This was actually supposed to be a one shot, but it expanded into a short story. I wrote this during Holy Week with the original idea of 'The Last Supper, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection' since I am Catholic and all that, but it ended up branching out. It also centers on the word, Nevermore. So here we have a familial AmeriCana story. Usually, Canada is portrayed as the 'weak' dependent one, so I did a role reversal. America is the one being dependent and I gave Canada a slightly stronger personality. They switch back to their proper 'roles' at the end of the fanfic. I do hope you enjoy.

Of course, I don't own Hetalia. I just wrote the plot. I used two songs as well, Garakuta-hime to Aposutorofu by and Sun which had come from the movie, Thumbelina.

Another short story created with a similar idea will definitely follow after this. It'll focus on the UK bros, Scotland and England. I love Scottie and I love England as well. So why not, chocnut.

NEVERMORE

I. Sun and The Moon

'Don't stare at me with those eyes;

The tears will start falling so don't make me cry.'

They were twins, but they were too different. Alfred was what everyone had called perfect. He was buzzing with life and energy; everyone gave him so much attention. They praised everything he did and babied him because he was the younger one of the twins. Matthew was different. He was quiet and meek. He was shy and soft spoken; everyone looked beyond him. He was always told to be more like Alfred and everyone expected him to take care of the little ball of life. He was the elder one of the twins and everyone expected as much. It was Matthew's job to be Alfred's shadow. No one noticed him other than Alfred.

Matthew was honestly okay with that, as a child. He loved the way Alfred looked at him with wide adoring eyes; the perfect picture of innocence. He loved the way Alfred always snuggled close to him and shared whatever he had been given by the elders. He liked how Alfred always called him 'Mattie'. Everyone treated him as an invisible wall, and Matthew was alright with that. Nothing mattered as long as he had his sweet, adoring Alfred. Alfred was his sun; bright and happy. He brought in life with his cheeky grin. To Alfred, Matthew was the moon; calm and gentle. He kept the darkness away with his gentle voice.

Alfred loved Matthew's company. He was a loud and friendly child and he does make a lot of friends. None of those friends of his could compare to his brother. Matthew, his big brother; his idol. Matthew was everything he wasn't, silent and thoughtful. Matthew never required him to speak. He just held his hands as they sat side by side and that's all it took for Alfred to feel as if everything was going to be fine.

He missed that.

Now both twelve and nearing their teens, Alfred had noticed Matthew had grown distant. He doesn't know when it began, but Matthew didn't like him. The calm and silent Matthew, his moon, was too far. And it is on days like this that Alfred sought out his presence. He always searched for Matthew. The yelling of their parents downstairs frayed his nerves. He missed those days when Matthew held his hand. He missed the Matthew that would simply smile his meek smile just to show him that everything will be alright.

Even if Matthew was beside him now, it felt as if he wasn't there.

The thought made him feel as if he were an alien. It made him feel disjointed and surreal. Paranoia. It felt as if everything around him was wrong. Alfred wished that it was all a bad dream. The sound of his parents continuously yelling made him nervous. Adding Matthew's distance, it didn't helped his frayed nerves at all. He needed Matthew. He wanted his big brother back. Was that too much to ask?

Wide, blue eyes glanced at the space between them.

Matthew's unsuspecting hand was there.

Alfred reached out, aiming to hold his brother's hand but Matthew's pale hand had disappeared from his field of vision all too quickly. He looked up dumbly, bright blue eyes meeting with Matthew's irritated purple gaze.

"What do you want?" Matthew snapped at him, voice still soft despite his tone.

Alfred shrunk back. "I just-" He fumbled for words, squirming. "I just want to hold your hand." He admitted. "Just like you used to do." He added. The look Matthew gave him sent shivers trickling down his spine. When was Matthew like this? He wanted his Mattie back, not this identical life form claiming to be him.

