AN: Alrighty!

Hey everybody, I'm finally back!

I know I've taken my time in getting around to finding my writing streak again, lord knows I've come back to look at the stories I've put up and wished I had the inspiration to put up a new chapter. Sadly, life likes to be a troll and jump out from nowhere screaming 'BANANAS!'

But, eh, that's life. Crazy bastard..

Anyways~

I intend to update my other stories asap for all you guys and your angst fetishes. I'll most likely start with Life After You as it's only got one more Chapter left to it and it carries the biggest load of emotional baggage for me. After that, just tell me what one you'd like updated next and I'll get right on the one with the most wants for you peeps.

In the mean time, here's the beginning of a story I've been intending to put up for a while now, haha;; If you don't mind the spoilers, visit my deviantArt page Cameridan-Hero and check out the art.

Other than that.

Enjoy~

Chapter One.

Canada sat in his usual spot by America's side at the front of the conference room table - how he was never sat on up there in the light of attention, he really couldn't tell you, but it was most likely because of the fact that no one else other than Arthur, who was sat at the American's other side, could really put up with his energetic twin for such a torturously long period of time. That or they just didn't want to stand the risk of ruining their ear drums like the first two men seemed to be so willing to do.

That was more than likely it.

Alfred was annoying.

And England and Canada also tended to be the victims of one or two smacks to the head/face during a meeting. Since America seemed to be rather fond of those wide hand movements when explaining something.

Yet, there Matthew sat, so devoutly by the mans side. The idea of moving to sit further away never even crossing his mind as he watched his twin go on and on about his idea of saving the earth by bringing burgers into space - the one time he had moved, he ended up being sat on by Russia, so that was also a good incentive to never do it again - Patiently, he sat there. Patiently, he watched. Patiently, he listened. Yet still, this time something seemed off with the bear holding individual. The smile that was ghosted over the blonds pale lips wasn't it's usually soft and caring self, but noticeably fake and plain while his normally bright and attentive stare was clouded and dark as he watched his brothers flamboyant personality command the attention of everyone else currently present in the meeting. Matthew was still a person included in that group, but, if he could be seen at the moment, there would be a good few shocked faces on how disinterested he seemed to be today. He the one country in the entire world - besides possibly Germany - who was always such an intent listener, did not look like he wanted to listen to the one person in the world that he seemed to never really want to ignore.

Blasphemy.

Not that it was important. It was Canada for crying out loud! When did his feelings of a subject ever start to matter?

Never.

Obviously.

So, we'll just move on.

It was like any other monthly meeting that took place throughout the year. Countries were gathered into a large room against their will and forced to converse with each other as if they weren't secretly wishing that the other personification would suffer some natural disaster or another, or that they would at least find someone else to bother than themselves. They were all as equally loud and prideful as the other and deaf to anything that they didn't want to hear, yet they would preach their own view like it was the only right one in the world. Stubborn as mules - but when were they not?

For Canada though, these petty little observations he'd understood years ago were his very last concern, because something was different today. As he watched over all of the other countries, with that same disinterest that was so out of place on his usually content face, there was a certain look of expectation that was neither hopeful nor bitter even though both feelings ran deep within the man whom sat so very patiently by his twins side.

Waiting.

"... And that's why I need you guys to help finance this grand idea of mine!" America finished, bright grin on his face as he looked over all of the other countries before him, as if expecting them all to praise his unquestionable genus.

The sad part is that he probably did.

".. Honestly America, I swear you get more daft every time you open your mouth! That was your worst idea yet! In space? Honestly? In space?" England, always the first to shoot that boyish smile off of Alfred's face - and deadly aim did he have, for he always succeeded - gave his former colony a look of complete and utter disappointment. His hand made the odd motion as if he could find the words needed to label such stupidity in the air around him, though he knew there was none that came to Alfred's level of idiot, so he simply pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed most likely wondering once again where exactly he had gone so very wrong.

