YAY first Hetalia fic!

Real quick, I know that it may not seem like this needs to be said, but people can be easily offended. No political views were put into this fic, none. No one is insinuating anything about any country in this fic. My partner and I took characters from a comic we liked and inserted them into our own plot, making them as in character as we could based on the comic. One character happens to have a very human moment of doubt and insecurities but this is in no way a reflection of how we feel about hte people of the country that he represents. I don't think I should have to say this, but this is just a precautionary measure so that no one get's offended or whatever.

That being said PLEASE enjoy this short but cute one-shot.

Canada watched as Russia left his home. He always felt a certain bit of fear around the cold, tall man. His stomach turned a little and he knew he would have to come to his decision soon. It seems, out of all the nations of the world, Russia was the only one who paid him any mind. And not only that, he seemed to want Canada, too, unlike everybody else.

To be wanted... that was all Canada could ever dream for. To have nations pay attention to him, to have them dote on him, to have them respect him, and not constantly forget who he was, like even his polar bear seemed to... Despite Russia's overall cold appearance, it was very heart warming, and was becoming increasingly better sounding every time he asked. It's not like Canada would need the USSR. He was a big country! He could take care of himself! But there, he'd have a real family.

Which reminded him, he should say his goodbyes to current family, the one who saw him as invisible.

Slowly, Matthew picked up the phone and dialed in a number, but as soon as he heard his brother's voice, he got embarrassed and slammed the phone down. "I can't do this!" Matthew exclaimed. "This is... this is hard. This is hard, but I should do it. I have to do it!" Holding the phone again, he thought about his plans and action, and finally, decided against it.

Instead, he'd visit his brother at his own land, in his own house, uninvited but for good reason he felt!

Answering the door a smile spread over America's face. He had a visitor!

"Hi BEAR!" He said, poking at Canada's polar bear friend. He completely ignored his brother at first in favor of the animal before seeming to just notice Matthew's presence.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Mnn," Canada gave a week smile, getting a better grip on Kumajiro in his arms, feet fidgeting a bit. "I thought I'd drop by and say hi, Alfred. Un-unless that's not alright, I'll go home, I promise!" His smile was cautious like an apology.

"Nonsense!" Alfred declared, eyes lighting up. "I needed someone to play baseball with now anyway, England won't stop moaning about 'abuse' or something like that."

"A-ah! England's here?" Canada took an immediate step back. He wanted to talk to Arthur as well, but he hadn't prepared for telling both Alfred and Arthur at the same time!

"Yeah, but not HERE here." Alfred said, motioning to his home. "He's just... hiding somewhere in the general area." He then looked around before motioning grandly for Matthew to enter. "COME IN! No need to hang around in the door way!"

Shyly, Matthew walked forth inside the home of America, looking around briefly before hesitantly starting. "Listen, Alfred. We need to talk..." The look in Matthew's ocean blue eyes was heavy and deep, which completely contrasted Alfred's carefree sky blue ones.

Alfred pouted a bit, like a child who'd been told to wait until after dinner to have his pie. Only, then he smiled, realizing that dinner was hamburgers!

"Ok!" He said after what seemed to be careful consideration. "We can talk while we play catch! You need more practice!" He then grabbed Canada's hand with the purpose of leading him to the backyard.

"He-hey! Hey! I never agreed to... t-to this! Alfred!" Matthew cried out, being pulled into the back, Kumajiro staying inside to keep cool (and avoid being hit with a baseball.) Oh, and America's backyard was amazing, just as he was. Was that the grand canyon? And Yellowstone Park? They were such amazing features to behold. "He-heeey, Alfred, this is serious!" He couldn't help but feel depressed in all of this majesty, but, remarkably at the same time, cheered up by Alfred's immaturity. Strange.

"I know!" America said, picking up his own mitt, which had been abandoned after Arthur had run off and he was left to find himself a new playmate. "You're super slow!" He nodded toward the other glove a little ways away that had been meant for England. "Come on!"

Being talked into doing what America asked of him, Canada was use to. However, saying 'no' was a tad bit harder. "Okay..." Reaching down, he grabbed the mitt and slipped his hand into it. But looking at Alfred there before him, his guard was down. He was just so carefree and happy! He should have just left this speech to the phone. How was he supposed to say these things while playing catch?

"Ready!?" Alfred called, but before Matthew could even get a word out he threw the baseball with expert motions.

"KAAAHCK!" The baseball dug its way into Matthew's stomach, making the poor nation double over.

Alfred pouted, looking almost insulted. "You're supposed to catch it!" He cried, sounding a lot like a patient parent trying to teach a child how to ride a bike.

