Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!

Chapter Ten- This is Halloween

One of Alfred's favourite songs was 'One Week' by the Barenaked Ladies. It reminded him of his and Arthur's relationship. He used that song as a guideline to follow when they fought. However, he was not sure if things would follow the same pattern this time. He had barely looked at Arthur since that rather awkward Italian lesson. The attempt at polite conversation had done nothing but alienate the two further. There were no hurled insults. There were no violent assaults. There was nothing.

Going by the song, it would be another two days before they made up. Tuesday. The Scare Fest was on the Thursday. If they could apologise by Tuesday, things would be back to normal by the time the Scare Fest arrived. They could forget the whole business ever happened and move on with their lives.

They couldn't, not really. Not as they did before. Alfred couldn't quite place his finger on it, but something had definitely changed. He felt as though it had happened long ago and he was only noticing now. It was driving him up the wall trying to work out what it was, but for the life of him, he just couldn't do it.

Was it him? Sure, he had got his hair trimmed the other week. But that wouldn't affect his and Arthur's friendship, not something stupid like that. He had been a douche to Arthur, true, yet that wasn't a strange occurrence either. All was normal on his side.

Which left Arthur. He had noticed the way Arthur would look at him sometimes in a sideways squinty way, but he thought Arthur just had a speck of dust in his eye or something. Arthur's face was very quick to explode with all kinds of reds these days, which Alfred found hilarious. Maybe Arthur just had hay fever.

Hay fever, that was it. Alfred made a mental note to buy hay fever medication next time he was near the pharmacy. Arthur would appreciate the gesture. It might even help them patch things up! He really was sorry about the fight, although he had remained utterly pissed off for the first few days, and he had behaved very childishly towards Arthur. But he was sorry now. And for the first time, he couldn't tell how the Briton felt about it.

It set him on edge. All weekend, he hadn't been able to think of anything else. Because of the distraction, he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything. He had abandoned his English homework, not giving a stuff about another detention, in favour of planning an outfit for Thursday. Even though it was more exciting than writing an essay comparing Juliet to Elizabeth Bennet, he had still found himself unable to focus properly. He had given up, deciding to just wear the Captain America costume he had worn a couple of years ago.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed from where it sat on his desk. The wooden surface amplified the sound. It was Arthur's ringtone. Arthur had sent him a text. He hardly dared to hope as he opened it.

'From: Artie :D

I forgive you. Do you forgive me?

27/10/2012 17.43 PM'

It wasn't an apology. Arthur blamed him. He didn't care. He just wanted to speak to him again. He typed his reply so fast that, in the end, it was just counterproductive. He kept hitting the wrong letters, much to his annoyance.

'To: Artie :D

Mayb if u come ovr nd help me with my hwk. I promis 2 concntrate this time :)

27/10/2012 17.46 PM'

Okay, so perhaps he wasn't so ready to forgive him without a catch. Arthur hadn't even acknowledged that half the blame was on his shoulders! It was within his full right to ask for that if he was going to accept it was all his fault. So he tried to tell himself, but he knew he would forgive Arthur regardless. He just couldn't stand the thought of his best friend being mad at him forever.

The clock struck half six. There had been no reply. Arthur had apparently withdrawn his forgiveness. Alfred returned to his desk and finished writing the essay. On Monday, it had not even taken the old bitch the full lesson to mark it. It was handed back to him with a blaringly bright 'F' scribbled at the top and the detention he knew was coming. Alfred couldn't bring himself to care.

On the way home after his detention, he switched his phone off to avoid his mother's angry inquiries. He stopped off in the pharmacy and bought a packet of hay fever tablets. When he walked past the river, he threw the packet in the water and felt strangely sad as he watched it float away until it was lost to the horizon. He would never see it again.

Feliciano wanted to cry tears of joy as he looked upon his beautiful creation. It had taken three days, which he supposed wasn't really that long compared to the time that professional dressmakers would spend on their work. This wasn't a dress though. It was Lovino's turtle costume.

He had worked his butt off and it had been worth every drop of sweat. The way Lovino had snapped at him when he took his measurements was forgotten. He no longer believed that his clothes-making skills were mediocre at best. In fact, he was seriously considering a career in it. This was a thing of beauty, a work of art.

On Saturday, he had swept through all the shops in town like a small hurricane until he finally found a pair of footie pyjamas to form the base of the costume, which were a lovely shade of forest green and went nicely with Lovi's hazel eyes. Chicken wire which he had received from his grandfather had been meticulously bent into the shape of a shell, covered in papier-mâché (Lovi had looked terrified when he asked him to do it, though he didn't know why) and after a day's drying, he had painted it brown and added gloss to give it that eye-catching shine. The hexagonal pattern of the wire had a nice impression, much to his delight.

