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Chapter 14
Canada drove down the twisting dirt roads, trying hard not to go too fast. If he didn't, all the bumps, curves, and rocks that littered their way would be felt by everyone in the car. France had never let go of the safety handle since they had turned down the road an hour before. Canada had never seen his father so frightened. Japan kept a bag right in his lap, just in case he lost his lunch. Alfred, who had been carried almost the entire way to the car at the start of their journey, now sat by Japan. His brother was just in a lull, staring out the window. Canada thought he saw some recognition in Alfred's eyes but wasn't too sure. For anyone else, though, it would appear that Alfred was a bored teenager who was annoyed at his parents for taking him on another boring trip. At least, Canada thought, Alfred was not in the other car that was following them.
Since the group couldn't find a big enough vehicle to use, they decided to divide into two groups. Arthur demanded that'd he drive – much to Sweden's dismay – due to the fact that he was one of the few people to have actually been out to Alfred's hidden home. But Canada immediately started praying when China and Prussia joined the two. And when Italy had said he would make sure they all got along and hopped into the car with them . . . Canada knew the five wouldn't last too long together. One of them would burst. Especially in such a small car – a car that squeezed the three people unfortunate enough to sit in the back. He understood why Japan had silently attached himself to Alfred; not just to ensure his friend was safe, but that he was as well.
But Canada ignored looking in the rearview mirror at the car behind him – though he thought he saw things being catapulted in the backseat – when he turned around the next bend.
Instantly the world of claustrophobic trees opened up to a large clearing.
"Oh, my!" France peered out the front windshield. "I haven't seen this place in years! And look at it!"
"Yes," Canada said, hearing Japan's awe float to his ear. "He's added a garden and repainted."
"That's not just a new coat of paint, mon Cher! It's an entirely new house! Nearly a mansion!"
Canada smiled. "Well . . . yes. . . Alfred has gotten into a lot of DIY shows and decided to upgrade his house. Though it took him a while, he's done all the work himself."
.
The two cars drove between ten fully blossomed apple trees before curving around the circle drive. The garden was out of view from the front, but the scent of flowers wafted through the air around them as all nine nations got out of either car.
"This is amazing!" Italy cheered. He ran up, wrapped his arms around Alfred's arm, and hugged it tightly, "You have a beautiful home!"
"Y-yeah. . . I guess I do." Alfred stared up at it, taking in the white trim, light red paint, and the giant blue metal star hanging from one of the peaks. "Woah."
"It is a nice place." China stretched, "But not as large as my Forbidden City!"
"Ha!" Prussia smacked China's back, nearly sending the other into a nearby puddle. "You should have seen my palace! It was the best one ever built in Europe! Magnificent! And awesome just like me!"
"Oh please." England sneered, grabbing the bag Russia had given him from the trunk. "You can't count Austria's palace as your own, just because you took over his land. Besides, mine is the best!"
"Quit lying, you Brit!"
"Oui! Mine is obviously the best!"
"Your last king soiled it with his terrible name, Frog!"
"How dare you!"
"Mine is the best, aru!"
As the four rambled on with size comparisons, Canada unlocked the door. Sweden walked up to Alfred and ruffled his hair.
"Hey!" the younger pulled away, batting at his hand.
"Let's go in. You're shaking."
It was only then that Alfred realized the little goose bumps that were forming on his arms. He ducked away from the other's hand before leading Italy into the house. Japan and Sweden followed suit with some of the group's luggage they had brought from the hotel, leaving the four bickering old men outside.
A large foyer opened up into the kitchen on the left and a living room on the right that could hold nearly ten families comfortably. Japan and Italy gawked at the detailing each room had. Even the banister of the curving staircase had intricate designs on each piece.
"Wowie! This is amazing!" Italy let go of Alfred, jumping from room to room.
"Indeed." Japan snuck his hidden camera out, taking pictures of nearly everything. "And you said Alfred did all this himself?"
