A strong of laughter entwined with everyone at the table, equally complimented with bright smiles. A soft jazz music wafted through the air, obviously derived from the skillful pianist and singer upon the center stage. Food was laid out on the table for all to eat: breadsticks, meat, cups of water and soda, a bowl of vegetables, and more. They always did order a ton of food. Half of the people at the table tended to eat like pigs while the other two hardly ate more than half. What a contrast. Arthur sat at the end of the table, locked into a conversation with their dad. His hands moved excitedly as if painting out through the air what he was saying. It could probably be guessed that it had something to do with adult hood and after school. That was the hot topic nowadays with Arthur. Conversation on whether he wanted to go to college in the UK or if he wanted to stay in the States. Whatever he chose would be praised and supported no doubt. He had just graduated and was on the brink to a new life* Turning his head to the side, Alfred caught his mother's gaze. She was smiling at him, reaching over to wipe some smeared food off his lip. The touch was faint yet still there. Alfred smiled back, simply taking in the moment. The comforting jazz music. The sight of his brother and father talking as pip as they usually did. The sight of his mother still caring for his appearance like a child and smiling. It all was so vivid. Suddenly, everything went black. Alfred found himself in the car. He was leaning against the side door in an odd angle, everything around him being blurred. The jazz music was drowned out by the deafening sound of police sirens and people's screams. The warmth of the restaurant was quickly replaced with an eerie chill. It ensnared his shivering body as he rested weakly against the car door. Turning his head, Alfred caught sight of Arthur sitting beside him. The boy was resting forward on the seat, blood dripping from his head. His eyes were closed and his face was pale. "Arthur?" Alfred called out weakly, pain prodding his body at that mere attempt to speak. He reached over as much as he could to take his brother's hand and shook it weakly. No response. His hand was limp yet warm. Faintly. Looking up to the front seat, Alfred glimpsed the sight that would never leave his mind again. His father was resting against the car wheel, eyes open but unseeing. His arm was outstretched across to the passenger seat where they were weakly against his mother's chest... She rested against her side window, blood painting the side of her face and window. Her eyes, equal as her husband's, were open and dead. No one in the car moved. Alfred's breathing hitched and he forced himself up, reaching over to shake his parents' shoulders. "M-Mom? Dad? Wake up, please. Come on, wake up, please." The American choked, tears stinging his eyes. He turned quickly to Arthur, ignoring the twinge in his side and leg. He shook Arthur as well, silently praying that someone would beckon to his call. "Arthur! Please, answer me!" He cried out. The police sirens grew evermore louder along with the faint wails and noises of concern from those outside. The blood on the windows began to stretch before they covered everything. The air chilled to the point where it was unbearable. Everything was overwhelming and simply too much to handle. Alfred felt his breathing quicken and shorten as he sat back in the car seat. His eyes were wide, taking in the image of his still dead parents and crimson colored brother. All were hurt. They were dead. He was alone. He was all alone- Arthur was awoken from his sleep from the sound of strained cries and frantic breathing. The digital clock that was propped up on the bedside table blinked 3:05am. Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, Arthur turned on his side to look at the other bed beside his own. In the identical twin bed, Alfred's outline was seen sitting upright, his shadow heaving in the dark. Cracking sobs emitted from the distraught boy, awaking Arthur even more. "Alfred? Are you alright?" The eldest brother asked, getting off of his bed and sitting on the side of the bed beside Alfred. Alfred flinched a bit when Arthur sat by but instantly flung himself on the other once he comprehended that this was indeed reality. Arthur was here and alive. He alone was alive. With cracking sobs, Alfred buried his face into Arthur's shoulder, holding onto him as if afraid to let go. "P-Please don't go; I can't lose you too... I can't lose you." The boy wailed, words barely audible from his gasps and sorrow stricken voice. "Arthur, please- I don't want you to go. Don't go. D-Don't go." This wasn't the first time Alfred had awoken in sweat and tears, completely in disarray from reality. It happened frequently ever since the loss of their parents. Yet, no matter how many times it happened