After adjusting the sleeves to make them look more like flippers, he had sewn a piece of fabric onto the front of the pyjama's to make it look like Lovi had a scaly stomach. The finishing touch had been attaching the shell (which was very lightweight) to the onsie, and finally, he had his perfect costume. The journey had been long and painstaking, but he regretted nothing. He had known it was a genius idea. It had just taken his brother a little while to realise how right he was.

"Lovi~!" he cried excitedly. "It's finished!"

Lovino couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the mannequin (another of Roma's strange possessions that he didn't want to question) standing in Feliciano's room. Or more accurately, he couldn't believe what the mannequin was wearing. He had to give his younger brother credit; it looked far better than how he had pictured it. The agonising amount of detail Feli had included was shocking. "You made this?" he gasped.

"Ve~" The exhausted Feli nodded at an insane speed. He was going to give himself a serious injury if he kept it up.

"It's amazing," he admitted. As much as he was impressed by Feli's hard work (and he was) and as much as the effort put in touched him (and it did) he felt a slight resentment towards the outfit. There was no way he could ever refuse to wear it now.

Upon hearing his brother's final judgement, Feliciano collapsed on the bed and fell asleep almost right after his head hit the pillow. Lovino smiled at the contented snores that wafted from the bed and pulled the duvet over Feli's sleeping form, like his mother would do for them when they were younger.

He crept out of the room and made his way to the kitchen, where he rustled up a mug of hot chocolate for himself, complete with mini marshmallows and squirty cream on top. He settled down on the sofa in the living room and switched on the TV. Not caring that he probably had a cream moustache, he drank the delicious beverage in peace as he watched Don't Tell the Bride. Everyone likes a bit of trash TV from time to time.

His grandfather wandered in halfway through the groom's meltdown over what dress to pick and joined Lovino on the cosy sofa. He didn't speak, and sat as far away from him as possible. Lovino was about to make a snarky remark, but realised sadly that it was his own fault that the distance between them had become so vast. He should be the one to bridge the gap.

"How has work been?" he asked when the silence was starting to stifle him.

Roma looked at Lovino in shock. He hadn't tried to speak to him in so long; he couldn't even remember when it had been. And it was not his age starting to catch up with him. "We had a slight problem with the fir sapling shipment last week, but no other hiccups have come up. The Christmas tree will be a little smaller than usual this year."

"So the harvest went well?"

"One of the best years we've ever had," Roma grinned. "That's why your cooking has been so delizioso recently; i miei pomodori speciali! You'll make a fantastic chef one day."

"Grazie," Lovino replied, meaning it.

Absolutely thrilled that they had not started to fight yet, Roma chanced his arm and decided to ask Lovino about himself. "How have you been? Are things going well with your new counsellor?"

"He's not really new anymore," Lovino chuckled softly. "But… He's been great. I-I mean, he's much better than all the others. It's not that I like him! Or hate him! He's just… He's just…"

"He's just different?" Roma suggested. He resisted the urge to laugh and ruffle his grandson's hair. The uncharacteristic stutter and vibrant blush that painted his cheeks was very endearing indeed; he had never seen it before. Who was this man that reduced the ever-stony Lovino to a fumbling mess? It wasn't hard to work out why he had that effect. Lovino may as well have had a neon sign floating above his head, shouting it out for the whole world to see. He just wanted to know who he was.

Lovino nodded in the same way as Feliciano had earlier until his neck started to hurt. His strange behaviour was embarrassing him, but he couldn't help it. He was grateful to his grandfather for not questioning him about it. "I should go to bed," he blurted out. It was only half nine, but Roma had more tact than to mention that.

Somehow managing not to trip on his way out, he crawled into bed and snuggled into the fur of his faithful old bear, Boris. It was one of the very few things he had to remember his father by. As far as he was concerned, you were never too old for a teddy bear. He would never consider getting rid of Boris.

"My head feels so screwed up," he grumbled into the bear's tattered ear. "Why does he do this to me? I can't think properly when I'm around him, and I always feel so nervous. And then he smiles and it all goes away. God, I'm so fucking confused."

Great. He may as well castrate himself, grow a pair of boobs and start reading the gossip columns of those stupid teen magazines. Maybe he could write in a letter detailing his oh-so-awful problem. Or he could grab a bucket of ice-cream and cry all about it whilst watching Finding Nemo.

