Matthew was an observant child. He always seemed to notice things others didn't, which probably stemmed from the fact that he was incredibly mature for his age, even for nation standards. He had to learn quickly to adapt to new situations and surroundings, especially since he was constantly being bounced back and forth between two of the greatest powers in the world. One who could care less about him except for the natural riches of his lands, and the other who tried to be a good guardian, but his pride got in the way most of the time. So, really the only thing he could do was watch the world around him silently, always looking for something to entertain him in any way. Always looking for a break in the pattern of the monotony of his life.

And then there was his brother, Matthew's opposite. Alfred was spontaneous, a force to be reckoned with, his mind always reeling with new ideas. Conversations were hard to keep up with him because he constantly switched from topic to topic. He was loud and enthusiastic, rebellious in so many ways and never afraid to speak his mind. And Matthew loved him for that. They were somehow compatible with each other, bringing out the best in each other. He was always the one to coax Matthew out of his shell, to step out of his comfort zone. To protect him and comfort him. Just as he knew Matthew would do the same for him.

So, here he was, once again standing outside the house owned by England instead of his actual home in Quebec. The door was opened, and he was greeted by his brother who immediately flung himself at him. He froze for a moment, surprised by the force of the embrace, before hugging back. After an uncomfortable amount of time, Alfred pulled back giving him his signature smile. But Matthew couldn't help but notice that something was slightly off with it. It was too wide, too forced. He didn't have time to dwell on it though, as he was already being pulled inside by his hand.

England was there waiting for them, arms crossed and face stoic, almost disapproving. Matthew had to stop the grimace on his face from Alfred's sudden bone-crushing grip.

"Ah, Matthew, you made it. I was getting worried that the Frog had forgotten to uphold his end of the bargain. I won fair and square after all."

Matthew fought the urge to roll his eyes. The rivalry between England and France was most irritating and sometimes downright annoying. "Can I go to my room now, please? I'm really tired, it was a long trip."

England pursed his lips but nodded. "Of course, you must be exhausted. Alfred, show Matthew to his room."

"Yes, Arthur," Alfred immediately responded. This took Matthew by surprise. When had his brother become so obedient? Not even a scoff or an eyeroll? "Come on, Mattie, we're gonna have so much fun while you're here!" Matthew smiled and followed him to what he assumed was his assigned room. Alfred began to babble on about how he personally made sure everything was to Matthew's liking. The other boy just nodded, amused at how excited his brother was. As Alfred talked on, his hands flailed around, and the movements caused his sleeve to fall a little, exposing a large spot of discoloration starting at his wrist and disappearing beneath the fabric.

Matthew's eyes widened slightly, and he frowned in concern. "What happened to your arm, Alfred?" Said boy followed his gaze and paled, hastily pulling down his sleeve, chuckling nervously. "Oh, nothing important really. I, um, slipped and hit it on the kitchen table. But enough about that, I should really let you get settled. I'll come get you for dinner." But as he went to leave, Matthew reached towards him to stop him, his fingers brushing his shoulder slightly. Alfred flinched back violently, almost tripping over his feet. His blue eyes moved back and forth fearfully, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Matthew held his hands in front of him, reassuring his brother he meant no harm. "Al, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

Alfred shook his head, regaining his composure. He gave his brother a shaky smile. "No, it's fine! Just been a little jumpy lately that's all, haha. I really should go check on England," he said, walking backwards to the door, not turning back until he got to the opening. Matthew suddenly realized something and called out, "Wait, why aren't we sharing a room like we usually do?"

Alfred gave him a look he couldn't place but made him extremely uneasy.

"It's better this way, trust me."

Dinner was awkward to say the least. It was completely quiet, his brother's usual chatter no longer filling the room. Arthur was of course ignoring him as per usual, instead looking at Alfred in a way that Matthew had didn't quite like. He didn't miss the flinches that came every time Arthur came even remotely close to Alfred, or squeezed his shoulder a little too hard, or the way he leaned over to whisper in Alfred's ear, pulling away with a strange smile. Matthew looked back down at his food, suddenly not hungry. For once, he wasn't envious of the attention Alfred was receiving from their guardian.

He couldn't sleep that night, tossing and turning as his mind unwillingly went through every single thing that went on that day. The thing about being as observant as he was that it was easy to blow things way out of proportion. His door creaked open, and he saw his brother standing in the doorway, shaking and looking like he had been crying. Wordlessly, Matthew lifted his blanket in invitation. After a slight hesitation, Alfred closed the door and locked it. He crawled in next to Matthew, who immediately wrapped his arms around the shaking body. Alfred buried his face in his chest, sobs making his shoulders heave.

