Hetalia don't belong to me as cartoon network don't own avengers.

A/N: Okay, so the first flashback is in an alternate universe.

"Might be... Norway! Help!... What do you mean, Den... Th't..."

Sealand had crashed. Horrifically.

Sealand's personification, Peter Kirkland, had felt it when he was with Sweden and Finland. None of them realized what had happened when Peter collapsed.

...

"So, to get this straight, one of your ships just happened to crash into Seal and completely and utterly destroy it? Dude, I doubt this was an accident." America folded his arms cross his chest, shaking his head.

A couple of countries, like the North and South Italies, Japan, China, Russia, America, England, Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Norway, and France, had assembled to question Germany, since it was a German ship that ended Sealand.

"It was! I would never do that! Why would I?"

"Didn't one of your citizens kidnap the prince's son once?" England asked, eyebrow raising. He couldn't really care less about Peter, but... something in him did.

"Ja. But he was with other dutch men too! Why don't you blame the Netherlands?"

"Dude. It's a German ship."

Germany closed his eyes. And breathed out, slowly. He really didn't need this, he didn't need this... "I'm done." Germany left.

...

"Well, England, Sealand was kinda cool. I mean, he did have the guts to try to save us from those Pictaponians. He even ran on water!" America started to unbutton his shirt, while England, who already had his shirt off, started to work on his trousers.

"Whatever. He was a little prat. Bothering me when he got bored. Eh."

"I heard he's fading. Only a day or two left before he, you know." Personifications' deaths were very tragic, and more often than not completely avoided in conversation. It reminded others of what could happen to them.

"Yeah, I know. I talked to Sweden and Finland. Finland was in tears though, so I could not get much of the conversation." Trousers off. Now it was England's job to help America with his shirt. The boy could never unbutton things the right way. His strong hands always tore it apart.

"Now, America, I don't really want to talk about death. Let's talk about us. Wait, second thought! Let's not talk. Let's have sex. You want to bottom or top?"

"Alfred? Darling?"

Martha and George had come home around 11, and after they paid the sitter, climbed upstairs to change and check on the children. It had become a thing that they would do after parties, which, now a days, had become almost very day in the week.

Being family to a very rich man like George Jones had its downers, like everything does. At least the family had money, right?

Any ways, when Martha had changed from her elegant midnight blue knee-length dress to a floral silk night-gown and made her way to the boy's room to find a pea fully asleep Matthew, but an absent Alfred, you could say she was way past worried. She had no idea how to feel, as images of Alfred worked through her head.

Images of Alfred laughing. Of him smiling, crying, even ones of him as a baby boy, right after George had left them for the sickly, pregnant bitch of a mistress that gave Matthew before she died. Even of ones when he came back with Matthew, begging for her forgiveness. And when Alfred had instantly bonded with Matthew, leaving Martha no choice but to forgive the children's father and learn to eventually love Matthew.

God, where was her sweet Alfie? The one that had ticklish toes, the one who stayed a petite baby till he sprouted up into a boy. The one she truly loved.

"Alfred! Alfie?"

She never looked in the pot that Alfred was sound asleep in, totally ignoring his mother's cries as he chased bunnies in his dreams, the big brother he had never got to have in this world, smiling as he did so.

.:.:.:...:.:.:.

"Matthew, honey, would you change and come down stairs?" Martha had awoken her stepson, Matthew, not even answering his groggy question of 'Why' as she left the room.

Matt figured there was a surprise waiting for him. It was almost Christmas, right? June had just passed, and Christmas was in July... or at least that's what Kidd Kraddick from the morning had told him long ago.

So, Matt dressed his best, a hockey jersey and jeans, making himself presentable by brushing his hair and teeth. He even grabbed Kuma-something, his polar bear, before departing from his room.

As he descended the stairs, though, a rough, deep voice talked, making Matthew stop, listening to the big words come out of his mouth. Some were even too big for him to imagine.

What was abducted? Charged? That one sounded like something an electric thing would need, but the context of the voice's tone didn't seem to mean that.

"I'm so sorry! I hadn't noticed! They were both watching that Pokémon show they liked, while I was cooking the dinner. They both had dinner." Was that voice Hannah's voice? It sure sounded like it, Matthew though, as he sat on the second to top stair step. If it was Hannah's voice, then something must have happened. It was all scratchy and sounded like a crying person's.