Boris' one eye was bulging horrifically and Lovino realised he had been one the receiving end of a bone crushing hug that may well have exceeded Feli standards. He apologised profusely to the bear – a perfectly natural reaction – and changed into his pyjamas, which consisted of an old t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. Last week, because of the warm weather, he had slept in his underwear. He was glad the temperature had started to drop again. Sleeping in his underwear was too exposing. Slowly but surely, his brain stopped thinking coherently and he drifted off to sleep.

He didn't want to leave Italy. He liked it here. His friends were here. He was happy here. Papà had gone somewhere. They couldn't leave. What if he came back and couldn't find them? Lovino might never see him again, and he didn't want that. Mamma wept when he screamed in protest. His baby brother was frightened by the loud sounds and bawled his eyes out, squeezing every last drop of air from his lungs.

His mamma was on the phone again to the grandfather he had never met and did not want to meet if it meant leaving Italy. He caught only snippets of the conversation. Something about a debt. Dangerous men. Leaving before it was too late and they came for them, whoever they were. It made no sense.

Lovino wailed distraughtly, "But papà will miss us. We can't leave papà behind!" He clenched his small fists and beat them off the wall. Camilla rocked the sobbing Feliciano and tried to hold in her own tears.

"We must go," was all she would say. It was all she said as she packed their lives into a small suitcase. It was all she said as she locked up their so familiar apartment for the final time. It was all she would say as she bundled the three of them into the back of a cramped cab.

Lovino didn't understand any of it. He watched the home he so loved disappear as they turned the corner. He cried for the loss of his friends, his home, his world. Most of all he cried for his papà, whom he feared he would never see again. He was only three. Yet he still felt the crushing pain when reality sunk in, mere minutes later.

It was all gone.

"Lovino-san." Lovino turned when he felt his sleeve being tugged at and choked on a rising scream when he saw the horrific creature he was met with. The eyes were bloodshot and sunken back into their sockets. The yellow, jaundiced skin was practically melting off the skull and a slimy black tongue poked out from the haphazard mouth with blocky teeth and papery lips.

He leapt back and grabbed onto the nearest weapon, which was, unfortunately, a pen. "What the fuck do you want?" he snarled. He knew it wasn't real. He was boiling over in anger at the fact that someone had the gall to try and scare him. He raised the pen in a threatening manner.

The creature was moved over to the side and Kiku emerged from behind it. He apologised in rapid fire Japanese and bowed like he was greeting royalty. "I did not mean to frighten you. I was just wondering where I should leave this."

"Mio Dio, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Lovino breathed. "You can ask Feliks over there. He's the one co-ordinating everything."

"Arigatou." Kiku rushed over to the flamboyant blonde (now that he thought about it, he reminded Lovino of Francis in that way) who was complaining very loudly about being responsible for the haunted tour to his Lithuanian boyfriend. Apparently, because of the job, he had very little time to plan his outfit.

"It's so, like, dumb. Seriously Liet, I was gonna look totally amazing. God, I'm so pissed!" Toris nodded dutifully as Feliks took the creature from Kiku and walked out of the room. His complaints could still be heard when he was halfway down the hallway.

Lovino went back to stacking boxes, refusing to check what was in them. He was unable to face the terrors. "I do not think our plan to help Alfred-san and Arthur-san make up worked very well," Kiku mumbled as he joined Lovino in his task.

Lovino looked to the door at the other end of the room. Alfred and Arthur were in charge of ticking things off a checklist before they left the room. They were supposed to be working together, but they weren't communicating at all, not even with the stony glares they were so fond of the week before. "No, it didn't," he frowned.

"I knew we were out of place. All we have done is make matters worse," Kiku fretted.

"We were just trying to be good friends." Yes, Lovino tried to be a good friend. Alfred may have got on his nerves a lot, but it was no more than Feli. And he hated arguing with his brother, so he had some idea of what Arthur must feel like, since the Briton and the American were just as close as him and Feli. "It's not our fault that they can't grow up and get over it." Okay, so he was still working on the whole 'being a good friend' angle. "You know they'll sort it out soon. They always do."

"I hope you are right." Looking at Arthur and Alfred as they were now, you could almost see the wall between them if you squinted hard enough.

If they can get past their difficulties, anyone can, Lovino thought to himself.

It was Thursday night, it was nearly nine o'clock and it was cold. In more ways than one. Out of all their friends, Alfred and Arthur had the misfortune to arrive at the same time, before everyone else. They stood at the school gates, coughing awkwardly every now and then. They pretended to be interested in everyone else's Halloween outfits as they ambled past, but they weren't really.