"I think I actually agree with sourcils for once, l'Amerique. That plan is horrid! Non, I will have nothing to do with it!" Came France next, his nose pointed snobbishly up in the air away from the American as if even the sent in Alfred's direction was displeasing to him.

"When have Amerika and his ideas ever been useful? I do not understand why we bother listening to him." Was Russia's casual response next, a cheery smile on his face despite his words.

"It was a pretty stupid idea..." No one heard it - obviously - but, for some reason the finality of Canada's shockingly negative words were like the final blow for America's mood to completely go down hill - or it seemed that way, at least. Since we all know that last response went completely unheard.

The American opened his mouth for a moment, closed it, opened it again, closed it once more and flopped down defeatedly into his seat. Slouched over and arms crossed tightly across his chest in a way that made England's brow twitch violently with the urge to correct the mans posture. Alfred, obviously not paying any attention to the Brits distress, puffed out his cheeks and mumbled darkly under his breath "I didn't think my idea was stupid.."

England rolled his eyes and looked back to the meeting to save at least some of his sanity, but Canada didn't follow suit of his former father nation. Instead, he stared at his brother with such intensity that it was a mystery how the American didn't feel the holes being burnt into the side of his face.

"... Did...?" A spark of hope seemed to glint in the Canadians violet hues as he lent in just a bit closer to his twin, examining him like he expected to find the cure to cancer somewhere on his 'pouty face'. "... Alfred."

Said American sighed and propped an elbow on one of his armrests, plopping his face into his palm and looked out boredly over the rest of the room. Not once did he bother to acknowledge that his name had been said less than two feet away from his ear, for once as clear as day. Not once did he happen to pick up the distressed features of his Northern counterpart, searching, hoping, waiting.

"... A-Alfred..."

Blue hues stayed trained on the rest of the nations, not once flickering to the side.

"God damnit Al..." Matthew was no longer looking at the American he now faced fully in his own chair, instead his head was downcast, his body slightly bent over a worried mewling Kumajiro, trembling as he tried to hold his tears back just a moment longer. Even if no one would see him cry, he refused to fall that far.

He refused to acknowledge he was already crying. "You promised..."

That was it. The last straw. He just couldn't take this any longer.

Damn all the reasons it was wrong. Damn all the terrible consequences. It was just so damn frustrating to have to stand there and pretend like he wasn't trying to cry from the sheer want that was so dutifully eating at his insides. He simply ached, like a string had tied itself to his heart and throat and was trying to pull him inside out from there one sadistic little tug at a time. It was all too much, every god damned bit of it and he refused to stand there a moment longer and suffer through such undeserved torment!

But what could he possibly do? If he left, he knew it would just be to let his tears fall - hide away and alone as he tried desperately to muffle his pathetic little sobs that weren't likely to be heard even if he had tried to make them so. This was all so.. Wrong. Why did this have to happen to him? Had he done some terrible, unthinkable deed in a past life? In his current one? Out of all the good ones he had, there was just this one single bad thing he had done that justified causing all of this pain? Why was he so alone in this? Why was he being made to choose when both of his options were so very unfavourable to him? Because, he knew, he would lose either way. Hadn't he always?

But still, here he was, biting at his lip like it was some delicious little candy he needed to eat up and simply staring at the very cause of all of his problems, trying to look like he wasn't just about to cry even as he was laughing, genuinely laughing - genuinely smiling. He was being given all the freedom to touch, to claim and yet, he couldn't touch in the way he so desperately wished for - he couldn't claim the things he wanted most. A simple gesture that, if placed right, could mean nothing - could mean everything.

Oh how Matthew wished to kiss him.

