A/N: IT'S SNOWING PEOPLE! IT'S SNOWING WHERE I LIVE! *Flips out and squeals* I'M SO EXCITED! SCHOOL GOT PUSHED BACK!

Sorry for not updating sooner, I was writing for a Young Author Competition. But I'm back now so yay! Thank you people so much for the reviews and favorites and follows, it means a lot :)

Disclaimer: Nope. Nada. Nichts. Non. Nyet. Do not own Hetalia.

Alfred woke up the next morning sore. His legs ached from running yesterday and briefly he wondered if he could walk. Then he shook his head at his silly thought and told himself that staying in bed all day wouldn't burn calories. So he got out of bed and went to the bathroom to get ready. But not before checking the scale, which showed that he had lost a pound. The American smiled. Although he was still fat, he was doing something right and losing weight. This is good, he thought, stripping and turning on the water. But I still need to lose more.

This time he showered as quickly as he could and walked out of the bathroom twenty minutes later. Instead of heading downstairs for some breakfast, Alfred headed toward his room. His stomach was killing him because he hadn't eaten in a day, but he ignored it. The American didn't trust himself enough to be surrounded by food. He felt that if he did go downstairs he'd either get into a fight with his parents or binge. And to be quite frank, neither sounded appealing at the moment.

Shutting the door behind him, Alfred walked over to his backpack and pulled out his homework. He decided to do only the classes he was there for and not the others. Arthur would have a fit, exclaiming that he could've just asked Mattie what to do, but Alfred no longer cared. Homework was stupid and useless and his dad was just full of shit.

About halfway through his work, the bedroom door opened. Alfred glanced up, saw it was his brother, and looked back down on his paper. Matthew entered the room and sat on Alfred's bed quietly. It was quiet for another two minutes before the older one softly greeted, "Good morning, Alfred."

Alfred grunted in response, not bothering to look up.

"So you left school early, eh?"

Another grunt.

"What did you do?"

This time Alfred did look up and sarcastically replied, "I hooked up with a prostitute."

Matthew's eyes grew wide and it was clear that he missed the cynicism. "Al," he gasped, "you shouldn't have! Dad will have your –"

"Chill dude," the American said, dropping the sarcasm and rolling his eyes. "I didn't actually have sex."

"O-Oh…Then what did you do?"

"I just went out for a run."

"That's it?"

Alfred nodded. He hoped the answer seemed so ridiculous that Matthew wouldn't buy it. That way the truth, though told, was still a "secret" and no one else but his dad would know. However there was still a feeling of dread that his brother would buy it and try to stop his weight loss plan. So the American watched his brother anxiously to see his reaction.

But all Matthew did was look at him funnily, as if he didn't believe what he was hearing. The Canadian opened and closed his mouth trying to find what to say. Eventually he just remarked, "That…That doesn't seem like something a person would ditch school for."

"And hooking up with a whore does?" Alfred challenged.

"ALFRED! Don't say that! That's mean and offensive!"

"Well does it?"

"N-No…maybe…I don't know! It depends on the person!"

"Would you do it~?" The younger brother asked his older brother, waggling his eyebrows.

The older brother blushed a deep red and slapped his laughing brother upside the head. "No!" He exclaimed. "Now stop acting so perverted and get your butt downstairs!"

Alfred quit laughing suddenly and a feeling of dread spread through him. Holding back a gulp, he asked, "Why should I go downstairs?"

"Papa and Dad want to see you," Matthew answered, getting up and heading for the door. "They want to talk to you."

Oh shit, Alfred thought, getting up as well and following the Canadian down. When he entered the kitchen a moment later, he saw both his parents sitting side by side and discussing something. Upon seeing him, they quickly shut up and motioned him to sit across from them. Alfred did and Francis got up to get something from the counter.

"Good morning, Alfred," Arthur said.

He seems to be in a good mood, Alfred observed. "Mornin' Dad, Papa," He replied somewhat nervously. Francis turned around and nodded to acknowledge him before going back to doing whatever he was doing.

"Now Alfred, I want you to be one hundred percent honest with us, alright?" The Brit told his son.

