Summary- For the better part of his life Alfred has had the knowledge that his big brother was watching over him and his twin Matthew; always caring for them. But when tragedy strikes, Alfred is left to question how good he really knew his big brother. hints of Fruk and brotherly USUK and brotherly CANADA/UK

I do not own Hetalia ;)

A Big Brother Protects

He never saw it coming.

The day everything changed, was perfectly normal.

He truly didn't possess any form of intuition, he would like to say that the moment he stepped through the door he felt that something was wrong. But he didn't, just like always, He and Matthew met just before the front door, just like always he would be telling some exciting story and his twin would listen attentively. Just like always, the house smelled like freshly made tea, just like always Alfred announced their presence by yelling his 'hello' really loud, so it was echoing through the house, telling all inside that the hero had returned home.

Just like always, they had expected Arthur to be waiting for them.

That day when the world came crashing down on them was like any other.

The only thing that seemed out of the ordinary was a broken tea cup.

They had been chatting and talking, Alfred himself was always hungry, so he went to the refrigerator and took out a much deserved snack, all the while happily thinking about the morning's events and how annoying it was that Arthur had practically forced them to work this summer, so in an hour they had to report at their jobs. Time he could've spend with Kiku.

Out of the blue Matthew knelt on the floor and Alfred, the always curious one, knelt to see what was so interesting.

A broken tea cup.

The spilled tea a puddle around it.

Even then, Alfred didn't expect much of it, he didn't suddenly get a bad feeling in his stomach, he didn't suddenly felt apprehensive. Really, the only thing that was going through his mind was how he could tease Arthur about leaving such a mess in the kitchen.

But Matthew seemed worried, the way he stared at the teacup, the way he suddenly looked around, his eyebrows frowned. To this day, Alfred doesn't understand why Matthew had felt something was wrong, how Matthew had seen that something wasn't right; why would the normally overly obsessive, protective, neat-freak Arthur break a cup and not clean it up?

There were a million answers to that question, but Matthew seemed to sense that something was amiss. Alfred could hear the worried undertone in Matthew's voice when he started calling for Arthur.

Even then, after the sixth time Matthew had called their brothers name, the one more panicked than the other, Alfred still didn't worry. A broken teacup, that wasn't a reason for panic, was it?

"What's wrong with you, Matthew? Artie's probably grocer-"

That's when his eyes landed on the substance that was smeared on the white door handle, it took him a moment to process, but finally he recognized it.

Blood.

And in one second, all Alfred's calm disappeared, leaving only a blinding panic.

He was shocked, horrified but mostly sad when he saw the crazed look of his attacker.

Alfred met Arthur when he was seven years old.

He would never forget that first meeting; How blue had met green and how his father had run up to the boy, embracing him tightly, how the strange boy -who was supposed to be his new big brother- didn't seem all that special to Alfred. He hadn't understood why their little family needed another addition. The four of them had always been a happy family; him, his twin Matthew, his mommy and his daddy.

No, at that time, The only thing Alfred found special about the new addition in his family were his large eyebrows and his ability to get all of his father's attention. The weeks that followed hadn't changed Alfred's mind about the intruder; the sixteen year old boy spoke strange, burned the entire kitchen while attempting to cook and continued to take most of his father's time away. But the absolute worst thing Alfred found the stranger to do was that he made his mommy unhappy.

It had been at dinnertime when Alfred finally became fed up with the stranger, and blurted, right there at the dinner table, those words;

Why is he even here? I hate him! can't he go back to where he came from?

Then he had turned to Arthur, and shouted right into his face;

Don't you have an family of your own to go back too?

His twin brother had been so shocked he had started to cry, all the while screaming that Alfred was really mean.

He hadn't cared

His mother had shot him a look he had never been able to decipher, one between relief and sheer horror.

He hadn't cared

His father had been unbelievably angry, telling him that Arthur was their family, his son, their brother.

