Whoo! Chapter 4 yo! Last chapter I didn't leave any notes because I had a friend put it up for me while I was out of town. I had to throw in Bieber. I could not resist because 1. I needed a Canadian singer and 2. He had a concert in my city and all I heard was 'OMG BIEBER I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES ASKHDSGHASDKGH'. And from grown women, no less. I think Alfred would only know Canadian singers that made it big in the States. I decided to switch it up with Jasen Derulo because the only other band that kept coming to mind was Nickelback. ...And I couldn't do that...

But thank you to everyone following this story, despite its sheer insanity. You guys rule! I hope this chapter is to your liking~ -crosses fingers-

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia because I don't deserve to.


"Matthew. Come out of the closet." Tino said kindly, knocking softly on the door.

"I'd say he's already out." Matthias snickered before Anders promptly elbowed him in the diaphragm with a scowl. "Ow—geez! Sorry."

"No!" Matthew shouted from inside the equipment closet. He was sitting cross-legged on a cage of dodge balls, surrounded by bottles of maple syrup. Grabbing one, he carelessly flipped open the lid and took a lengthy sip of the sugary substance. "I refuse to come out until Alfred is dead!"

"I can arrange that." Ivan said cheerfully, not flinching when Tino glared at him in exasperation.

"Isn't that a bit extreme?" The Finnish boy asked, turning his attention away from the unrepentant (and somewhat unhinged) Russian.

"He won't stop until he's dead!" Matthew said, voice bordering on hysterical as he tugged his bottle of syrup closer to him. "And I don't even think he'll stop then." He sniffled, bringing the bottle back to his lips.

"M'ybe y' sh'uld t'lk to 'im?" Berwald suggested. "B' th' w'y, p'dding 'r appl's'uce?"

"Pudding." The Canadian responded automatically. "And I want red Gatorade." He added in a tiny voice. "I also refuse to talk to Alfred."

"G't 't." The tall Swede nodded, turning around and leaving for the cafeteria.

"You're being ridiculous." Tino scolded. "And you're giving Ludwig an ulcer."

"No he's not." The tall blond whispered.

"Be quiet." The Finn snapped in a hushed voice. "I'm guilting him."

Inside the equipment closet, Matthew frowned, feeling guilt claw at his insides. "I'm sorry!"

"If you're really sorry then unlock the door."

"You'll make me go talk to Alfred."

"Just tell him he made his choice and you're over him."

"But I'm not!" Matthew wailed, hugging the bottle closer to him. "I still miss his kisses!" He flopped over, still clutching the bottle. "But I want to see him hit by a car too!"

"I can arrange that too." Ivan repeated.

"He's riding a sugar high." Tino said flatly, hearing the blond sob something about cuddling with Alfred while stargazing and then bludgeoning him to death with a lacrosse stick. "This is your fault Anders. You had to buy him maple syrup in bulk."

The Norwegian looked entirely unapologetic, staring back defiantly at the shorter player before shrugging and walking off (leaving Tino to stare in confusion and rapidly increasing anger at the retreating blond's back).

The remaining team members slowly backed away as the color in the fair-haired teen's cheeks darkened.

There was a reason he was called the White Death.


"You."

Arthur looked up, visibly annoyed at being interrupted just as Pip was discovering that the old convict was his mysterious benefactor. "What?" He growled, prominent eyebrows bristling as he glared at the newcomer.

Anders looked completely unimpressed, staring back with emotionless blue eyes. "You know why that moron broke up with Matthew."

"Um, well, yes—"

Anders' face seemed to darken. "You're coming with me. Now." He said lowly, dragging Arthur up by his starched collar.


When Anders returned, Arthur in tow, Tino was spewing rapid Finnish curses at the rest of the team while Berwald tried to convince Matthew that, no, Tino was not angry at him and that could he please open the door because his cream of mushroom soup was getting cold?

"G't th' r'd G'tor'de." He said cajolingly. "'nd p'dding."

Wordlessly, Anders took the tray from the tall hockey player and rapped on the door. "Matthew. Open the door for big brother." He paused. "And stupid Arthur."

There was a moment of silence, before the door unlocked and Anders kicked Arthur in before entering and pulling the door shut behind him.

"Good heavens, Matthew." Arthur gasped, staring in shock at his cousin who, for lack of a better word, looked like shit (but at least he smelled like maple syrup). He pulled out his embroidered handkerchief and licked it, before beginning to scrub furiously at the other's cheeks. "Have you been drinking syrup again?"

"Fuck you." Matthew grumbled, swatting away the sandy-haired teen's hands. He reached for the pudding cup but Anders slapped his hand.

