His Own Boogie-Man

Rating: T

Summary: Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RussAme

BrooklynBabbii

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Recommended Listening: "Dreamcatcher" by Secret Garden

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.:Chapter One:.

A Friend

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Little Alfred hid under his covers, tears marring his features. It was his entire fault. It was his fault: the car coming, the ball coming to a stop in the middle of the road… the part where Mathew got hurt. It was his fault.

He shouldn't have kicked the ball over that high. He had known Mathew wouldn't catch it. His younger brother was too short.

But the little blonde boy had run after the ball, saying, "I got it, I got it, Alfie! Don't worry, I'll be a good baby brother and win this time!" Alfred had only enough time to scream, "Mattie!" Right as said boy took off to retrieve the ball from the middle of the street…

…Right into the path of an incoming car.

Alfred sniffled, scrunching his eyes tight. He didn't want to see that memory again. It was all his fault. He was supposed to be the big brother, but instead of him getting hurt and ending up in a coma, it was his baby brother, Mathew.

Little Mathew, who sat alone in his little hospital bed, sleeping. Alfred took every chance he could to visit, but all he saw his baby brother do was sleep. He didn't wake up. He didn't smile when Alfred came in and then try to fuss over his hair, trying to force Alfred's cowlick to lie down.

He didn't open his blue-violet eyes and try to help Alfred read one of the many books Alfred would bring home from the school library.

He didn't wake up. He had asked his parents why but they said Mathew was just sleeping and would wake up when God told him to. But Alfred had a deep suspicion that they were lying to him. He knew they were lying, that Mathew might never wake up and play with him ever again.

That he was a terrible big brother for letting this happen when he was supposed to be the hero and protect them.

He sniffled, cowering deeper under his covers. Loud voices came from down the hall and pass the stairs. Alfred whimpered as he heard his father yell once more. They were arguing over bills again, Mathew's bills, in particular.

Alfred sniffed, because of him, his daddy had to work overtime at the office and his mommy was always taking extra shifts at the store she helped run. But money was still tight and if Alfred was hearing the news right, then money was going to be like this for a while. They were in something like a depression, what was it, oh yes, a recession.

They were in a recession and because of his getting Mathew hurt, his family was suffering from his baby brother's medical bills.

Alfred whimpered once more as he heard his mother crying and his father trying to console her. His blue eyes were dark with sadness. They had been fighting like this a lot. Money was getting harder to manage. It was his entire fault.

If he hadn't kicked that ball so high, Mathew would still be here, and his family would all be together, no fighting, no forever sleeping, and just smiling like the happy family they were supposed to be.

Alfred whimpered for possibly the hundredth time that night. He peeked out from under his covers to look at the time on his Batman clock. It read back to him, in green lettering, 8: 54. He nodded sadly, as he sat up in bed, the blanket falling off his head and slipping down his shoulders. It was nearly time for him to go to bed, anyways.

He started first grade, tomorrow…

Mathew would have started kindergarten.

Alfred held back a sob, as he brought his knees to his chest.

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Mr. Vargas' room, first grade

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Alfred stood in the doorway of the brightly colored classroom. He saw all the other kids, lots of kids, running around and playing and laughing, but he couldn't find it in him to join them. He looked at the name plate on the door, reading it perfectly as "Mr. Feliciano Vargas, first grade room 121".

He looked to the other door, and saw, "Mr. Tino Väinämöinen, kindergarten room 120". His usually sky-blue eyes darkened. That would have been Mathew's room, he remembered from reading the paper the school sent to his home in the mail.

He looked down at his red Converses; how they were new despite how his family could not really afford much. All of his clothes were new on him, his white graphic tee of SpongeBob, and his new dark shorts.

The only thing he wore that wasn't new was his Uncle Fred's military bomber jacket. He had given it to Alfred, since he had just turn into a "big boy" and had deserved it.

Alfred eyed the many badges and pins on the brown leather. Uncle Fred, his mother's older brother, had given to him right at the end of his birthday, when Alfred was going to bed, it was his present-that and new scooter, but it was the bomber jacket he loved the most.

