AN: Ahh I'm sorry this chapter took awhile to finish, I've been very busy and haven't really had the time to finish this chapter until now :/ I left the country for a few days and I honestly had next to no free time, my apologies! But as of now, I'm going to try to at least have a chapter out every week! :D But anyways, I'm so glad people seem to like this! Thank you to all you lovely people who reviewed, favorited and followed, I really appreciate it! You guys are all awesome! XD I don't know how you people keep finding this, I just keep getting emails from Fanfiction about this one :P But yeah, enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia! If I did, you can bet it would be a lot smuttier :P

The Kirklands were fighting again. Matthew could hear it even from outside, where he stood with his fist in the air, prepared to knock… And where he continued to stand, hand not going anywhere near the old wood of the door. He'd been standing like that for a few minutes now; he had first paused when he heard the sound of shouting from the other side of the door, and had reconsidered knocking. With a sigh, he finally lowered his hand. The yelling didn't seem to be coming to an end anytime soon. From what he could tell, the fight seemed to be something about Arthur skipping school. Matthew had no intentions of interrupting another one of the brother's fights; they were far from a pleasant experience. He had been caught in the middle way more times than he would have liked, by the end of them Arthur was usually locked in his room and Matthew had to force some awkward conversation with the elder of the Kirkland brothers. But with some time the conversations usually got a bit less awkward, and the two developed something along the lines of a friendship. If you could call it that.

So, instead of forcibly putting himself between the brothers, he decided to just wait it out and sunk down to a sitting position, back pressed against the door. If he had a choice, he would've just left, but…I guess you could say his options were limited. So Matthew just sat there, every few seconds having his eardrums assaulted by another enraged scream from inside the house. A few of the louder ones caused Matthew to flinch a bit. God Matthew hated fighting…Why was everyone always fighting? Couldn't people just get along and be nice to each other…? Was it really that hard? But, Matthew wasn't stupid and he knew that wasn't how the world worked. As much as he didn't like it, he knew the world could be a very hateful place…

"I CAN DO WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT ALLISTOR YOU'RE NOT MY BLOODY FATHER! NOW WOULD YOU STAY THE HELL OUT OF MY LIFE?!" Matthew jumped in surprise as the door was thrown open behind him to allow and angry Brit to storm out of the house. But, as luck was never on Arthur's side, instead of making his point and stomping his way out of the house, he tripped over the boy seated in front of the door and his face slammed against the pavement. "Mmph!"

"O-oh, I'm s-sorry…!" Matthew apologized profusely, scrambling to get to his feet, "I d-didn't m-mean to…! I'm s-so sorry…!" He quickly offered his hand to help Arthur up, but it was rejected as the Brit fought his way back to his feet on his own, a hand going to his nose.

"It's fine, Matthew," he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice, "but what the bloody hell are you doing here?" Arthur glared at his friend, not particularly mad at him, but just pissed off in general due to his fucking twat of a brother. Couldn't the bloody git just leave him alone?!

"O-oh… I u-uh… L-locked out… And u-uh…" He stuttered, stumbling on his words when he noticed a trail of blood seeping through Arthur's fingers. The guilt hit him quickly and again he felt the need instant to apologize. "Are you o-okay…? I'm really s-sorry…!"

"I said it's fine Matthew," Arthur stated coldly, none of the bitterness leaving his voice as he turned and walked away, leaving Matthew standing awkwardly at the door. He shot a sharp glare at Allistor as he passed by him, grabbing a handful of tissues to take the place of his now bloodied hand over his nose.

"… Are you coming in?" He questioned after noticing his friend was still standing at the door, unsure if he should leave or not.

"… Can I?"

"Don't be stupid, of course you can," Arthur told him as the tissues were slowly reddened by the blood flowing from his nose like a fucking fountain. Matthew hesitated before stepping inside.

"Ye alright, Arthur?" Noticing the blood Allistor went over to his brother who was hastily grabbing more tissues. A few drops of blood hit the ground before he could cover his nose again with the clean tissue.

"Yes I'm bloody alright you damn git! Now bugger off!" he ordered Allistor furiously as he exchanged his already blood soaked tissues for newer ones. Screw fountains, his nose was a bloody waterfall. Literally.

