A.N.: We do not condone leaving your windows opened.

Chapter 2

-The morning after-

Alfred was dragging a hungover Arthur over his shoulder while searching the streets for his brother.

"Mattie! Mattie where are you? Please be visible again!" he exclaimed loudly, making Arthur groan in pain.

"Must you be so loud, you insufferable prick?" retorted the Englishman, covering his ears. His day hadn't started well. He had been nearly squished to death after his fall in the bar earlier. He wasn't dead because America came back, hours later when the bar was closing, finally deciding to be his hero, and pulled him out of the bar screaming nonsense about cherries. That was four hours ago. They hadn't even stopped for coffee, not even at McDonalds. Alfred was serious about finding his brother. If only he was this serious about me…

"We need to split up," decided the American, seemingly not having heard Arthur. He seemed deep in thought, but Arthur knew that it was only a façade. Alfred didn't think about anything. It was one of his most annoying traits.

Suddenly, Arthur felt his body rising in the air. "Alfred! What are you doing? Put me down!" he screeched.

Once again, Alfred ignored him. Instead he said : "You'll go look for Mattie that way, and I'll look for him this way, okay?"

Arthur opened his mouth to replied that no, it was not okay, when the git threw him in the air like he was nothing more than a rag doll. He closed his eyes, expecting a rough landing, but was surprised to find himself on a bed. On an occupied bed. He was even more surprised when he was brought into a sloppy kiss by the person next to him. He opened his eyes in shock and shut them again at the sight of the other's face.

"You were much better last night. You're not doing anything, what's wrong?" asked a sleepy Canada. His eyes widened when he saw the characteristic eyebrows. "Oh my God, England! I'm so sorry. I thought you were…" He looked around the room in confusion. "Where...?"

"Ha ha! The hero's here!" shouted Alfred as he jumped through the opened window. Arthur had never been so confused.

"Francis? Francis?" called Matthew.

"What are you calling Francis for?" stupidly asked England.

"He left right? I TOLD YOU SO! Ha! I was right! Hey, I'm hungry all of a sudden, let's go eat! I'm sure there's a McDonalds not too far away."

"He…left?" Matthew's eyes quickly filled with heavy tears. He felt so used and abandoned. Couldn't he have one person who would be there for him, stick with him? Why did people he cared about always leave?

Arthur had finally caught on. He never expected his old colony to fall for the frog's dirty tricks. But he was more upset that Matthew still cared more about France than him, even after the bastard abandoned him years ago. Maybe I should pay more attention to him. It might also bring me closer to Alfred…

Alfred finally noticed that his brother was sincerely upset and that France's actions had hurt him…again.

Flashback

"Papa! Papa! Ne m'abandonne pas!" Desperately screamed a much younger Matthew. He muttered his next words, almost like a plea. "S'il-te-plait."

But France remained indifferent as he turned around and walked away, leaving the crying child in his enemy's arms.

End of flashback

Alfred was suddenly filled with rage. How dare this dude defile his bro that way? Stupid French pervert! He'll destroy him!

"I will destroy him! I'll nuke him till there isn't anything left! We don't need France anyway!"

"Alfred, you can't just nuke people you don't like…You have to use magic! It'll make him suffer even more!" intervened Arthur, who wasn't as hungover as before.

"Guys…don't bother." Matthew sounded so broken that Alfred's heart started to cry manly tears of manliness.

"Okay, we won't do anything. Why don't you take a shower for now though? You reek of sex," suggested the Englishman. Matthew silently obeyed, too troubled to question him.

As soon as the water started running, Alfred turned to his secret crush and roughly whispered: "You weren't serious when you said we wouldn't do anything, right?"

"Of course not."

"What do we do? We totally need to be Mattie's heroes and stuff."

"Yes, the frog needs to learn that he can't just play around with people's feelings," replied Arthur, already having an idea in mind. "And what better way to make him understand this than to make him go through it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Alfred, slightly distracted by a fly lurking around in the room.

"Well, I know this spell that will make him fall in love with the person of our choice. Preferably someone who will never reciprocate his love."

"Like who? Germany?" asked Alfred, laughing.

"No, they have too much history… Things would get complicated. And dangerous. I was thinking more about a certain angry Italian."

"When is Feliciano ever angry?"

"I'm talking about his brother, you idiot."

"Oh. So what do we have to do?"

"Well I can work on the spell, and you can just watch. With your eyes this time, not your hands. And please," he added in a serious voice, "don't yell."

In the shower of the hotel room, Matthew had a lot of time to reflect upon the past events. Once again, he had dared to open his heart a little…only to see it crushed to pieces by the man he trusted. He couldn't deal with his feelings anymore.

Without thinking about it, he turned the water temperature to boiling. Anything to lessen the pain in his heart.

I will never let my feelings overcome me ever again, he decided.

It was then that Kumajiro made his presence known. He was in the shower too and didn't enjoy the hot water as much as his master seemed to. "Who?" he uttered, sensing a change in his caretaker's mood.

"Canada…without feelings."

The new Canada got out of the shower, slowly drying himself up and realized he had left his clothes in a pile beside the bed. Fortunately there was an unused bathrobe in the room. That's when he heard a dramatic "Mambo Italiano!" from the other side of the door, followed by a crashing sound. He rushed out of the bathroom, only to be greeted by a strange sight.

"Hi Russia."

"Hello Matvey."

Yes, as you have guessed, Russia had been summoned by the spell and was now occupying the bed, beside Arthur and a confused Alfred.

The spell had been a complete failure…or had it?

France was once again in a pet shop with Spain and Prussia. After his hasty departure that morning – the thought of the event brought him painful guilt – he had run into them and had decided to tag along in order to forget his own crushing solitude.

Surprisingly, Romano was already at the pet shop, not watching the turtles. Spain beamed at him and showed the turtle he had baptized Romano. He then made the mistake of showing him the one he had named Feliciano. Turtle Feliciano was cuter than turtle Romano.

The Italian boy silently raged against his…whatever this guy was to him.

But France took no notice of this as he was reminiscing about his sudden decision of leaving Mathieu earlier that morning. It's not that he didn't love the boy, on the contrary, it's just that…Mathieu deserved so much more than a man of his lifestyle, a man who, after so many years, didn't really believe in formal relationships. He knew that he could never give Mathieu what he wanted, a stable and long-lasting relationship. France could not commit in that way. Mathieu was too important. And Romano's legs looked so delicious right now.