WOW! I can't believe it's aleady the 10th chapter! And the plot is barely going! Wow, this is gonna be a long story. I got six reviews for last chapter. SIX! Thank you guys so much! I especially want to thank Phantom Ice for the lovely and long reviews! They really inspire me! This reviewer has also inspired me to write more than I had planned for Ivan and Alfred's mini cold war, so thank her if you like that.

This chapter is longer than usual. Don't ask why. Just enjoy.

Probably no-one can relate, but today I got an update on the manga Kuroko no Basuke, which I adore. And in this chapter, there was a popularity poll. And my beloved Kuroko got SECOND! THE MAIN CHARACTER GOT SECOND! AND TO AKASHI, THE EVIL JERK-FACE! I am not pleased.

Anyway, I don't own Hetalia. I kinda own Carlos, but not really. He's Cuba.

When Alfred arrived at the Kirkland manor after school on Friday, he found it in a flurry of activity, with maids and cleaning ladies running hither and thither, dusting, mopping, washing windows and arranging flowers. In the center of it all, Charles Kirkland was discussing plans and details with the head butler. He noticed Alfred standing in the entrance way and beckoned him over.

"What's going on, Uncle Charlie?" The boy asked.

"Your Aunt Margaret is returning sooner than expected, so we're in a bit of a rush to have all preparations completed. She should be here tonight at 9:00, so as you can see, we have much to do." His uncle replied. The man looked rather frazzled." I have already sent the boys to their rooms, so they would stay out of the way until preparations are complete and so that they could prepare and get dressed. You may want to do the same. This is the first time my wife will be meeting you, after all."

Alfred agreed that this was probably a good idea, and retired to his room to shower and get some homework done. Since this was the first week back, there really wasn't that much, but it would be something to keep him busy. When that had all been completed, he pulled out his guitar and began strumming to stimulate his thoughts. He had a lot to think about.

The first week of Circle academy had been a little rough, that's for sure, but he had made some friends: Lovino, Kiku, Feliks and the others seemed really nice, and he was sure they could get along, but Lovino's warning of the Bad Touch Trio rang in his head, and he wondered how much he should heed his warning. He didn't like to judge people before getting to know them first, even if he received a strong opinion from someone he trusted. However, there was something about them that just made him nervous. And now there was Ivan to worry about. He had promised Feliks, Toris, Raivis and Eduard that he would help them, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't even a little nervous. Toris had pulled him aside and explained Ivan to him in full detail.

Toris had informed him that Ivan was extremely possessive of anyone he decided was his friend. He had gone so far as to break bones of those who tried to separate the Russian from his 'little friends', and he was practically in control of the whole school. Everyone feared him, except for the Bad Touch Trio, who were on an equal level with him, where control over the student body was concerned. Though, of course, they didn't stoop to beating up the students. They had much more devious ways of showing their power.

Toris seemed to be the only thing Ivan had that was close to an actual friend. Ivan treated him better than the others, and even listened to what he had to say sometimes. When Alfred asked why, Toris had looked at him with a sad smile.

"I pity him." He'd said. "Ivan is like a child trapped in a young man's body. He has never truly had a friend, and he grew so lonely that he decided to force others to be his friends. He is so sad and lost. I can not leave him." Alfred had just stared at him, not really comprehending what Toris was trying to say.

"Alfred. Sometimes bullies bully others because they are trying to fill in a hole in their hearts. You say that you will be the hero, but a hero must be unbiased. You have offered to save us from Ivan, but will you save Ivan from himself?"

"Mattie," Alfred growled in a low voice, "tell me who did this to you."

Matthew flinched at his brother's dangerous tone. It was hard to get his brother angry, but Alfred was extremely protective of his family. Seeing his brother in such pain with a black eye, bruised jaw and cracked ribs among other minor injuries set Alfred's blood boiling, and Matthew pitied the person on whom his wrath would fall. And no way was he going to tell his older twin that the reason Carlos beat him up was because of his grudge against Alfred! Alfred would flip his lid.