"No." Came the cold reply from Matthew. "I don't want anything to do with you. Not anymore. I am not your shadow. Walk on your own, Alfred!" Matthew was yelling now. It made Alfred's ears hurt. Matthew was yelling at him. His parents were yelling downstairs. Everything around him is heavy; suffocating. There were invisible hands around his neck that gripped his throat tightly. It was torture. He couldn't breathe.

Matthew was yelling at him, screaming word after word. He was filled with hot rage. Alfred tried to blink back his tears. His vision was blurry. All he could see were blobs of color as his eyes began to feel hot. He felt terrible. What had he done? Why did Mattie hate him? He didn't understand. He was the sun, right? No, wait. He was Matthew's sun, right? And Matthew was his moon.

"I hate you, Alfred, I hate you!"

Alfred began to sob as Matthew stormed away. He usually cried out loud since it meant having Matthew running to him. It meant Matthew would cradle him in his arms like a new born babe, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he ruffled his hair. But this time, there was no Matthew to hold him. There was no moon to cast a calming glow over the land. Alfred had resigned to crying silently.

The moon was gone. It won't ever glow again.

Nevermore, nevermore.

II. The Sun

'In your voice, you can't hide

Your heart's tender melody, kept deep inside.'

Matthew, now 27, didn't think he'd ever fly to New York for whatever reasons. Most especially for the reason of simply seeing Alfred. It's been fourteen years since he's last seen his twin's face. Fourteen years since his parents had divorced. Fourteen years since he had moved to Canada with his mother and became Matthew Williams. The thought left him uneasy. He'll be seeing Alfred again for the first time in almost fifteen years. He remembered making Alfred cry on a night so long ago. He wondered if Alfred hated him to bits.

Matthew bit his lip. He may have hated Alfred for a while, but a huge part of him just missed his twin. He can't stay mad at Alfred forever. It just wasn't in him. Alfred had once adored him. Alfred always made sure to remember him. Alfred always searched for him. Alfred had depended on him. Alfred was the only one who lovingly called him Mattie. Alfred was-no, is his sun. He was once Alfred's moon. He wondered, had Alfred found a different moon?

He landed in the airport and hailed a taxi cab. Matthew doesn't bother dropping by to see his father, or to create a leisure stop for rest or food in between. He headed straight for the hospital, suitcase in tow. He was in New York to see Alfred and that's where he was heading to as soon as he could. He spent the whole taxi ride disjointed from reality as he thought of the words he should be saying. What could he say? He had so much he wanted to tell Alfred, but at the same time, he felt like he didn't have anything to say. He hadn't even noticed he was at the hospital already until the cab driver had jolted him back to reality. Matthew hastily paid him and left without a word as he made his way into the stark white building.

It reeked of alcohol and all these whites and mint green scrubs hurt his eyes. When Matthew had made it to Alfred's floor in the patient ward, he was greeted by the nurse's station. He figured to ask for directions-he was only ever told the floor where his younger twin was staying. "E-excuse me." Matthew squeaked, trying to catch the attention of the petite nurse with an angelic face. The nurse looked up at him, lavender eyes locking with his as he cracked a pleasant smile. "Yes? Who are you looking for?" He had a gentle Finnish accent as he spoke.

Matthew wasted no time.

"Alfred F. Jones, please. He's my brother." The nurse nodded before motioning for him to follow. He said something to the other nurses stationed and he walked off, Matthew trailing behind him. He listened as the nurse chattered on and on. He only came to a stop when they had arrived at the door.

"Alfred's inside with Doctor Beilschmidt right now. When he leaves, you're free to go in." The nurse piped up after taking a quick peek into the room. He hurried back to the nurse's station. Matthew was left alone with his unsettled nerves. Nervous. He almost jumped when the door had swung open.

A blond in a doctor's coat exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Matthew could only assume that it was Alfred's attending physician. "Doctor Beilschmidt?" He called out. Beilschmidt was the name, right? He can't really tell. He knew he was correct though, when the doctor turned to face him.

"A relative, I assume?" He questioned, still holding his clipboard in his hands.