He hadn't cared

No, when the whole dining table became a mess of angry and sad words, shouts, whispers, prayers, he hadn't cared.

He had been too busy looking in those ever green eyes, filled with sadness, regret and self-loathing. Looking at the tears streaming down those cheeks.

Looking at those lips, which kept mouthing the same words, over and over again.

I'm sorry

That had been the first time Alfred ever wanted to punch himself. Months afterwards, Alfred heard from his brother that Arthur had wanted to leave that very night but that their Daddy had stopped him, Matthew had said that Arthur had been determent to walk away and he had also told Alfred that they were lucky dad had been strong enough to force Arthur to stay.

Alfred reluctantly agreed.

He tried to talk him out of it, but that only seemed to edge the attacker on; the scars ran so deep, hatred all consuming

Alfred had started to love Arthur when he was seven-and-a-half years old.

Not even a half year after the boy had come to live with them, Alfred had admitted to himself that he never wanted his other brother to leave. The boy seemed to care about them a lot, even though Alfred could be mean and although Arthur could yell sometimes, both Matthew and Alfred could feel that their older brother cared a lot about them.

It was a nice feeling, to receive such unconditional love from somebody you had just known a half year.

Yes, Alfred realized as he and Arthur and Matthew played a funny game named 'Football' (which actually meant 'soccer') with him, every Friday night on the playground, a little while from their house.

As all his classmates stared in admiration at his big brother, when he dropped them off on his scooter, Matthew on the front, Alfred in the back. Laughing and waving them off.

As Alfred, scared of all the unfamiliar sounds and sights in his room, bolted through the house, terribly afraid. He would always go to his brother's room who would never be angry at him for waking him; he would simply move the covers of his bed and invite him inside. Curled up in his big brother's bed, Alfred could safely close his eyes again.

As Arthur, with an enthusiasm nobody could imitate, read him the most magical fairy tales 'till deep into the night. Arthur's eyes shining as he told Alfred that every word was true.

He loved his big brother.

He tried to run, but he was not fast enough

Alfred had started to depend on Arthur when he was nine years old.

Arthur always helped them when they were in trouble, when Matthew had trouble with bullies and when Alfred had trouble with authority figures.

When they called for his help, he would be there.

Just like he was there, on that rainy Saturday evening in his nice black suit, holding both Alfred's own and Matthew's hand, squeezing them reassuringly when he and his twin could only sob loudly as their parents slowly disappeared into the ground.

After that day, Arthur did everything to ensure that they would get an happy childhood, as an eighteen year old he arranged them to be legally in his care (to this day Alfred still doesn't know how the green eyed boy had pulled that off), preventing them to be taken apart in foster care. Knowing that bills had to be paid, Arthur even gave up his own future in exchange for theirs.

He tried to fight, but he wasn't strong enough

Alfred figured out that Arthur was different at ten.

Matthew had known all along, apparently they had been told all about it when Arthur just arrived, but back then, Alfred had been angry and he hadn't been paying much attention.

When Alfred asked, Arthur had laughed, asking what had given him away; The accent? His behaviour? The incredibly rude cashier who had called him a 'stupid brit'.

Alfred was ashamed to admit it was the last one.

They had sat together, all three of them, and Arthur told them all about the country he came from, the way he told about his home country was beautiful, his eyes shone and his face lit up, just like when he would tell them those magical fairy tale. Alfred hadn't gotten it and he could see his brother hadn't too; if it had been so wonderful there, why had he left? Why had he left all that behind?

Arthur simply smiled and told them that he came to America to be a big brother.

And although Alfred knew Arthur was speaking the truth, he couldn't help but feel there was more to it.

Especially when he saw the sad look on his brother's face.

The only thing he didn't do was beg; he wouldn't beg… Well, not for his own life anyway.

Alfred understood that Arthur would do anything for them at twelve.

"Please, Arthur consider my offer!"

"No."

