Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia and I probably shouldn't own this fanfiction

It was getting warmer in the house. The once, frigidly cold home. No one knew why exactly, but yet at the same time, it was clear to everyone. The night time was no longer spent shivering or sitting wrapped up against each other for warmth. It was quiet, and enjoyable, just like it used to be, how it should be. Everyone's favorite day though, was Sunday. After the day the family went ice skating, France just could not bare to leave the family. He felt it; a connection. It was strong than any sort of feeling he had before.

He just didn't know what it was. Much less, how to explain it. The way he and Arthur had glided on the ice just felt so familiar. One thing was clear to him. He did have some sort of connection to the family of three.

So, every Sunday evening the Frenchman made the effort to come over for dinner. He didn't know exactly why he did this, but it just felt so nice when he did. His heart would stop aching and he felt...like it was whole again.

Arthur was delighted by this fact. Sundays reminded him of what it was like before the accident, just with the twins there and fully grown. It was a nice feeling to see his boys be able to get to know Francis, their technical father, and just act like a family. His heart still hurt of course, but it hurt significantly less. He could feel the void in his chest being filled whenever he heard the Frenchman laugh. That smile inducing laugh of his. The Brit could remember the first time he heard it, it was when they were both very young.

….

"I thought I told you not to come back here!" Arthur yelled, the Arthur who was only eight years of age. He had his hands curled up into fists with his famous green cloak on.

Just like every other day, the Frenchman had come back to Arthur's not-so-secret base to bother the intriguing Brit. It's like his 'base' was all the secret anyway, it was just a hole under a tree where the roots had made an opening. It was beautiful to look at though, the way the sun shone down on the small opening while the rest of the bleak forestry was surrounded by the shade from the trees. It was almost like something one would see straight out of a fairytale.

Francis, who was the ripe age of 10 going on 11, only smirked at the young boy and stuck his tongue out, "And I chose to ignore you. I don't see why I can't be here as well. You don't own this forest."

"Of course I don't own it, that's ridiculous. The fairies own the forest." the Brit scoffed. Didn't everyone know that? Forest sprites, fairies, and unicorns took care of the vast greenery and therefore, it was theirs.

"The what? Are you stupid, fairies don't exist!"

Arthur gasped, unbelieving what he just heard. Of course fairies existed, and now thanks to the french bloke, one of the various fairies in the world had met it's end. All thanks to that ignorant, arrogant, boy. The Brit's fists trembled with fury and before either boy knew it, one was screaming in terror as a messy-haired blonde began to punch his face.

"Get off of me you mongrel! You're getting my clothes and hair dirty!" Francis screamed as he pushed the younger boy off of himself. What on Earth was wrong with this child?! Surely he hadn't been offended by what he had said. Who had even raised this brat to begin with?

As the young Frenchman moved to get up, he found himself being hit with a stick," Would you knock it off already?!"

"No! You deserve this for killing a fairy you stupid jerk!" Arthur only continued to pester the fairy murderer in front of him. It was only right, of course he thinks it should be a life for a life, but he wasn't really planning on killing someone.

"I did not do anything of the sort!" Francis retorted as he took the stick and threw it as far as he could. Knowing that Arthur was probably going to start beating him up again, he grabbed the boy and smothered him in a hug so he wouldn't be able to cause Francis bodily harm any longer.

"You did t-Hey! LET GO OF ME! I DON'T WANT YOUR STUPID GIRLY GERMS! LET ME GO NOW!" the younger boy flailed around, but to no avail. After a few minutes of trying to be freed of his captor, he found it pointless to fight against the arms holding him down and let out a loud sigh.

"Are you done with your hissy fit now?" Francis smiled and looked down at the jaded Arthur in his arms. He was kind of cute with his face red and mixed with signs of fatigue.

"It wasn't a hissy fit…"

"Was too~"

"Who cares?"

"I care. You know you like a chubby bunny with those cheeks of yours."

"And you look like a…"

"A what? A God?"

"A frog."

"Quoi?!" Francis' face turned to one of disgust as he thought about the disgusting. slimy creature Arthur compared him to. He was very handsome for his age, how dare this little brat say something like that! His mother even told him, he was the prettiest, most charming, most handsome boy in the entire city. You know what they say, mothers never lie.

The Brit smirked at his tiny victory and stuck his tongue up at the Frenchman to boast about it, and what would you know? A frog just so happened to hop by Arthur's foot. The little creature was scooped into his hands as a devious smile appeared on his face.

"How dare you compare me to a fro-AaaaAH! Put that down!" with a scream, Francis instantly let go of Arthur and scooted away from the monstrosity he was wielding," You don't know where that's been!"

"But it looks so much like you! What if it's your long lost twin?" the younger boy slowly made his way over to Francis, a grin still plastered on his face," Don't you want to hold him?"

"No I do not! Get it away from me!" Wide eyes stayed focused on the frog, not knowing if he should start running or get ready to tackle Arthur to the ground and forcibly remove the creature from his grasp.