"Please, Al, don't freak out! You do crazy stuff when you're angry! He didn't mean it. It was just a misunderstanding!" Matthew pleaded in vain against his brother. Alfred was out for blood and he would get it, one way or another.

Carlos Muchado was one of the biggest and strongest kids in the seventh grade. He picked on the younger kids and older kids alike, and rarely had any opposition. Alfred, however, with his stupid, meddling hero complex, made it his personal mission to stop the large Cuban's villainous actions. Alfred was strong and determined and had a multitude of supporters, so Carlos hated him. But what could he do? He would probably be beaten by Alfred, and he didn't like that idea. So he struck upon inspiration. To get back at Alfred, all he had to do was hurt his brother.

Carlos had been friends with Matthew a while ago, but when Matthew had sided with Alfred and shyly warned him that bullying was wrong, Carlos felt betrayed. He was another one of them. Those jerks who pretended to be his friends, but always left him in the end. He was cut of the same cloth as Carlos' own father, who had abandoned his wife and five children in Cuba and ran off with another woman. Nobody ever stayed, and now Carlos was the man of the family, without any example of what a man should be. All he could feel was rage and betrayal at Matthew's words.

Carlos began to attack Matthew at random, never leaving more that a bruise or two in inconspicuous places. Alfred never caught on, and Matthew didn't want his brother to fight for him. He could deal with this by himself. It was only after a rough night of holding his weeping mother in his arms that Carlos snapped. Matthew, noticing his once-friend was in a bad mood, invited him to join his family for dinner. Carlos could only see red as he was reminded of the family he could have had but which had abandoned him. He fell upon Matthew, beating him and screaming until his throat was raw, pouring all his hatred of his father into his fists as Matthew tried desperately to dodge. When he was finished, Carlos ran away, leaving a bloodied and unconscious Matthew lying behind the school.

When Alfred saw that his brother had not shown up for class, he began to look for him, and panicked when he saw his twin lying in such a state behind the school. He immediately took him home, and after patching him up, interrogated him on who did such a thing. Alfred was livid and though he knew Matthew wouldn't tell him who had hurt him, he could guess.

"It was Carlos, wasn't it? Wasn't it?" He demanded when Matthew looked up with startled, pleading eyes. "I'm gonna kill him."

Matthew grabbed his arm. "Please, Al. Calm down! Carlos has been through a lot. We can help him!"

"And where did trying to help him get you? Huh?" Alfred growled. "I will never put up with someone hurting my brother. You stay here, Mattie. I'll deal with this."

Matthew's protests were cut off by the slam of a door.

Alfred was broken from his musings when he heard a knock on his door. Putting aside his guitar, he walked across his plush carpet and answered his door. It was Owain.

"Hello, Alfred. May I come in?" the older boy asked his cousin. "I heard you playing guitar and I wondered if there was something on your mind." He laughed when Alfred gave him a surprised look. "I do the same thing when I think, except with my harp."

Alfred welcomed his cousin into his room, and gestured to his bed, where he and Owain settled themselves. There was a moment of silence while Alfred tried to put his feelings into words and Owain waited patiently.

"Have you ever done something that you regret, but you're not sure if you should?" Alfred began at last. Owain paused for a moment and then nodded, his eyes slightly guilty. "Well, back at my home, there was a kid named Carlos who bullied everyone. One day, he hurt someone important to me really badly, and I guess I just snapped. I beat him up and I kept screaming really nasty things to him. I always felt a little guilty for how I treated him, but I was defending his victims, so it was the right thing to do, right?"

Alfred stormed back into the school, fury evident on his face. The sea of students parted at the sight of the friendly and always enthusiastic blonde so livid. He marched straight to Carlos, who was fiddling with his locker and without any preamble, slammed a fist in his face.

Carlos bit back curses as he tried to stem the blood flowing from his nose. He didn't have any time to retaliate before Alfred lifted him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against his locker with all his force. "Jones! What do you think you're doing?" He demanded, angry eyes clouded with pain. This kid was strong!