Matthew said nothing, instead just running his fingers through his brother's hair and holding him as close as he could. They never talked about that night again, Alfred never came into his room after that, and any suspicious activity was ignored subconsciously. Soon Matthew was back under France's control and taken away from his brother.

1776

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Alfred looked up from cleaning his gun, eyes narrowed. "What I should have done a long time ago."

Matthew ran his shaking hand through his hair, trying his best to keep his anger in check. This was ridiculous! Who did Alfred think he was declaring war on ENGLAND of all people? And he had to drag France into it. He was completely tearing apart everything Matthew was trying to hold together.

"God, Alfred, how stupid can you be! Do you have any idea what you're doing? Your little rebellious streak was cute when we were younger, but it's seriously gone too far! You're a grown ass adult, act like one."

Faster than Matthew had time to react, Alfred was in his face, a sneer on his face. "Don't you DARE judge me, Matthew. You have absolutely no clue what I went through, what that-that MONSTER did to me! You don't get to go acting all high and mighty with me asshole," he spat. Up close Matthew was able to see how horrible his brother looked. Dark rings below his eyes making his already dull eyes darker, his bottom lip stained red and bloody from being chewed on, and his hands shaking uncontrollably. This was a far cry from the Alfred he once knew.

Matthew looked away, unable to face this horrific version of his little brother. "You're delusional, Alfred. He loves you; you know. And you're breaking his heart.

He might as well have hit Alfred with the way he flinched back. He sagged against the wall, like he was unable to support himself any longer, shaking and pale. "Get out, Matthew."

"You can't just tell me-"

"GET OUT!"

Matthew stumbled out, blinking back tears that threatened to fall. Alfred was going to pay for breaking England's heart. And his. New France will align themselves with the British Empire against the American revolutionaries.

Present

"This is gonna be great, Mattie! It's been forever since we hung out."

Matthew hummed in agreement, following his brother into his house. Alfred had been talking nonstop the whole way there about how he had so many awesome things planned for just the two of them. The other man just nodded along with Alfred's words, but he too was happy to hang out with him again. It was nice seeing him so happy, so unlike the shell of his brother he found in the bathroom only months ago. Matthew shook his head, clearing the thoughts away. He wouldn't think of that. He was here to have fun with Alfred.

"And then he yelled at me for tossing all his liquor! It's already insulting enough going to visit and having him shit-faced drunk, but then he goes and gets mad at me for trying to help! He's going to end up killing himself with all that alcohol."

Matthew sighed. 'Here we go again,' he thought. Supposedly Alfred had gone to visit Arthur to take care of some business between their countries and Arthur was wasted when he arrived. So, of course the two got into a fight, and Alfred left in a fit of rage.

"He's a grown-up, Alfie, he can take care of himself. You shouldn't worry so much."

"I'm not-I'm not worried about HIM. I just don't like it when he's drunk," Alfred muttered, putting his face in his hands. "I tell myself I don't care, yet I go back time and time again. It's like he has this hold on me, and he'll never let go. Bastard even told me I was the worst thing that ever happened to me. Fuck. okay, I'll make sure I kill myself properly next time. At least that way I won't have to keep looking over my shoulder all the damn time," he mused.

Matthew's eyes widened in horror. He did not just hear that. He lunged forward and grabbed Alfred's shoulders harshly, shaking him slightly. Alfred's eyebrows rose in surprise at the display of aggression from the usually passive nation.

"Don't you EVER say that again, do you understand?! I don't understand what this thing is that is going on between you and Arthur, but it must stop now. I can't do it again, Alfred. I can't-I can't find you like that again, I can't-"

"He took the locks off the bedroom doors," Alfred said slightly unfocused, obviously not paying attention to anything Matthew was saying.

"...What?"

"I went to lock the door and they weren't there anymore. He unscrewed the handles so I couldn't lock it."

Matthew's hands fell from his shoulders. Is that all he had to say for himself? Here he was giving Matthew a fucking anxiety attack, and the only thing he was focused on was some stupid lock. Matthew pulled away, completely furious. "Are you seriously kidding me right now? Do you think this is a joke? Well, it's not funny," he snapped. Alfred suddenly looked equally angry.

"It's not a joke when you're in the same house as your rapist and can't even lock the fucking doors!"

A suffocating silence engulfed the room. Matthew stayed frozen in place, not processing what was just said. Alfred paled realizing his mistake. "I didn't mean that. I wasn't thinking straight, please just forget I said anything." He was practically begging for Matthew to leave it alone. No. Not this time. Matthew had always respected his brother's privacy, but not for this. Not now. He had to confront it even though he didn't want to know the answer. An answer he thinks he already knew. A secret he tried to block out of his mind.