"Aw you're hurting his feelings." The Brit pet the frog on the head before he got considerably close to Francis, making the frog touch Francis' nose.

Francis sat there in horror, not knowing quite what to do in his predicament. He finally broke when the creature croaked at him and screamed, smacking Arthur's hand to make the frog be thrown somewhere else. He shivered as Arthur looked down at his hand where the frog was with a shocked expression.

A few tears fell down the boy's face, but it was obvious Arthur was trying to hide them with his sleeve. He didn't want to be crying over a frog, especially not in front of Francis, surely the older boy would tease him about it.

That wasn't the case at all though. He thought it was for a second, but he quickly found that the French boy and pulled the Brit into a soft hug, soft and gentle laughter ringing through the air. It wasn't a teasing sort of laughter at all like Arthur thought it would be.

"What are you crying about? Silly, it was just a frog. No need to get worked up about it." Francis rubbed the boy's back as Arthur buried his head against Francis' shoulder.

"You hurt it though.." The younger boy typically didn't like any sort of bodily contact, especially not by Francis, but this time he didn't mind it.

That golden laughter was calming. It was something he never wanted to forget. Arthur felt calm when he heard it, and it sounded kind unlike the teasing chuckles that his siblings so after gave him. No matter how annoying the French boy could be, it was worth enduring if he got to hear that laugh of his again.

….

Arthur felt exhausted. It was already the summertime and Alfred and Matthew were growing up so fast. Not to mention, they had far too much energy now for the Brit to keep up with. He prayed to God that his own energy would be able to keep his twins under control.

The two boys were out in the yard, kicking a soccer ball around while Arthur chose to sit on the porch and read a book while he watched the two.

Second grade was just around the corner, soon Arthur's sons would be graduating high school and setting off for college. That wasn't going to be for awhile though, the Brit was just going to try and enjoy the twin's childhood while it lasted. Matthew was starting to show signs of being a great writer while Alfred was proving to be a promising inventor despite his absurd ideas at times.

"Al! I'm sick of being goalie, can we switch?" Matthew whined as he plopped down onto the ground, beads of sweat pouring down his forehead.

Alfred was quite the little athlete, he was a strong kicker and threw fairly good punches for a seven year old," Aw..but I was doing so good!"

"Al, please?"

"But I don't want to be goalie!"

Arthur looked up from the book his was reading, the boys hardly ever fought and he wasn't going to let them fight over who was going to be goalie. That was just ridiculous," Alfred, switch with your brother." he scolded.

The boy pouted, but smiled and let Matthew be the one to kick the ball. After all, he still loved his twin," Alright, fine. But you're not going to get a single goal Matt!"

"We'll see about that~" Matthew retorted with a grin plastered onto his face.

With that, they spent their game yelling, laughing, and making other strange sounds while they took turns to kick the ball.

After awhile, it was their last round before their father was going to get them lunch. Alfred was the kicker and had a determined face, Matthew having the same expression. They were both sweating, having exerted most of their energy from their soccer game.

"This is going to be for the win." Alfred smiled wildly as he lined his foot up with the ball.

"Or the lose." Matthew reminded him as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, ready to block at any moment.

"Like I could lose."

"Bring it Alfred"

"You got it Matthew" they taunted each other before Alfred took a step back.

This was it, for the win. All or nothing.

Arthur watched in interest, finding it strange how the boys were getting so competitive with one another. It was quite the sight to behold.

The honey blonde held his breath, and with one final kick, he sent the ball flying. The boy watched from the corner of his eye as the soccer ball was flung towards the net, Matthew leaping to try and block it, but failed.

Alfred threw his hands up and jumped into the air," And the crowd goes wild! The Awesome Alfred has set an all time record! Ohhhh!" he ran through the yard before tackling Matthew, setting the two into a fit of giggles as they cheered for Alfred's win.

"Alright you two, lunch time." their father called from the porch.

They both got up and made their way back to the house. Alfred spun on his heels,"Oh! I forgot to get the ball! Hold on Dad!" that was important after all.

"Alfred, you can get it later."

"Nooo!" he whined," I have to get it now or STUPID BRAGINSKI will steal it like he did my baseball!"

The Brit groaned as he rubbed his temples. He knew Ivan hadn't stolen Alfred's baseball, the child had misplaced it in the oven somehow. Yet, the boy still blamed it on Ivan Braginski, his so claimed 'evil nemesis', on everything that went missing in the house. If the tv remote was missing, you can bet Alfred was the one to go marching up to the Braginski household and demand that the family give it back. To be honest, Arthur couldn't wait until Alfred grew out of this phase.

"Fine, but don't take too lo-ALFRED!" Arthur screamed.

The sound of of someone slamming on their brakes echoed through the air.

No, it couldn't be.

Not his baby boy.

Not again.

Ahahaha, so this totally isn't late. Sorry about that. I've been busy with homework and completely forgot about my bby fic. I'm not giving up on it though, this is my first fic and darn right, I WILL FINISH IT! I WILL PREVAIL TO THE END! Thank you all for waiting! Well anyway, I hope you liked this chapter~ Until then~ :D