Matthew nodded. "Twin brother."

The doctor made a face that clearly sad 'ah, no wonder you two look almost identical'.

"How is he?" Matthew questioned, feeling the need to know of Alfred's state as soon as he could.

Doctor Beilschmidt hesitated. He tucked his clipboard under his arm.

"Alfred is….suffering from a terminal illness. Technically incurable." Doctor Beilschmidt was frank. It was the harsh truth and it does hurt like hell, but Matthew appreciated his honestly. It was a good warning to expect the worst. "It's shutting his system down slowly. The spinocerebellar degeneration is working quickly on Alfred. He can still move, but sadly, he doesn't have much control over his lower regions to stand without aid." He said with the shake of his head. "His passing is coming quickly. It's best to spend your moments with him as if it would be your last."

It made Matthew's heart crumble. He thanked the doctor and let himself into the room, leaving his suitcase by the door. The doctor's words echoed in his ears. The constant beeping of the machines attached to Alfred created a strange, flowing rhythm. The room was little but welcoming, but still too dreary to call it anything short of "homey".

In the middle was Alfred, laying down with a lot of contraptions hooked to him. Matthew smiled at his brother as a greeting.

"Mattie!" Came a joyful response as Alfred's face lit up. He was beaming a radiant smile and his arms were stretched out for a hug. He must be glad to see his older twin. No, wait. He was ecstatic to see Matthew again in the flesh. To see his moon again after not having seen him for nearly fifteen years.

Matthew came over to Alfred's side and enveloped his younger twin in a bear hug, arms wrapped tight around Alfred's frail frame. He feared that if he let go, Alfred would disappear. He was afraid that this was all a dream and that it would be over when he does. Everything he had thought of saying flew out the window because this was real. This was it. He had his sun in his arms. That was all that mattered.

Alfred began to cry.

"I'm so sorry I yelled at you like that fifteen years ago." Matthew apologized, hugging his twin closer as he began to ruffle Alfred's ash blond hair. "I guess I was just…" His voice trailed off. It didn't matter anymore. "You know what? It doesn't matter anymore. I'm here. With you." He said, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. Alfred was the first to let go.

"You are my moon, okay?" Alfred stated. He still had Matthew's shirt bunched up in his hands.

Matthew smiled at his twin.

"And you are my sun."

"Don't leave me anymore, Mattie."

Matthew kissed the top of Alfred's mop of blond hair as he caressed his twin's face. He didn't need words at this moment. Words can't even describe how glad he was to see Alfred again. He won't leave his side this time. He'll march on by Alfred's side. He'll make up for those lost days.

It was good to see the sun.

"Nevermore."

III. The Moon

'And although it's dark December,

Forever, I'll remember the Sun.'

Matthew didn't speak any words of praise. There was nothing that he could say that Alfred didn't already know of in the last years they had spent together side by side. He looked down at the podium, staring a blank page on a notebook. He shut it. He picked up the microphone and looked up, facing the sea of black. He opened his mouth and sang.

"Once there was the sun, bright and warm and wonderful…"

It was a song compromised of two verses, but it was the best way to describe Alfred without the excessive usage of words. Alfred's obnoxious laughter still rang in his ears, the ghost of his thin fingers still resting over his hand, and the shadow of his smiling often appeared in the corner of his eyes.

To Matthew, Alfred wasn't dead. Alfred was half his DNA. In those little atoms, Alfred was still present. Not in the flesh, but as a small particle of his life. It was in the same way he had been a part of Alfred as well. Twins, two halves that made one.

When the funeral service had ended, Matthew found himself at his father's house—the place where he spent his childhood with Alfred. He was in Alfred's room, a room they used to share in the past, and he browsed through the boxes of belongings, taking out items and recalling the memories attached to them while picturing a few fresher ones. Matthew went through everything. He already had picked out a few things to take with him; a photo of Alfred, his favorite cowboy hat, and a baseball glove by the time he had made it to the last box. It was filled with various science books and notebooks filled with various musings. Alfred had always been an astronomer.