Matthew chose that pause after Hannah's plea to run downstairs, still expecting a tree to be in the center of the room, and many gifts. "I'm here!"

A man turned from a tense position of sitting in front of Hannah to look at Matthew. He turned back to George, who was holding a crying Martha. "Is this the brother?"

"Yes. He is Matthew. Matthew, introduce yourself like a gentleman." George looked at his son, and after a moment of hesitation on Matthew's part, he added, "Come on."

"I'm Matthew." He ran over to his daddy, who gestured to the couch, before Matthew took a seat next to Hannah. She really was crying. Huh, Matthew had always thought mean people couldn't cry.

"Hello, Mr. Matthew," the rough, deep voice belonged to a police officer. "My name's Officer Hill." Matthew slowly took his outstretched hand, expecting it to zap him or something. Alfred did that to him once.

"Why? Why are you here, Mister Hill?" Matthew tilted his head to his left side in questioning.

"I'm here for your half-brother, Alfred. He's missing."

"I'm not his 'half' brother; I'm just his full one. And what's missing?" Looking around, Matthew noticed the absence of his brother. "Where's Al?"

"That's what we are looking for. Do you know where he is, or could be?"

"...No," Matthew shook his head. "Did he get a kid nap?"

"We don't know. I want you to tell me. You were last seen with him, watching a program?"

"I don't know what a program is, but we were watching Pokémon, then we played hide and seek. Then I read a book. Oh, then dinner."

The officer wrote stuff down while Matthew was talking, and Matthew thought that that was really rude. After he stopped talking, and the officer stopped writing or whatever, he looked up at Matthew, "You said you played hide and seek with Alfred, then read a book? Where was Alfred during this?"

"Oh, that's easy. Alfred was either in the dryer, sheet cabinet, or behind the curtains. I think he hid behind the curtains, he likes to do that most." Matthew shrugged, whilst the adults shared a look, Martha no longer holding onto her husband. Oh no, now she was leaning against the couch, contemplating the thought of s making Matthew right then and there for abandoning her son and making her call the police for nothing, for the sleepless night she had, the only hour of sleep she had a nightmare of 'what if's.

All because of a game of hide and seek that Matthew instigated just to rid himself of her son.

"Really?" Hannah said, "Really? Really? I was yelled at by a police officer because you ditched a game of hide and seek?!" She stood, letting out huge huffs of breath. "I hate children!" She sighed, before going back on the couch. Mental note to self, never have kids. (Little did she know that that thought would stay with her until she rued it too late, on her deathbed.)

"I just wanted to read. Can't I?"

"Not when you have Alfred, son. You both will grow older, and get other friends of your own. But, first, you must be Alfred's friend. You know, he goes to school this year. You can read all you want then." George placed a hand upon his shoulder, comforting him.

"But! I need to read now!" Matthew, though he was only still very little, had loved words since he could talk. He just adored reading, it was by far his favorite thing to do.

"Well, you lot can solve is problems," Officer Hill stood, "I'll just look for the other boy."

.:.:.:...:.:.:.

Alfred had woken up earlier, but was just too afraid to come out. What should I do?! Thought he, as he peeked over the top of the vase, the officer in sight. He was going to get caught sooner or later, so might as well be now, right?

But then again, this hiding spot was really good, and not even Matt knew about it.

He was still also playing hide and seek.

So Alfred chose to hide, the police man looking in the aforementioned hiding places, all the while Alfred waited for his time to strike.

Aha! The police officer left the room. The time was then.

Alfred shot up, attempting to jump out of the vase. Unfortunately, his right leg had fallen asleep, leaving it dead, as it dragged Alfred to the floor, with a thump, as well as they vase, which took its own landing with a clash, the loud sound of glass being broken.

His mission of hide and seek was compromised; he was totally discovered. (He had also broken his wrist with that fall, as well as acquired a lots of cuts and bruises.)

"You are awesome. You are brilliant." Alfred studied himself in the mirror, as he straightened his Tom and Jerry shirt. He really needed a confidence boost and since no one around here would do it, he would have to. Not that it bothered him. He would have to stick up for himself all the time outside the hospital he was in. Not that anyone cared.

