Author's Note:

Hiya, this is it but I decided to expand it a little bit more. One of the reasons I wrote this was because sometimes...we have to know the balance between family and friends and your significant other.

Anyway, I've heavily hinted that the Nordics lost their glue, Denmark, for some time Read '1801'. Of course, Their all happy and stuff. Denmark has like one-third of his problems solved but...it's just very complicated if he lost the person who kept him company all through out the others absence since his return to sanity.

Friends are just as family as family...People say that family's a stronger bond. So why are there cases when a family member kills another. Oh yeah and friends too?

Okay, I am getting WAAAAaaAaaaAAAaAaY out of topic.

Okay, Just wait for the last one.

GCJakey's notes:

I am tired with everything XD. I do feel a bit sad, the last two of my works didn't even get one hit. I mean the first one was favorited and unfavorited in less than five minutes...

I feel so shitty. But still happy...there is something wrong with me.

Warnings: Very Clingy! Nordics, Sad! Denmark, Angry! America

HETALIA IS NOT OURS

Comment. Suggest. Fave. Follow.

"Hey, brother, what do these say?" Finland wore a simple breezy shirt over a very very thick peach cardigan with skinny denim and woolen boots as he showed Denmark two boxes of milk written in Dutch.

The Dane fixed his glasses along with his form-hugging deep blue sweater as he took a brief glance at the most obvious labels.

"The one at yer left's fat-free and the one on yer right's whole milk." He smiled, ruffling the shorter man's hair. He rolled his cart, wanting to inspect his other brothers who were busy buying stuff, while the Finnish man thought.

The meeting's in Holland this month and another EU meeting and after his meltdown two weeks ago, he had a lot to apologize for. It would be two week tops. It was by luck that the next meeting was somewhere he had an apartment in. The other four agreed to stay at his big apartment in the span of the fourteen-day stay.

It became tradition for Matthias to stock up the fridge of his apartments during meetings. It made it easier to have breakfast and dinner in the safety of your home and he was a rather inactive since the end of WWII.

He didn't want the four to restrict themselves of what they could buy, they just had to stick with the budget he set. Of course, it was split five ways...he was their big brother, not their mother or their human piggy bank. He didn't have to baby them that much anymore.

Their last night would be a big blow-out with whatever they had left over, so there will probably foodstuff bought for just that.

'America's usually the one I spend my last nights with...usually sleeps over too...for the whole week.' Denmark thought sadly, seeing that Alfred has yet to return any of his calls. He has texted back however but without his usual 'HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAH!' Or emoticons or mind-bending auto-corrected abbreviations and never in caps-locks anymore.

'What did I do?' He wondered, stopping at the frozen meat section where an angry Swede had a whole huge turkey while a furious Norwegian had a huge rack of ribs.

Matthias continued to skate, deep in his thoughts and completely oblivious to the curious looks of Emil who had five boxes of frozen pizza.

The first meeting with the Nordic brothers fixed was rather different. No one could say if it was for better or worse at first.

The resident loud-mouth, America, was not in the mood to talk and was very grumpy towards most of the nations. So Denmark stepped in as the resident loud-mouth, continuously reminding his four little brothers to take down notes while he took his own, at least he walked the walk.

When it came to the four's reports, he was very thorough in correcting every small detail openly, humiliating the four though it seemed like the Dane wasn't noticing its effects on his siblings as he continued to deliberate and scrutinize their every move.

When Norway defended himself with saying that English wasn't his first language to begin with, Matthias made him report it in Norwegian and was still able to see something wrong. That was the first time they saw Lukas blush or show anything besides his stoic gaze and all the while, the Dane was calm and careful and mature with every word that slipped from his mouth.

He even started to criticize everybody, even Germany. He pointed out that the German forgot to carry two in some equation. He said that it was for making sure that he's brothers have nothing to worry about taking wrong notes.

America didn't want to do his report, but for that ten seconds when he was called the Dane finally fell silent before resuming back to his loud rants.