Arthur took matters into his own hands as delicate and gentle as he could. Even if it meant repeating the same words and actions a million times. "Shh, Alfred, it's alright. I'm here." The brother reassured, stroking the tear stained boy's hair softly. "I'm not going anywhere I promise. I'm staying right here with you." Truly, Arthur couldn't understand why it was only Alfred who tended to wake with such nightmares. Ever since their parents death, grief and loss seemed to affect him in an entirely different way. Alfred was left with constant nightmares and easily triggered by certain things to relive all of that. It was easier for him to have a breakdown. However, with Arthur, he simply couldn't fathom how much less of a reaction he gave than his brother. Sure, he had nights where he couldn't sleep, forever haunted by that crash and waking up in a hospital bed parentless. The only other substantial effect he could think about was his increase in smoking and depression. That was all. Part of him grew guilty because of that fact but another part was semi grateful. With a lesser weight on his shoulders, he'd be strong enough to help his little brother along the way if needed. "I-I was there again. You were dead and-and mom and dad and-" Alfred hiccuped, hugging Arthur tighter as he spoke. Arthur, not even bringing to light how Alfred was practically suffocating him , continued to rub the other's back and whisper soft words of care and love into his ear. Throughout these many experiences, he learnt that was what calmed Alfred down most. "You're alright, Alfred. I promise." Arthur breathed, smiling just a tad when he noticed Alfred's slower breathing and dying cries. So, he continued. "You're safe. We're in our bedroom. It's- my God, it's 4am. I'm here living and breathing and quite tired. You're here as well. Everything is okay." Alfred sniffed, nodding silently with a few stray whimpers still escaping his lips. The two sat there on the bed for a few more minutes in simple silence, letting time do its work to calm unnerved feelings. Arthur kept the embrace tight and unwavering, doing his best to continue reassuring his little brother with mere movement and physical contact. There was a limit to what words could do and sometimes you just had to resort to other branches of help. After about five minutes passed, Alfred completely calmed and pulled back from Arthur's arms. Blue eyes were cried raw and gleamed brokenly from the dim lit room. "Thank you." The boy responded softly, chewing his bottom lip absentmindedly as if to keep any late tears from breaking through. There wasn't much else to say upon the subject. Now that the tears were over, sleep and how tired he was began to come back to light. "I'm sorry, again. I didn't mean to wake you up." Arthur smiled gently, nodding his head in a motion to imply Alfred to lie back down. He did so with relief. "There is no need to apologize. I would wake a hundred nights just to make sure I was here to calm you down. Just, get some rest now. You have to wake up in two hours for school. It's never a good feeling to only get a few hours of sleep. Trust me." Alfred smiled slightly at his brother's words, eyes drooping as he rested his head upon his pillow. Arthur didn't move from where he sat on the side of the bed. He continued to rub Alfred's back gently and stayed by his side till he was sure his brother was completely and happily asleep. These nights did feel like a hundred. At the beginning, Arthur kept track of how many nights Alfred awoke with nightmares, thinking the amount might have been helpful in regards to their therapist they had seen at the beginning. However, by the thirtieth night, Arthur had lost track and simply kept it as 'many'. A twinge in his heart made him furrow his brows in the slightest as he gazed at Alfred's expressionless sleep. Oh, what he would do to take away his nightmares and hurt. If he could, he would put Alfred's nightmares as his own. As much as he was semi grateful he didn't have such of an emotional burden, he still wished Alfred could have not have to deal with such things. Through time, Arthur hoped he would move past all this grief. There had to be someway it could be fixed or, at least, dealt with more accurately. Pushing away those thoughts from his tired mind, Arthur let his ideas wander into what the next day's events ahead. _ A/N: Sorry this took ages. I don't like Hetalia anymore- quite frankly, it makes me very upset. A lot of people in the fandom have been incredibly rude and disrespectful to me and, honestly, it's made me not even want to continue my stories. I'm still going to because I did promise I would finish every story but don't badger me every week for a new chapter. It takes forever for me to write for something I don't care about anymore. Anyways, enjoy. Sorry it became half assed towards the end. - Matt