Hello! It's been a while since I posted something but I wanted to put more effort into my ideas than just 'Me has idea! Me write idea!' That's why the first chapter is so long! I actually planned it out! :)

NOTE: I am well aware that the Italians are NOT twins. However, as mentioned in my profile, on all NonCanon!AUs, they will be twins.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any part of APH/Hetalia, though I do own the plot bunny behind this idea.

New York City, New York; Autumn 1962

"Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Italian twins still missing!" The paperboy yelled as he waved one of his papers through the air. He stood next to a tall stack of copies, his tilted hat casting a shadow over his left eye. Alfred chuckled as he walked by, handing the boy a quarter as he took a paper.

"Keep the change, kid!" He called as he walked off, reading the front page of the New York Times special edition. It was amusing to see what the humans' theories were about his newest playthings. Were they taken? Did they run away? Were they killed? Who took them? Why? Alfred hummed softly as he opened the newspaper, his attitude in complete contrast to the general tenseness of the city. Why would it not be tense? There was the threat of the Russians recent team up with the Cubans and African-Americans were trying to rise up against the good people of the south. One recently had the audacity to attempt to enroll into a all-white university. It was troubling times indeed. It was a good thing his circus had come when it did hm? It was amazing the missing children managed to gain a spotlight despite how much was going on. The twins were the most adorable six-year-olds, the two of them having wandered right into his arms. He had sensed something in them, something he liked. Something he could mold and use. And to think, he had originally planned to kill them when he took them.

Alfred grunted as a man ran into him, the thin paper in his hands being crumpled as his grip tightened on it. "Mi dispiace! I'm looking for my grandsons! Have you seen them?" The frantic offender asked. His eyes were red and puffy from a mixture of tears and lack of sleep, his curly dark brown hair a mess. He was a foreigner, Italian judging be the accent. He was sure someone like him wasn't quite welcome in America. Anything could've happened to his grandsons. There are some very cruel people in the world. Alfred smirked briefly as he looked him over before putting on a sympathetic mask.

"I'm so sorry, I haven't seen them, sir. Is there any way I can help?" He asked, recognizing the man from his audience two days before. So this was the grandfather of his boys. The 'Nonno' his boys screamed for. He looked very good for his age.

"Sí, help me per favore. They're only six years old!" The man pleaded, Alfred nodding. "They're short, and their names are Lovino and Feliciano Vargas. They have a curl in their hair, t-"

"I'll look for them, promise. It's a shame something like this happened to them while at my circus." He interrupted with a smile. The man gave him a nod with a relieved expression before he moved past Alfred and continued walking. The blonde turned and watched, humming softly as he folded up his newspaper and tucked it under his arm. Those poor, poor children.

Ahhhh...It feels good to be back! So, did you like it? Are you excited? I know I am. I'm actually confident in this story because I sat down and planned it out!