"Soup first."

Pouting, Matthew took the bowl of soup and blew on it gently. "I hope Arthur is here to finish telling me what he started yesterday." He glared at the other teen. "Before he forgot."

"Between getting tackled by that idiot and getting ambushed again in the parking lot by a French twit, it was rather difficult to remember." Arthur said rather snidely before flinching as Anders raised his hand threateningly.

"Talk." The Norwegian teen ordered.

Arthur sighed. "Now, I should've told you a long time ago Matthew." He said apologetically as Matthew narrowed his eyes and slurped his soup. "Alfred only broke up with you because he was afraid you'd dump him first and he wanted you to realize how much you love him and come beg him to take you back." He paused, shuffling awkwardly. "He read it in a magazine that claimed doing so would strengthen your relationship." He glanced hesitantly at Matthew who was paused in mid-slurp.

Even Anders seemed to be visibly shocked. "What a moron…"

Matthew was unsettlingly silent so Arthur pushed on, unmindful of the rising tempest in his cousin's chest.

"He didn't want to but he thought it would be for the best. Believe me when I say he still loves you. And in his defense—"

"Don't you dare." Matthew interjected coldly, violet eyes blazing. His hands were trembling in quietly restrained rage. "Don't you dare try to defend him in front of me Arthur."

"Matthew—" Arthur started, before he dove to the side to narrowly avoid being struck by the bowl of soup. He winced as the bowl slammed into the wall before clattering to the floor. He looked up at Matthew who was red with rage.

"I'm going to kill him."

"No—"

"Do you have any idea how I've suffered for the past two years!" Matthew snapped, hands curling into fists. "I've been replaying that damn moment in my mind day after day! Every single detail down to where that stupid milkshake was from!"

Arthur winced, remembering the cold breakup. He had told off Alfred (loudly and violently).

("But I was only drinking the milkshake so I wouldn't throw myself at his feet and ruin everything!" Alfred had whined. "I didn't mean to come across as a douche!")

(The times Alfred is a huge douchebag are the times that he is trying his hardest not to be.)

"Medium strawberry milkshake from McDonalds." The blond snarled. "I've been blaming myself and going over every little thing I did trying to figure out where I went wrong! And this entire time it was based on a stupid idea he got from a magazine? A magazine?"

"He didn't know what else to do." Arthur argued weakly. "He wanted to please you."

"He didn't have to do anything!" Matthew cried, throwing his hands up. "I loved him!"

"He regrets what he did. He never forgot about you."

"Until he saw the hot girl in shorts right?" Matthew snorted, remembering his first day back.

"He still loves you Matthew!" Arthur said firmly, not really realizing that his defense of Alfred was just pissing the other blond off further.

"And, I," The Canadian laughed bitterly. "still love him. I couldn't even have a steady relationship because I kept thinking of his stupid goofy smile and his dimples and perfectly our hands fit together." The blond shook his head. "But you know what? Now I think my hatred of him was justified."

"Matt—"

"Do you know how messed up it is to love someone you're supposed to hate? Hate someone and still fall asleep thinking about them?"

"Its—"

"Don't answer that." The violet-eyed boy muttered before appraising the Brit with critical eyes. "And what about you Arthur?"

The green-eyed teen looked taken aback. "Wha…?"

"You knew this entire time and didn't tell me." Matthew was looking at him coldly. "How long did you know?"

Instantly, Arthur's face reddened in shame and he looked away, thoroughly embarrassed.

Matthew knew the answer, even when his cousin stayed silent.

"I never expected you to hide something like this from me. I know he's your best friend, but we're family. You knew and just stood by and let this happen."

"I only found out later." Arthur said defensively. "And I wanted to tell you. I tried—"

"You should've tried every single day." Matthew snapped, trembling slightly. He could feel tears burning in his eyes.

Arthur looked at his feet.

"You know, you're not the best cousin." He said quietly. "You once drove over my foot because you didn't see me in the driveway. You once got me kicked out of our yearly family reunion because you forgot we were related. And you used me as your taste tester when we were children." Matthew's voice was low and icy but his eyes glistened. "You beat up Francis when he tried to grope me. We bathed together until puberty." He shook his head in disgust and pushed past the berated teenager. "You're worse than Alfred."

Arthur felt like an arse. He didn't even put up a fight when the rest of the team strolled in and Matthias hoisted him over his shoulder.

He deserved far worse than a stint in the janitor's supply closet.


When Alfred sees Matthew stride towards him, violet eyes steely. He, in a perfect example of being completely unable to read the atmosphere, shoots to his feet and holds his arms out wide.

