Alright, so this is the beginning of my little 'hetalia kick.' I've got at least 2 other stories I wanna do, and yes, I know, I'm already in the middle of like, 3 other stories. ANYWAY this is a F.A.C.E. story, however, they're all humans, not nations. So, for anyone who doesn't know, Alfred=America, Arthur=England, Francis=France and Matthew=Canada. In this, Alfred and Matthew are about 17-18 years old, and Francis and Arthur are simply together, having decided not to marry. Enjoy!

"ALFRED! COME DOWN TO DINNER AT ONCE!"

"I'M BUSY!"

"NOW, YOUNG MAN!"

"NO!"

"Good lord, if I have to I WILL DRAG YOU TO THIS DINNER TABLE!"

Arthur stood up and stormed upstairs. Matthew and Francis could hear the both of them arguing, though they couldn't make out the words.

Francis lazily leaned back on his chair, swishing his wine in his glass, and calmly waiting for Arthur and Alfred. Matthew, meanwhile, was anxious as he listened to his brother and one of his fathers fighting. His eyes kept darting up the stairs, where the voices were heard. He squeezed his bear just a bit tighter for comfort.

Arthur had invited Alfred over for dinner. Matthew was surprised Alfred had accepted, as ever since he had moved out, he hated spending time with the family. Francis would often leave for long periods of time as well, as he and Arthur were nearly consistently splitting and making up.

No one was surprised Matthew was there. He had always stayed with Arthur, even when Alfred left. All three of them barely noticed he was still there, though. He had to remind Arthur to give him a serving of food. He sort of regretted reminding him, the smell of whatever it was Arthur had made them did not exactly ease Matthew's comfort.

"Hey, Matti," Francis whispered to Matthew, "have some of this," he offered a glass of wine, "I've learned it helps whenever you try to get Arthur's food down."

Matthew gave a small smile. Reluctantly, he took the glass of wine and drank a small sip. He had learned when he was young not to drink too much of Francis's wine.

Finally, Alfred and Arthur came down. Alfred sulkily took a seat, while Arthur slid into his own chair.

All four of them cut into their food in silence. Alfred took one bite of the food and dropped his fork onto the plate with a clatter. "This food sucks."

Arthur gritted his teeth. "No," he said, obviously trying and failing to keep his temper in control, "You're appetite is just sullied from all that filthy junk food!"

"Hey, I eat what I want. You can't tell me what to do anymore."

"Yes I bloody well can—"

"Will the both of you please stop arguing so we can finish one meal?" Francis asked. Although he was still smiling easily, the rest of his face showed how much the arguing was grating on him.

"I don't want to finish this," Alfred said, pushing his plate away.

"Honestly, you're so disrespectful," Arthur said, "Why can't you do anything right?"

"Oh, I don't know, I guess I was just raised that—"

"Enough!" Francis said, slamming his wine glass on the table. The other three looked at him in surprise. Francis rarely ever yelled. He took a deep breath with his eyes closed. Finally he opened his eyes with a calm expression. "I think—we should take a vacation."

The others gasped. Arthur was the first to speak up, "Francis, I'm not sure if that's a good—"

"That sounds great!" Alfred said, "Beach vacation! Just me and the waves!"

"And the rest of us." Arthur said, "And who said we'd go to the beach anyway?"

"A beach is fine." Francis said. "Let's go tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Arthur asked, "That's a bit short notice…" He didn't look very comfortable with this concept.

"The sooner the better," Francis mumbled, tearing off a piece of his meal.

"Alright!" Alfred said, "Vacation! Vacation! Vacation! I'm gonna go pack!" and without another word he ran upstairs to his room.

"Alfred!" Arthur called, standing up, "You can pack after dinner, now come down here and eat!" He ran upstairs after him. Hopelessly, Francis buried his face in his hands.

Matthew once again looked between Francis and the stairs, where arguing could once again be heard.

He sighed, a little dejected, and stood up to clean the table. Francis had finished his, so Matthew took his plate, left Arthur's food by the microwave in case he wanted more later, while he threw out his own and Alfred's food, as there was no way Alfred would eat it now, and Matthew didn't particularly want it himself, either.

Sighing, he went to go read a book until Arthur left the room Matthew and Alfred shared (whenever Alfred decided to come at all) so he would be able to sleep.

A vacation he thought. He hadn't really expected any of them to ask for his input, but it would have been nice. Although, now that he thought about it, a vacation might be a good idea after all. Like Alfred had said, just them and the water. A bit of quiet time for them to all take a break and forget about their troubles.

Yeah, a vacation would be nice.

They actually managed to leave relatively early the next day.

Which meant they left around 5:30 pm.

First, they had to decide which beach they would go to. Arthur wanted to stay relatively close to civilization, and Alfred wanted to find somewhere he could surf. Francis tried his best to coordinate between the two. They had to give up on Alfred's surfing idea, as they would have to go too far, but Arthur and Francis argued that Alfred was still getting what he wanted, as the beach was his idea in the first place. Alfred was still sulky.

Then, there was the packing itself. Arthur and Francis got into a big argument as to how long they would be on this vacation. Francis didn't think it mattered, but Arthur wanted to know how many clothes he would need. Francis said, if necessary, they could just do their laundry there, but Arthur didn't know how expensive that would be. Finally, he just packed a weeks worth and moved on to convince Alfred his surfboard wouldn't fit in the car.

Matthew stayed silent for the entire ordeal. He had packed his clothes relatively quickly, and even helped load everything into the car. Beyond that, he decided to simply wait out the arguments. It was the easiest way to deal with them. He had learned a long time ago getting involved in any way was near suicidal.

Finally, they made it onto the road. Alfred was happily kept occupied by his handheld video game, although he almost immediately whined that he needed to use the restroom. Arthur and Francis bickered about what was the best way to get to where they were going, and Arthur criticized Francis for his driving technique. Matthew always got sick when he read in cars, so he hugged his bear and tried to sleep. Tried being the key word, however eventually, he reached the quiet unconsciousness.

"Matti. Matti we're here." Matthew opened his eyes to find Arthur standing over him, lightly shaking him awake. Arthur gave a soft smile. Matthew climbed out of the car. Alfred was already running towards the cabin Francis had managed to rent short notice, while Francis himself was unloading the car.

"Go on up to bed, Matthew, you seem tired." Arthur said.

"You're sharing a bedroom with Alfred, second on the right as you go in." Francis called as he tossed Matthew his suitcase.

"Thanks." He slowly made his way to the cabin.

Alfred was already sitting in their room. "Man," he said to Matthew, "This place stinks."

"I thought you wanted to go to the beach," Matthew said.

"Well, yeah, but I mean this cabin. Look, the wood's all rotten. And the beds creak, see?" He bounced the bed to show the squeaks.

"I'm sure it'll be," Matthew gave a huge yawn, "fine."

Alfred shook his head. "Go to bed, Matti." Matthew nodded and lay down on his bed. He fell asleep the instant his head touched the pillow.