Just grab him by that brightly coloured tie and press their lips together like it was done in all those silly, sappy movies. The music would play like it was shocked to see such a simple action hold such beauty and power and meaning and then it would lull.. Into an almost whisper as they parted - oh so slowly - because it was just so very right that you could do no more than be in complete awe of it... Such a simple movement, so simple, in fact, that his fingers twitched at the mere thought of it and he had to bury those traitorous little things into the soft leather they were resting on so as not to give them free rein of the situation. Warmed violets slipped away from those beautiful blues to stare at a smile that could kill, and kill it did for the petit Canadian wasn't really sure he could feel his heart beating like a freight train anymore. In fact, he was pretty sure it wasn't beating at all because here he was, pressed close against a warm, taught chest, wrapped snugly in between two big strong arms, being watched - being noticed - by two bright blue eyes that put the vast beauty of the Amarillo skies to shame and staring at pale lips that looked so smooth it was going to bring a tear to his eye.

"Matt..?"

Oh damn, it really did bring a tear to his eye.

Well fuck.

Looking back up and damning himself in every way he knew how for doing so, Matthew pulled in a shaky breath as he was met once again with that awe striking blue, the concern in them was so vivid that he almost wanted to laugh. Would they still be so concerned if he were to let his thoughts be known? 'No.' The Canadian answered to himself 'They would be distraught, sickened, angry.. Disappointed...'

The light touch of a warm, callous thumb brushing across the corner of his eye was enough to push him over the edge. That one simple gesture held so much compassion, so much loving care and yet, it was a kind of care that was completely unwanted by the slimmer man. Matthew didn't wan't his twins brotherly love and concern, he wanted something much more than that deep seeded compassion. He wanted more than the total adoration that filled those sparkling blue depths, he wanted more.

He wanted..

Just one little thing.

The one thing he could never have.

Because asking for it would be too much.

And so instead, he closed his eyes and bowed his head and just let those warm fingers take all of his tears away, dry them up like the sunshine he was, so bright and inviting and it took a little bit of the pain away just to have this small, stolen comfort called Alfred Jones. Matthew let his head fall to a broad shoulder and slumped his full body weight against the other mans front, he knew very well that it wouldn't even phase the American, the proverbial tank that he was. He tightened his hold on that soft leather, spindly little fingers trembling with the effort it took to use just that little bit of strength. He ignored his brothers worried questioning in favour of nuzzling the mans slightly crumpled dress shirt - likely running through its third use since its last wash - taking in the sent of Axe, hamburger, old leather and something so distinctly Alfred that it made him want to sigh with the utmost bliss.

And than he started to cry.

Truly, deeply cry.

His sobs were near silent, but his body still shook painfully with each one. The quiet little gasps that were pulled from him when he tried to breath were filled with the smells of Alfred's being and only helped to make everything so much worse. The tightening hold around his slight form was as heart-achingly painful as it was comforting and the panicked soothing words in his ear - so close that it made his neck tingle - were only making more tears fall from the cloudy violets that stared miserably at the little white stars on the American flag tie his brother so proudly wore. Wishing on them - even if they were only made of fabric - wishing so desperately that all this pain would just go away.

"Matt..! Matt, please.. J-Just tell me what's wrong, I'll make it all better, I promise! Please..?" A warm hand pressed against the Canadians tear stained cheek, strong and firm as it brought the his face away from the hiding place it had made on the Americans chest. Alfred's eyes looked bright and glossy with panic and worry as he stared at his twins and Matthew instantly felt the regret and guilt build up in his chest as he looked at that pained expression, so lost to what to do. He was so selfish, so fucking selfish wallowing in his own misery like this. Matthew hated himself for making that look come to his brothers face.

He didn't get the chance to say he was fine and he was sorry though, he didn't get the chance to even muster up the thought of telling the other man that he didn't need to worry about him because all of a sudden there was hot breath on his cheek and over his lips and Matthew's mind went blank as he tried to figure out exactly why.

This why happened to be very easy to answer.

Finding no words to properly comfort his sobbing mess of a twin, Alfred had resorted to the best kind of expression of feeling that he knew - touch. It was a simple action that was solely meant for comfort, he had leaned in, brought his face into his brothers, noses pressed side by side and foreheads just as equally flushed together. Alfred had closed his eyes and his brow was knit together tightly against his brothers as he cupped his twins face closer with his one hand and used the other to pull the Canadian's mid-section closer. Nudging their noses closer again, the American exhaled deeply before he let out his desperate little plea "M-Matt.. Matt, please.. I'll fix it, whatever it is. I just- Just tell me what's wrong..? Plea-"

"Don't forget me."