It his last piece of his Uncle Fred. Uncle Fred had died in Iraq. He had read the letter, even though it wasn't for him. He had been eating cereal and making sure Mathew didn't spill his all over his shirt. He had seen his mommy coming in and had asked her, "Mommy, this paper says Uncle Fred was KIA, what's a KIA?"

He hadn't known then, but he knew now. KIA meant Killed-In-Action. His dear and sweet, and funny, Uncle Fred had been killed on the battlefield. He had had to watch his mommy for a long time. She didn't smile for three whole days and had cried a lot, saying she had lost the last one, the last Carmen family member.

Carmen was his mommy's last name.

Alfred bit his lip softly and kicked an invisible pebble across the floor as he finally sighed and made his way to the cubbies to put away his little Spiderman backpack. His lunch was in it, his mom said, and she had given him a few dollars in case he was still hungry for lunch that day.

He easily ducked out of the path of a little Korean boy who tried to jump at him, calling out, "I claim this boy in the name of South Korea!" Alfred knew what Korea was; it was split in two because the two halves couldn't decide whether or not to be friends with each other.

Alfred didn't want to be caught up in the friend problem and so he moved away, saying, "No, thank you." He remembered to use his manners. His mommy would be proud of him. The little Korean boy had seemed shocked at first, and then appeared about ready to cry, but then another boy came. One with long hair and who looked like a girl, who said, "Im, get up, we're having rice balls at my table."

The long-haired boy looked back at Alfred, who shyly looked away, digging the toe of his shoe into the tile and blushing. He had his hands behind him and before he could say anything, the long-haired boy snorted and stuck his nose in the air, to Alfred's surprise, and walked away. He took the Korean boy with him, who had stopped crying and seemed happy about eating "rice balls with Yao, for the great land of Korea".

Alfred was hurt and confused. He stood, dejected, at the cubbies. Then, as his eyes burned, he sighed softly once more, as he slowly made his way to the reading circle where everyone was gathering.

He sat down, next to a little boy, who was shorter than him with large eyebrows. He sat up straight, with good posture, and had bright emerald eyes. His hair was a bit messy, but blonde with speckled brown dots. He was a bit pale, but then again, Alfred was a bit tanner than most since he played outside a lot.

He wore a pair of dark brown pants, some kind of darker brown boots, and a white long-sleeved shirt, with a bright red tie under the collar. He wasn't smiling or really acknowledging Alfred, but the little American boy tried anyways.

He thought of something nice to say, "I really like your eyes. They're pretty." The boy with the big eyebrows turned to raise said brows in amazement. "What did you just say?" He asked, Alfred saw a gap in the other's front teeth, and he thought he had done something wrong.

His blue eyes showing hurt, he stammered, "I-I said, I really like your eyes. That's all. I didn't mean to offend you or hurt your feelings, I promise."

He was about to turn away and pretend he hadn't made a total fool of himself on his first day of school, when he was supposed to be making friends, when the big-browed boy said, "You didn't offend me, I didn't hear you all the way."

Alfred blinked, and then smiled, thinking he had a new friend. He held out a hand, "I'm Alfred F. Jones, the F stands for Fred, like my Uncle Fred." He saw the other boy smile slightly back and then shake his head. "How do you do, Alfred, my name's Arthur Kirkland, pleased to meet you."

Alfred blinked and then cocked his head in confusion. "How do I do what?" Arthur frowned in confusion, about to ask what the other meant when another blonde boy came in and sat in Arthur's lap. "Mon ami," the boy said, his big blue eyes showing false hurt as he held a hand dramatically to his forehead. "You left me at the toy bin. That was not nice."

Arthur scowled and then shoved the blonde from his lap. The blonde landed on his stomach, his blue shirt riding up on his back and his tight red leggings bent at the knee with his little black heels kicking at the air.

The blonde boy pushed himself up on his arms, huffing as he pushed his long light-blonde hair from his face. "That was not funny, mon ami. You should apologize now, before I tell on you."