The Canadian picked up a journal from the bottom of the pile and dusted it off. It must be filled with Alfred's musings again. All notebooks had scribbling about aliens, meteors, or of stars and the like. He was practically surprised when he flipped over the cover to see Alfred's childish scrawl on the page, narrating about something Matthew had done all those years ago.

He sat himself down on the dusty floor and began to read, page after page.

Alfred always talked about him. There are times wherein he did speak of something else, but he always mentioned him. The night passed by, and Matthew found himself still awake. He finished the last entry and shut the journal. Half way through, it had already been the years after the separation of their parents, and yet he still always thought of him, the moon.

"You wasted all these years thinking about me?" Matthew questioned out loud, in the empty, sordid room. It was almost as if he were expecting Alfred to appear out of nowhere, bound on the bed and enthusiastically say 'yes!'.

His voice had cracked as he squeaked.

He bit his lip.

For the first time, since Alfred's passing, he pushed his glasses up and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his blazer, the cloth dampening as it absorbed his salty tears. He smiled bitterly as he got up to his feet, brushing off the dust that clung to his clothes as the tears still streamed down his face. He picked up the items he had picked out and the journal. He'll be taking these things with him.

Matthew made his way to the door.

He stopped under the doorway and turned around, taking one last look at the room. It smelled of mothballs and dust. It looked like it had been abandoned for years, but it was the last he had of Alfred.

Matthew smiled at the room one last time, almost as if here were smiling at his twin and shut the door behind him as a word Alfred loved to use when it came to talking about sad things came into his mind.

Nevermore.

For some odd reason, it fit.

IV. The World

'Are you hearing my song?

The melody's been in my heart all along.'

The thunder rumbled.

A young boy screamed and jumped into a small cave just to seek comfort. His small figure shook as he hugged himself close. Purple eyes were brimming with tears. He had bit his lip in a vain effort to keep himself from crying. His resolve crumbled away when the thunder crashed once more and he screamed yet again. His whole body was down on the ground now, splayed out like a grace-less lizard. He began to cry, wailing as his head bobbed up and down as he wiped at his eyes with his fisted hands. He once had a companion, but he had lost him somewhere out in the forest. He didn't like the feeling of being alone. Maybe he'd never be found.

"Canada?"

He hiccuped and looked up, gaze following the direction from where the voice came from. The bush rustled and another small boy peeked at him, blue eyes wide with worry.

"Canada!"

The boy ran over to his side and gathered him into a hug. Canada hugged his brother close as he cried into his shoulder. "America! I thought you wouldn't find me!" He sobbed, bunching a handful of his brother's white outfit into his hand. He was relieved to see his brother again. He thought he really would stay lost and forgotten in the thick woods.

America laughed as he pulled them down on the ground, intending to sleep in the cave for the night. There was no longer any point in pushing forward. The night had fallen, leaving thick darkness all over the land. The skies were dark as well. From the sound of the thunder, it was definitely going to rain. Better to take shelter.

"I wouldn't leave you, silly. I'm the big brother! It's my duty to take care of you!" America said, beaming as he drew Canada closer, snuggling his nose into his brother's shaggy blond hair. He held him close for a moment or two, simply letting Canada cry his heart out. Eventually, he had quieted down to silent tears, and was eventually reduced to a hiccuping mess. "See? Big brother will always make it better!" He beamed at his precious brother. Canada merely pouted.

"Promise me you wouldn't leave me alone anymore, America." He said, violet eyes were looking entently at him, still glazed over with tears.

America laughed once more and ruffled his brother's hair. In a distant memory, he could recall a familiar memory of a man with shaggy hair that he may have once called a brother, sitting in an unfamiliar room with the gentle mechanical beeping filling the empty silence. His words mouthed out a promise that seemed all too familiar to him.

He spoke out loud, saying the words those lips had mouthed.

"Nevermore."