"This is the chance you been looking for! Think rationally!"

"I am, with my current job and the money my father left, Alfred and Matthew will be able to get a full education-"

"But what about you? You had dreams, don't you remember? You were so happy when you came here!"

"I've got responsibilities now, Gilbert!"

"Can't you just stick them in a-"

"No!"

"I don't get you Arthur! You finally got a chance to get out this miserable excuse for a life and you just won't take it! Just come with me! We'll be able to travel the world, like we always wanted!"

"Meanwhile, Alfred and Matthew can just take care of their own? Is that it? I will not leave my brothers!"

"They're not even your real brothers!"

"GILBERT!"

"Well, It's true isn't it? Half-brothers at most, conceived by the very prick that left you and your REAL mother!"

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? Insulting my brother? Telling me my life had no worth? You have absolutely NO right!"

"Am I wrong? Did you enjoy being a personal punching bag of your mother's boyfriends? Did you enjoy interacting with Ivan? Or being Francis's personal whor-"

"Gilbert, I'm warning you, leave Francis out of this…"

"But…!"

"Don't say his name anymore, please."

…

"…I…I just don't get it."

"yes," a sigh "I know you don't."

"So you really love them, don't you? Enough to throw away the future you've been craving since you were eight."

"I guess I do."

It was the middle of the night, Arthur thought they were sound asleep in their room. But they weren't, they were just behind the door.

Alfred and Matthew had heard everything.

And when the knife pierced his skin, embedded it's cold steel into his stomach, he was beyond terrified that his brothers would walk in on that exact moment.

At thirteen, Alfred decided Arthur had a bad taste in friends

Matthias.

Arthur had never really took his friends home until Matthias. Alfred didn't know what changed but one day he was there, sitting by the kitchen table when Matthew and himself came out of school. He introduced himself.

Matthias.

The absolute and total opposite of Arthur in every single way imaginable, Alfred had no idea how such different people could become friends but it had happened (years later Alfred found out one thing they had in common; they loved to drink).

Arthur liked him, laughed around him and let him come over whenever he wanted.

Matthew liked him too, he liked the man's jokes and funny stories, and the fact that he was a policeman. Matthew found this terribly exciting.

Alfred absolutely hated Matthias. It was not that the man was mean to him, that he offended him or even because the man had a distaste for hamburgers (who doesn't like hamburgers? It just wasn't natural!).

No, little Alfred was jealous.

Matthias was a jerk

A phony

A fake

And it took three months, fifty candied apples, two baseball bats, three 'serious' talks with Arthur, Matthew's pleading eyes, Matthias's pleading eyes and for Arthur to kick Matthias between the legs (because Matthias had said something mean) for Alfred to change his mind.

Because Matthias sure was persistent.

Especially when it came to Arthur.

"Run."

He didn't know the exact reason why he said It, but the fact remained that he didn't regret saying that one word.

Alfred decided that Arthur was embarrassing at fourteen.

Saying things like cheerio and blimey wasn't cool and certainly wasn't something Alfred wanted his fellow classmates to hear. No, It wasn't him, or that he was being a 'bloody teenager' it REALLY was Arthur.

For instance when Alfred wanted a simple house party in honour of him getting a cute girlfriend. The Briton just looked at him and told him that, sure, Alfred could have a house party, If he didn't mind that Arthur himself would wander around butt naked, telling everybody about the times he wetted his bed and ultimately calling the police to complain about the noise, thus having the party broken up.

Or the time when several of his friends came over and Arthur was busy putting out the fire in the kitchen, the whole house smelling like burned and rotten eggs

Or the time he just kicked Alfred OUT OF BED at freaking ELEVEN in the MORNING because Matthew had let it slip Alfred was failing literature, which prompted many tutoring sessions with Arthur himself.

Or the time Arthur had gotten really drunk with some colleagues, and they all started to sing and dance in the middle of the street. Of course Alfred and his friends just then walking past.