That's when the others realized how hard he was on them but at the same time how much of a mother-hen -wolf-bear he was. He always busied himself in knowing all of them were fine and even pecking their foreheads with his lips and giving them his coat and scarf and made personalized packed snacks with sandwiches and apples and pudding cups and a can of beer, light for Icy.

Each one groaned and tried everything to stop what their smothering brother did and prayed to God for him to stop babying them.

Then Denmark threw Prussia, bloodied and beaten, out of a window when he called Finland a 'prissy' and dragged Cuba's face on the floor when he said that Iceland was a 'snob'.

Matthias was venting out some of his residual crazy violent side that suddenly resurfaced. He had some quirks and spasms and strange emotional outbursts most nights when he was alone accompanied with strange compulsions to sit in a corner and pretend like his hands were tied and laugh and sway which seemed to had all cleared before his brothers' return to his life and after the American stopped noticing him. At least it wasn't his panic attacks again.

But ultimately with Al not noticing him, it felt right (in a deranged way) that he'd make a spectacle for hot BFF to save the day. Never happened.

Even though he was a bit extreme in both poles, that never came across to the others...all they felt was endearment.

By the end of the meeting, every one wanted to have a piece of Denmark which led to this.

*CRASH*

A chair that was bolted to the floor with grade-A, industrial-strength, supposedly country-proof bolts was thrown out the window.

The equally bolted long table was snapped in half and thrown out as well. The walls were punched open.

Prussia started waking up from getting thrown out of the building when a chair fell on his head, followed by the numerous chunks of wood and cinder-blocks that rendered him unconscious yet again.

"MI CORAZON!" Spain yelled on the top of his lungs, just noticing that his lover wasn't beside him (he was sleeping then), as he jumped off, falling flat on his face and also knocking him out. He lied beside his German lover though. Good enough right?

Back to the conference room, all thanked God for the whole ceiling not collapsing.

Cuba, face covered with ice and bandages, was the only one brave enough to safe the culprit. In fact, he was the only one stupid enough to approach him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, STUPID AMERICANO!?" He turned the taller nation around.

Alfred scoffed and pushed the broken hand away. He fixed his jacket and went on to exit the room. "Saw a fly."

"Saw a fly!? Are you thinking that I'm fucking stupid!?" The pudgy man continued, limping towards him.

America's eyes were intense and deadly, halting everybody from even breathing. His lips curled slightly, his white teeth gleamed.

"No, I think yer smart enough to know when to buzz off." He pushed on Cuba's chest hard, making him fall on his back before storming out.

All of the nation's stared and clamored for Canada's assistance only to find him absent for unexplained reasons, of all days.

The Nordics looked on, just as the others. But suddenly, the youngest Nordic heard a barely audible 'tsk'. He looked behind him to see his eldest brother moping around, his face buried in his arms.

His violet eyes went down in worry and confusion. What was going on anyway?

"Hey, Lu, when are you going to pick me up?"

"...Nat, I can't pick you up right now, I'm with my brothers and it's our last day here and bror's cookin' up a buffet." Norway rolled his eyes as he busied himself with peeling some potatoes.

"...oh, bros' night, huh?" Belarus said quietly, sounding exasperated and let down. "...are you coming to my room tonight?" Her voice sounded very hopeful though.

"I'm not sure, Wald wanted us to sleep over again..." The annoyance on his voice was starting to become more evident, feeling like he was being obligated to go to her. "Anything else?"

"Oh, nothing...just remember to drop me off the airport, okay?" The girl giggled.

Lukas smiled and gave off a soft chuckle. "Okay, baby...I promise and I'll be there next week..."

"Okay, love you..." The girl's voice was just above whispered and sounded half-hearted.

"Love you too..." The man smiled before the girl hung up. He then proceeded to shop some tomatoes with a smile.

*WHEREVER NAT IS*

Natalia was dressed in a black cocktail dress, her hair in a loose updo, and her neck with an oxhorn necklace with the most brilliant opals and black roses. She tossed her phone to the table with subtle contempt. She slouched her beautiful form, her head resting on her propped hand. In front of her was an empty table and two plates of filet mignon.