"Alfred," he slowly, not trusting his voice, "Did Arthur-did he touch you?" The words were detached from him, like they weren't even real. Until Alfred made them real. He hoped to God he was mistaken; he didn't think he would be able to handle it if it was true. Things like this didn't happen to his brother. His kind, sweet, caring brother. His brother who came to him in the middle of the night when they were children. His brother who seemed to lose that sparkling light in his eyes little by little. His brother who had slit his wrists, his blood turning the pristine bathroom floor red. His brother who watched him laugh and chat with his rapist. (He wanted to laugh at the irony of that). His brother who was being abused right under his nose.

No, no, no, no, NO

"I'm sorry."

He looked up as his brother, who looked so utterly broken at the moment, like the slightest touch would be the one to finally send him spiraling, apologized. Why? Why was he apologizing to Matthew. Matthew, who was ever so observant yet still missed the signs, talking himself into thinking he had imagined it. It was suddenly too hot in the room, matching the boiling rage that began to build up in him. He wanted to throw up, throw something, destroy whatever he could get his hands on, anything other than just sitting there.

A small sob broke him out of his trance and saw Alfred looking fearfully at Matthew who had a white-knuckled grip on the cushion of the couch. And dammit all if it didn't break his heart even more than he thought possible. "I'm sorry, Mattie. Shit, you probably think I'm so disgusting right now. Because I am. Oh God, no one was supposed to know. Oh God, oh God..." Alfred gripped his hair tightly, eyes closed shut, and began rocking back and forth. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. It's my fault, It's all my fault."

Matthew pulled him to himself, holding him tightly like he did all those years ago, in a bruising grip, afraid if he let go Alfred would disappear. He buried his face in Alfred's hair, ignoring the tears that threatened to fall. He couldn't break down; his brother needed him to be strong no matter how much he wanted to scream and cry like a little child.

"Shh, please, Alfie, please don't say that" he said, basically begging. "This isn't your fault, nothing that happened to you was your fault. You know that, right? Right, Alfie? Please tell me you know that. Please."

Alfred just clung tighter to him, each breath nothing more than a sob, a cry that went unnoticed for too long. A secret that only in death he could escape.

"I'm here now. Your big brother's here and he's not leaving. I love you so, so much, Alfred, you can't even imagine how much. Never forget that. I didn't know-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Matthew was never one to let his emotions get the better of him, but he welcomed the anger he felt, let it fester as he held on to the only person who ever acknowledged him, maybe even the only person who ever loved him. He wanted to make Arthur regret the day he ever laid eyes on Alfred. Oh, how Matthew wished he was there the first time he laid his hands on his little brother. But Alfred needed him now, so all he could do was fantasize.

Arthur had come to expect many things in his life; the good, the bad, and the in between. He was once a world power, and it was only logical that he should always be wary, always know what to expect. Except that he had never expected to be tasting the sharp tang of blood in his mouth after being hit. Matthew, who had always been such an obedient colony, had the nerve to come into his home and attack him? But what unnerved him the most was that he had never seen the boy in such a way. He had never seen someone look at him with so much hatred in all his years. And, oh, how it made his blood boil, that this child he had raised had the gall to treat him in such a way.

"Why I never-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Arthur immediately closed his mouth, shrinking against the wall as Matthew cornered him, completely seething. "You fucking asshole, you raped my brother!" Matthew pushed him up against the wall, their noses almost touching. "He tried to kill himself you know, and I was the one who found him there. And do you know why he did it?" The Canadian laughed, almost crazed. "Of course, you don't, you're the reason he hates himself. All because you couldn't keep your fucking disgusting hands to yourself. How many times, England, how many times did you hurt my brother?"

So that's what this was all about? The older man sneered. Of course, the little twat wouldn't keep his mouth shut. He gave him everything, loved him and his disgusting little body, and this is how he repays him? Ungrateful little brat.

"Do you actually believe everything that comes out of that whore's mouth? He was in love with ME, I was only giving him what he wanted. Face it, Matthew, we both know I'm the only one that truly cares about him, he's just making a big deal to play the victim."

With a growl, Matthew pushed England away, unable to touch him a second longer. This man who had so deeply hurt his Alfred had the audacity to blame his brother for everything that happened.

"Fuck you, England! I swear to God, if I see you touch my brother again, I'll kill you. And don't think I won't."

The words hung in the air between them, an unbreakable vow of a person willing to do anything for the one they loved.