Neither did he appreciate Arthur cheering him on at his first football game (the American football) his voice loud and clear, yelling things like 'Go Alfred, M'boy!', 'That not right! Judge! Give him red!' and his least favourite; 'DON'T MATTER YOU LOST, ALFIE! YOU'RE STILL MY HERO!'

No, Alfred certainly didn't appreciate Arthur coming to his first game…

…Except that he did.

Pain took over his body before it became completely numb, green eyes staring blankly ahead

And at the ripe age of fifteen, Alfred decided that Arthur was a midget.

Arthur had always been Matthew's and Alfred's 'big brother' but Alfred began to realize that his brother wasn't so 'big' at all. It had happened when the three of them had gone shopping for new clothes. Arthur in the lead and the two twins dutifully following, now, off course Alfred had said something stupid or rude (like he did so many times) and Arthur whirled around to scold him. Alfred had steeled himself for the lecture that would rain down on him and Matthew rolled his eyes at him for his stupid remark. Well, when Arthur had been busy chewing him out, telling him to look at him when he was talking, Alfred had noticed something;

He had to look down

Both Alfred and Matthew were healthy young boys, and as many healthy young boys there was a time when you shot up in length in a short period of time. That summer vacation, both had done just that; though Matthew remained the shorter of the two, and Alfred was proud to be the tallest…

But there, standing in the middle of the road carrying all kinds of bags filled with new clothes…

Alfred realised that both Matthew and him had outgrown their older brother.

Furthermore, There really weren't many (adult) people who seemed to be shorter than Arthur.

Thus Arthur was named a midget.

And Alfred was yelled at again.

His fingers grabbed the pendant that was hanging around his neck.

When he was sixteen, Alfred crowned Arthur 'best big brother in the world'.

It had all started with Kiku, the foreign exchange student.

With his glossy black hair, his petite figure, his soft full lips… Yes it had all started when Alfred had first caught sight of the Japanese beauty, because with all off Kiku's gentleness and beauty one thing definitely stood out;

Kiku wasn't a girl, and Alfred, for reasons unknown, was attracted to him. A lot. More than he had ever been attracted to anyone in his entire life. Now, this really didn't make very much sense to Alfred; he had been quite convinced that he liked girls.

But, one thing led to another and without the both of them really knowing what the hell happened, they were already half-naked behind a bush in a public park, police handcuffing them and being told that they were being charged with indecent exposer.

They were mocked and yelled at, manhandled in the car (Alfred had been sure to keep Kiku as much as possible out of harm's way). It seemed that the policemen who had taken them in had a real problem with their activities (Translate; they were homophobes), and without much reason too, they were locked up in a little cell situated in the police station and told that they had to either be bailed out or could spent the following two nights in the cold cell.

It took Arthur only ten minutes to arrive, out-of breath, red faced and very, very pissed off.

Yes, Alfred had never seen Arthur as furious as he was at that very moment and for a second he had been truly afraid he had made a mistake in calling his brother. But as second later, Alfred realized that Arthur wasn't angry at them.

The Briton had started off calm, asking the officers that had escorted him to the cell (and had taken them in) why they had deemed it necessary to lock-up two underage boys in a cell for criminals, rapists and killers. The voice had send shivers down Alfred's and Kiku's spines and they could clearly see the two officers becoming very, very uncomfortable.

When their answer wasn't very satisfying, Arthur had absolutely lost it.

Lost. It.

Alfred had never, ever, seen Arthur as terrifying as he had seen him then. Even though the two other policemen were at least a head taller, a lot more muscled and had easy access to a gun, they seemed to be scared shitless. And who could really blame them? Arthur was practically spewing fire. He told them (loudly) he wanted to see the one in charge. He would sue them, the police station, the whole fucking state if the two of them (Alfred and Kiku) weren't released immediately.