The American stilled, pulling away from the - slightly disappointed, mostly thankful - Canadian to look him in the eye once again, now with confusion.

Matthew bit down on his lip lightly, staring back at his brother with a foggy, distant look in his slightly darkened hues. Tear stains still covered his face and left an uncomfortable tightness wherever their trails happened to lay, a small silent hiccup came from him before he spoke again, this time more quietly yet a little more clearly as well "T-Tomorrow.. A-At the meeting.. This time.. Don't f-forget about me..? I-I c-can't-" He swallowed back the rest of the words to save from explaining that part of his problem to his brother as, he was sure, that it was something the man wouldn't really want to hear. Still, being forgotten by the other man was nearly just as painful as having his arms around him and knowing he was unable to have more than just that embrace.

If Alfred could see the suddenly impassive look on his brothers face, he certainly didn't show it and, instead, just looked sad and guilty as he pulled the Canadian into one of those tight embraces that he both loved and hated so much at the same time. ".. I-I won't forget.. I promise, and, a hero never breaks his promises Mattie, s-so no worries! Okay?" He pulled back from the slimmer man and gave him another one of those stunningly bright smiles, brushing some of the Canadians curly strands out of his face.

Matthew smiled shyly and resisted from leaning into the rough knuckles that were barely grazing across his cheek. The smile did not reach his eyes because he knew, Alfred would not remember him tomorrow, he never did.

There had been a thousand times before this moment - a million, if not more - that the man before him had made him a promise and never kept to his word, but, Alfred always did his best to keep his promises to anyone else he had ever said one to and so, Matthew came realize that it was simply because he just wasn't worth anything to the American a long long time ago. He wasn't worth remembering enough to be kept a promise to, not even a hero's promise. So, when he felt that familiar heart crushing pain fill up his chest, it instantly became a hollow pain, so numbed it was almost not there.

He felt empty.

But empty was safe.

Empty was painless.

And Alfred couldn't seem to see empty either, because his smile simply grew until it was almost a grin. He messed up his twins hair a bit before half-heartedly fixing it again, his grin disappearing back into a much softer smile "I won't forget."

Matthew looked at those calm blue eyes, tried so hard not to believe him. Still, he felt a spot of hope grow in his heart, and he smiled. Small, happy. "..okay..."

Alfred pulled him close once again, kept him there where it was safe and warm and Matthew realized then, that, if Alfred broke his promise...

If he..

What did he do to deserve this?

The constant hum of chatting nations filled the room as everyone began to gather their things and get ready to head back to the hotel, all complaining about what went wrong with today's meeting and what was most likely to go wrong again tomorrow. There was few countries who actually enjoyed these five day endeavours across the world, anyone who did was most likely crazy, lonely or Italy.

Sometimes Canada wondered if he was the only one to ever pity that German.

Well.

Germany would have to go without even his pity today.

"Yes! Finally! Freedom! I'm freaking starving guys, who wants to hit up my amazing fast food chains with me?" Almost bouncing with excitement, America successfully interrupted France and England's bickering with his megaphone voice, causing the Frenchman to even wince as Arthur merely rolled his eyes at his former wards antics. Apparently, there was a positive side to sitting beside that loudmouth every meeting, growing a tolerance.

"No one wants to murder their taste-buds on that garbage you try to call food America. If you want something to eat, you can come to my hotel room and I'll cook you up something healthy right quick." Nodding to himself like he'd just done right by a child, England's gentlemanly expression was quickly turned into a scowl as he watched said American make gagging motions to France whom, in turn, was looking highly amused.

Standing off to left of the group, Matthew watched the Brit release an onslaught of profanities at the other two men. Watched as they laughed and argued among each other like they always did and likely always will.

Matthew watched.

Waited.

Just once more.

He waited.

"Alfred..."