"You can be the moon and still be jealous of the stars." -Gary Allan
Matthew Williams wasn't known for his strength or his confidence, but standing here in front of his brother, watching him cry at his feet, he felt powerful. It had been too many years of living in the shadows, constantly being overlooked because Alfred was the louder one, the more memorable one, and now he was the fallen nation groveling for forgiveness.
America was broken down and it was time for Canada to rise.
Smiling with a darkened glint in his lavender eyes Matthew knelt towards his tearful twin and cupped his chin in his hands, sweetly placing a devil's kiss on his brother's forehead.
"Oh Alfred, I'll take care of you." He whispered deceivingly, wiping the salty droplets from his brother's cheeks.
The other immediately wrapped his arms around the Canadian bursting into more ferocious sobs, causing both their bodies to quake from the intensity.
"T-Thank you, Mattie." Alfred gasped through his constricted throat, his glasses sliding from his lap onto the wooden steps.
Gripping tighter at the bomber jacket his twin always wore Matthew's grin curled into a malicious leer.
"You're welcome brother."
Arthur Kirkland was quite surprised when he arrived at the conference room. Instead of himself or Ludwig being the first to enter he was astonished to see Alfred sitting rather peculiarly beside his twin Matthew. In fact it almost appeared like the young American was perched half way onto the other's lap. The Brit let out a restless sigh. At least Francis wasn't here yet, Lord knows what type of crude innuendo he'd make upon this situation.
Clearing his throat roughly, causing the two to turn his way, he greeted them.
"Good morning Alfred, Matthew. I see at least one of you has finally come on time."
Lifting his head abruptly from a dazed glance Alfred opened his mouth to respond, only to close it quickly as he made uncertain eye contact with his brother which the latter nodded in approval.
"Hey Artie." He mumbled out apprehensively, the young man's blue eyes looking past the Brit's head with a glazed expression.
Well that was concerning, thought Arthur as his monstrous eyebrows furrowed. Usually the American never held back his alarmingly obnoxious voice. Changing his attention to the other twin he felt a twinge of fear run down his spine.
Matthew, was he glaring at him?
Blinking the Brit focused more on the Canadian man who suddenly now seemed to be staring back innocently, his eyes sparkling again with his signature docile nature.
"Is something wrong Arthur?" Matthew whispered, pushing a loose curl behind his ear.
The British man noticed Alfred stiffened next to him.
What in the Queen's good name was going on?
Shaking his head slightly Arthur sighed. This was not the place for his espionage work, perhaps later he would spy on his two former colonies because something was clearly wrong.
"Nothing of the matter. I must simply be tired from the long journey here. I think I shall make myself a hot cup of tea."
Eyeing the brothers again Arthur asked, "Would either of you care for a cup as well?"
Matthew dug his nails deep into Alfred's thigh silencing him before replying to the other man.
"No thank you. We're fine." Canada forced out through a dull smile.
"Righto then."
Arthur walked by the two managing to see Matthew's hand fly away from the wrinkles on his brother's pants, Alfred sat in stillness beside him, his lower lip bitten down by his teeth as the Brit moved on.
Something extremely troublesome was definitely occurring.
Dammit he was going to need France.
"Angleterre! I do not understand you when you are ranting in that incompréhensible dialecte!"
"Bloody hell! Francis, I'm speaking english!" Arthur hissed into the speaker of his phone. Here he was with only fifteen minutes until the meeting started hiding in a closet, calling for a lazy French wanker to get himself over to the conference.
"Exactement! How do you expect me to understand such a brutish language?" Francis' voice called out harshly.
Arthur pinched his nose as the stress built up inside.
'Calm thoughts, Arthur. He's just a cheese eating bastard who likes to piss you off.'
Growling in frustration the Brit swore, "Just get your arse here now! We're about to start!"
"I will be there soon. You know it takes a while to look this perfect. One must alway-"
He hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket. Angrily storming his way out from the closet the Brit knew he would have to solve this himself. Stupid France was useless when he was stuck in self obsessive ways.
Stomping towards the summit room Arthur paused looking to the side. Across the hall little Latvia stared at him confusedly before pointing to the janitor's closet where the man had exited from and then back to Britain. The boy must have come from the bathroom as his hands still looked a bit damp. Breaking eye contact the Baltic fled running back into the bathroom slamming the door shut behind him. Wonderful, the one nation who can't keep his mouth closed just saw him.
Groaning Arthur continued on his way, his head pounding from the day was an absolute nightmare.
As usual the meeting was a disaster, but oddly through the whole conference America was relatively silent, only speaking when spoken too and only a few words at a time. Some nations found the new attitude refreshing since they could now vent out their frustrations with the United States without being dominated by his boisterous opinions. But others viewed it with apprehension because of how suspicious this new behavior was. Russia kept giving the young American looks, his cold features twisting in vexation, Japan often stole glances through his persistent note taking. And France, who was not overly concerned at the beginning, was nervously tapping his British neighbor every so often whenever Alfred's voice dropped into a barely audible whisper. However, looking past the oddities that were conspiring throughout the conference it still came to an end on time, soon countries were packing their belongings, and heading to the hotels for the next events tomorrow. Despite the fact that nothing was accomplished at least there was no property damage or medical bills to report.
Most of the nations had left by now, only a few stragglers were remaining leisurely reorganizing their paperwork into briefcases and so forth.
America lifted another file before tucking it safely into the compartments of his bag. Canada was nowhere in sight.
Slowly coming up to the bespectacled man France and Britain stood by him watching how the latter's shoulders hunched up to his ears.
"Alfred," Started Arthur with a worried look, "Are you alright? You didn't sound like yourself today."
The American didn't respond, instead his sky blue eyes danced around everywhere but on the two men in front of him. Sweat was beading upon his brow.
"Amérique? Are you feeling ill?" Chimed Francis, reaching out to place his hand on the other.
Alfred stepped back before the invading hand could touch him. His face was pale as he gathered up his things, and hastily sprinted away from the nations almost running directly into the door frame.
"Wait a moment! Alfred!" Britain called out from behind only to be abandoned by the United States retreat.
"Arthur," Francis spoke up from next to him, the Frenchman's flirtatious disposition vanishing was replaced with fear.
"What has happened to our petite Amérique?"
Stumbling for the right words, Arthur stuttered.
"I-I don't know. I really don't know."
"I'm sorry Mattie!" Alfred cried tears welling up in his eyes, "T-They cornered me! I didn't say anything! Promise!"
Matthew smiled gleefully as he towered over the American who was once again wailing at his feet. The power of being in control felt like a rush as it flooded through his system. Here he was in charge, he was the stronger one, and his sweet brother Alfred was nothing more than his perfect servant, doing his bidding without any hesitation. All for love, how pathetic.
"D-do you still need me? You're not gonna leave me… will you?"
His twin gazed up with his salt covered cheeks whining pitifully with his heart stitched back onto his sleeve.
Canada bent down collecting the other into his arms before soothingly petting his brother's unruly hair.
"Of course I won't leave you Alfie. I love you too much to let you go." He hummed while snuggling America tighter.
Feeling Alfred relax into his chest Matthew's eyes lit up with a dark hunger.
No one will forget him anymore, not when he was the master of the world's superpower. And Canada would be silent no longer, now that America has fallen.
"I love you too, Mattie." His twin croaked before falling into a restless sleep.
Wiping Alfred's face, the northern country rocked him gently to the sounds of the vicious arctic winds howling from the outside, and the Earth kept turning unaware of the tragedy that was about to commence soon destroying the known world.
Brothers born as allies were always destined to become rivals, their division fortifying balance, their allegiance creating the end.