Allistor sighed, "just makin' sure yer okay Artie, no need to get pissed," if his brother was trying to calm him down, than he sure as hell wasn't doing a good job. If anything, he was achieving the exact opposite as Arthur could feel himself getting more pissed off by the second. How dare he say something like that?! How dare he?!

"Since when do you bloody care if I'm okay or not?!" Arthur demanded, "since when do you give a fuck what the hell happens to me?! YOU DON'T ALLISTOR SO YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT!" Allistor looked slightly appalled at this little outburst.

"… Artie I'm yer brother, of course I care!" the elder of the Kirklands stated. No, he lied.

"Oh cut the crap Allistor! I'm not an idiot I know you don't care! And why the hell would you?! So just… Just stop bloody saying things you don't mean!" Arthur yelled boldly before leaving to his room and locking himself inside. He also shoved a dresser in front of the door... Just in case... Shut up, his brother was strong.

He heard his older brother call out to him a few times, and as expected there were a couple attempts to get in the room, all futile. He just ignored him and cranked up his music as high as it would go, effectively drowning out his brother's voice.

After a few minutes Allistor decided it was time to give up, his brother wouldn't budge… He'd have to take care of this later, hopefully when Arthur was in a more reasonable mood. He finally left Arthur's door and returned to the living room, where he caught sight of Artie's friend Matthew standing there, trying to decide if he should leave or not. He was leaning towards just spending a night on the streets when his thoughts were interrupted by an exhausted sounding Allistor.

"Locked out of yer house again?" He asked and received a small nod in response from the younger boy. Allistor sighed. "Well, I don't think Artie will be openin' the door anytime soon… Ye wanna just stay in my bed for the night? I can take the couch," Allistor offered, to which Matthew quickly shook his head.

"N-no thank you, I'll just sleep on the couch…" Matthew quietly denied the offer, not wanting to be rude. He appreciated Allistor's kindness, he really did. Arthur's brother seemed to always make an effort to be nice to him, and he might even go as far as to say he considers Allistor a friend, despite the age difference and the fact that he could sometimes be kind of intimidating. The two had actually had plenty of chances to talk to each other, as this wasn't the first time Arthur had stormed off, leaving Matthew alone with his brother. At first he had just forced some conversation with the older man, but he had actually really grown to like him. He always made Matthew feel welcome here, and he couldn't even say that much about his own home.

"Ye sure? I really don't mind the couch Matthew the bed is all yours," he offered again, and after a few minutes he had finally managed to convince the quiet boy to just take the bed. It was a lot more difficult than it should have been, but no more effort than he had expected.

Arthur wasn't at all surprised when he found his brother to have left from his door. Why wouldn't he have left? It's not like Arthur actually expected the man to stay, he wasn't worth his precious time. The twat knew Arthur was right. He didn't gave a shit what happened to his brother. He was the same old self-centered Allistor that Arthur had grown accustomed to, and his mind told him that wouldn't be changing anytime soon. Although his naïve little heart still wanted to believe the loving brother he grew up with was still buried in there somewhere, and it longed to be held by that brother, it missed him. But his clever mind always squashed those ridiculous thoughts as they came in, not giving them the chance to flourish or turn into something silly like hope, or god forbid love. He hated Allistor and that was that. End of story.

Arthur glanced around his room, craving an outlet for all those bloody feelings that just appeared out of nowhere! Keeping them at bay was becoming so much more difficult. But in specific, he could feel his pale fingers lusting for a pencil. He felt the sudden urge to glide his pencil across a smooth, unmarked piece of paper, to mar the pure white of it with the darkness in his mind. He would be glad to satisfy that urge, and quickly grabbed the pencil he always kept nearby, from where it was currently lying near the bed. But it's at that moment he noticed something. And what he noticed... was absolutely horrifying. His sketchbook wasn't there. It just... it wasn't there. If there was a competition for things that were there, that sketchbook would come in dead last along with that twenty Arthur lost a week ago as they were both just completely and utterly gone! That beautiful, thick book full of blank pages that were equally as numerous as the ones already disfigured by the tip of his pencil, was missing. It wasn't in his school bag, it wasn't sitting haphazardly on his bed or lying open on his desk, it was nowhere to be seen in fact. It wasn't even buried deep in the depths of his closet and yes, he did check! Arthur could feel his heart begin to race in his chest as he scoured the room, becoming more frantic with every second he didn't have that paper safe in his grasp. But even after tearing apart the room, he still came up empty handed. The sketchbook was still missing.

