11/14/2011

Author's Notes:

So…

First time writing Fanficiton? Ever? YES!

First time writing about Hetalia? YES!

Want readers to review regardless if they liked the story or not? YES!

Own Hetalia? NO! XD haha no, seriously, I do not own Hetalia or any of its wonderful characters (Alfred Jones/USA/ America, Arthur Kirkland/UK/ England, Matthew Jones/Williams/Canada, Katyusha Braginski/Ukraine) even though I would like to. On a side note, I do not own Dean Koontz or any of his books, story plots or characters either. Only the plot and idea for this story alone is mine. That's all.

Summary: AU brotherly relationship- Alfred is sick and Arthur stays home to take care of him. While making soup, Arthur gets a rare look into Alfred's mind. Alfred and Matthew are 15, Arthur is 27. Story better than summary, I swear!

-o0o-

When Arthur first arrived home, he was sure that something was terribly wrong. The house was eerily quiet where normally it would have been filled with the sounds of loud, clumsy footsteps, or the joyful obnoxious laughter that would echo throughout the many rooms. Instead it was silent, quiet in a way that Arthur would have never thought possible while living with two teenage boys.

"Alfred?" Arthur called out. His voice drifted though the bright cheery living room and spread through the Victorian styled home but received no answering cry.

Arthur felt panic build up in his stomach as he continued to hear no movements in the house. He quickly took off his scarf, threw it on the couch and started to search the house's many rooms as fast as he could without breaking into a sprint. He had thought- he was sure that he had left Alfred at home while Arthur went to go pick up Mathew from school. And granted, Alfred was sick, but he couldn't be sick enough to be completely silent. Silent was something Alfred just didn't- couldn't Arthur was sure- do, regardless if he had a small fever or not. He was probably just sleeping. Yes, that was it. Just sleeping and that was why the boy was so quiet. That is, unless something had happened to him. What if he was kidnapped? Or got hurt while sleepwalking? Or maybe-

"Arthur?"

Arthur halted abruptly when the cause of his worry said his name. Peering into the kitchen, Arthur saw Alfred sitting sideways in one of the chairs placed at the wooden table, his back facing the window and his feet lying on the adjacent chair, surrounded by a thick quilt with his hands in his lap. Alfred stared at Arthur curiously, and Arthur noted with some relief that the sick like haze that had been in Alfred's eyes previously was now gone. Instead Alfred's gaze was clear and relaxed, healthy again after a day of rest.

"Alfred," Arthur sighed with relief and moved towards the teenager. "Don't scare me like that, I thought you had gotten hurt or worse." He reached forward and placed a hand on Alfred's forehead. "Thank the Queen your fever's gone down." He muttered before removing his hand to ruffle Alfred's gold locks of hair. Alfred made a face and leaned away from Arthur.

"Of course I'm ok; where else could I have gone? I've been sick the entire day; I don't have the energy to move even if I had wanted to." He puffed out his cheeks, looking somewhat irritated. Arthur smiled gently at the boy as he removed his jacket.

"Well, naturally I was worried, you were being unusually silent," Arthur said simply and left the kitchen to go find his scarf that he had abandoned in his worry for Alfred. As he hung up his outdoor wear in the closet hall, he heard the old chairs creek as Alfred shifted slightly in the other room.

"Yea, well, I was concentrating on something." Alfred mumbled as Arthur re-entered the kitchen and dropped his keys into a small decorative teacup that Alfred and Mathew had made for him a while ago. "Anyways, where's Mattie?" Alfred asked, his face brightening up noticeably. "I haven't seen him all day! Dude, do ya know how weird it is to go a whole day without seeing your twin brother once? It's just plain weird, man."

Arthur froze in mid reach opening up a cabinet, his face going pale.

"Oh god," He whispered. Alfred sat up a little straighter in his chair, alarm starting to appear in his expression.

"What?" Alfred asked his voice somewhat higher than before. "Arthur, what's wrong?"

"I think I left him at the school!" Arthur cried, spinning around to look at Alfred with wide eyes. "I don't remember him coming in the house with me; I'm a terrible guardian! How could I leave him there!"

"No way, you didn't." Alfred gaped at Arthur. "How did you forget him? Isn't that the reason why you left the house in the first place?"

"I know, I know! I don't know how either! Drat, Alfred, I'll be home soon, I have to go back to the school-" Arthur scooped up his keys and was on his way to the door when a soft hand firmly gripped his sleeve. Arthur paused, and turned to look into deep blue eyes with a slight indigo shade to them.

"Arthur, I'm right here," said a quiet voice.

"Mattie!" Alfred yelped, causing both Arthur and Matthew to jump. "Dude, when did you get here? Don't creep up on us like that man you scared the livin' daylights outta me!" Matthew frowned and glanced at his twin, annoyance showing through his calm demeanor.

