"I'm sorry, I must've misheard you," Feliciano said slowly. "But I could've sworn you said World War Two."
"Well, I'm pretty sure we met them in World War Two," Alfred said. "There were about five other guys in our troop during World War One."
Matthew kicked his brother again.
"But you're human," Ludwig said. "There's no way you two fought in World War Two." He turned to Arthur. "Are you sure it's them? Maybe their grandfathers were in your troop."
"We don't have any grandfathers," Matthew said.
"I thought you told me to shut up," Alfred said, offended.
"Yeah, because you need to shut up sometimes," Matthew responded.
"But why do you get to talk?"
"Because unlike you, I don't act like a five year old."
"I'm not five years old, Mattie!"
"How old are you, then?" Francis asked.
"Nineteen," Alfred answered, sticking his tongue out at Matthew. Matthew just rolled his eyes.
"You were seventeen during World War Two," Francis said, crossing his arms.
"So?" Alfred said. "Everyone ages." He said it as if it were obvious.
"I'm pretty sure humans age faster than that," Ivan said.
"You keep saying humans as if you aren't," Matthew said, changing the subject. "So what are you?"
"We will be the ones asking questions," Germany not-so-discreetly threatened. "Not you."
"Yeah, interrogation isn't really my thing," Alfred said. "I'm more of a 'punch them in the face' kind of guy."
"I will gladly punch you in the face," Ivan said happily.
"No, he's good," Matthew said. "I'll deal with him." He proceeded to kick his twin in the shin again.
"Would you stop!?" Alfred cried. "I swear you want to murder me!"
"That's actually not a bad idea right now."
"Not cool, Dude!"
"I think I know what I'm going to do tonight."
"I swear if you murder me, I'll haunt you until you die. Of death!"
"I thought you were afraid of ghosts."
"..."
"Exactly. Point for me!"
"Screw you."
Arthur cleared his throat. "Since we all agree it was you two in our troop, you might as well explain yourselves."
"Why should we?" Alfred retorted. "It seems obvious to me that you don't plan on sharing any time soon, so why should we?"
In all honesty, Alfred didn't even know how to explain himself. He didn't know why he didn't age. He didn't know why he felt bigger than his body. He didn't know why it was just Matthew and him, immortals among mortals.
But, then he realised something. "Arthur, you said you were 21 during World War Two. And Francis said he was 24. Are you still that age, or are you older now?"
Arthur stared at Alfred for a moment. Finally, he said, "I'm 23. Francis is 26."
"Funny," Matthew said, eyes looking distant. "We've all aged 2 years in 73 years."
"You both fought with the Canadian troops, right?" Francis asked. Matthew nodded. "So does that mean you're Canadian?"
"Not necessarily," Matthew said. "We have dual citizenship for both America and Canada. We just fought with the Canadians because they joined the war first. If the Americans joined before the Canadians, we would've fought with them."
Alfred's head was reeling. Maybe they were like them. But he's felt hope before, only to have it crushed. He didn't want it to happen again. But they recognised them, and they haven't aged any more than the twins did.
Finally, his curiosity got the best of him. Looking at the floor, he asked, "Are you immortal?"
The question caused everyone to stare at him. He refused to make eye contact with anyone.
"What do you define as immortal?" Arthur asked quietly.
"If someone shot you point-blank in the head, would you stay dead?" Alfred asked. "If someone burned you at the stake, would you still be alive when the fire died? If someone stabbed you, could you pull the blade out and keep fighting? If someone drugged you to the point of overdose, would you be able to snap out of the haze?" His hands were in fists while he glared at the ground. "If someone hanged you, would your neck heal when your body was taken down? If someone set off explosives at your feet, would you still be in one piece when the dust cleared? If someone held your head under the water, would you breathe when your head lifted up?"
He forced himself to stop. Matthew felt his brother's inner turmoil and tried to comfort him through their telepathic link.
The nations stared at Alfred, amazed. He had just described exactly what would happen if that happened to one of them.
"Yes," Arthur said quietly. "If that is what you define as immortal, then that's what we are." He bent down to Alfred's level and put a hand on his shoulder. Alfred looked up into Arthur's eyes. "What about you?" Arthur asked.
"I don't think I need to say it," Alfred said, equally quiet.
Arthur hugged Alfred, who let his head fall onto Arthur's shoulder.
Francis silently came over to Matthew and untied him. Matthew stood up, not making eye-contact with him. Instead, he looked at his shoes, not sure if he wanted there to be others like them.
"You are immortal, too?" Francis asked him.
Matthew looked at him. He had really missed Francis those 70 years. He had never outright said it, but he had felt Francis and Arthur had been the parents they never had. The two had always looked out for the twins, making sure they were safe and ready in case something happened. Matthew had almost felt sad when the war was over.
"Yes," he said. "We're immortal, if that's what defines immortality."
Matthew was surprised when Francis wrapped him in a warm hug. He smiled and leaned into the embrace, letting the Frenchman hug him.
----
The twins missed their flight, but they honestly didn't care. They decided to stay with the group, wanting to catch up with their friends from the past, and possibly learn about their immortality.
Feliciano had shown them to a guest room. It was plain and simple, but they didn't mind. After dropping their bags, they decided to head back downstairs.
Word had travelled fast through the house and, when they came down, everyone was packed into the living room. When the twins walked into the room, a deafening silence enveloped them.
The twins shifted under everyone's gazes. Alfred unconsciously moved closer to his twin.