I know what you're thinking... This may seem like a little bit of an overreaction... But I assure you, it isn't.

Arthur thought back to the last time he saw it... He was absolutely positive he had left the sketchbook in his bag. There was no doubt in his mind anymore, it had to be at school. There was nowhere else it could be. His beloved sketchbook was hiding somewhere in that god forsaken building. Or even worse, in the hands of one of those bloody wankers attending the school. He shuddered at the thought, hoping to god it would never make it's way to those three people that could never see it. Why had he even brought that bloody sketchbook to school?! What the hell had he been thinking?!

Deciding it was time to get his mind off the sketchbook and just who's hands it could potentially have ended up in, Arthur reached over to open his window. He was starting to drift into that paranoid state of mind where his thoughts began wandering to all the possibilities that could come of this... None of them were pleasant.

Arthur took a breath, and with some effort, managed to heave the window up high enough that he'd be able to squeeze his skinny little body through it. A small smirk crept it's way across Arthur's face, twisting up the edges of his lips that were usually content in their default frown. He was pleased with himself, he always felt quite proud every time he forced that heavy window open. He was defying Allistor. And to him, that really was the best feeling of all time. Allistor could try all he wanted but Arthur would never let himself be controlled. Not by anybody, and definitely not by him.

Ducking his head under the window pane, he grabbed the ledge and slowly pulled himself through, careful not to make any noise to alert his brother of his sneaky departure though. Not that he could get in anyway, but he still didn't want that soulless redhead pestering him. He swung one leg through and quickly bit back a cry of pain as the heavy window collapsed and crashed down on his other leg.

"B-bloody hell!" He stuttered under his breath, attempting to pull his leg free only to be met with another rush of pain through the trapped limb. His teeth dug into his bottom lip and with all his strength he pushed on the window, attempting to free his imprisoned leg. But to no avail... He really did need to work out more... All his strength wasn't enough to so much as budge the window. A groan of frustration escaped his lips and he suddenly heard a horrible sound. Footsteps. But not just anyone's footsteps, those were Allistor's footsteps. He could tell his brother's easily apart from everyone else, nobody walked quite the same way as him. They were approaching the door, right now. He didn't have much time. What the hell would his brother think if he found him like this?He imagined he looked quite stupid at the moment. And the wanker would probably try to ground him.

Oh don't be stupid you asshat there's still a dresser in front of the door! He won't make it past that!Arthur reminded himself as he slowly started pulling his leg out from the window, one inch at a time. He felt himself wince a few times in pain, and distantly heard his brother calling his name, but he payed it no mind. After a few minutes, he had successfully freed his leg from it's own personal trap and he tumbled to the ground. The window fell with a loud crash, and if Allistor hadn't been suspicious already, he sure as hell would be now. The boy quickly got to his feet and bolted away, ignoring the pain in his leg as he wouldn't be giving Allistor a chance to catch up.

Arthur did know exactly where he was going, he didn't just randomly leave. There was a house party a few blocks away, a friend of his had texted him about it awhile ago. Well... Friend being a very broad term of course.

He read the text over again to be sure he was headed the right way, which he was, and he quickly told his...friend... He'd be there soon. His writing disgusted Arthur though, was he incapable of learning basic grammar? And was it really that difficult to spell out words like "Are" and "you" and the like? I don't know, it just annoyed him. Arthur was always careful to write and speak in perfect English.

He reached the house soon later, checking the address again to verify that he's in the right place. Although the action really was meaningless as he could already hear the muffled beat of the overly loud music even from out here, and feel the gentle pounding against the soles of his feet. Yes, he definitely had the right place. The boy sighed, not making a move towards the door yet and instead rolled up his pant leg, as best he could with those damn skinny jeans. Already turning purple... God that sure was one strong window. Or one weak Englishman... He was leaning towards the second one. Again, he really needed to get in shape.