"Mattie!" He smiled widely, blue eyes guileless as he watches his ex-boyfriend approach. "Does this mean you forgive me?"

When Matthew grabs the front of his shirt, Alfred begins to quickly realize that Matthew does not forgive him. Not at all.

Alfred doesn't even have time to scream.


Matthew is suspended for a week.


One reason Alfred's parents refuse to press charges is because Mrs. Jones believes her son deserved the ass kicking.

"This is why you can't have nice things!" She scolded, glaring down at her teenage son with her hands cemented to her hips.

"I just wanted a pretty son-in-law." Her husband sniffed wistfully. He had been the biggest supporter of Alfred dating Matthew.

"Its okay dear." Mrs. Jones cooed, patting her distraught husband's hand lovingly. She turned a glare on her son. "Alfred will fix this and finally we can get back to planning Matthew's dream wedding."

Alfred, nursing a black eye and sprained wrist, just studied his Captain America comforter with thoughtful eyes as his parents walked out of his room.

Minor setback. He'd just have to try harder to win Matthew back.

It might just be a little harder this time.


The first thing Arthur does the next day is gather up Alfred's collection of girly magazines is burn them, content that at least Alfred wouldn't be able to use them for advice anymore.

He and the entire team roast marshmallows after a successful practice.

Out of quiet kindness for their incapacitated teammate, on their way back to the locker room, none of the players said that practice was successful because Alfred was absent.

(Even if it was true, as Lovino stated later to Alfred's face.)


When Matthew returns to school, every single student gives him wide berth in the hallway. The previously invisible blond is now the most talked about guy in school.

And he expresses his surprise to his teammates as he walks down the hallway and murmurs break out as he walks by, nibbling cinnamon roll (courtesy of Berwald).

"Just soak it up, Matt." Matthias grinned, trying to wrap an arm around the shorter teen's shoulder. "Smile and wave."

Anders just glares at him and pulls Matthew closer to him much to the Dane's displeasure.

"Yeah, no." Matthew said flatly, somewhat amused when a group of girls begin to blush and twitter when he glances over at them. One of them waves flirtatiously to him and he flushes.

"It was pretty sexy to see you throw Alfred over the table." Fridrik says quietly.

"You're my hero." Raivis whispered with reverence.

"My favorite part was when Jones landed on his face." Ivan added casually. "I believe I became semi-erect."

Unfortunately everyone knew that. That was pretty awkward.

"I bet you could club a baby seal to death with that thing." Matthias said thoughtfully, earning a look of disgust from his teammates.

"Why are you still thinking about that?" Ludwig asked, almost afraid to find out.

"You would win that bet, my friend." The Russian said with a benevolent smile. "Warmest hat I own."

The rest of the team stopped in horror. They stared at the pale-haired teen as he walked away.

There was a beat of silence before Matthias spoke.

"No, seriously, why do we keep him around?"


When Alfred sees Matthew again after their little tiff—

"Tiff?" Arthur repeated incredulously. "That was not a tiff, you buffoon."

"Lover's spat, then." Alfred had said dismissively.

"He beat you senseless." Francis interrupted, a gleeful smirk on his face.

"Look." The blond American snapped. "He and I will get past this."

The soccer team, which was sitting at the same table, burst into laughter.

"How many times does Matt need to beat you down before you back down?" Gilbert smirked viciously. "Just let me have him~"

"Go die in a ditch!" Alfred snarled, preparing to leap over the table and show the albino what for before Arthur tugged him down roughly.

"Enough, Alfred." Arthur said tiredly. "Just leave Matthew be. We've done enough to hurt the poor bloke." He glared at Alfred with narrow green eyes. "Just accept its over for good."

Alfred looked shocked. "It can't be! I'm so close to winning him back!"

"Clearly, your definition of close is different from ours." Arthur muttered.

-Needless to say, Alfred still felt a frisson of desire and love.


"Why did you even date him in the first place?" Tino asked curiously, opening a bag of potato chips and squirting a dollop of maple syrup on each as he passed it over to the teen. Secretly, he wondered what Matthew ever saw in the other blond and even bothered to give him a chance.

Matthew eyed the potato chip keenly, violet eyes locked on the treat. "Tino. Are you trying to sugar me up for some answers?"

Tino glanced guiltily at Berwald who merely kept a straight face (not that it was difficult for him, honestly).

"'s 't w'rkin'?"

"Yes." The Canadian chirped, snagging the chip and throwing it in his mouth.

"That's kinda gross." Matthias whispered loudly.

"Not really." Fridrik pointed out.

"Not to you." The taller boy sighed. "You eat rotten shark."

