Ahoy! Managed to get this done :D Uhh you know the drill! Me no own!

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Warning: Self-harm

"Hey, I know! We should make them pancakes! Everyone loves pancakes!" Matthew nodded in agreement with his twin.

"Yeah, but we should let them settle in a bit first. Plus, I want a shower." Matthew said as he attempted to stand up from the sofa without showing his pain.

"Matt you okay?" Alfred asked as he saw his twin trying to walk to the bathroom almost doubled over. The weak sound of retching meeting his ears.

Matthew's eyes watered as he waddled across the room. "Fine Al, just aching from falling asleep on the sofa." He said weakly. Alfred didn't buy it but he knew his twin was ridiculously stubborn when he wanted to be so questioning him would be pointless and just piss them both off.

Matthew managed to open the bathroom door and shuffle into the room. His stomach felt like it had a blade inserted into it whenever he tried to move and his scalp was still burning. He decided a shower would help a bit so he carefully stripped off, not looking at himself as he did so, turned on the shower and stepped under the spray of water after putting his glasses on the side next to the sink.

After a while of just standing and letting himself get sprayed with the shower the pain began to subside enough for him to wash himself. He started by washing his hair and conditioning it, then picked up the soap and gently cleaned himself. He went to wash his arms and sighed as he felt all the little ridges and bumps from scabs and scars accumulated over the years. Every time he was reminded of his …habit… he felt guilt start to overwhelm him at the promise he had made to his brother. Alfred had once walked in while Matthew had his hoodie off and had seen the cuts. After a rather heated argument between them and a lot of tears Alfred made Matthew promise that he wouldn't hurt himself again.

But, life was unbearable without this release. He needed it to carry on, but he still felt guilty about it.

Matthew quickly cleaned his arms and legs where he felt the same ridges and bumps on his upper thighs. He hurried the rest and exited the shower feeling considerably better. He dried off but when he was about to get dressed he realised he hadn't brought a spare change of clothes with him. He groaned and wrapped a towel round his waist and another round his shoulders before hobbling as fast as he could to his bedroom.

Prising open the door he was met with his room. A single bed in the corner below the flag of his beloved homeland, or so he liked to think. His parents were separated when the twins were born and Al spent a couple of years in Texas with their mother while Matthew was in Quebec with his father. When their parents had gotten back together again they were reunited and instantly became inseparable. His room was sparingly furnished, bed, desk, chair, wardrobe, small bookcase and a small set of drawers by his bed was what his room consisted of. The walls were decorated with posters of his favourite hockey team, the Quebec Remparts, and his Canadian flag above his bed.

Matthew went to his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of loose jeans and a long-sleeved hockey jersey. He pulled them on delicately, groaning at the sight of his purpling stomach that was sure to be almost black in the morning.

When he was dressed he headed back downstairs and caught Alfred on the phone.

"Okay, I'll pick you up Saturday at 7…

…No, you hang up.

…I'm not hanging up until you hang up..." The sound of a beep was heard and Alfred looked at his phone in shock. "He hung up…." He turned around and Matthew could see him pouting.

"Al, if he had to go he had to go." Matthew said in response to the dejected look on his brother's face. "Shall we make the pancakes now?" That worked. Thought Matthew as his twin instantly started grinning and running into the kitchen.

A while later they were done and they had prepared a stack of pancakes in a Tupperware box. "Okay, let's go round and formerly introduce ourselves." Said the Canadian sibling to his twin.

They left the house and headed across the permanently deserted road to the house opposite. The car was still parked outside but the residents had apparently gone into the house as there was no one around. Alfred shifted anxiously on the spot as this house had always made him nervous. "Mattie if a ghost comes out, run. Cause you can't fight those! They're like, harm proof!" He said warily as he looked up at the large house that he had nightmares about when he was younger.

"Al, no ghosts are going to get us." Matthew sighed and rang the doorbell.

After a while they heard footsteps coming towards the door. "It has feet! It's not a ghost!" was heard coming from Alfred just before the door opened to reveal a tall blonde man with shoulder-length tousled hair.

"Ah, bonjour, unfortunately we are all atheists here and have no interest in converting." Ah, he's French. Thought Matthew at this strange man. He was wearing what appeared to be red leggings under a long blue top with 'Paris' written in glitter on the front.

"Uhh we're not religious…" Al muttered awkwardly, the Frenchman looked taken aback for a moment.

"Oh, are you selling something? We're kind-of busy at the moment so you might want to come back another time." He wasn't really paying attention to the people in front of him and kept looking inside the house, obviously wanting to go back inside.

"We live across the street, I'm Matthew and he's Alfred." Matthew introduced them in his usual quiet voice.

"We have pancakes!" Alfred interjected suddenly in that way which was typically… well, Alfred.

"Oh! Mon Dieu! How rude of me, and to think you went to the trouble of making these for us!" The Frenchman said dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead in a theatrical manner. "And two boys as cute as you both made them for us as well!" He said, continuing with the overdramatic gestures and voice. He actually looked at the pair for the first time. "Wow aren't we gorgeous!" He said, standing between the two boys and draping an arm over each of their shoulders. Matthew tensed and Alfred tried to untangle himself from the French blonde.

"Francis? Are you harassing those boys? We've only just moved in amigo! You don't want to get arrested already, it doesn't look good, you know?" Said a tanned lightly muscled man with dark curly hair and bright green eyes, and a smile that seemed like it was meant to be on his face at all times. He was wearing dark trousers and a short sleeved checked shirt with the first few buttons undone.