She was hoping that he'd remember...or at least see the note she taped on her hotel room's door with 'You forgot dinner, asshole. Meet me at the restaurant.' written on it.

"...so this is the feeling of getting stood up at your 3rd anniversary." She sighed, blowing off a lose strand of her hair away.

She should be furious right about now, but she already knew that he would forget. With the way he's been glued to his brother as her obvious hint of him ditching her. She didn't feel right making him choose between his brothers or her since he's been dreaming of this all his life...and she was afraid that he'd choose the four men over her.

Her deep dark blue eyes glanced at her ring finger, a platinum ring with a black diamond stud cut into a heart.

A promise ring. A gift from the one man that swept her off her feet. That damned Norwegian named Lukas Bondevik.

"Better make it up to me, Bondevik." She giggled as she played with the black diamond before blowing the candle out.

'Maybe giving him tuna'll help, he loves that...or mackerel.' Matthias shook his head, taking another chug of his beer while towel-drying the rest of his upper body then draping the fluffy towel over his head.

He readjusted the ties of his sweatpants before leaning his side on the frame of the huge window-door leading to the balcony, one hand deep in his pants pocket while staring at the beautiful scenic city-scape.

He sighed deeply, letting himself collapse with his ass stick out in the air and his cheek squished against the floor.

'ALFRED!' He sulked, feeling pathetic and small. It felt like puppy tears were coming...Thank God that the doors were locked, he would be humiliated if any of his brothers saw him like this.

*KNOCK*KNOCK*KNOCK*

"H-HVAD?" Denmark sat up and emptied his beer, so that a reddened nose and watery eyes looked normal.

"We wanted to know if you still want to eat or not before we wrap things up." Iceland kept his voice small, feeling that a locked room meant anything but 'please disturb my moment of solitude'.

The Dane let out the fizz and burn of the drink audibly, too audibly, before grinning and forcing a happy voice.

"Ja. I ate plenty already."

Emil found his answer too quick but kept it to himself nonetheless.

"...okay then, I think you should get some sleep." Matthias smiled. "A growin' boy shouldn't be up this late."

"It's barely nine, you should get some sleep too...the way you've been sulking must be tiring." The teen crossed his arms, sounding matter-of-factly.

The man scrambled to rub his eyes, thinking that it would decrease the puffiness as the younger Nordic walked back to the main area, leaving him to resume his pity party though this time on his bed.

'Maybe Danishes would work...or my body...FUCK...how stupid can ya be?' Denmark constricted his body-pillow with his strong limbs, beating himself up mentally.

"Please just talk to me." He lifted the pillow, staring at it as if it was America.

"Talk." He puffed his cheeks. "Please..." He squeezed his sides tighter. His eyes twitched and his neck spasmed.

"If ya can hear me...please come back, really need ya right about now." He rolled to his side, hugging his favorite pillow tightly. His mind drifted from America to Kid to America to Kid to America.

...they looked so similar...oh well.

Icy-blues shut softly. The prominent nose nuzzled on the soft pillow. His tattooed muscled arms starting to get heavy and limp. The spasms got to his shoulders.

...

'Definitely need to consider the body thing...' Now his breath was hitching in uneven breaths before he ultimately calmed down and allowed sleep to dampen his anxieties.

*New Year's Eve*

Alfred just threw his coat on, winter cap, and boots on. London was crowded on New Year's Eve. And he's here, pushing the people heading the opposite direction just so he could keep his view on the preteen Viking spirit that he was so desperate in following.

The boy breezed his way through the people, being made of nothing material. His red cape was just as bright as the day he left him and his axe was just as shiny as before. Even that light blond hair of his was messy as ever even though it was braided.

Finally, Al made it to a less crowded area. Mr. Viking was on a sidewalk by a pub. His fairer eyes gleamed with his toothy grin as he gestured Kid, as he called him, to come closer.