Arthur gently poked one of the dark bruises forming on his leg and immediately regretted it as his leg was assaulted by pain. Gritting his teeth, he eased his pant leg back down and went to the door, not feeling a need to knock. He coughed a little at the sudden bombardment of smoke, and stepped inside. The smoke was really coming from all around, but Arthur did note three people in particular towards the back of the room that seemed to be the source of most of the foggy air in the house. Two guys and one provocatively dressed girl, Arthur hoped by the end of the night he'd have gotten some of that for himself... Not the girl! No! Don't be disgusting, it was the weed he wanted you pervert! Get your head out of the gutter! He wasn't into girls anyway, he really was just as much of a faggot as everyone knew him to be. And those guys weren't even hot! Just some dirty stoners...Literally dirty! Not dirty as in... oh forget it, what does it matter anyway?

"Arthur!" He turned his head as he heard the familiar voice calling his name. And of course, there was Kevin, the one who had invited Arthur to the party. "Hey! Why the hell are you so late?" his friend demanded, and Arthur gave him a simple shrug.

"Sorry, had some trouble sneaking out," Arthur replied as he grabbed at a nearby glass of some sort of alcohol. What kind, he wasn't sure, that information was beyond him. But all that mattered to Arthur was that it was alcohol. He downed it quickly and his throat was immediately ignited in flames by the hard liquor.

"Well whatever, glad you made it," he said as Arthur coughed into his hand. Seconds later, through his minor coughing fit he felt an arm sneak it's way around his little waist. He glanced at Kevin out of the corner of his eye and raised an eyebrow, "Yes?"

"You know there's an empty bedroom upstairs if you want to have some fun..." Kevin mentioned with a wink, hand inching it's way closer to Arthur's more private regions. But to his disappointment, the hand was quickly smacked away.

"Do I look drunk enough to sleep with you Kevin, I just bloody got here! Have some respect you git, at least wait until I've had a few drinks before you try getting in my pants!"

"Geez, calm down, you're the one that kept me waiting!You were easy enough last time anyway, so just stop acting like such a fucking prude and get your ass upstairs before some drunk chick decides she wants to get screwed in the bedroom," he said with a rough tug on Arthur's arm.

"Ow! I am not a prude!" Arthur yelled, ripping his arm out of his friends grip, "if you're going to use this attitude then you won't be getting anything tonight!"

"Oh come on, we all know you're nothing but a little whore Arthur, you want it as much as I do, so would you get your ass in the goddamn bedroom already? I don't have all night!"Arthur felt himself wince a little at the word whore, and after a short pause he nodded with a sigh.

"Fine, just meet me in there alright? I at least want to get a little drunk before hopping in bed with scum like you," Arthur said as his hand searched around for something else to drink, locking on to what appeared to be an unopened bottle of scotch.

"Yeah yeah, call me whatever you want, just be quick," the boy lit a cigarette and headed upstairs to wait for Arthur.

Naturally, Arthur took his sweet time downstairs, feeling a tiny bit of satisfaction in making the prick upstairs wait for him. He let the liquor pass slowly through his lips, occasionally taking the time to even spark up a conversation with some acquaintances of his. The minutes ticked by, more alcohol flooded his system and Arthur's vision began to grow blurrier. As he rambled on to one of his best friends, who just so happened to be a potted plant, about some unimportant nonsense, he suddenly remembered he had left his friend waiting for him upstairs! How absolutely rude of him! He hastily muttered an apology to his friend and tottered his way over to the staircase, doing his best to stay upright. Arthur looked up at the staircase, the size of it more than just a little distorted in his drunk haze, and nodded to himself.

Challenge accepted.

But in the end, the young British boy never did make it to the top of the staircase...

AN: Well, Chapter two is finished! Hope you liked it, and I'd love it if you left a review! :) I will be updating this again as soon as possible! And again, don't forget to review... :3 If I can get enough people to read this my hope is that I'll be able to change the outlook on this pairing! :D Wouldn't that just be amazing~? I really do love ScotEng :)