Lovino was still weak from blood loss so Matthew and Feliciano helped him to his feet and, after a few attempts, succeeded in getting him into a standing position. Matthew left the Italians in the living room and went to the garage to find some sort of weapons to use against Alfred. When he returned he had a large piece of lumber, which he tossed to Feliciano, and an old hockey stick.

"Did you have anything planned, Matthew?" Feliciano whispered.

Matthew considered for a moment before shaking his head, "I didn't have anything specific. I was just assuming we could go in and knock him unconscious. I have a few ideas after that point."

Feliciano rolled his eyes. "All North Americans are the same. Just charge in and make it up as they go along," he said, ducking as Matthew to a swing at him.

Lovino pulled a switchblade from his pocket and flipped it open.

"We could 'knock him out' permanently and not have to deal with him anymore," Lovino suggested darkly. Feliciano seemed to like this idea but Matthew vehemently disagreed.

"We need him to be alive to get the most out of our revenge, trust me," Matthew said.

"Fine," Feliciano huffed, "You should stay behind anyway, Lovino. You're still too weak to fight him." Feliciano grabbed Lovino's switchblade and stuffed it in his pocket before Lovino began rambling in Italian angrily. After Lovino had calmed down and started pouting on the couch, Matthew briefed Feliciano on the strategy. He crept silently to the opposite entrance to the kitchen while Matthew moved to the main entrance. Matthew peered peered in the open doorway and saw Alfred still facing the stove, with a slowly growing pile of hamburger patties on a plate beside him. Matthew made eye contact with Feliciano and signaled for him to wait until after he moved in to make his attack.

Lovino, after sneaking up behind Feliciano, interpreted the 'stop' signal as 'charge in screaming' which he did, grabbing the plank of wood from Feliciano and flailing it wildly. Matthew flinched, waiting for the sickening thud that never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Alfred had whipped around in a fraction of a second and grabbed Lovino's weapon mid-swing. There was a dangerous glint in his eye before he smirked and tossed the piece of wood across the kitchen, with Lovino still attached.

"Shit," Matthew whispered to himself, "There goes the element of surprise."

The attack on his family sent Feliciano into a rage. He grabbed a picture frame off the wall and flung it at Alfred like a shuriken, doing the same thing with other decorations while charging at Alfred. Alfred blocked all the attacks effortlessly and grabbed the hot skillet he had been cooking in. Matthew saw Lovino's switchblade glinting in Feliciano's hand and knew it was time for him to step in. Feliciano stopped his charge to size up Alfred and the two began to circle each other like wolves. As soon as Alfred's back was to him, Matthew slipped into the kitchen, aiming a swing at the back of Alfred's head. Alfred heard the incoming assailant, dropped to the floor, swept Feliciano's legs from under him, and used the handle of the frying pan to jerk the hockey stick out of Matthew's hands. He lunged towards Matthew, frying pan raised for attack, but jerked to a stop when he realized who his attacker had been.

"M-Mattie? Hehe, what are ya doing, bro?" Alfred asked.

Matthew, upon losing his weapon, assumed a defensive stance with his arms raised to shield him from Alfred's attack. He didn't relax his stance even as the frying pan slipped out of Alfred's hands and clattered to the floor.

"I'm getting even for over a century of your ignorance. You think you can be the asshole of the world forever with no consequences? Fortunately for you, all the negative consequences of your actions turned into my problem first. Unfortunately, all that frustration my country felt built up and turned to into riots. By the way, how did you not notice a new dictator setting up a Communist government just north of your border?" By this point Matthew's voice had raised and he was standing inches from Alfred's face. Alfred could do no more than stare in shock at Matthew's outburst, and even took a step back from him.

Matthew was relieved to finally give Alfred a piece of his mind, but his reaction was not what he was expecting. He was hoping for Alfred to panic and rage and attack him. That's what Matthew had been prepared for. Standing in front of him was not the 'asshole of the world,' but a broken Alfred, who had the memory of another family member attacking him painfully brought up. While the sight would have wrenched Matthew's heart normally, now it just pissed him off. He huffed and marched towards Alfred getting in his face again.

"What are you going to do, America? There's an evil Commie standing in your house and you're going to let him walk away?" Matthew shoved Alfred backwards, causing him to trip and fall over Feliciano who was trying to scuttle over to an unconscious Lovino. Alfred calmly stood up, looking over Matthew, nothing the changes in his appearance caused by the new regime in his country that he hadn't originally seen. He was much thinner and slightly ragged looking, but stronger. Like he had been through months of rigorous exercise without proper nutrition, which he had. He was much more pale and his eyes had a dead, humorless glint in them. Alfred's somber attitude only infuriated the Canadian who continued to antagonize Alfred.