Arthur huffed, "I'm not saying sorry to an ugly frog!" Alfred's eyes widened at the name-calling, surprised. The blonde boy stood up, his eyes about to brim over as he tried to glare at Arthur, who glared back. Alfred saw the blonde's blue shirt was too short, he could see some of the other's pudgy belly.

"I'm telling on you," the blonde said and was about to stomp off when Alfred took his hand, his eyes hurt and feeling the need to apologize for his new friend's actions. "Please don't tell on Arthur, you just scared him is all. Please don't get him in trouble. I'll apologize for him, I'm sorry."

Arthur gaped at Alfred, as did the blonde boy. The blonde boy blinked and then smiled, as he sat down beside Alfred. Arthur huffed. The blonde introduced himself, leaning into Alfred's lap, as he fluttered his eyes, and placed his hands to either side of Alfred.

"Oui, since you were nice to me, I won't tell on the meanie Arthur." He stuck his tongue out at Arthur, who stuck his tongue out back. "I'm Francis Bonnefoy, I'm from Paris~"

Arthur pointed at him, glaring, "No, you're not! Your parents are, you just speak French and act like the frog you are!" Francis stuck out his bottom lip in a cute pout, to impress Alfred, "Same difference, prissy boy."

Arthur's face turned red slightly. "H-hey, you can't call me that, you-you frog!" Francis huffed, tossing his hair over his shoulder as he laid his head in Alfred's lap and took the American's hand to play with his fingers. "You are so childish, Angleterre, one would suspect you don't like me." Francis looked up to Alfred, with big blue puppy eyes. "You like me, don't you, Alfred? You don't hate me, like Arthur does, do you?"

Alfred beamed, to Francis' joy and Arthur sulk. "Nope~ I like everybody. I like your boots, Francis. They're really nice." Francis giggled, as he lifted one of his feet. "I know right? Paris has all the great fashion stuff. One day, I'm going to go to an art school there and be a fashion designer there."

His eyes lit up, "Oh! Oh, maybe I could be a model too! My mommy says I have a modeling face and that all I have to do, would be to lose the last of my baby fat." He poked his belly, smiling, "I'll be skinny in no time~"

Arthur cut in, "A model, so what? When I grow up, I'm going to go back to England and be a part of Parliament so I can assist her Majesty." He stuck his tongue out at Francis. "That's way better than being some stupid fashion designer or some skinny model."

Alfred smiled, "You guys are cute, but I like both your ideas!" Both boys, Francis and Arthur, looked at him, and said at the same time, "Really? You think we get our dreams to come true?"

Alfred nodded, playing with Francis's hair, since the blonde had never gotten his head out of his lap. "Yup, and when I become President or the best American astronaut, I'll go and say, 'I met those guys in my first grade class. They were my best friends~'."

Francis giggled, kicking out his feet joyfully, as Arthur blushed slightly and muttered something under his breath. "You don't mean that…"

Alfred begged to differ, "No, I do, Artie! You seem really smart, for someone in only the first grade," Arthur blushed again. "And I know you're gonna do great things in Parliament!" Arthur coughed to clear his throat, "Why, thank you, Alfred." He smiled at the boy, Alfred smiled back.

Francis tugged on Alfred's hands, "Oh, oh, do me! Do me next! What do you think about me?" Alfred laughed, earning a few looks at him when a few other kids heard the joy inside of it. Some crept closer, if only to hear what was being said to make the grumpy English boy, Arthur, smile and to find out why the French boy, Francis, was in his lap.

"You, Francis," Alfred began, "are probably going to make to lots of money in Paris, as a famous fashion designer." He curled a lock of Francis' blonde hair around his finger, more kids coming around him. Alfred didn't notice them; neither did Arthur or a giggling Francis.

"And I would wear whatever I could find of all your fashion labels, like any good friend would do!" Alfred said, "I would advertise for you, when the cameras take all these pictures of me. When I hold my arm," he demonstrated, holding up an arm, "All the cameras are gonna see your fashion labels."