"No, Carlos, the question is what do you think you're doing? You dare attack my brother and think you'll get away with it? Not on my watch!" He slammed his fist in the larger boy's gut, fully aware of the gaping students. Alfred had snapped. "He wanted to help you, and this is how you repay him? He's possibly the only person in the world who doesn't hate you and this is how you treat him?" Alfred seethed.

"Heh. That's where you're wrong," Carlos sneered. "I have followers of my own. Don't think you're the only popular one."

"And where are they now, huh, Carlos? Do you see anyone stepping up to help you?" Carlos scanned the crowd for any of the boys who followed him around. He almost flinched when he saw heads turn away from his gaze.

"Well look at that." Alfred drawled. "Even your lackeys won't help you. You wanna know why? It's because they hate you. They just stick with you so you won't beat them like you did my brother." Alfred released Carlos after slamming him against his locker once more. "Everyone will leave you, Carlos. Nobody cares if you live or die." And as Carlos watched the American turn and leave and the students move on with their lives, muttering about what they had just seen and sending fearful glances at the retreating back and the heavily breathing boy. He wondered if that last sentence had really been uttered by Alfred F. Jones or if it was his own mind supplying him with the answer he'd been looking for all along.

Owain glanced at his cousin who gazed at him with confusion marring his face. If only Arthur would turn to him for advice like Alfred found it so easy to do. Not that he'd ever done anything to deserve it.

"I suppose," He began, "that you actually know the answer to that question yourself. It seems to me that you did your best to protect the ones you love, but at the expense of another's happiness. Is this a 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few' situation? Who knows. I've heard that you want to be the hero, and a hero would never hurt another like that." He saw Alfred's face fall, and felt a stab of guilt. "But don't worry. Perhaps what you said to him was necessary, and he was able to change because of it. Just be more careful in the future and learn from this."

Alfred sighed. "That's the second part of my problem. I have another bully on my hands now, and I don't want to do the same to him. I now know how much words can really hurt. I don't want to fail to save anyone anymore. Maybe Ivan is lost, and I could help him, but I'm scared that I'll mess up like I did with Carlos!"

"Ivan? As in Ivan Braginsky?" Owain glanced at him with worry. Ivan even had a reputation that made its way to the university sector of the school. He was dangerous. "I hope you can figure out what to do, Alfred, because he'd a dangerous one. Just remember this: You never know what's going on inside someone. Even the cruelest person has something precious to him, and bullies always bully for a reason."

Alfred nodded thoughtfully, then beamed at his older cousin. "Thanks a ton, Owain. You're the best!" Owain smiled and ruffled the hair of the younger boy, who he'd come to think of as a brother.

"Any time, Alfred. And maybe I can play music with you some time."

"Sure!" Alfred cheered. "That'd be fun!"

Outside the door, standing in the shadow and gazing with longing at the picture of fraternal love, Arthur let two tears run down his cheeks as he turned away.

Dang. Artie's so angsty.

M'kay. So, true story about being so protective you'd beat someone up. When I was probably 7 years old, I was at a party, and my older brother (whom I worshipped) got into a fight with another kid. The kid hit him in the face really badly and he started gushing blood from his nose an mouth. He ran in to get cleaned up and I watched as he spat blood into the bathroom sink. I went back out and saw the boy gloating over his victory, and without preamble, I picked up a massive hockey stick and flattened him. I, an undersized seven year old, was powered by the rage of protectiveness and decked an older boy. Suffice to say, he went home and was never heard from again.

Ad then there was the time when I was 5, and my best friend, who was also my neighbor, called my brother a b*tch. I refused to even look at her for five days, until she finally gave in and apologized. In fact the only grudge I can hold for more than 30 seconds is someone else's grudge.

And...Now I scared everyone off. Sorry. Just leave my family alone, and you'll be fine!

Now I must hibernate. It's gonna snow. Again. What a surprise.

Please leave a review!

8i8

~sparklybutterfly42