Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

CanIre: Dedication

Patrick watched as Alfred, his best friend since they met each other in university, delivered the eulogy. Many people accused Alfred of being insensitive and oblivious, but if they could see him now, they wouldn't say that. Alfred tried his best to smile as he reminisced, but every memory brought on a new wave of tears. But the raw emotion made this eulogy perfect.

Finally, it was time for the funeral procession. Alfred was one of the pallbearers, along with Patrick's brothers. He never thought that one of the first things he would do in the afterlife was to attend his own funeral.

He had a few days to get used to the new way things were. He had also seen how everyone was reacting. His brothers were stoic, but it wasn't as though they were uncaring. His parents were also grieving. But Alfred fell apart, and it didn't look as though he was going to be better anytime soon.

Alfred had told him once that his twin brother had been killed a few years ago, and Alfred blamed himself for the accident that took his twin. His parents also blamed him, and they didn't get along at all anymore. Alfred was popular, but Patrick had been the only one he'd considered to be a true friend. And now, Patrick was gone.

Patrick kept his eye on Alfred during the burial. Alfred was falling apart, even though he tried to hide it. Patrick couldn't let Alfred carry on like that, especially because of him.

He didn't have much to do with his afterlife, so he decided that he would take Alfred up on his offer to move in. Perhaps, with Patrick as his roommate, Alfred would be able to carry on relatively normally.

…

Patrick sighed as he turned the oven off. Alfred had a habit of forgetting the oven on, both when cooking food and afterwards. Patrick idly wondered how many meals he had saved like that. And Alfred wasn't one to remember to turn off the lights when he left a room, or the taps kept dripping (granted, one of the taps was really hard to properly close), or he forgot to take out the trash.

It was a miracle that Alfred got anything done.

When Alfred went to bed, Patrick collapsed on the chair in exhaustion. He hadn't realised that he would still be able to get exhausted like that. How could someone without a physical body even get tired?

He stood up and did his rounds. He checked to make sure that the lights were all off (bathroom light was still on) and the taps weren't dripping (the stubborn tap was). He also went to check that the apartment door was locked, since Alfred had a tendency to forget that as well.

When he arrived at the door, he saw Alfred locking the door. Patrick sighed in relief, before Alfred turned towards him. And Patrick couldn't help but think that there was something very wrong.

First of all, Alfred looked… different. His hair and eyes didn't look like they normally did. He also looked a little… younger? And second, Alfred was looking directly at him, and not through him.

The two of them continued to stare at each other for a long moment before Patrick decided to say something.

"You… you're not Alfred, are you?" Patrick asked.

"No," the other said. "You're Patrick, right? Alfred's friend. You… you can see me?"

Patrick could only nod. The two stood in silence for a few beats.

"Who… who are you?" Patrick asked.

"I'm Matthew," the other said.

"…You're Alfred's twin brother. The one that died in the accident."

Matthew nodded. He still stared at Patrick, questions on his face. It was a bit unnerving to see that expression on Alfred's face.

"I died a while ago," Patrick said. "My funeral was last week."

Matthew's eyes widened.

"Oh, that explains it," Matthew said. "Alfred was a wreck. It was a long time since I saw him like that. The last time was… when I died. And here I just thought you were staying over for a while. I thought it was strange that you and Al weren't really talking."

"Yeah…" Patrick said. "I kind of figured that Al needed my help here, you know. And I didn't have anything better to do."

"I felt the same way! I thought that things were easier than usual."

"Wait. You're saying that it's worse?"

Matthew nodded, a smile on his face.

"Al isn't very good at taking care of himself," Matthew explained. "I've been looking after him since I died, and without me, I don't even want to know how things are going to be."

"Right," Patrick said. "I thought the shopping list looked strange. It looked like two different sets of handwriting."

"Really? I try to imitate Al's, but… apparently, it wasn't good enough."

"I don't think Al really noticed."

"Maybe."

The two were quiet for a moment, but this silence wasn't awkward. Patrick had started to feel a little lonely. Even though he was with his best friend, his friend couldn't see him. And Matthew had been in this position even longer. Perhaps, when they weren't taking care of Alfred, the two of them could become friends as well.

The prompt is: 'After A dies, they decide to dedicate their afterlife to helping their best friend C. They haunt C's apartment and clean up after them, turn off ovens before the food burns, take out the trash and write grocery lists when they run out of food. After a while, A notices that another ghost is doing the same thing. B, C's sibling who died a few years prior, is also taking care of C. They bond over their mutual love for C and how much babying C needs.'