Francis beamed, as he clapped his hands together, oh-so happy. "Really? You would do that for me, Alfred?" When Alfred nodded happily and said, "Uh-huh, sure," Francis took it as a sign to do a traditional sign of gratitude in his home. He leaned up and kissed Alfred on the cheek.

Francis smiled, "Thank you, Alfred. You're really sweet." Arthur huffed, not even knowing of the crowd behind them, said, "I want to thank Alfred, too!" He leaned over and pressed his lips to Alfred's other cheek, making the American blush.

"Oh, oh, I want to kiss Alfred, too!"

"Me too, I want to hear good things about me, too!"

Alfred and his newfound friends turned and their eyes widened as kids came to Alfred in seemingly dozens to hear what good things he could say about them.

Luckily, Mr. Vargas finally swooped in, to save Alfred, as a dozen children-boys and girls alike- kissed his cheeks and said thank yous after ach compliment he gave them.

Arthur huffed, not liking all of the attention being given to his new friend. Francis was giggling as he crawled over to sit by Alfred so he wouldn't be stepped on or accidentally kissed by someone meaning to get Alfred.

Some of the kisses were sloppy and some were going for other places when his cheeks were occupied, his nose, his glasses, his forehead— it was a bit of a mess.

"Alright, everyone, settle down, and please stop kissing Alfred," Mr. Vargas said, smiling as he gently pushed a small Polish boy away from Alfred who laughed as he wiped his cheek from the numerous kisses. Mr. Vargas looked to Alfred and handed him a wet wipe to clean his face, "Ve~, little womanizer, you~"

Alfred blushed, as he looked to Arthur and Francis, the French boy waved happily at him, beaming, and then the other children smiling at him. They were nice to me, he realized, first grade might not be so bad.

They were amidst their second story, Alfred lying on his back and Arthur on his stomach, propped on his elbows, while Francis had made himself comfortable by lying on Alfred again. The other kids were deep into the story as well.

It was a tale of fairy tales, something Arthur seemed to be fascinated about, and Alfred only found interesting because of the fact that it had heroes.

When suddenly, came voices at the door, Mr. Vargas looked up from telling the story to see a tall blonde boy being led into the room by another teacher. It was Mr. Edelstein, the third grade teacher from down the hall.

He cleared his throat, and then announced, as he turn the pale blonde to face the classroom of children. "I am terribly sorry to interrupt your class, Mr. Vargas and students, but," he gently pushed the pale blonde forward a few steps only for the blonde to seem to be deeply rooted to the spot. "I seem to have confused one of your students for my own; since he is a bit tall for his age."

The pale blonde boy looked to the class, his face showing his slight fear and hesitation at being in a new area. "Um, privet, everyone…" He said, albeit a bit quietly and then he clasped his hands in front of his beige coat. He puffed out his chest, trying to appear brave. "I am Ivan Bragniski, a proud and strong Russian in American lands."

At first the class was silent and Ivan felt he had said the wrong thing. He deflated, frowning, as his violet eyes ran over the whole room. Were Americans still mad over that, what was it, the Cold war thing? But America and Russia were friends now, his mother said so! She said he would make lots of friends if he said where he was from and was brave.

He felt like he had a great mistake, until Alfred sat up and waved at him. "Hi, Ivan. You're from Russia, that's cool, my Uncle Fred went to Moscow, once, and he said it was a very pretty capital!" He took Ivan off guard, his compliment about his mother nation making his cheeks dust red slightly as he stammered, "Um, thank you…"

The American blonde then eased Francis out of his lap, with the greatest care. Knowing eyes were on him, he stood on his feet, brushed himself off before running to Ivan and properly extending his hand. "My name's Alfred, I'd be delighted to be your first friend here. I can introduce you to everyone, too!"

Ivan smiled, he felt a bit better when he saw Alfred was only about an inch shorter than him. He wasn't going to be called a freak for his height this year. There was someone else who was tall for their age. He shook hands with Alfred, "Privet, Alfred, I am called Ivan." Mr. Edelstein smiled, nodded and then turned on his heel and left to his own classroom.