Wordlessly, America followed. The boy melted through the colored glass, making America stopped. He looked through the window with his bright blue eyes, never leaving the boy as he phased his way through everybody in the bar.

He stopped by a man sitting on a stool, chatting with three other men and a teenager. Alfred squinted his eyes and fixed his glasses, he knew them.

Denmark had a smile on his face as he chatted effortlessly with his four brothers, who seemed to be smiling brighter than he had ever seen before.

'Well that's good news, Mr. Vi...but what's yer point?' Alfred rested his chin between his forefinger and thumb, unable to see the connection.

That's when it happened.

He saw Mr. Viking slowly come closer to Denmark, who was oblivious. He turned his smaller back away from the Dane in order to look at the American clearly.

He started to vanish into nothing, his grin wide and cheeks rosy.

3...

'Mr. Vi?' Alfred thought, the pads of his fingers stuck to the glass.

2...

Mr. Viking rubbed his nose and swung his axe over his shoulder. "See ya'round...Kid..."

1...

"Mr. VIKING!" He shouted even when his friend was nothing more than an empty space.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The whole of London roared, but it didn't mask the dull pain that consumed Alfred's heart. He slid down on his knees. His eyes were glared murderously at the space his friend once occupied.

"So you would leave me, after all..." His tears broke from his eyes as he balled his shirt. He refocused on the laughing Nordics who were having the time of their lives and it suddenly struck him that even Matthias would be leaving him. It came to him that he was nothing but a cheap replacement for whom he really loved and cared about, his four little brothers. HIS BABY BROTHERS WHO ALL LEFT HIM BEFORE.

Alfred got up, feeling as though every part of him was nothing but stone. "...I still...love..." He shut his mouth and silently walked back home. If not his home here, then he'd fly back to America in no time. Mattie was with Ivan for the holidays and Arthur and Francis would already be in bed celebrating.

He kept on running and running, not even caring to stop and apologize to the number of people he had knocked out of his way. His azure eyes were pouring pain. He dashed to his house, ran up the stairs, and went out to his balcony.

Sure as hell that the only person he really had to spend the New Years with had other plans. And the boy that usually kept him company for those just decided to leave him.

"Happy Holidays..." America perched himself on top of his building before leaping, spreading his wings and taking flight. People would be too busy looking at the fireworks to look at the direction he was heading.

Alfred took out the last cigarette in his sixth pack of the night. He had cans of very heavy beer crushed and scattered everywhere on the felt floor.

It's funny how much beer helped his economy grow. No really...it even has something to do with his National Anthem.

Anyway, it seemed like he under-stocked and five packs weren't enough. He got out a bottle of the strongest Vodka he could find which was supposed to be reserved for tomorrow morning , but he wasn't in the mood to wait and fill himself with anticipation.

He had his balcony window-door opened for leaning material. He sat on the floor, feet tucked towards his groin in an Indian seat. His broad back rose and fell with his steady breaths. The city lights painted his front and some of his back, highlighting the verse of Roman 12:2 inked as a justified text on his right upper back and the single royal-tribal-vintage wing tattoo on his left, in a resting position.

His mouth switched between his roll-up and his bottle. His brilliant golden eyes stayed still, focused on something that wasn't even there.

It's called alcohol-nicotine-nepeta cataria therapy. A therapy he's made up just a few weeks ago on New Year's Eve.

Therapy…yeah, he's missed like three already and he didn't have the guts to look at Sadiq in the eyes. It's not like it really worked but the Turk spent three hours with him made him feel less alone. He just didn't want to be alone but ditching him was a huge contradiction.

It'll probably go away in a day or two. It's just the brooding realization that he's destined to be alone forever was definitely a punch to the face.

'Come on, even a ghost left me for something…' He groaned, expelling the warm smoke through his nose. What was the point anymore?

He lost his mother. He wanted Arthur to leave him alone. He was seeing his brother less and less. All of his friends, even Tony, were with their lovers. His best friend was busy treating his four little brothers like teacup yorkies.

It was just him, himself, and he.