Shocked on by all the ruckus and yelling, the head of the department came and with many apologies (because they really didn't want to get sued), opened the cell door. Kiku and Alfred were free again.

Arthur grabbed both their hands in his, one dragging Kiku and the other Alfred, and without another word marched straight out of the building and into his car.

The car ride was made in silence, Kiku was dropped off and far sooner than Alfred had hoped, they were already in their living room, a cold cup of tea on the coffee-table and a discarded paper on the sofa; Arthur must've enjoyed one of those few moments for himself when the phone had rang. Matthew wasn't there, spending the weekend with one of his friends. Alfred took a seat on the sofa, and declined Arthur's offer to make tea, still extremely nervous and scared what Arthur was going to say about the nights events.

A few moments later, A steaming cup of coffee was put in front of him with a small 'tap' and Arthur, teacup in hand, took a seat next to him. Then Arthur opened his mouth and Alfred was convinced he was going to get it now, Arthur had never been lenient about breaking the rules and he had just been picked up from a police station… for indecent exposure… with a boy…

"I noticed a bruise, are you okay, Alfred?"

No yelling? No angry words? Not even a speck of irritation in his voice?

Who was this man and what had he done with his brother?

"I-I'm okay…" Alfred told Arthur "A-aren't you mad at me?"

Soft, warm fingers had lifted a lock of his hair so green eyes could inspect the bruise on his forehead, surprisingly gentle, those same fingers brushed past the bruise, inspecting if Alfred really was okay.

"I'm not mad at you, the police should've just picked you up and escort you to my doorstep, instead they made you and Kiku spent time in a cell." Those fingers retreated, but green eyes were still observing him intently "That wasn't right."

"But w-what about…the reason I was a-arrested…w-what about…Kiku?" Alfred wended off his gaze, not able to look the older man in the eye.

"…Was this the first time?" Arthur asked, both knowing what he meant "It was, wasn't it?"

"Yes, I-I was just, just…" Alfred voice broke off, not knowing how to continue, still looking down at his feet.

"Confused? Scared?" Arthur guessed "It's okay Alfred, you didn't do anything wrong."

Alfred couldn't believe his ears, how could Arthur just accept this. When Alfred had been little, he had often heard from his father how wrong it was to love someone from the same gender "But don't you think it's wrong? Kiku is a boy! A boy! Doesn't that make me… you know… gay?"

"What it means or makes you is entirely up to you, Alfred, whether this is a faze, a crush or the way you've been born is for you to decide, nobody else, not those policemen nor me…" Arthur signed "But I want you to know… It isn't wrong, it will never be wrong, it won't change anything for me and I know your brother wouldn't mind either."

"But I'll be…" His vision blurred, a second later Alfred found himself in a tight embrace. Arthur having grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down, Alfred slightly bent because of their height difference (even when they were sitting down) head now in the crook of the others shoulder.

It felt good, safe, loved.

"You'll be different. There's nothing wrong with that" Arthur whispered in his ear "but I'm not going to lie, it will not make your life easier, there will always be those people who won't accept you… If you really are gay, and when this happens… I want you to know you can always turn to me… I'm your big brother after all… and I'll always protect you"

A chocked sob "Arthur…"

"Besides," Arthur untangled himself and grinned up at him "You're not the only one who misbehaved in their teen years."

At that moment Alfred decided that although Arthur could be controlling, temperamentfull and embarrassingly polite, he was still the best older brother in the world.

In the end, he had let a good life… He could be proud…

At seventeen, Alfred was sick of Arthur's overly protective attitude.

At four in the morning, Alfred stumbled into the house. He had just come from a wild party which had been hosted by one of his friends who seemed to have an unlimited supply of alcohol in his basement. Needless to say, they had all become pretty plastered but although Alfred's night had started really good, he was now drunk, cold and in a very sore mood; he had said some pretty stupid things because of the high alcohol percentage in his blood and had therefor pissed his boyfriend off, like, a whole lot. So no, the night hadn't ended well, neither did he appreciate his bike being stolen; which meant he had to walk the whole way to his home, in the cold winter weather.