"Come on Commie-hater. Fight me! Show me why your twisted democracy is the only way to run a country. Fight me damnit!' Matthew screamed, advancing on Alfred and shoving him backwards to provoke his fighting instinct. The only reaction he received was a hurt look and a quiet whisper of, "What happened to you, Mattie?"

Matthew practically felt his blood boil. He came here to fight America, and here he was being weak and sentimental. Matthew saw red as his hands clenched into fists and he swung at Alfred's face. Sharp pain shot through Alfred's jaw from, what he originally thought was shock, but when he tasted blood he realized Matthew had actually hurt him. Last time Matthew had hit him, it had barely phased Alfred. He stumbled back a few paces and looked back towards Matthew, who was breathing heavily and shaking with anger. Alfred no longer saw his soft-spoken, passive aggressive baby brother, but a violent and potentially dangerous Communist neighbor who had attacked him. Switching into "ass-kickin' mode", as he called it, he launched himself at Matthew, pinning him to the floor. Matthew jerked his legs between him and Alfred and kicked Alfred off of him. While Matthew scrambled to his feet, Alfred jumped up and charged at Matthew again, catching him in the stomach and barreling through the glass door that led to Alfred's deck. Their momentum carried them across the deck and they crashed through the safety railing. Though the fall was rather short, the pair was still winded by the impact with the ground. Alfred had instinctually flung out his arms to try to catch himself and now was pretty sure his wrists were broken, or at least sprained. Matthew jumped up and was on guard in a matter of seconds, though he was still wheezing and trying to catch his breath. Alfred rolled over onto his back ignoring the Canadian. They were both silent for a minute until they had caught their breath.

"What the hell, Mattie?" Alfred wheezed,"I'm your brother, why would you attack me?" He pushed himself up on his elbows to glare at Matthew who still had not relaxed his defensive stance.

"You're no brother to me. What kind of brother forgets the existence of the other brother and only acknowledges him when he wants something?" Matthew screamed.

"Matthew, catch!" Feliciano screamed from the deck. Matthew looked up in time to see the hockey stick being throw down to him and caught it one-handed. He turned his attention back to Alfred and his hate filled gaze faltered seeing Alfred with tears in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, Mattie. I didn't..." he trailed off as Matthew's grip loosened slightly on the hockey stick. Alfred used this opening to kick Matthew's legs out from under him and scramble to his feet in an attempt to run away. Matthew recovered faster than Alfred and chased after him. Alfred flung himself over his fence and rounded the corner towards the open street where he could get help. Instead, he was met with a plank of wood to the head and crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Feliciano stepped over his body looking bored and waited to Matthew to catch up. Matthew skidded to a stop and paused to catch his breath.

Feliciano prodded Alfred with his foot and said, "You really should get people to do this kind of thing for you." Matthew only shot him a quick glare as he rolled Alfred onto his back.

"You didn't kill him, right?" he asked. Feliciano shook his head. "Good. We probably should get him inside before he wakes up."

Matthew looped his arms under Alfred's and waited for Feliciano to grab his feet. When he didn't Matthew looked around to find the mafiosi crouched beside a bush, playing with a kitten and whispering to it in Italian. Matthew cleared his throat loudly and jerked his head towards Alfred's feet hoping Feliciano would get the message.

"What? I made a new friend," Feliciano reasoned, now stroking the kitten, "Friends are good when you're in my business."

"It's important when your friends are hit-men, not cats. Now help me before he wakes up," Matthew hissed.

Feliciano rolled his eyes and grabbed Alfred's legs. "Sorry, I didn't know you were the Mafia expert," Feliciano replied sarcastically.

"Well, I've managed to eradicate all forms of organized crime from my country. Something you have obviously failed to do," Matthew retorted.

"Hm. We'll have to fix that."

"We'll talk later. Let's just get inside before Alfred's neighbors get nosy."

The pair dragged Alfred into the trashed house and hid him in a closet, gagged and bound, until nightfall. When it was late enough, they threw him into the trunk of Feliciano's car and helped a still-delirious Lovino into the back seat and drove off.

"Phase 1 complete," Matthew mumbled.

The two Italians responded in unison, "Can we get some pasta now?"

Some things never change, Matthew thought.

Author's Note: I'm so so so so sorry I haven't updated this in ages. No excuses, just being lazy and having writer's block. I'll try to stop being awful soon .