOOTBALL SEASON. AND WHAT KIND OF PUNISHMENT IS BANNING HOCKEY? I BET YOU DON'T EVEN PLAY! BUT YOUR BROTHER IS NEEDED ON THE FOOTBALL TEAM! BE MORE CONSIDERATE AND THINK ABOUT OTHERS FOR ONCE!" Finished with his rebuking, Frederick sat down heavily, and muttered underneath his breath. "Just like his mother," was what Matthew heard.

The older twin stood up from the table, knowing that it could have been a lot worse. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again," replied the Canadian sofly. With no emotion, Matthew did what his father told him to without any backtalk. His steps were quiet and light, and there was no slamming of any door. Alfred didn't know what to do. He looked to Amelia, who just mouthed instructions to keep eating.

Amelia herself was trying to calm down Frederick, who was still a little red in the face. "This is what I get for letting Marianne take custody of him," said Frederick, sounding regretful. The lone female of the family just kept patting and whispering quietly to her husband.

Alfred knew this was his fault, and couldn't stop feeling bad about it. He decided talking to his twin would help him get it out of his system. "Mom, may I be excused?" asked Alfred. Amelia nodded, and told Alfred to put his stuff in the sink. After cleaning up, and looking another time at his mom, who gave him a strained smile, and his dad, the younger twin slowly made his way up the stairs. At the top, he turned towards his brother's room. Looking underneath the door, he saw that the lights were off. Carefully, Alfred knocked.

"Mattie? Can you hear me?" There was no response. Alfred felt his heart sink. "Oh Matt. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." When Alfred heard quiet sniffs, but no motion towards the door, he left for his own room, feeling like the worst brother in the world.


STILL TO BE CONTINUED!

Depending on how I want to write it, there should be either one or two chapters left.

And just like any other author, I would love Concrit, and reviews!

Again, Flames are fine, since you're just telling me that I could do better, but still.

Ciao!

CCM