Arthur could feel Alfred staring at him. It made him shiver. He didn't want to look, because he knew what he'd see. He'd see that Alfred's costume was a little too tight on him. He'd see the well-defined chest that would feel so amazing to snuggle into. He'd see the arms that had just the right amount of muscle, and then his mind would wander and think about how amazing it would feel to have those arms embracing him.

Ah shit, his mind had already gone walkabout. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. There was no point in lying to himself, even though it could have made things easier. What did it matter if Alfred would have done well investing in a bigger costume? Hell, he would take full advantage of the view when he knew Alfred wasn't looking. Arthur loved how Alfred was nearly an adult, yet he still dressed up as a superhero and walked around with his head held high.

Except his head was bowed down. And he knew he was the one responsible. Why couldn't he have answered that stupid text? Why couldn't he face Alfred? Why couldn't he just do the right thing? Why couldn't he just…

"I'm sorry."

"Pardon?"

"I'm sorry." Alfred chewed his lip childishly. It was adorable, as was the blush that was creeping across his face. Arthur was lost for words. It was always him that apologised first, not Alfred. Maybe that would have been how he wanted it before this fight, but now that it was happening, all he was able to think about was how he had started it and their roles should be reversed right now, because this was wrong.

"You were right. I called you that day 'cause I wanted your answers, not your company. And you were nice enough to help me, even though you probably knew it. Then I threw it in your face, and it wasn't the first time I've ever done it either. So I'm sorry."

"No, not at all," Arthur finally managed to say. "The whole ordeal started because of me. I'm just as much to blame as you are. Probably more. I acted like a brat. I'm very sorry. I've been sorry ever since I walked out of that room; I just wasn't brave enough to say it."

Oh, the grin. Alfred had such perfect teeth. "That's why I'm the hero, and you're the… Uh… What are you?"

Arthur suddenly felt very self-conscious. He had thought it was obvious. Even his mother had agreed with him! Maybe it was a Kirkland family thing. He was dressed like the perfect Victorian gent: the lapels of his dinner jacket had been ironed for ten minutes by his mother, just to make sure (whatever that meant), he had tied his bow tie with expert skill, and he had a smart top hat perched proudly atop his head. He had gone so far as to remove all his piercings and dye his hair back to its natural honey blonde.

The whole ensemble had been found in a dusty corner of his grandfather's very cluttered attic. It had belonged to the man before that. It was a wonder that it had escaped the moths, the mould, and his grandmother's overwhelming need to rid the house of everything that wasn't be used.

It was as if Arthur had walked straight out of a Charles Dickens or Jane Austen novel. Even the bag in his hand belonged back in the nineteenth century.

The only problems were the knife in his hand that was dripping with an ominous red liquid, the same red liquid that was splattered all over his otherwise impeccable waistcoat and shirt, the few odd specks spattered on his face, and the gloves that were stained with it. It was a plastic knife, and the blood was fake, but he had thought it was clear.

"I'm Jack the Ripper," he said disdainfully. "Oh God, now I just look like a blood-stained, old-fashioned mad man!"

"But I thought Jack the Ripper was all that," Alfred tried to ease his friend's worries. "It's a good costume Artie, it is! I can tell you worked very hard on it. And look at your hair!" He took the liberty of running his hands through the choppy mop. Arthur thought he would spontaneously combust and burn until not even ashes remained.

"I-I dyed it back," he mumbled, unable to look away from Alfred's bright eyes that made him look like he had stolen a piece of the sky.

"I prefer it like this," Alfred nodded, not sensing Arthur's failing heart at all. "I mean, green is nice and all, but it's nothin' like this. I know that people looked at you more with it, but you don't need them. I was already lookin' at you."

Alfred finally realised what his words were implying. He let go of Arthur as though he had been clutching a bomb. "I mean, you should keep it. It's nice. You'll get all the ladies like that. Or you could keep it green, if you like green. Green's a great colour. All fresh and stuff. Just like grass! Or… Uh… I'll just shut up now."

The incessant rambling was a nervous habit of Alfred's that didn't really show itself very often, since Alfred's ego was so massive that it left very little room for self-doubt. Arthur loved the idea that he was the one that made him feel that way. Moments like this made it feel like his love maybe not be as unrequited as he believed.

But it was. Alfred struggled to sense his own feelings, never mind the feelings of another person.