'Just a few more days…then put a smile on…keep things in.' He gave himself a little pep talk a midst passing his inhuman alcohol limit.

Just then he heard his apartment's main door to open. There was only one person who had an extra key.

"Al...sorry that I took a late flight...I had to finish some stuff..." The voice was identical to his only in a different accent. He hasn't heard that voice for over a week. Hasn't seen him since Christmas.

The footsteps got closer. Doors opened and closed. Sighs and grumbles were heard. "Al?"

His room door creaked open...very slowly...very slowly.

"Al...there you are..." The voice sounded happy but it was very obvious to his ears that he was hiding his repulsion.

He felt his twin kneel behind him and collapse on him with a warm hug. The woolen mittens send chills as it grazed his bare skin and the thick cloth of his coat felt a little cold.

"...Sorry that I didn't come here sooner." Mattie apologized, arms crushing him tighter. "From what it looks like, you've been pretty busy. What happened?"

"Fuck off." Al grumbled but didn't push the Canadian away, knowing that his twin would just embrace him tighter.

"Something bad, huh? Don't tell me you saw Francis bang Arthur." Canada gave a small chuckle which irritated America even more, his tongue clicked audibly.

His twin started to sway to and fro. He kept on shushing and humming whatever song he felt was appropriate, kissing the too of his crown repeatedly.

Alfred held Mattie's forearm tightly. His smoke-stick was extinguished and allowed to fall from his mouth.

"I-I love you..."

"Je'taime, mon frère..."

They stayed as they were for a good half-hour. Alfred's pain was completely irrational yet understandable. Mattie could feel everything as if it surged from his twin to him.

"You're never gonna be alone, Al. Trust me." Canada said comfortably, moving to his brother's side and pushing the younger's head to his waiting lap.

"I actually bought you something...you know for New Years." Mattie rummaged his duffle bag.

"Sorry for the late gift." Al wanted to sit up but a firm hand held him in place. He was patted softly on his back, somehow he knew what it meant.

He turned to lie on his stomach and crawled forward so that the upper portions of his taut eight packs rested on the other's legs. His chin rested on his forearms.

"So what does this have to do wi-OH! OH G-GOD!" America sounded like he was having an orgasm as something buzzed loudly and dug its rounded teeth across his back.

"The fuck's th-that?" He asked, shuddering in pleasure.

"Well, it's a vibrating pet...brush-thing. They said that cat's love it when it's on low and bird's like the smooth side of it so I thought that it was worth the shot." Canada explained as he ran it down the grove of his back.

"...what about...h-high?" Alfred asked, humming and moaning.

Mattie cranked up the intensity and immediately his brother tensed, his hands were underneath to push him up and he hissed loudly.

"They said that cat's didn't like it. Guess it also applies to you too." The champagne blond laughed, turning it back down to the soothing low.

"Anyway, you won't be using it without me around so...call me whenever you need it and I'll be there."

America sat up quickly, taking Canada by surprise, causing him to drop his gift when the other took him in his strong arms.

"Why can't you be here even when I don't need you...like the good ol' days?" Al's upper arms were squeezing Mattie's muscular neck.

"Al...I'll always be here...but things happened and will happen and we won't always be there for each other as often as we used to." Mattie deepened the embrace. It sounded like he didn't care but that wasn't the case.

He was dying inside actually, considering anything he could do just to spend more time with his twin. He's had a busy few months. He hasn't set his foot anywhere near the flan since October and he wasn't even active even before that. He's ignored his calls for a day or two. And their holiday together was halted with an innocent Russian's humble invitation.

"But you always have time for Ivan." America's words made Canada turn to stone. "I know you like him...a-and I don't see why you shouldn't. He's an awesome guy..." He stood up, leaving his Canadian brother on the floor as his heart swelled in embarrassment.

"But Al..." He followed suit, sitting on the bed right next to his younger brother, who planted his face in his pillow.

"I know that you can't say no...I get it."

"Akicha..." Canada whispered, running his hands down the back of his twin's head.

"Magi...?" America sounded miserable.