"Yes," Canada smiled, taking Alfred's hand and pulling him to the living room. "Alfred, you did all of this just by watching shows and looking up what you didn't know online or in books."
Alfred was just as star struck as Italy, though he kept himself grounded, letting Canada drag him to the oversized couch. "Really?"
"Yes. You really are handy." Canada turned back to Sweden, who was rubbing down the banister. "Uh. . . Sweden?"
"So complex. Elaborate. Amazing."
"Uh. . . Sweden."
The man's shoulders jumped and he turned slowly to Canada as if he was a child who had just been caught stealing cookies before dinner.
"C-could you bring the duffle bag over here?"
"S-sure." Forcing himself to break the allure of the carvings on the banister, Sweden walked over and placed the bag on the floor in front of the two brothers.
"Thank you." Canada took no time in unzipping the bag. He pulled out a variety of personal items he knew Alfred cherished. "Sorry, brother. I kind of went through your stuff here. But I thought these would help you remember part of who you are." He set everything he had into Alfred's lap, almost forcibly.
Canada silently urged Alfred to remember something. Anything. He watched as his brother picked up one of the trinkets and examined it, the little wooden soldier resting in his hands.
"Arthur . . . gave me this . . ."
"Yes! He did!"
"I was very young . . ."
Just then, the door opened up, the four bickering men bringing in some bags of their own.
"England!" Canada waved, "He's remembering!"
"What?!" England sat down Russia bag and rushed over, leaning over Alfred's shoulder to see the little toy. "Wait, you still have those? I thought you'd gotten rid of them." A smile formed. "I remember the day I gave those to you. A whole set I carved just for your birthday."
"Why . . ." Alfred whispered.
"What?"
"Why. . . "
"Alfred, what are you-" Canada leaned in but was taken aback.
"Alfred?" England placed his hand on the other nation's shoulder. "What are you trying to-"
Alfred's shoulder shook lightly as he started to cry.
"You left for another fight."
England froze, mouth agape.
"Why? Why was I never good enough for you?"
Alfred stood, shoulders still shaking. Only Sweden and Canada could see the tears flow from his misty eyes.
"Did I . . . do something wrong?"
England tried to push the words his words out. "N-no." He forced himself to stay put, to face his regret. "I-I-I left you . . . because I was stupid." His eyes shot down to the ground, teeth gritting as he bared his darkest heart to not just his former brother and son, but his former enemies who were in earshot. "I-I-I thought I needed more. . . I wanted more land . . . wanted to get back at those who hurt me . . . and in the process, I lost sight of what was most important to me." England swallowed the knot that was forming in his throat. "I lost you. And you grew lonely. And left me soon after. I forced you to leave me. I . . . It was my fault you got hurt. I can't say I'm sorry enough."
England stayed there, listening to Alfred's crying. Finally, he was able to unglue his feet and walk towards the door. "Excuse me for a moment."
When the door shut behind the nation, everyone found their way to move again. Italy rushed over to Alfred, hugging him. "It's okay! It's okay! You're okay!"
Alfred held onto to Italy, holding him for support as tears and cries burst forward. France snuck out to see England. China shuffled into the kitchen with his wok he had brought along. Japan put his camera away and shuffled to the bags. Sweden came up to Canada, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Let him cry. He needs to get this out."
Canada frowned, but followed Sweden to help Japan with the bags.
Prussia grimaced. He knew it was good that Alfred was starting to remember pieces of his past. But would that end up tearing the boy apart?
/
France walked out of the door, taking in the sight of England, who was propped against the car, bent down and seemingly dry heaving.
"What are you, a dog?" he asked, walking up to his former enemy.
"Can it, Frog!"
France leaned against the car beside the other man. He took his cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket. "Want one?"
England's shaking had taken a stick out. France flicked the lighter and lit England's, before doing the same to his own. The two stayed that way for a while.