"If you really must know, he blinded me with science." Matthew said finally, eyeing the rest of the chips.

"Um…?"

"He's actually quite brilliant." The violet-eyed boy said off-handedly. He was quietly resigned to the fact that, even when he was Incredible Pissed Off, he couldn't just bash Alfred if it involved lying. "We were lab partners in biology. He refused to dissect the frog." He smiled a bit nostalgically. "It was then I realized he wasn't a brainless jock. When he tutored me for our midterm, somewhere between him quizzing me on the nervous system and offering to go play fetch with my dog, Kumanji, so I could finish my doodle of a guillotine decapitating our teacher, I realized…" He trailed off, a distant look in his eyes. Suddenly, snapping out of his daydreams, Matthew frowned darkly and grabbed the syrupy chip Tino was holding out.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter now."


Dear I fear we're facing a problem

You love me no longer, I know

Matthew froze, one hand on his open locker door as the music enveloped him, enticing him to turn around. Slowly he looked back.

Alfred stood there, earnest blue eyes (and a vivid shiner that Matthew remembered giving him in stunning clarity), holding his trusty boom box with both hands, a rueful expression on his face.

When his heart fluttered at the honesty in the other's face, he couldn't help it but shove it away and hate himself (and the idiot across from him) a little more.

"Arthur told you everything." He said softly, lowering his eyes. "Mattie, if you'd just let me—"

"You have some nerve." Matthew broke in, voice cold. He clenched his jaw, leveling a glare at the other. "You—"

So I cry and I pray and I beg

"I'm sorry!"

"Me too." Shaking his head, Matthew shut his locker and turned away, the upbeat melody shadowing him all the way down the hallway, Alfred's sad gaze burning on his back. He tried to ignore both resolutely.

Love me love me

Say that you love me


"I don't condone this."

"I don't condone mixing plaid and argyle but some people refuse to listen to sense."

"…I was talking more about Alfred continuing this stupidity." Arthur scowled, before adding. "And that look is timeless."

"No, not its not!" Lovino shouted, idly playing keep away with Feliciano while Antonio tried to steal the ball.

"Ve~ Lovi is right!" Feliciano sang cheerfully, neatly swiping the ball away from Antonio's near lunge for it.

"I don't understand why I want to hump you." Francis shrugged helplessly. "I refused to even kiss that pretty redhead because her shoes were last season." He glared accusingly at the Brit. "And yet I want to lick your eyebrows and **** your *** and put éclairs in your—"

"Not during practice Francis!" Gilbert shrieked, throwing his goalie gloves at his friend.

Arthur had already put several meters of distance between him and the sexually frustrated Frenchman before the gloves even made contact with Francis's head.


"Arthur. I need your help."

"No."

"You haven't even heard me out yet!" Alfred whined, stomping his foot and earning a glare from the elderly librarian.

"Does it involve Matthew in any way?"

"Well, duh!"

"Oh well that changes nothing." Arthur snapped. "He's already furious at me and I'm fairly certain he'll try to drown me at the next family reunion."

"Well, you do deserve it."

The glare Arthur gave to Alfred was pure venom. "I hope he kills you this time."

"Look, Artie." Alfred pulled out a chair and slid into, staring at his best friend with serious eyes. "Believe me when I say that this entire thing" he made a vague gesture by waving his hands in front of his face, "is fixable. I can fix it but I need your help."

"No." the sandy-haired boy snapped, reopening his book and trying to engross himself in the exploits of Sherlock Holmes.

"But if this plan works like I'm 99% sure Mattie will forgive you."

"Not 100?"

"Probability. I am almost sure this will work."

"I am not reassured."

Alfred scowled at him, eyes glinting dangerously behind his glasses. "Look, Artie, ole pal, dear friend of mine." He leaned forward, voice low. "You're going to help me or I swear on my indomitable American spirit I will slather you in garlic butter, stuff you in a giant plastic snail shell—which I have already ordered from this guy on CraigsList—naked, and leave you on Frenchie's doorstep.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."

The smile on Alfred's face was downright manic. "Love makes people do crazy things."


Epicness-of-Fail suggested Lovefool and I was like "Hells yeah" so I put it in. Now, I have to say, a lot of people agree that Alfred is an idiot and feel pity for Matthew. And, no, you won't find out that Matthew did anything wrong. It as all Alfred. What Matt is doing wrong, is that he's refusing to talk to Alfred but he's talking with others. I want to ask, though, how many people genuinely feel that Matthew should give Alfred a second chance? They both still care for each other, despite what happened.

Does Alfred deserve Matthew, even after everything?