Shifting in his seat, the teenager agreed warily, "Okay…"

"Now this is of extreme importance, so you can't go messing it up like always."

"Alright…"

"Are you hungry?"

The question hit Alfred like a ton of bricks. Honestly he had expected something more crucial than that. Was he hungry? Yes. Would he admit that to anyone? No. Not a chance. So he shook his head and lied, "No."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Francis whipped around just then and chimed in, "You haven't eaten in a day, Alfred. This is hardly normal behavior for you."

"So?"

"So why don't you have some breakfast?" His British dad offered casually. But his green eyes were aflame with a hidden challenge that only Alfred saw.

Said teen suppressed a shudder and declined. "No thank you. I brushed my teeth already."

The flame appeared to get brighter from rage and Alfred shrank back. Francis seemed to notice for he stepped forward and put a hand on his husband's shoulder, causing the rage to die down a bit. Arthur grumbled and looked away, but didn't shake off the touch, and Alfred decided it was time he left before something bad happened. He didn't even bother to say anything as he left the kitchen. It wasn't as if he needed to anyway, his parents were starting to fight with each other again and had completely forgotten about him.

Alfred's legs protested as he climbed the stairs to get to his bedroom. Opening the door, he was shocked to see Matthew rummaging through his things. He hadn't noticed his brother leave the kitchen. "Matthew!" Alfred nearly yelled, shocking his older brother. "What are you doing?!"

Matthew turned around to look at him and gave a sheepish grin. "H-Hi Al," he said, "I was just looking for some socks. I-I ran out…"

The American stomped towards his now disheveled backpack and held it up for the Canadian to see. "Why the hell would any socks be in here?" He snarled.

"U-Um…"

"They'd be in the drawer, stupid! So why the fuck are you ransacking my room?"

"W-Well –"

"You know what? Save it. I don't wanna hear it," Alfred griped, zipping up his open backpack. To hell if it was messy inside. He didn't give a damn anymore.

Matthew watched hopelessly from where he was sitting on the floor, his violet-blue eyes wide. "Al-Alfred," he began.

"I said save it!" Alfred yelled before storming downstairs.

It appeared he wasn't the only one who was yelling because from the foyer he could hear Arthur and Francis fighting too. "Well what the bloody hell did you want me to do different?!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Maybe if you had not lost your temper –" Francis was cut off.

"Lose my temper? Lose. My. Temper! That was not losing my temper, frog!"

"Then explain what it was because Alfred seemed –"

"TO HELL WITH WHAT ALFRED SEEMED LIKE!" Arthur roared, and from where Alfred was putting on his shoes he could tell his dad had snapped. The teenager stopped to bitterly listen to what else his parent had to say. He was not disappointed. "TO HELL WITH ALL OF THIS! I TRIED TO TEACH THAT BRAT, BUT HE WON'T LISTEN TO ME! I DON'T CARE IF HE HAS ONLY TWO MORE YEARS UNTIL COLLEGE, I CAN'T STAND HIM!"

There was a sound of china crashing and the Frenchman cursed before exclaiming, "Arthur! He could be listening! Shut u –"

"Don't. Tell. Me. To. Shut. Up! And I'm glad if he is listening because I wish he was more like Matthew! At least then he wouldn't be so–"

Alfred walked towards the kitchen and stopped at the doorway. There he saw his dad's red face and a teacup smashed on the floor. His papa had his fists clenched, teeth grit and had fury in his eyes. The two were looking at each other and it was clear to Alfred that neither noticed him, so he exclaimed really loudly, "Tell that to my face, you bastard!"

Arthur broke eye contact to gape at his adoptive son, so did Francis. Never ever had he been called that by his children to the face. Or even at all.

Alfred sneered at the Brit with hatred, although inside he felt like he was dying from all the hurt. "That's what I thought," he said before giving the middle finger and pronouncing, "So fuck you too, prick."

Then he walked back to the foyer, grabbed his bomber jacket, and slammed the door behind him.

"Hey Gilbert," Alfred started, watching his friend eat his lunch. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ja, sure, what is it?" Gilbert replied back idly.

"Can I stay at your house tonight?"