Francis sighed and released the brothers, putting his hands up in surrender. "Toni, I was just greeting our neighbours. I was only being nice mon ami. I shall go heat up the pancakes non?" he suggested and accepted the tub from Matthew who was hiding shyly behind his brother slightly, and went inside.

"Sorry about him, he's a bit of a drama queen. Anyway, neighbours huh? Hola! Mi llamo Antonio! Did you really make us pancakes?" He asked, still beaming widely. Matthew decided it suited him, made his eyes shine brightly. Alfred decided to speak up, "It's no problem bruh! I'm Alfred! And this is my brother Matthew. You bet your ass we made you pancakes!" Alfred laughed obnoxiously and the Spanish man's grin got even wider.

"Thank you, Alfred, Matthew! You guys are so nice! Come in, it's a little messy because we just moved in but I don't think it's too bad! Ludwig and Gil are out getting food and probably beer right now so you'll have to meet them later, I'm afraid…"

"Oh you mean the German guys? We met 'em earlier." Alfred said confidently although as they entered the house he looked anything but. His shoulders were tense and his posture was really stiff.

"Oh! So you're the ones that Gilly was talking about before…" He spoke as if he hadn't meant to say it out loud. Matthew was too shy to ask and Alfred was too distracted by the house to have heard. The house was old fashioned and spacious but not unwelcoming. It felt like somewhere which could be very warm and friendly with large open spaces and lots of rooms. They walked down the wooden-floored hallway and onto tiled flooring as they entered the kitchen. At the counter in the kitchen sat Francis with a fork in his mouth and eyes open wide.

"Uhh…Francis? Are you okay amigo?" Antonio asked nervously as he cautiously walked up to his friend. Francis didn't respond, instead he picked up another fork and cut a piece of pancake off the plate in front of him and gave it to Antonio who was hesitant at first but then accepted it and took on the same wide-eyed expression as the Frenchman had only moments before.

"Is it bad?" Matthew asked self-consciously, blushing with embarrassment at his plan having back-fired. After a few seconds Antonio snapped out of his daze. "That. Is. Amazing."

They both started eating the pancakes ravenously and had to physically hide the rest so there was enough for the other two who lived in the house to have some later. Afterwards, Francis insisted Matthew taught him how to make them. The next better part of an hour was spent with Matthew teaching Francis and then they both made pancakes together which were shared between the four of them. After a while Matthew's bruises and overall pain was starting to make him feel sick so he said he was tired and he and Alfred left for the evening with promises to have all of them round for dinner the next day. It had been one of the best evenings Matthew had ever had. Francis had been interested to know he spoke French and they spent most of the time talking to each other in rapid French while Alfred told Antonio where all the best places to eat were in the area.

Matthew pushed open the front door to their house and slowly made his way inside. He just wanted to go to sleep after such a tiring day. But he had made friends with the neighbours and was surprised at how well everyone got along. Alfred had completely forgotten his fear of the house as soon as Antonio had mentioned food. Then, after they announced that no one had bought any Matthew and Alfred invited them round for dinner the next day when he and Francis would cook everyone dinner. Matthew had made friends, he was so happy he had completely forgotten about his earlier day and the incident with Danny. It wasn't important. People had noticed him and after a while he began to feel more comfortable and was able to talk to Francis and Antonio without feeling nervous. It was great!

Well he did, until the phone rang.

Matthew looked at the phone and picked it up hesitantly, "Hello?"

"…Hi? Is that Alfred?" Replied an American woman. Oh great it's mum.

"No, it's Matthew." I do not feel like dealing with this.

"Are you a friend of Alfred's? Could you put him on please? Tell him it's his mother." Said the woman in response. Matthew just sighed and shoved the phone into Alfred's hands that lifted it to his ear in surprise. "It's for you." He said simply as he headed to his room, good mood gone.

He slammed the door to his room and locked it. He couldn't believe it. "Are you a friend of Alfred's?" He wanted to hit something, hurt something, hurt himself. He pulled out a book from his bookshelf, a dictionary, and flicked through to the pages near the middle where he had cut out a rectangle in the centre of the page and took out the blade he kept in there. He took off his jersey and threw it over the chair sat in front of his desk. He hovered the blade over his inner arm before pressing it against the skin and dragging it across while he hissed in pain. He then sat and watched as little red dots became droplets of blood and ran down the side of his arm, taking his worries and anger with it.

Matthew repeated the action a few more times until he decided he should clean everything up. He grabbed a handful of tissues and pressed them against the cuts, gritting his teeth against the pain. He then grabbed the bandages out of the chest of drawers by his bed and wrapped his arm tightly. When the blade had been cleaned and put back in the book Matthew pulled on a long-sleeve hoodie and fell into bed, completely exhausted now.

A feeling of relaxation took over him for the moment as he slipped into a sleep that would soon become fitful with nightmares of being tormented by a certain Cuban boy.

So...that was... Idk it's too late for me to decide, you tell me? :3 How was it?

:)

Flying Mint Bunny loved giving hugs but he's tired so now reviewers get to ride round Poland's "Wicked Hipster Pink" house on his beloved pony! :D

I am very tired (it's nearly 2am here) so I am going to bed now xD

Also, my reviewers are amazing! Even the ninja reviewers who add to story subscribe etc without reviewing (sneaky ninja folk... xD still awesome though :'D), and anyone reading this story! You are all sexy beasts.

~Oresama

Ohbugger!

Mon ami - my friend

mon dieu - my god

Mi llamo - my name is/I am called

... I think that was it...

I am terrible at French so I apologise if it is wrong xD