Three short knocks brought Alfred from his reflection, and Al smiled as he opened the door to Arthur, his... boyfriend?

Boyfriend sounds good enough.

Any ways, as Alfred opened the door and let Arthur inside, Arthur raised his brow as he surveyed the room. "I would have expected your room to be a mess."

"Huh? Why?"

"Well, for starters, look at Gilbert! When I first entered our room, I wasn't astonished at the slob's lack of cleanliness. Though there was some order to it."

"Whatever. I let the maids collect my dirty clothes and wash them. Gilbert's too paranoid for maids." Alfred went over to his tiny closet, and dug out a plain brown belt, putting it on as he continued, "I'm guessing you straitened everything out in your room? I think I heard Gilbert complaining about it a week ago..."

"Well, I bet you Gilbert couldn't clean to save his life." Arthur rolled his eyes. Why was he always surrounded by people like Gilbert? First it was his brothers, then all the other roommates he'd get. Until he decided that he would be better off without them.

Unfortunately, the cycle started again with Gilbert.

"Mkay, I'm ready to go." Alfred snatched up his remote and turned his television, gesturing for Arthur to start leaving. As Alfred and Arthur were walking in the hall, Arthur chose that moment to comment on Alfred's attire.

"You know we are supposed to be in group therapy?"

"Yeah. I know and group therapy is optional, Artie." Alfred rolled his eyes and chuckled, adding, "I'm the one who's been here awhile, remember Mr. Five Days?"

"My name's not Artie! It's Arthur! How many times have told you?" Seriously, the nicknames Alfred gave him were getting old. Fast. "And why aren't we going to group therapy? It's the other way, just to let you know."

"Well, if you remember from last night, I was gonna show ya something." Alfred grinned before completing his reply, "Or are you getting Alzheimer's, old man? You know, I heard the meaner people are, the more likely you'd be getting it."

Arthur's eyes widened as he reddened, "I'm only twenty-three! I am NOT old!"

"Sure ya ain't, Mister Kirkland."

"I hate you." Arthur's monstrous eyebrows clenched together.

"Love ya too, sweet cheeks."

"Whatever. Where are we going, any way? We clearly aren't going to therapy." Arthur stepped on, his arms crossed.

"Well, it's a secret. I would tell ya, but, well, we wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, now would we?" Alfred grinned, as they continued to converse, walking down the seemingly endless hallway, until they reached it. The emergency exit door.

"You ready?" Alfred asked, his voice in a whisper.

A brow raised as Arthur answered, "You idiot, we can't leave. There are cameras, and the door will trigger the alarm. There's no way I'm going outside." A little adrenaline went through Arthur, compelling him to want the outside. Not to mention that Arthur's been craving the outdoors. Fresh air. Long awaited sunlight caressing his pale white skin.

Alfred shook his head, and, even though Arthur raised his arms and gripped Alfred's, pushed the doors open. A blast of warm summer air welcomed Arthur and Alfred, the blissful scent of dirt and, to plainly put it, 'outsideness' wafted into the doorway.

"See? No alarm. Nothing to worry about, dude." Alfred gestured to the video camera, which was heavily covered by pink bubble gum. "Gilbert, Francis and I came over here last night and took the alarm off and chewed gum before covering up the camera's lens. We've doe this before, and it usually takes them two to three days to take care of this. This wing of the asylum's not really supervised much." Alfred took a daring step outside, "Oh, and before I forget." He started to slip off his Nike's, "You don't want dirt trailing in." Placing them by three other pairs, Alfred waited for Arthur to follow his steps.

As Arthur followed suit, taking off his sneakers, he called upon the three other pairs of shoes. "Alfred, are we meeting people?"

"Yeah. Francis, Feliks, and Gilbert. We're celebrating an amazing occasion. Wait, two occasions. Care to guess?"

"No, not really." Alfred rolled his eyes and lead Arthur over to a very tall group of bushes. Arthur stopped right in front of the brush, turning to Alfred, "What are we here for?"

"Well, for starters, your arrival, and Feliks' departure. He leaves this shitty place tomorrow at noon."