Slightly cursing, Alfred barely managed to open the front door, first fumbling with the keys; not being able to find the right one. Finally, he stumbled into the living room, and almost immediately looked into angry green eyes.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Alfred groaned; Arthur. "p-piss off, B-bro… 'm tired"

"Are you drunk?" Arthur's voice sounded very angry, but Alfred really didn't have the energy to deal with Arthur right about now. So he pushed past Arthur and tried to walk to the stairs, so he could reach his room and crawl up and sleep, yes! sweet sleep.

Unfortunately, Arthur wasn't letting him off the hook; before Alfred had even made it past his brother he was grabbed by the sleeve. "Where do you think you're going? You can't even walk straight! I've been worrying all night, you didn't even call! And your brother, I practically had to force him to go to bed!"

Alfred tried a weak attempt to pull himself free, but Arthur was holding his sleeve quite tight. "P-piss off, Arthur," He repeated "I'm not in the mood."

Kiku had asked him where he'd been

Kiku's angry face when Alfred had insulted him.

Kiku's devastated expression when Alfred had been caught red-handed, in bed with two girls and a bottle of vodka. Alfred hadn't even been able to explain himself; his boyfriend had already run away.

The words Kiku had shouted into his face when he finally caught up.

Geez, he had fucked up big time.

Fucking awful night.

Wasn't at all in the mood for Arthur's whiny bitching.

But there Arthur continued to stand, in all his annoying glory; clad in the outfit he'd always weared for bed, an oversized shirt with French gibberish on it (Where had he even got that awful shirt?) and old baggy pyjama pants under it.

Lecturing him. Again.

"I don't care you're not in the mood, you'll damn well listen to me!"

Alfred had had it, all those rules and regulations, he was seventeen for god's sake! Arthur wasn't his father! He could damn well come to the house at any time he desired, he wasn't obligated to call in! He wasn't obligated to do anything Arthur demanded from him!

"Are you listening to me, Alfred?"

Tonight had been awful, he just wanted rest, peace. He wanted to rest his head on his cushion and just let unconsciousness take over. He wanted that tomorrow everything would be okay again, that he would be greeted by his boyfriend's loving kisses when he arrived at school, that his friends weren't angry at him a anymore, that everything from this night could've been forgotten! If Arthur could just get off his case this one time!

"Alfred?"

His teeth clenched

"Let. Me. Go." Alfred all but sneered

"Let you go? Have you any idea how much trouble you're in? Are you even listening to me? Alfred J. Jones, look at me when I'm talking! Do you even know-"

"JUST SHUT UP!" Alfred exploded, right into Arthur's face, who seemed surprised and unconsciously took a step back "For ONCE will you shut the hell up?"

"What are you…"

"Alfred, do this, don't do that! Can't you for once leave me the fuck alone?"

"Alfred! Stop shouting, I'm your older brother and you will listen to me!"

"NO!" Alfred screamed, alcohol feeding his anger, it boiled into him, he was just so sick of everything! He just wanted to go to bed for god's sake! Why must Arthur always ruin everything? He wildly pushed his arm free, forgetting someone half his size was gripping it, to absorbed into his anger to hear the shriek of fear and the crash of something breaking. He was free at last, that was all he cared about. "Who asked you to be my brother? What gives you the right to demand things from me? You're nothing! Just some stray MY father decided to let in-"

"ALFRED!" An incredibly angry and shocked voice broke him off "What the hell do you think you're doing?" and that's what snapped him out of his alcohol induced rage, Matthew's voice, which always sounded gentle and kind, was now furious.

What really seemed to sober him up instantly, however, was the sight he took in after that. Arthur was on the ground, head down, hair obscuring his eyes, a small trail of blood from the corner of his mouth to his chin. Broken cabinet behind him.