"It's quite a hassle to re-dye it every two months. I have to pay for it out of my own pocket, and I've woke up a few times to see my mother leaning over me with a pair of scissors in hand." He shuddered. The first time it had happened, he had let out a very unmanly scream and shoved his pillow in her face, which had not gone down well. Considering she was the one planning to bald him in his sleep, he thought it was well within his rights to give her a face full of pillow. "I think you may be right."

"The hero is always right!" Arthur was glad to hear Alfred's annoying nasally laugh. For all the hero rubbish he put out, his laugh was more alike to that of a super villain's. But he would never burst the egotistical American's bubble like that; he was just too nice.

"It looks like you two are friends again." It was one of those rare occasions where Kiku let his emotions show on his face. You could practically see the relief sparkling around him as he walked calmly up to the two dressed as Link from the Legend of Zelda. "I am very glad to see it."

Arthur had no idea who Kiku was supposed to be, but Alfred clearly did, if the way he was admiring over it was any indication. Honestly, it was like watching two girls gushing about the latest fashion. It made him feel a little jealous.

Meanwhile, a car pulled up outside the gates. Arthur could hear two very loud voices coming from inside it. There was no questioning who those voices belonged to.

"I'm not going!"

"Fratello, you promised!"

"I did not! I said I would think about it, and now that I've thought about it, I've decided no. I'll just go home and stay there."

"Lovino…" Feliciano's voice trailed off and Arthur couldn't hear the rest of the argument. Minutes later, Feliciano emerged, all sunshine and rainbows in his 'My Little Pony' costume. It didn't really surprise Arthur to know that Feli was a brony. He pulled off the Pinky Pie look wonderfully with his childish carefree air.

Ludwig followed him as a very convincing Frankenstein. With a stoic face like that, his height that meant he towered over most and the intimidating muscles, the German didn't have to try very hard to look the part. His face was even paler than usual, which made the ragged red fake scars stand out and for the first time ever, he had allowed his hair to fall over his face instead of slicking it back. Feliciano whispered in his ear that he looked very handsome and he spluttered some rushed German phrases in return. Arthur suddenly got the impression that Feliciano would fall into the sexual predator category of drunks.

Lovino looked strangely haunted as he finally climbed out of the car. Arthur covered his mouth in an attempt to disguise the giggles that were threatening to overcome him as a coughing fit. He was a turtle. Lovino Vargas, who had never worn more than an eye patch to the Scare Fest, was a turtle. A turtle.

"I want to go home," he grumbled. However, it was too late. The car had shot off at criminal speed. It must have been Lovino's grandfather driving. He was stuck here for the night, whether he liked it or not. And he was making it very clear that he didn't like it in the slightest. Arthur could hear his grinding teeth and feel the emanating rage from where he stood. He made a mental note not to make fun of the Italian's appearance. He wanted to keep his head.

So here they were. A serial killer, a hero, a monster, a brony, a boy in a pointy green cap and a turtle. Now, didn't that just sound like the beginning of a terrible joke? "Dudes!" Alfred announced loudly. "Let the Halloween fun begin!"

Gah, this didn't really turn out how I imagined it. I ended up writing too much USUK again! Let me just stress that it is relevant to later on. I promise you! Also, I've just finished writing the next chapter. Don't get your hopes up for the horror aspect of it; I now know that writing scary shit is something I should stay away from. But I'll have that up ASAP!

Thanks again for all your costume suggestions. Arthur's costume idea came from Rose Thourn, Lillipnillilip suggested Frankenstein for Ludwig, Dancing Shadows Alchemist suggested some form of cosplay for Kiku and a couple of you suggested Alfred should be a superhero of some sort. So thank you very much! I've never watched My Little Pony, even though I intended to do it over summer, but I do know what Pinky Pie is like. That's why I chose that outfit for Feli! Have you guys ever noticed how My Little Pony sometimes turns up in the suggestions alongside Hetalia videos? I have!

It's Sunday, which means tomorrow is Monday, which means I am back to school. Guess what? Life actually exists. I totally forgot. I'm heading into fifth year, which is set to be a pretty hectic year. I have my GCSEs in June. If you've ever read Harry Potter, GCSEs are like OWLs. If you still don't know what I mean, they're very important exams and I'll be busy with studying and stuff. Unfortunately, that means I have no idea what my writing schedule is going to work out like. I'd like to promise weekly updates, but I can't say for sure. I apologise in advance for slow activity! Hopefully it won't take me too long to settle into a routine, but don't hold your breath.

Man, this ended up being a really long A/N XD Thanks for reviewing (69 reviews WUT I love you guys :'D) and adding this to your alerts/favourites. I'm off to dye my hair and sort my uniform, so I'll see you when I see you!