Only after most of his cigarette was gone, did England speak up. "I'm a terrible father, aren't I?"
"Don't ask me, you big buffoon. Ask your son in there."
"Then I must be."
"Or he just remembered the times where you left him to fight the infamous Bad Touch Trio in Europe and other parts of the world. But something like that would never hurt a man like America."
"You think so."
"Oui. But it would devastate a child."
England slumped to the ground. "What was I supposed to do, back then? If I didn't go back to Britain, then-"
"Then your ass would have been kicked harder. And your throne burnt sooner by the worst of your enemies."
"Thanks," England grumbled.
"Oh your welcome, mon lapin." France put out his cigarette butt, keeping it in his hand rather than trashing it on the ground. "But you have to understand, America has already realized that. Once he gained his freedom from you, he started learning more and more about the world around him. Nowadays, he understands that sacrifices you made for your country."
"Yes. . . "
"But that young man in there. He is still a boy. He does not understand the ways of nations just yet. He is thinking of you as human. Not as a nation."
England stood up, dusting his pants off. "So what should I do?"
"Do what we've been doing. Tred lightly. And if he asks you something, answer honestly. And if he yells at you, take it without yelling back."
"Sure."
"And, England," France leaned into his ear. "Remember he's your first son and that you love him more than anything."
/
Alfred recognized the little toy soldier nearly instantly. The memories of his childhood flooding back to him all at once.
Arthur had loved him.
He had taken care of him.
He had clothed and housed him.
He had taught him how to read and write and garden.
And he had loved Arthur back.
But as time went on, Arthur had become more and more distant.
Alfred, though he had never spoken a word of it to anyone, had known Arthur's mind had started to drift back to England.
That was when Arthur had made his first back.
Alfred had tried to hide his thoughts and worries. He had wanted to be strong.
And when Arthur had come back, Alfred had clung to him. The boy had promised himself he would be a better son to Arthur.
And then Arthur had left again.
And when Arthur had come back, Alfred had clung to him again. The boy had promised himself he would be an even better son to Arthur.
And then Arthur had left again.
And when Arthur had come back, Alfred had clung to him even harder. The boy had promised himself he would be the best son Arthur could ever have.
And then Arthur had left once again.
And when Arthur had come back again, Alfred could not cling to him as hard as before. The boy had promised himself to not get so close.
He had come to know he could never be a great son to Arthur. He had come to know he could never be good enough. There had been something about him that pushed Arthur away.
But when Arthur had left and come back again, Alfred had become angry. Instead of thinking of him, Arthur had brought back another boy. Alfred had been replaced.
And Alfred had hated the boy.
He had wanted to the boy to disappear.
He had wanted Arthur back.
He had wanted his father back.
But as time had come and gone, Alfred had learned to love that boy as his own brother.
Little Matthew had soon become Mattie to him.
Mattie.
Mattie.
/
"Mattie."
"Ve?" Italy looked down in his lap to see Alfred open his eyes. "Hello, sleepy head~!"
Alfred blinked, looking up at him. "Feliciano?"
"Sì?""Where's Mattie?"
"I think he's upstairs."
Alfred sprang up from the couch, rushing upstairs.
Italy sat where he was until he realized, "he remembered Canada!"
/
Canada was up in one of the many guest rooms, preparing it for himself.
After setting all his clothes in the dresser, he pulled out his favorite stuffed bear from his suitcase. He hugged it, missing Kumajiro, who had been left at home for the meeting.
"Mattie!"
Canada whisked around, tightly holding the bear.
.
Alfred looked at Matthew holding his Kumajiro bear. He remembered the day he had bought that bear for his brother. It had been on one of Matthew's birthdays when the two were spending some time together for once.
Alfred's eyes teared up.
"Alfred?"
"Mattie." Alfred walked up and wrapped his arms around Matthew. "Brother."
Matthew leaned into his hug, tears streaming down his face. He finally felt the warmth he had longed for.
His brother finally remembered him.