Alfred's revolution ends everything.
The start of it all had Matthew shocked and reeling from the impact. America had always been rebellious, had always been headstrong, had always been strong willed, but not to the point of declaring war over some taxes. 'No,' Matthew reminds himself with a bitter smile, 'to America, they aren't just taxes. He thinks it symbolizes England's tyranny.' The colonists' resentment had first shown itself when Parliament passed the Royal Proclamation of 1763 then the Stamp Act in 1765; the 13 colonies, having no say in the taxes, refused to obey them.
From there, the conflict had escalated and ended with Alfred dumping boatloads of tea into the ocean in what he dubbed "The Boston Tea Party" and the skirmishes at Lexington and Concord. There were attempts at reconciliation made by the colonists, but they ultimately failed and Matthew watched his brother and his guardian's relationship spiral downward and burn.
Matthew had watched on the sidelines as his brother's inexperienced troops struggled against the trained army of a world power, he had seen the beginning of the war at Bunker Hill; watched as American colonists confirmed for themselves that British troops were not invincible then had watched them fall as battle after battle was lost.
He was almost certain that Alfred would give up eventually and submit to Arthur's desires, but then the Battle of Saratoga happened and France officially entered the war on the colonies' side. More countries declared their support to America soon afterwards and slowly, the tide of battle turned against England.
In the final battle of Yorktown in 1781, Matthew saw Arthur cry for the first time and also for the first time, saw Alfred put on a perfect poker face. From the distance he was at, Matthew couldn't pinpoint any emotion at all in the steely grey-blue eyes of his brother when Alfred moved his mouth, but he saw the shaking of Arthur's shoulders and understood that Alfred had officially ended everything between the American colonies and England.
The storm thundering and drizzling over their heads lets loose a downpour of cold bullets.
That night, as Arthur slumps in exhaustion and defeat, Matthew hears the delighted laughter of American and French troops celebrating their victory. Alfred appears but once amongst the vanquished British to distribute food to them before vanishing back into the melee of milling blue coats. After that, there is no contact at all from the blonde American; he has simply vanished into the excitement.
Francis comes in multiple times to tease Arthur, when he receives no response at all he inquires Matthew's state of health. Matthew answers the questions politely, but eventually asks Francis to please leave them be. He can't deny that a good portion of him wants to punch the Frenchman's face in for helping Alfred leave and tearing Arthur apart.
The next morning was cloudy and cold, American bands played "Yankee Doodle" at the British, taunting them subtly with the cheerful tune and laughing at them with ice-cold eyes. Matthew, hanging in the background (where he'd been forgotten again, darn it!) noticed how Arthur kept his head held high even as his dark green eyes betrayed the turmoil of emotions boiling inside of him.
Alfred and Francis stepped up to meet him as their generals did the same to the British general. Amethyst eyes followed his brother's stiff movements, noting how the war had hardened Alfred's face into lines and angles and his eyes into frozen sapphires; there is a brief discussion between the new nation and his two elders before Francis steps back and leaves the two English-speaking personifications together.
There is another short conversation before Alfred jerks away abruptly and walks back to join Francis leaving Arthur standing there alone. Matthew feels his heart clench in painful sympathy as Arthur rejoins his troops, as the personification of England, he stands erect- refusing the let the loss faze him; as Arthur Kirkland, however, he is lost, confused, hurt at the sudden betrayal of his Alfred and Matthew sees this clearly.
He, himself is feeling the exact same thing.
Feeling resentment bubbling up against his brother, Matthew turns his head away sharply when he felt Alfred glance in his direction and followed orders to board the ships just as quickly. He stands next to Arthur, watching the lines of men file onto the deck then motions for the elder to get on before him.
As he does so, Matthew notices something unusual out of the corner of his eye and turns his head. It's Alfred and Francis, standing apart from their victorious troops; but Alfred doesn't have a triumphant grin like the one he had last night; he's crying, clinging onto the Frenchman and muffling the heaving sobs against Francis' war-torn blue coat and Francis is stroking Alfred's golden hair, for once not doing anything perverted.
Matthew boards the ship, still watching as his brother quiets down and lets his clenched hands fall to his sides. He sees Francis lift Alfred's face and press a kiss to his forehead and his twin's faint smile before the ship captain yells at him to do something useful.
It isn't until years later that Matthew understands exactly what the tenderness had meant, Alfred, having just shattered and ripped apart the fabric making up his world for over a century, now had to create, weave and lead a brand-new nation. He had been seeking the last remnants of what he had destroyed before venturing out into a hostile world. In many ways, Francis was the closest thing to the comfort Alfred had experienced as a child and Alfred had clung to that for a couple of seconds, yearning to feel the safety and warmth that a guardian had always provided before, clinging onto and preserving the memory of the feeling of gentle, caring hands for one last time before finally severing everything and shouldering his country.
I think I agree with my friends that I suck at writing sad scenes. I've looked over this one multiple times and have finally given up on trying to make it more believable.
And for the record, Hetalia doesn't belong to me and I claim no rights to it.