Alfred beamed and then said, "We were just reading this story about knights and princesses, wanna hear it? It's really cool!" Ivan nodded, clapping his gloved hands together. "Da, that sounds fun!"

Alfred took his hand, missing the feel of the hard skin underneath and how Ivan's violet eyes flashed near dark purple as he came into a brighter area. He was led back to the reading area where Mr. Vargas greeted him. "Ve~, your eyes are purple, that's pretty!" The Northern Italian teacher clapped, "Yeah, my classroom is complete~"

Ivan sat beside Alfred, smiling as he looked around a bit. Everyone was looking him over and seeing he was friendly and he, remembering what his older said, waved at them and gave them his best and gentle smile. A few children inched back and closer to Alfred, who was oblivious as he laid back on his back so Francis could rest his head on his stomach.

Ivan wanted to frown, and ask why some of the children had moved away but his attention was averted as Mr. Vargas restarted the story so he could hear everything from the beginning. No one objected and Ivan got to hear the story.

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Lunchtime

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Alfred ran to his cubby, after he told Arthur and Francis were they were sitting. He turned around and saw Ivan behind him, confused. The Russian boy asked, "Um, forgive me for my question, but what are we doing, now?"

Alfred smiled; he liked being the one asked question instead of the one asking them. "That's easy! We're going to lunch to eat!"

Ivan nodded, and then frowned, "But my mother is not here to prepare lunch. I did not bring anything." Those violet eyes looked sad, "Do I have to starve. I did not think to ask for money either…"

Alfred's eyes went darker in sympathy, as he felt bad for Ivan. Then, he remembered the lunch his mommy had packed. She always packed a lot for him and he had saw Mathew's lunch with him, apparentally she had put it there on accident.

"That's okay, Ivan," he said he dug out his Marvel lunchbox and then Mathew's igloo one. He turned and gave Ivan the snow one. "My mommy packed my brother's lunch with me on accident, I just noticed, if you need any more food, I have more in my lunchbox to share with you." He held up his own lunchbox and Ivan smiled, "Really? I can eat what's in here?"

Alfred nodded and Ivan giggled. "Thank you, Alfred, you're too kind." Alfred laughed, "A lot of people have said that to me today!"

They made their way outside and Alfred turned to ask Ivan a few question about Russia when he saw the light-colored scarf around Ivan's neck. "Don't you get hot with that on?" He asked. Ivan shook his head.

"Actually, no, I don't, which is good because I like to wear this scarf every day." He puffed out his chest, not even knowing that he had opened his mouth a bit too wide and had accidentally allowed sunlight to gleam along his sharp canines. "My big sister made it for me, before we left Russia."

Alfred grinned, "Cool! I don't have a big sister, I'm the oldest, I have a baby brother though." Ivan looked intrigued by this. "Where is your little brother?"

Alfred's smile slimmed somewhat. "He's in the hospital, sleeping," Ivan was about to frown, and say he was sorry, like he thought he ought to when Alfred continued, "But don't worry, I just know Mattie is going to wake up and come home any day now! He likes learning and I doubt he is going to let sleep stop him from going to school."

Ivan smiled. He liked Alfred, he liked how his smile looked, how he was so happy and so optimistic. His eyes flashed dark, when Alfred turned and waved at Francis and Arthur across the yard. Yes, he thought, he will be my friend forever. He will never leave me.

I won't let him leave me.

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-END CHAPTER-

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(I know I have no business starting up a new story when I have like 7 others in need of updating after the M-scare, but well~ How was it?)

I wanted to do a slightly less morbid or angsty fict. This seemed cute in my head, but trust me, anything that comes from this German mind, ends up dark…and angsty…and other shit…sooner rather than later.

But since pretty much everyone is a kid in this story, the rating might not go up to M for smut…maybe something else, but I know it will be T for a while.

Any questions? Comments? Leave it in a review and make me have a smile for my day~

~BrooklynBabbii

Reviews get to play patty-cake with little Russia~

Ivan: you know you want to be my friend, too~

READ AND REVIEW!