"Mathew, where have you been?" Arthur asked. "Why did you suddenly disappear? I was about to go back to the school you know," he huffed and placed the keys back in the teacup.

"But I was here the entire time-" Matthew started to say before Alfred interrupted him.

"Mattie, give me some brother love!" Alfred held out his arms towards his younger brother. Matthew sighed, but surrendered and gave into Alfred's wish. Alfred clutched Matthew in a bone breaking hug that would have knocked the wind out of anyone had it not been Mathew. Mathew returned the hug gently then moved away to look into Alfred's blue eyes.

"You're looking better," he remarked. Alfred beamed.

"Well duh! I'm the hero! No cold could have kept me down!" He boasted. Arthur chuckled.

"Just be lucky that it was just a cold and not something worse," He opened the cabinet and took out a stainless steel pot, placing it on the countertop beside him.

"Uh, Arthur," Alfred cleared his throat nervously. "What'cha doin'?"

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm making you chicken soup, isn't that the best way to get rid of a cold?" Matthew and Alfred quickly looked at each other with fear in their eyes as Arthur continued to take out various cooking materials, his back to the two younger boys. "And its 'What are you doing' not 'What'cha doin'! It's a miracle you are able to survive in the world today with such atrocious grammar as you have." Arthur turned around and Matthew and Alfred immediately looked away from each other.

"Wow, Arthur, um, that sounds great and all," Matthew started to say nervously as Arthur took out a sharp chopping knife. "But, I have a ton of homework, and I'll probably be staying up all night as it is," Alfred was shooting daggers with his eyes at Matthew behind Arthur's back. "So I'll have to decline, maybe another time!" Mathew darted out of the kitchen, pausing only to grab his polar bear shaped backpack that he had dropped. Arthur watched him go with surprise while Alfred slumped in defeat, throwing his head backwards to look at the ceiling with a grumpy expression.

"By god, that boy can move when he wants to," Arthur said, shaking his head. "Shame he's too busy to enjoy my excellent cooking! Ah well, that just means there is more for us to take pleasure in, Alfred!" Alfred grunted in reply and Arthur happily continued to make the soup.

After a while, Arthur was once again aware of the strange silence that was settling over the house. Not that he minded of course- there was hardly ever any peace and quiet and when there was, it never seemed to last for very long. However it was odd that Alfred had not made any attempts to talk to Arthur yet, regardless of being sick or not.

"You know, I'm surprised," Arthur said with his back to Alfred while mixing the soup with a spoon. "I would have thought that you would have put some music or something while I was gone. You normally hate the silence of an empty house don't you?"

"Yeah, well normally I would have." Alfred answered after a slight pause. "But I got distracted when the doorbell rang and I had to answer it." Arthur dropped his spoon which made a loud clang as it hit the tiled floor. He whirled around and stared at Alfred in shock.

"What."

Alfred at least managed to look sheepish under Arthur's heady glare.

"Uh, well, uh, I know you said not to open the door under any circumstances, but-"

"Yes and why didn't you listen to me?" Arthur started to say angrily.

"But," Alfred continued, interrupting Arthur. "I knew who it was. Do you remember Kat?" Arthur looked at Alfred with a blank expression on his face.

"Who?"

"You know, Kat. Katyusha Braginski? The girl who took care of Mattie and me when we were in the orphanage? Older sister to that Russian guy I really hate?"

"Ah, yes, now I remember. And it's 'Matthew and I' Alfred."

"Yeah, well, anyhow, she was looking through some of the stuff in this closet in the orphanage, and she found this old cardboard box filled with some books in it. On the box it said 'Jones'." Arthur frowned. Jones was Alfred and Matthew's last name. He would had preferred it if they had both switched to his own last name, 'Kirkland', after he had adopted them when they were 8, but to his dismay both of the twins had politely but firmly refused.

"So this box, it belonged to your parents then?" Arthur begrudgingly asked. Alfred nodded eagerly.

"Yea! At least that's what Kat said. So I started to look through the books, and some of them actually looked pretty good." Arthur stopped leaning down to pick up the spoon he had dropped only to gawk at Alfred as the boy looked thoughtfully into the distance. Was this the same Alfred that Arthur had woken up this morning? Or was this some alien creature that was identical to him in every way except personality?

"Did you just say you liked the books? Wait, let me guess. They were comic books weren't they?" Arthur shook his head, grabbed the spoon and stood up.

"Actually, no, they weren't." Alfred admitted.

"Picture books then," Arthur said.

"Nope," Arthur glared at Alfred while the teenager grinned.

"Oh, come off it." Arthur scoffed. "There's no way that they were real books."

"Why not?" Alfred argued. "I can like books, Arthur. Just because I don't like Shakyespear,- "

Arthur slammed the spoon on the countertop and glared at Alfred.