The albino looked at him weirdly while chewing slowly. After he swallowed he asked carefully, "Why?"

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Well I kinda sorta got into a fight with my da – with Arthur and I don't wanna go back home."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, noticing the first name change. Alfred cringed and looked downwards, feeling ashamed. He probably will say no, he thought glumly. He probably doesn't want a fatass taking up space. I know if I were him I wouldn't want me to intrude either. What if he already has plans? What if I'm inconveniencing him?

"Does Birdie know?" The Prussian finally asked.

"No," Alfred admitted. He hadn't seen his brother since he left the house, and he wanted to keep it that way. Some might call it avoiding his problems, but he called it calming down.

Yet lunch was halfway through and there still had been no sign of him. Gilbert had wondered to the others about it, but no one knew where the Canadian was. Feliciano, who had art with him first period, said that he had seen him and that he looked upset. Yao said that he'd seen him in the halls. However Ludwig had stated that Matthew hadn't shown up to third period at all. He ditched, Alfred had realized. But why?

Gilbert's voice brought him back to the present. "So what are you going to tell him?" He inquired.

"Mattie?" Alfred asked for clarification.

"Yes. Und your parents auch."

"I'll text Mattie where I am. I won't tell my parents though."

Instead of asking for more details, Gilbert simply nodded in understanding. "Okay," he said. "I'll tell Opa you're staying over."

Alfred looked up, not daring to breathe. "Really?"

"Didn't the Awesome Me already say yes?"

"Thanks so much, Gilbert."

"Mach dir keine Sorgen, es ist okay," The albino said before yelling down the table, "Hey West!"

Ludwig looked up from where he was talking to Feliciano on the other end. When Gilbert motioned for him to come over, the blonde said something to Feli – who pouted before letting him go – and got up. Walking over to his brother and Alfred, Ludwig asked tiredly, "What is it?"

"Oh stop being such a bore, Luddy," Gilbert teased, using the nickname a certain Italian gave the blonde. This made Ludwig blush and the albino laughed before talking to him in rapid German. It made Alfred's head spin, but he didn't complain.

Two minutes later, Ludwig nodded and turned to Alfred. "I hope you don't mind," he started, "but Feliciano is going to be there too."

Alfred shook his head. "No dude, its fine. I kinda barged in. Sorry."

"Hey!" Gilbert interjected. "Didn't I tell you not to worry? Its fine, everyone has fallouts with their parents. God knows I have. Plus I need someone to help distract me from the noises that might be going on in Ludwig's room. Kesesese~"

Ludwig narrowed his eyes and smacked his brother upside the head, although he was blushing. The gesture looked so much like what Mattie did to him earlier that Alfred felt something constrict in his chest. He smiled anyway, just to appear in a good mood when he really wasn't.

Eventually Ludwig returned back to his seat, and by the way Feliciano was reacting, he was telling his friend about Alfred's stay. Gilbert watched them with amusement whilst eating chips for a moment before turning to Alfred. "Since," he said, "you're running away from your unawesome home to my awesome home, I have one order to give to you."

"Okay, dude. What is it?" Alfred asked.

Gilbert smiled wickedly and, without breaking eye contact, pulled out an apple to give to the blonde. "Eat this," was all he said.

Alfred inwardly shrunk back. An apple was food and food was the enemy. He couldn't eat that. He just couldn't. But he was so hungry and his stomach was killing him and it was an apple. It was a fruit. Fruits were supposed to be good for you, right? He glanced down at the red fruit and then up at the albino's shockingly white face a few times. Eat it? Don't eat it?

The American was surprised when he took the apple and bit into it that the voice didn't start nagging. He still felt disgusted though and finished it off as quickly as possible, throwing it away in the trash when he was done. The food sat in his stomach uncomfortably and Alfred found he wanted to run it off.

Gilbert just smiled at him, said "Good.", and started to talk with Yao about something, leaving Alfred to deal with the weird feeling inside.

The blonde took his seat (which was in the back) in History class and waited for class to start. He sat alone, having no friends in the class, and let his eyes wander. There were groups of friends talking with each other; there were students filling out last minute homework; and then there was Ivan Braginsky, who took his seat next to Alfred's. The American groaned inaudibly. He didn't want to be teased or picked on just yet.

