AUTHOR's Note:

HIYA! So I might be a little busy starting now! I have exams next week and my hands are full for my main story's reboot thingy! Anyway...I jope you don't mind this one!

WARNING: Serious! America, Non-perverted! France, Deadly(not intentionally)! Canada

I don't own Hetalia if I did...I might've made everything about DenAme, RusCan, NorBela, the Philippines...and I don't know what!

Other Author's Note (GCJakey):

I'm the co author of almost every work my free-loading friend posted (he used my email to make his FF account...wow...) Anyway, I also liked this whole idea that countries have crappy jobs that prevent them from feeling human...most people just assume that looking them up in Wiki or in History books would let them know every aspect of their lives...just in a human version of it! I see them as having double lives per se... you know?

ENJOY PLEASE!

Truth be told, Britain wasn't really the best father/brother figure in the world (It's a very obvious fact). I mean I still care about him and I did cherish every single moment he'd visit. But that was just it, they were visits. He never stayed long.

Did I mention that he was so busy that he kinda forgot to deal with his (FORMER!) 'colony'?.

Really. I didn't know how the hell countries dealt with paperwork, I was just a kid then…maybe that's why I was getting a bit irritated.

As far as colonies go, I was considered pretty lucky, but still it just didn't feel right to wait around for him to change the way things were for the better.

Hence, I declared independence (classic case of teenage rebellion)

Alright, I am starting to ramble, sorry for that.

Francis Bonnefoy, not France, was actually more of a father/brother to Mattie and me than Arthur and Britain would be. Plus, he was kinda like our mom/sister. Whenever the Brit was away, he'd let himself and Mattie in and stay for a week or two.

He saw us as cute things that could be molested but he restrained himself (thankfully), instead his parental side took over. He made us a feast every night and he read us stories and tucked us in at night and made us smile with games…until now he still pampers us the moment he gets an opportunity.

He taught us that if you know that everybody would be happy in the end, you should do it.

Never should we ask for anything in return and when the world hurts you, turn the other cheek. (Kinda ironic coming from a European country)

More importantly…he taught me to do what was needed even if the one benefiting from it in the end will get hurt in the process.

I remember that day, the day I was forced to swallow the lesson whole. I didn't have time to react back then, all I could do was wrapped my small arms around Francis's leg as I quivered in fear.

Mattie was lying down peacefully on the snow; he was obviously deep in a dreamless sleep.

I could feel the tears sting my eye as I looked at my older twin. His white sleeping gown was drenched in crimson fluids. But it didn't stop there…he was lying in a large puddle of blood surrounded a blanket of cold white snow.

To make it more disturbing, it wasn't his.

It was our mom's.

"A-alfred, s-sweetie, come closer…please." My mother's soothing yet strained voice called for me. She couldn't move her tanned body. All she could do was gesture me to come closer. I hesitated; I couldn't look into her deep brown eyes or touch her raven hair. I felt France nudge me, urging me to be a good boy and listen to my mother.

"Y-yes, mom?" I felt my knees instantly freeze as I stepped on the mix of blood and snow around my dying mother.

"I need you to watch out when it takes over, okay?" she paused as she rubbed my red cheeks. "y-you have to read the signs…and stop it from taking over him again." Before I could ask how, she already gave me the answer.

"Do the things that irritate him…don't notice him, hit him…be insensitive. DO NOT TREAT HIM LIKE HE'S YOUR BROTHER." I shook my head; I could never do that to him. Why would I do that if we shared the same womb for months…then the same bed for years…even if we don't live together anymore…he was still my brother.

"It's the only way to see if the seal's growing weak, ALFRED…" she raised her voice only to be halted by her bloody coughs. "please…do it for me." She pulled me in for a small peck on the forehead, I just nodded. She looked up at our French guardian and smiled.

"Take care of my sons, Francis" France nodded and proceeded to pick up my sleeping brother. She gave me one last kiss.

"Goodbye."

I started crying on my mother's dead body as the snow storm picked up. The cold didn't matter as much as the pain, to think that a small child should handle this much.

"Alfred…it's time to go home." I felt a warm hand that urged me to go back to the nice, warm house that was dimly lit with a few candles.

"NO!" I screamed, I wasn't going to leave my mom. I felt the man go down on his knees and hug me.

"She was a very special woman…but she's not here anymore" France pointed out that I was holding on to nothing anymore, her body disappeared. I cried even more as I clawed the French's arm with my tight grip.

"We promised her to protect Mattie from it…and that means…"

"NO!"

"But…"

"NO! I WILL NOT DO THAT TO HIM!" I shouted but quieted down when I felt a single tear drop from above.

"I don't want to do that to him either…but if it means that he'll be alive and well...I will. I know that he will not see our point, but would you let him die?" Francis huddled me in closer as he let out his own pain.

That's a day that didn't have anything to do with my country's history; it's one of those times that reminded us (countries) that we are still human. Not every moment in our lives demanded us to live as the personifications of every single bordered land mass in the world; we could live out snippets of our lives just as regular people…no historians attached. But it does come with its own problems; sometimes more scarring than our pointless conferences, wars, and disputes.

But it makes us feel human.

Apologies for my rambling…

Today, you must know that I could never do that to my brother…I was never the one to listen to my mom either.

I tried my hardest for the first couple centuries, but in the end I couldn't keep it up…I just couldn't.

France understood me and instead took it upon himself to at least make my brother feel forgotten even for just a split second. Even if he tried his best not to cry, he would at times (he was afraid that noticing him would disturb the seal, but not noticing him would take a toll on his sanity)…that's why he begged the whole world to be a part of this, even if they didn't know why.

Thankfully, those red eyes of his and needle teeth are still locked away. But one of this days, it will come out and I hope I am prepared to lock it back in before anything could happen.

It's not fair that it took over him…it's just not. But someday I know that we'd be able to heal him…to finally put an end to this 'prank' we asked the whole world to be a part of.

I'll do anything for my brother…I hope he sees that. I hope even I could see the good in all this.

What's good about all this when you hurt the only (real) family you have left?

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