"N'nn, too fast....!" Canada gasped for air. Slowly, he grabbed the baseball, and hurled it back at Alfred at a steady pace.

Alfred had to dive a little to catch it, but quickly took a throwing stance again and chucked it. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Ack!" Matthew winced when it hit his shoulder, but he picked it back up with his stronger arm and threw the ball back. "I'm, I'm kind of leaving, America."

Alfred didn't even bother trying to catch the ball, but just let it fall to the grass as he looked at Matthew with confusion. "Leaving? but you just got here! And didn't you want to talk to me about something?"

Upon seeing Alfred's innocent nature, Matthew's cheeks heated up with... embarrassment? Shame? It hurt though to see him like that, and, and that's not even what he meant. "N-no, America. I'm... I'm leaving our family. Ivan ... he really wants me to be one with him."

Alfred bent down to pick the ball up, not really knowing what to think about that statement. He tossed the ball up and down in his hand a moment before lightly throwing it Matthew's way. "Why?"

This time, Matthew actually caught Alfred's ball. Looking away from his light blue, suddenly more serious eyes, Mathew found himself staring at the old stitches of the torn up baseball. He tossed it back at Alfred, not really paying attention if he threw it in his direction or not. "Ivan there- he really wants me. Plus, we have a lot in common if you think about it... N-nobody in the world really knows how it is to live in our climate. And... and I don't know. It would, j-j-just be nice, eh?" Suddenly he felt very self conscious.

Alfred's brows knitted up in a look that showed he didn't understand. And he didn't. No one really wanted to be one with Russia, not even the people who all ready were. He caught the slow moving ball, but didn't throw it back this time. "But... why?" Matthew's explanation wasn't enough and didn't make sense. Canada was a beautiful place, and his people were so easy to get along with. Why would anyone want to change that?

Feeling embarrassed, and impatient, Canada blurted it. "Because he actually sees me! Not through me, not over me, but at me! I-Ivan never mistakes me for you... And he's always asking me to join him... And- And" Feeling frustrated, and a little winded, Matthew looked up, almost pleafully at Alfred. "You can't understand because you're so great, Alfred! You're America! You're not invisible!"

Alfred looked down, letting the information process before looking back up at Matthew with a determined look. "Ivan doesn't see you as special." He said, throwing the ball once more with the same power as before. "He only sees you because he wants to rule the world. That's how he is."

This time, the ball seemed to strike Matthew where his heart was, and hard, as well as America's cold, harsh words. He let the ball drop but this time, he didn't feel like picking it up again and throwing it. Instead, he stood there rubbing his chest with his mitted hand, looking at Alfred as though he'd cry, but he knew he wouldn't. Countries as big as him don't cry. "Wh-who cares, eh? M-maybe he should." That was his own curve ball.

America looked offended. "F-fine! I don't care what you do with YOURself, but I'm not gonna let him smother ME! I'm gonna continue to be free, even when things do look bad because I'm stronger than that! I'm America!"

Canada looked on sadly at his soon to be ex-brother, cheeks all red and flustered. He knew this wasn't going to be easy to tell him. He was just glad he didn't have to tell him and England at the same time. Who knows how England was going to take it... "I'm... I'm sorry, American-san.... I should leave," And with that, Canada took the mitt off and turned his back on the superpower of the world.

Alfred huffed out his nose, lips pursed together much too tightly to let the breath out. He was angry, furious! But not because Canada was leaving him, but because his brother seemed to be giving up much too easily.

Taking off his own mitt and throwing it down he chased after his laid back counter-part, his double.

"Why would you do that!?" He yelled, catching up and pulling on the back of Matthew's shirt. "Why would you join Russia!? He'll change you! And not for the good!"

Matthew stilled, and for a moment, attempted to get out of Alfred's grip, lightly swapping his hand on his brother's to get him to let go, but the grip stayed the same. "You don't know that! He promised! I'll be magnificent! You- you just can't see past your own nose, Alfred! You never could...."

"I could see you!" He said, looking rather angry now. "I could always see you and I don't want to see you end up like Russia! He's cold, and I don't care what the hell kind of climate you live in you're not cold!"

Their eyes stuck together in the moment of rejections. Matthew finally turned to face him, and wincing, he whispered. "You don't, though.... I mean maybe you do, sometimes.... but.... Around you... around you, England, and France especially.... You're all my family... But I'm never there! I wait, and I wait, and I wait, to hope maybe one of you will see me but ... I guess, I guess it's just hard to be seen when you're Canada, especially around everybody so much more noticeable... I mean... y-you see me now but... you'd never think about me on your own and if anybody else was here......" His eyes were trailing down by now as he blabbed more and more those harsh feelings building up inside. "I want to be as great as you, America. But I'll never be able to in your shadow."