It took Alfred a second to realise that he was the one that'd done that.

And as Matthew kneeled by his big brother, cold gripped through him, what had he done? What had he said? What had even happened?
"…Arthur?"

A moment of silence, before Arthur's head lifted and Alfred was once again staring into those green eyes, but this time around, they were completely unreadable.

"This is what happens when you drink too much and you can't handle it" Arthur had slowly gotten up, waving Matthew away, who wanted to help him stand up "you lose control off yourself."

"Arthur, I'm so sor-" Alfred tried to speak, but he got interrupted.

"Your breathing seemed to be in order, before you started yelling anyway. But have you been vomiting?"

"What? No-"

"Are you abnormally cold?"

"The weather outside is cold, but no, me myself isn't-"

"Have you drunken any water before coming here?"

"Well, yeah, Toris made me-"

"Are you seeing double?"

"No-" Alfred flinched, Arthur had unexpectedly moved, and raised his hand. Alfred, although his older brother had never before raised a hand on either off them, thought he was getting a good slap. But no, the hand came to rest (almost gently) on his forehead and those green eyes took his blue ones in with immense concentration, almost if he was searching for something.

Three seconds passed, before Arthur withdrew and stepped back.

"You don't seem to have alcohol poisoning" He said "Drink a glass of water before you go to sleep, we don't want you to be dehydrated."

"Arthur…"

"We'll discuss this in the morning Alfred." his voice sounded colder than ever before "Now go to bed."

"But…"

"Go to bed, Alfred, I'm not repeating myself a third time."

They never spoke of that night again.

Because he knew…

Alfred was eighteen when he and Matthew graduated, Arthur watching them proudly.

Alfred was the more sociable one and Matthew the one who focused on his studies, but both of them had made it; Alfred just barely while Matthew was valedictorian, but still, they had both made it. They had a bright future in store for them, both already being accepted at a college and were blessed with friend, family and, in Alfred's case, also love.

Just before the ceremony began, and the hall was filling with parents and family members, Alfred and Kiku took a moment to look each other in the eye and share a short kiss.

"Oh Kiku! I see your parents! O and Arthur is there too!" Matthew informed them, while he was nervously peering through the curtain (he had a whole speech to do, he had every right to be nervous).

"Artie there already?"

"Yes, Matthias is there too! O my god! What if I mess up?"

"Don't worry drama queen, you'll do perfect."

And indeed he did, the ceremony went without a hitch, Matthew's speech went flawlessly, Alfred managed to not fall over his own legs while accepting his diploma and Arthur thoroughly embarrassed them by shouting praises at the top off his longs.

It was a good day, one that would be remembered for the rest of Alfred's life.

Because not long after that day, their little family of three was forever ripped apart.

Even if it wasn't much…he had made a difference

The day everything was perfectly normal, changed everything.

They both had started running through the house, shouting their brother's name. But, in the end, Alfred had been the first to notice the open bedroom door; a red handprint on it. He hadn't wasted a second, he had barged into the room, ready to protect his brother, just like his brother had protected them so many times before.

Arthur's body was lying face down on the ground, he was wearing that awful oversized shirt with the French gibberish on it, those baggy, ugly, pyjama pants. His hair was in complete disarray, his feet were bare.

He was soaked in blood.

He must've been peacefully drinking tea when some bastard had tried to attack him, Alfred knew Arthur must've fought like a lion. But the attacker had finally gotten to him in the bedroom.

He was too late.

Alfred led out a terrible sound, one which he had never known he could make, and fell on his knees. Quickly he grabbed his older brother and turned him around, so he was laying in Alfred's lap.

Bruises on his face, on his arms, and a gaping hole in the middle off his stomach.

His eyes were closed, but his chest was still moving up and down.

"ARTHUR!" Alfred pleaded "While he pressed on the wound "PLEASE WAKE UP! MATTHEW! MATTHEW! CALL 911!"