"Shakespeare, Alfred." He hissed. "Shake. Speare. Not Shakyespear! No human in their right mind that would have a name like that!"

"Well, whatever," Alfred said, obviously not caring what Arthur was saying. "That's how I remember to spell his name, ok? Anyway, I was looking through the pile of books, and I realized that most of them were written by this guy called Dean Koontz. And I figured, 'Hey, this guy must be an amazing writer if my parents liked his books so much,' So, I picked up the next book by Koontz that I saw and started to read it." Alfred now had a small paperback book in his hand and held it out to Arthur. Arthur took the book and read at the title. Hideaway, by Dean Koontz, NEW YORK TIMES #1 BESTSELLER! was displayed across the front cover. Arthur saw a dog-ear on one of the pages towards the middle of the book and Arthur opened it to page 200. This is what Alfred was doing when I first walked in, Arthur realized with surprise. That's why he didn't hear me when I first called him. He was too busy reading.

Arthur looked back up at Alfred, who had an excited puppy like look on his face, and handed back the book. Alfred took it with eagerness that Arthur recognized. Feeling his own face go stony, Arthur turned back to the soup and angrily added some ingredients. Who cared if Alfred liked the book anyways? It didn't matter that it had once belonged to the original Jones'…or that Alfred bluntly refused to read any of the books that Arthur recommended. No, he wasn't jealous. Why would he be jealous? Arthur forcibly turned the stove's temperature higher and slammed the cabinet door shut. After all, of course Alfred would want some type of connection with his parents. Why wouldn't he? All orphans wanted that connection; it didn't matter if the parents were dead or alive. And Alfred was no different.

"Hey Arthur," Alfred piped up suddenly.

"What?" Arthur snapped.

"You know, I was thinking, this book kinda reminds me of you." Arthur paused, and turned to look at Alfred who stared back with an honest smile.

"Really." Arthur said after a moment. "How so?"

"Well, there's this girl in the book," said Alfred. "Her name is Regina. And she's an orphan too, just like Mattie and I," Alfred explained and Arthur started slightly when Alfred used correct grammar. "And she's living with this couple who took her in even after she treated them really bad the first time they met, and they like really love her you know? Like a lot. And I can just tell right away, they're gonna be an awesome family." Alfred stared at Arthur with clear sapphire blue eyes. "Just like us, right Arthur? Remember the first time we met? I treated you like dirt the first time I saw you."

"I remember," Arthur managed to say.

"Yea, I thought you were gonna take me away from Mattie. But then you ended up taking us both in even after I was really mean to you." Alfred looked outside at the falling leaves and the cloudy gray sky. "And even now, I'm sick and you stayed home from work today to take care of me. Heck, you're even making me soup." Alfred shook his head and smiled at Arthur who was standing in place frozen.

"I guess what I'm trying to say, what I really want to say, is thank you, Arthur." Alfred smiled again. "I don't know who else would put up with me after all these years, so thank you. I know I don't say it a lot, and I know you deserve more than just those two words, but it's the most I can do right now." Alfred stood up, walked over to Arthur and wrapped his arms around his guardian giving him a hug.

"Thanks, Arthur."

Alfred released Arthur, smiled slightly at the shocked face Arthur was making and ruffled his hair. Then he left the room, leaving the Dean Koontz book behind on the table. Arthur stood there, unable to move from all of the emotions running through him. After a moment, Arthur started to smile and held his hands up to his face to stop himself from dancing around the kitchen in joy. That was the reason he had adopted Alfred and his brother. Because underneath that loud, annoying, obnoxious personality of his, Alfred was a good, kind kid. The kind that deserved a worthwhile home where he and his brother could live with someone who loved them unconditionally. Someone like Arthur.

Arthur turned back to the soup and started to hum softly to himself.

"JUST MAKE SURE NOT TO BURN THE SOUP!" Alfred suddenly yelled from across the house, causing Arthur to drop the spoon once again on the floor. Arthur swore.

"SHUT UP YOU BLOODY FOOL AND GO READ SOME SHAKESPEARE!" Arthur shouted back, turning red from anger.

In the end though, Alfred was just Alfred. And that was something Arthur was going to have to live with.

-o0o-

Author's Notes:

So…good? Bad? Review and tell me!

This was actually written on the 14th and it took a much longer time to write than I would have thought after reading it over. This story was inspired by true events and objects that were around that day.

Right now, I am actually reading the book Hideaway by Dean Koontz and there is an orphaned girl named Regina in the story. I love his books so much, but I want to say right now that if you are scared or grossed out easily, don't read any of his books. Seriously, I get goose bumps from reading some of his stories.

I'm pretty sure that I'm going continue this story but it depends on inspiration. However the chapters would not be in order and it would be updated at completely random intervals.

R&R por favor!

-Camie