A hetalia Christmas Carol

chapter 2: the ghost of Christmas past

When Arthur awoke it was midnight. At first he thought he had slept through and entire day but he then remembered Allister and his message. He sat up from his bed and decided to wait for the first spirit. Running his thin fingers through his greying blonde hair. Just the hand hit one on his clock the curtains flailed and there standing before him was his youngest son Matthew the ghost of Christmas past...

He looked just as Arthur had last saw him only slightly older and was in much classier clothing however as he went to greet the boy something held him frozen in his tracks. His eyes, Matthews's eyes were not the shy but beaming blueish purple he remembered they were blank glowing white orbs.

"M-Matthew? Are you the-"

"Ghost of Christmas past? Yes." Matthew spoke in his same sweet and soft tone. He walked quietly toward him and placed a hand on Arthur heart. There was gentle glow of light and then vanished as Matthew pulled his hand away.

"You can fly now" he said. And without Arthur's control he flew out the window following his son back through time. They flew through a country side one Arthur knew very well. He saw his old school, his friends, and other landmarks he knew as a young lad. Seeing these things Arthur began to sob as memories returned to him. Matthew took the crying man into the school. There he sees the younger him alone during the Christmas holidays. The scene changes slightly and past Arthur got a little older it repeated until finally it stopped as a boy Arthur recognized as his brother Allister ran into the room. "I've come to take you home brother" Allister says "father is a lot better now he says you can come home" he continued Arthur smiled sadly as he saw the brothers embrace.

"Allister died sev-"Arthur was interrupted

"Seven years ago I know" Matthew said quietly. He then led Arthur out of the school and to a nice home there he was greeted with a very familiar scene. All in front of a nice fire place was his family. Himself just nearing thirty years old sitting on a couch with a broken arm watching as a younger version of his eldest son Alfred play with the wooden soldiers he made by hand. Next to him was his ex-husband Francis holding the tiny baby Matthew in his arms who was suckling from bottle. Francis leaned over and whispered something into the younger Arthur's ear. "I'm glad we found them mon amour" Arthur said under his breath remembering those words like they were yesterday, a small smile curved on his face. The scene changed again this time they were at a party at none other than Antonio's place the man he had apprenticed. His smiled dropped he saw the younger version of him fighting with Francis in the kitchen he watched and Francis threw off the ring and stormed out of the building taking Matthew and Alfred with him. Matthew hated doing this to his father but it needed to be done.

"That was the day papa had, had enough with your greedy and unloving behaviour to him. He ended the marriage right there" The ghost said. Arthur looked broken, tears spilled from his eyes. The scene changed once more and there Arthur watched his younger self watching miserably as Francis was linked arm and arm with none other than his old childhood enemy.

"Stop it please!" Arthur begged "I want to go home!"

Matthew place a hand back on Arthur heart before hugging him tightly "good luck dad" he whispered his eyes went to their original self for only a moment. And in a flash of light Arthur was back home. He hurried into his bed and fell asleep quickly.