America shook his head, holding onto Matthew's sweater tighter. "I see you ALL the time! I might not always acknowledge you but I ALWAYS see you. And If I ever see you become like Ivan I-...." He trailed off. "It wouldn't be right to lose a member of the family to him. He couldn't take care of you. We can."

Matthew's eyes were heavy on the floor. His hands rose slowly to Alfred's bomber jacket and clung onto them, looking for some sort of message or comfort through the leather. If Alfred had noticed him this whole time then why did it feel so bad when he wouldn't acknowledge him..? These questions were hot and painful inside.

Alfred immediately hugged Matthew, having no problem with overly affectionate gestures, though he didn't feel like this was one. It was just... affectionate, for someone who needed it and for someone that Alfred really wanted to hold on to and, for a moment, Matthew merely nuzzled his face into Alfred's shoulder, feeling as though he really needed it. And then, in a sudden rush of real emotion, all the emotion that had been piling up over the past hundreds of years, leaked. Forcefully, he pulled his arms around the back of Alfred's neck, wanting so desperately to be seen, and not be so damn invisible... to even his dear America.

Alfred held on tighter, feeling the need and wanting to give. It was like, maybe he really didn't see Canada. But he would now, he made a silent promise to always see Matthew first, no matter what.

After a moment of silent affection he smiled and said, "I like hanging out with you."

Face red and moist, Matthew couldn't help but smile, chest swelling up a bit. "I'm... I'm glad, eh? S-sorry 'bout all of this," He sniffed and shook his head into the warm jacket and pulled apart.

Alfred was wearing a care-free look again, saying in a smooth and once more happy tone, "You don't complain nearly as much as England and France. Though we do still need to work on your catching."

At that, Matthew couldn't help but give a small laugh. "Y-you really do have a one track mind, eh, America?" Smile falling a more sincere one, his head lowered. "Thanks, eh?"

Alfred smiled wider, saying, "No problem! At least you don't THROW like a girl." He laughed and patted Matthew's shoulder, much happier now that Matthew would be staying.

Matthew's smile warmed and he was about to say something when,

"Ah, Alfred. You've got a visitor?" In came England, wiping his hands dry with a kitchen hand towel, until he noticed the atmosphere in the room. "Ah-ahhh.. I'll go finish making dinner..."

Matthew's face reddened even more while he looked onward in the direction Arthur went. "D-do you think he noticed me?"

"He HAD to have." America said, waving a hand. "And if he didn't then he noticed your aura of awesome." Alfred leaned forward then the whisper in Matthew's ear. "Arthur throws like a little girl." He pulled back to laugh. "I'm always chasing his throws around."

The Canadian stared in awe as America said this, watching as he can be so confident and happy all the time, and slowly, a large smile crept over his face. Until he remembered, "Wait, did he say he was cooking?" Not that America would suffer from taste-bud injury, he was sure, but poor Matthew!

Alfred's smile quickly faded and he gave Matthew a blank stare for a moment. That WASN'T good was it?

"Dinner's ready!" Arthur called in a sing-song voice as something... very Englandy came from the kitchen smelling a tad bit foul.

"Th-thanks, America-san, but I think I'll be going home now!" Matthew laughed, waving, and slowly hovered away towards the front door.

"NODON'TGO!" America quickly called, throwing himself at Canada like some desperate, starving animal.

Smiling, Arthur came out to the front to see America holding on desperately to Canada. Snapping, England yelled, "Come back here and eat my food I worked so hard to make! It's GOOD!"

Matthew shifted views from Arthur, slowly to Alfred, and smiled. This dysfunctional mess was his family. And, if he looked at it from a stance that, yeah, they do care then... it was worth it. Especially if Alfred was going to stay by his side and help him through tormentish food. If France was here, he could fix this, but he wasn't and it was still fine.

Matthew's hand slipped down to Alfred's weaving his fingers between the American's. "We're strong, eh?"

America gave a toothy grin, holding the other's tightly as well. "Very strong!"

Together the two walked back into the dining area where Arthur promptly complained that it was going to get cold. The whole time, the two neighboring nations kept smiling brightly to each other, making the taste of Arthur's cooking almost unnoticeable.

This fic was cowritten and posted on deviantART by .com/

Canada/England: TheSmallestInvader

America: MEC

If you liked, leave a review, if not... um... leave a review anyway. ^^