The blood continued flowing, soaking his hands, his clothes, everything. But he didn't care, he didn't care about anything but his green-eyed, stubborn, midget off a brother. His brother, who was slowly bleeding out, in front of his very eyes.

"Arthur! Come on, open those green eyes of yours, please!" Alfred choked in his desperate sobs, tears blurring his vision. When he heard a shocked gasp from the doorway, he looked up.

Matthew, completely frozen, eyes trained on Arthur, telephone in hand.

"Don't just stand there, CALL THEM!" Alfred screamed, before once again turning to the unmoving bundle in his lap "Arthur, Artie, come on! I'll never disobey you again, just open your eyes! Just…"

Alfred clenched his eyes shut, this couldn't been happening, it just couldn't.

Then he felt it, on his hands which were putting pressure on the wound.

A touch.

He opened his eyes and saw Arthurs hand resting on top off his, immediately Alfred moved his gaze to Arthur's face.

Green stared back at him.

"Arthur…?" Alfred swallowed "J-just hold on, okay? We'll get y-you out of this, M-Matthew's already calling a ambulance."

Arthur's mouth curled into a tiny smile, and Arthur's hand moved from his hands upwards, towards his face, where it lightly stroked his cheek.

"A-Alf…red."

Alfred quickly laid one of his hand on Arthur's preventing it from falling. "Don't talk, we'll get you safe again! Just stay with me, okay?"

"I…'m…N-not g-go…ing t-to make…it…Alfred" Arthur barely seemed to get out.

"Y-yes you are! Just hold tight! The ambulance will be here any second! Please, try to hold on!"

His tears were falling on the Briton's forehead, cleaning away some of the blood that had nestled there. "I-I love…you-ou…a-and y-your…b-brother…very m-much."

"No." He was shaking his head, feeling Arthur's heartbeat slowing "D-Don't you fucking dare… Y-you've c-come into m-my life and now you're damn well s-staying!"

Alfred desperately turned his gaze to his twin, who still stood in the doorway, telephone at his ear, tears streaming silently down his face. "MATTHEW, HELP ME! Help m-me s-stop the b-bleeding!"

But Matthew didn't move, it seemed that he already knew that it was too late, he kept standing there motionless, a desperate look on his face.

"MATTHEW! NOW! CO-"

Alfred looked down again, the hand on his cheek had twitched, and green eyes bored into his blue ones. "B-be n-nice…to…your…B-brother…A-Alfred J. J-Jones…" A ragged cough interrupted Arthur, his eyes were becoming duller and duller. "'M p-proud."

"ARTHUR!"

Arthur seemed to be looking far into the distance, seeming to remember something, something only he could see. "T-to think…I-I'll…b-be a-able…to s…s-see…y-you a-again…"

A lone tear fell but the smile stayed

"F-Francis…"

"ARTHUR!"

Yes, he had been too late, there was nothing he could do when Arthurs hand fell from his cheek, when Arthurs head lulled sideways and when all the life disappeared from those beautiful green eyes.

Nothing at all.

Alfred desperately clutched his big brother's body while he sobbed his heart out.

And he had been loved

Who was Francis? Why had Arthur moved in with their family? Why had his mother disliked the green eyed boy? Where exactly did Arthur come from? Why had he left that place?

Who had attacked him? Who had killed him?

Alfred didn't know the answer to any of these questions…

…but he was determent to find out.

Wasn't that all he could ever ask for?

End

Hope you liked it!

I'm still trying to decide wether I should leave it as a one-shot or make an actual story... I've got something in my mind... so I'll think about it ;)

Please review, seriously, they make me so damn happy!

Extra note; after reading your wonderful reviews (which were wonderfull BTW) It's come to my attention that I'm not very good at punctuation, I've tried to correct this as good as possible, but english isn't my native language, so I'm sure not all is correct; so I'll be looking for a beta. (A special thanks for kinoko for the tips he/she gave me)