Surprisingly, or maybe not, it was Feliciano who broke the silence. "Do you two like pasta?" he asked.
The twins blinked at the seemingly random question. "Uh, yeah, why?" Matthew answered.
"I was going to make some for dinner, but I wanted to make sure you liked it."
"Yeah, pasta's good," Alfred said, nodding. Feliciano smiled and ran to the kitchen. Not even seconds later, they could hear pots clanging together as the Italian prepared the meal.
"Does he do that often?" Alfred asked, staring at the kitchen door.
"Ja," Ludwig sighed. "But I will admit, he does make good pasta."
"So, like, are you two actually immortal?" a blond man asked suddenly.
"Feliks, that's rude," the man next to him scolded.
"Quit being so tense Toris," Feliks responded, waving aside the other man. He looked at the twins expectantly.
"Uh, yeah?" Matthew said quietly.
"How?" Feliks asked.
"I don't know," Matthew said. "It just happened. I guess."
"Well that's a dumb answer."
"Feliks!"
"So are you all immortal too then?" Alfred asked.
"As it seems, everyone in this house is immortal," Arthur said.
Alfred frowned. All these people. Immortal, just like them. "Do you think we're immortal in the same way?" he asked. "Or are there different ways to be immortal?"
"Well," Arthur frowned, thinking. "I guess it depends. If it's alright with you, I think we could use some backstory. Francis and I met you two during World War Two. Would you be alright sharing how you ended up with us?"
"Pasta's ready!" Feliciano called from the kitchen, interrupting the conversation.
Matthew looked at the door, amazed. "How did he make it that fast?" he asked. "It takes twice as long as that to just get the pot to boil."
"Maybe you're just cursed," Alfred said. "The pasta gods are disappointed in your life choices, so they cursed you with slow boiling water."
Matthew rolled his eyes and playfully shoved his twin. "By that explanation, then the car gods have cursed you with 'malfunctioning windshield wipers'." He used air quotations to make his point.
"Ugh," Alfred groaned. "This again? That happened once!"
"You know I will never let that go."
"But Mattie," Alfred started, smirking.
"No," Matthew's eyes widened. "Don't you dare."
"Let it go! Let it go!" Alfred started singing obnoxiously. Matthew covered his twin's mouth with his hand, leaving Alfred to finish the verse too muffled for anyone to make sense of it.
"I swear to god you need to stop," Matthew glared.
Feliciano stuck his head out if the kitchen. "Is anyone going to eat pasta with me?"
"Yup, I'm coming!" Alfred said, ducking out of his twin's grasp. "C'mon, Elsa!"
Matthew turned to the other people in the room. "If he mysteriously disappears, I just want you to know that it was totally me." With that, he turned and followed his twin.
Francis smiled. "I see they haven't changed at all," he said reminiscently. Arthur sighed shaking his head.
"So you've met them before?" Ivan asked.
"World War Two. They were the two other boys in our little troop," Arthur supplied. "Francis and I thought they were normal humans at the time."
"We didn't mean to, but I guess we made the mistake of getting attached," Francis added. "I for one was almost sad when the war ended. I was quite fond of them."
"Despite the fact that it was a war zone and they could die at any time, the two of them were very good at keeping spirits up," Arthur said.
"But I guess they didn't have to worry about dying at any time," Yao pointed out.
Arthur sighed and shook his head, standing up.
"I agree," Francis said, standing. "I can't think like this on an empty stomach."
"That is not what that sigh meant," Arthur said, walking into the kitchen.
"Maybe not, but that is what you meant. Don't deny it, mon ami."
"Just let me eat some bloody food!"
----
"That was some great pasta!" Alfred exclaimed.
Feliciano smiled happily. "Thank you!"
The group managed to eat an entire meal without murdering each other, which was a major accomplishment. The pasta was a success, which wasn't a surprise, considering who cooked it.
"So, how far did we get in the immortality discussion?" Feliciano asked.
"We've hit the fact that everyone in this house is immortal," Matthew offered. "But that's about it."
"In other words, we have a lot to discuss," Ludwig said.
While the group had been eating, the storm had finally rolled in, a bit later than predicted. The rain had provided some steady white noise during a slightly awkward dinner. The rain had just picked up, the wind helping to dramatise the increase.
The lights flickered in the room, before going out.
"Aaand there goes power," Lovino muttered.
"Anyone have a torch?" Arthur asked.
"No, but I have a flashlight," Alfred said, turning on the flashlight on his phone, blinding half of the room in the process.
"They're the same bloody thing. And get that light out of my face!"
Alfred laughed, but tilted the light toward the ground.
"Anyone know how long the storm's supposed to last?" Ludwig asked.
"When we looked earlier today, it looked like a lot of rain," Matthew said. "I wouldn't be surprised if it rains until late morning tomorrow. And it'll be even longer until the power comes back on."
"We've all been around longer than electricity; we'll be fine," Francis said, but then paused. "Wait. You two were around before electricity, right?"
"Yeah," Alfred said, the light bobbing slightly to match his nod. "I'd say we've been around since the early thirteenth century, give or take?"
"Around then," Matthew affirmed.
"See, we'll be fine," Francis repeated.
"I can light a fire in the fireplace," Kiku offered. "Perhaps the living room would be a good place to continue our discussion."
"I will help you," Yao said, standing. "Alfred, can you bring your light?"
"Yup!" Alfred jumped up, and the three set off to set up the fireplace.