But all Ivan did was look at him for a second or two before getting something from his binder. Out of the corner of his eye, the blue eyed teen saw him write something on a piece of paper and rip it out. Then the next thing he knew, a note was passed to him.

He cringed as he opened it up, remembering Natalya's note, and risked a glance at the Russian. Said Russian wasn't paying any attention to him though, and was getting out his homework. So Alfred thought it was somewhat safe to read.

Hi ^J^

That was all it said.

Alfred got out a pencil and wrote back, Uh, hi?

Then he tossed it to Ivan before busying himself with paying attention to the teacher, who was lecturing someone over something. Vaguely, he felt something hit him in the arm a minute later and went to go pick up the note.

How are you?

Briskly, the American wrote back, I'm fine, ruskie. Leave me alone. Then he flung the note to Ivan just as the bell rang.

Half of the class went by before Alfred received another message.

Is something bothering you?

Alfred ignored the question.

A minute later: You seem on edge.

The American scowled. Ivan had no business knowing what he was doing or feeling. Yes, he wrote, there is something bothering me. You. Leave me the fuck alone already!

He hit Ivan in the face when he threw the wadded up paper. He didn't feel bad. In return the Russian got the message and didn't interact with him for the rest of the period.

Lockers slammed. People left. It was the end of school for the day.

Alfred waited outside Gilbert's locker and jogged in place. It was the best he could do given the circumstances, and if anyone asked why he'd tell them that he was anxious. A lie, but then again didn't he lie now? Wasn't he a big, fat liar?

Eventually Gilbert came into view and Alfred stopped jogging to wave him over. The Prussian waved back and ran the rest of the way. "So," he said when he reached his locker, "are you ready for an awesome sleepover?"

"Um –" Alfred began only to have Gilbert interrupt.

"Kesesese~ it's going to be so much fun! We'll prank Ludwig and Feli and then watch their unawesome – or totally awesome, depending on how things go – reactions. Are you prepared to run? Mein Bruder tends to overact. You know, sometimes he's too serious for his own good. That's why Feliciano balances him out."

"Uh yeah, sure dude. Sounds awesome. Hey, is your granddad okay with this?"

"Opa? Pfft he's fine, don't worry about him," Gilbert remarked waving a hand in dismissal. "If he questions anything, I'll just pull out The Card."

Alfred looked at his friend strangely. "The Card?"

"Ja. The Card."

"What's The Card?"

"I'll tell him that if Ludwig can have Feli over, I can have one of my friends over too. He won't argue over that! Kesesese~. Oh, before the Awesome Me forgets, do you have your night gear?"

Alfred shifted his feet nervously. "Um, no...I left the house right after…"

Gilbert shrugged and started to put things in his locker. "Its fine," he said, "we'll just go to the store to get a toothbrush and some toothpaste for you. No problem."

"What about night clothes?"

The albino closed his locker and leaned against it, sizing up the blonde. "Hmm, you might fit into Ludwig's clothes. You two are about the same size. We'll have to ask him first though."

No, the American thought while nodding his head. We're not. He's skinner than I am. No way would he want me in his clothes.

"So, you ready to go?" Gilbert asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Yeah, man," Alfred replied, shifting his weight.

"Cool. Race you to car on three?"

"You're going down."

"Eins–"

"Two –"

"Drei!"

Together they raced to the parking lot, bumping into people along the way. Some cussed them out, others ignored them. The race ended up being a tie, which was good enough for both of them. Gilbert was laughing, out of breath, and Alfred was smiling from the run. They got into the car and waited for Ludwig and Feliciano to show up by listening to German rock music. It was the most fun Alfred had in ages, and he forgot about his weight problem for a bit.

However, it all came crashing down when he saw a certain person drive into the parking lot and park near them.

Translations:

Und – And (German)

Auch – Too (German)

Opa - Granddad (German)

Mach dir keine Sorgen, es ist okay – Don't worry, it's okay. (German)

Mein Bruder - My brother (German)

Eins – One (German)

Drei – Three (German)