"Oh, good for him. What are we doing to celebrate?" Arthur asked, moving so Alfred could lead.

"Oh, you'll see. Don't wanna waste the surprise!"

They went through the bush, and came to a very in closed space where Gilbert, Francis, and Talks were sitting on the hospital's outside utility boxes, Gilbert laughing his 'keskeskes', a bottle of beer in his hand while Francis sat right by him, a cigarette in his hand. Feliks was sitting on the highest unit, whilst Gilbert and Francis were on the second highest. Alfred greeted them with a "Hey, long time no see! Where's the beer?"

Gilbert tossed a bottle to Alfred, who effortlessly twisted the cap off before chugging what Arthur guessed to be at least half the beer. "Are you even old enough to drink?" Arthur inquired, and Alfred slyly shook his head.

"But what happens in the bushes stays in the bushes."

"Wow." Arthur smiled, "I would have expected you to be the type of boy who'd wait for his first drink." Not really. Most teens these days drank, since it was easier to get fake IDs.

"Nah, I got my first beer at age.. what was it... nine? One of my Dad's drinking buddies let me have a full can. Drunk people just seem to live for children drinking beer. They let Matt, my brother, get his at seven. Of course, he didn't drink more than a sip."

Everyone laughed, and when they were done Francis asked, "Oh, and Alfred, when are we going to see him again? He was very adorable!"

Alfred gave him a wide-eyed look. "No. My brother."

Gilbert slyly grinned, "I think he's cute too, Alfred."

Alfred shook his head, "No, Gilbert, not you too! I thought you said you don't do glasses!"

"That was before I remembered glasses are a way for people who are shy to hide!" Gilbert was always in supply of a counter argument.

"Whatever. Matthew is cute. End of story!" Feliks sighed, so used to the 'Matthew argument.' Ever since Francis and Gilbert laid eyes on Alfred's brother, (who, by the way, is always ignored when he's with Alfred...) Matthew, they argued over and over on who had 'dibs' and other stuff. It was basically just to annoy Alfred, everyone knew that. (Maybe except Alfred.)

Of course, it wasn't the end of story, though.

Alfred turned to Feliks, "Don't you dare like him too! Isn't he like, too un fabulous for you?!"

This dreadful look of despiration was on Alfred's face. Arthur chose to have fun, instead of supporting his ally. "Alfred, I think... I think I might be in love with this Matthew!" Arthur, very dramatically, did an overly exaggerated swoon, laughing at Alfred.

"It isn't funny, Arthur!"

He stopped laughing, "Of course, Alfred. I'm sorry." He looked at everyone, Gilbert and Francis waiting for the punch line they knew was coming, "It's hilarious!"

.:.:.:...:.:.:.

"Has," Alfred had burped, "Anyone. Ever done. This!"

The longest burp in the history of civilization was dealt out by no other than Alfred Jones. Wide eyes stared.

After the beer, Gilbert pulled out another six-pack. This one was Coca-Cola.

They had all gotten one, and, when Alfred won the belching contest, he won the rest of the bottles, burping out his abc's, then going crazy before they all decided it was time to go.

Gilbert, Francis, and Feliks had departed after the long burp, leaving just the two of them.

Arthur and Alfred. Alfred and Arthur.

"So..." Alfred looked at Arthur, thinking of a couple of things they could do.

"...So?" Arthur inquired, looking into Al's eyes. Just knowing what he was thinking. "Do you want to go back inside, right now, or... Do you want to stay, outside?" Arthur's brows lifted, in questioning.

"Well, I dunno bout you, but I want to stay outside." They smiled at each other.

.:.:.:...:.:.:.

"Of course not, Franny. They didn't go all the way." Gilbert rolled his eyes, then took a better look upon Francis nudging him. "You didn't, right?"

Alfred laughed, "No. We agreed not to until after we both get out, that is if we even last."

Okay dudes, I'm sorry this story is so damn short.. I feel as if I disappoint with the less than a thousand word chapters.

Though I didn't really get to finish sooner than I wanted to, I swear I will try to finish this thing faster than I am going. Yeah! Three thousand words!

Oh, and excuse my French, but I really fucking suck ass at writing some countries. Sorry bout that.

Review=Love. Remember that. xD