"You're always gonna be my brother...and no matter what happens..."

"Don't gimme that shitty speech." The other groaned through his pillow.

"Then don't mope around..."

"Then stop hanging out with Vany! Didn't you hate him before? I barely see him around too." Alfred pushed his upper body up to glare.

"Then stop ogling over Denmark! The sexual tension between you two stinks!"

"...I don't wanna see him for the mean time." The younger turned around and brought his knees under his chin.

Mattie looked in concern, bringing his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Let's talk about that...tomorrow over breakfast." He smiled. "I really need to get some sleep and I need to keep an eye on you for the night." America blushed, his eyes surprised as he perked his head up.

A soft pair of lips pressed on his forehead. "Or maybe the whole week. Either way, I'll never leave your side." Canada grinned.

Alfred let out a coarse huff of breath that was followed with stunned chuckles as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Merci, mon frère!" He tackled his brother, who yelped.

"No problem at all." Mattie said tenderly while his ribcage was getting crushed.

The sounds of purrs and snores only meant one thing. He looked down to see his twin fast asleep, his head on his chest.

"Out like a light..." Canada sighed, knowing all too well that it was almost impossible to pry out of America's hold.

'Too cute for your own good...'

Nat had her coat on and even a beret as a sort of protection from the chilly weather. She looked blankly at the planes on the runway, the huge thick glass was the only thing that was in her way from experiencing the strong artificial winds and deafening squealing sounds their engines made.

He wasn't going to show up.

She sighed deeply, fixing her scarf as she headed back to her seat. Her midnight-colored eyes skimmed the pages of a fashion magazine she bought from the new stands inside the airport.

"Last call for Minsk, Belarus. Boarding now. Last call."

The announcement on the intercom was what she dreaded to hear the most.

Natalia stood up and checked her hand-carries. She wasted no time, she showed no reluctance, she had a whole night to prepare for the emotional punch to her gut.

The gate was open and she passed the last sweep. The two behind her was an elderly couple on their way back home with smiles and giggles.

Love was never too old. She smiled at the sight before heaving out her frustrations.

"NAT!" A familiar voice that was usually only above-whisper shattered the normal ensemble of footsteps, mumbles, and whirring of the airport.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY!" The voice roared pushing the security with amazing force.

Her eyes drifted to the sight. Her boyfriend was in nothing but a coat, boxers, and an undershirt. His hair was messy in a small tie and his face was dark with stubbles.

"NAT!" He got passed the security but was pinned down by the police. Still, he gave one huge fight against the five big men.

"Come on, just a goodbye kiss to my girl is all I ask, damn it!" He snarled as he was given a thorough pat down.

"Then why are you dressed like a hobo?" Asked a middle-aged woman who was the chief of security.

"My brother drugged me...but that's not the poin-"

"Then what is?" Belarus stepped in front of the six men plus the woman. Her hands were on her curvy hips and her foot tapped impatiently.

"Get the fuck off." Norway pushed them all off and rubbed his sore neck as he looked down his girl.

"Sorry I'm late..." He grinned, hand going to her cheek but got smacked on his cheek instead.

It stung...even harder than her whip actually. His eyes refocused seeing the heat in her eyes.

"Happy anniversary, ass!" Belarus greeted coldly before walking away. God, he didn't even showed the least bit of effort.

Norway froze like a statue. Fuck, their anniversary was last night. Nothing could bring him out of his trance, eyes fixed on the curvy silhouette that became smaller and smaller until it got completely covered by the other passengers sharing the same flight as her.

A few moments later, the door closed and the plane started to move. Lukas watched at her plane wheeled itself down the runway, his hand stuck on the glass as if glued there. The plane took off with his love and his shattered heart.

He took huge waddles to a hard chair and brought his hands over his low-hanging head. His eyes focused on the fuzzy bunny slippers he had on.

Why couldn't he say something sooner? Or better yet, how could he be stupid enough to forget about her?

"I'm sorry..." It was the only thing he could say to himself as the people let him be to wallow in his misery, to reflect on his mistake.