A/N: I've been so distracted lately. Unemployment is driving me insane. I'm having trouble coming up with new ideas, so I've mostly been writing sequels to unpublished stories. I still have wwwaaayyyy too much crack and half finished works that if I'm honest, I doubt I'll ever publish.
Anyway this is a sequel to my other story which was mostly fluff, Angles in the Shadows. This one is a bit more depressing but gets fluffy near the end. Not intended as Yaoi but I guess you can interpret it that way.
Warnings: rated T for depression and some cutting.
Canada sat alone at the table staring at the lacquered wood. He bit down hard on his lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. He buried his face in his pet polar bears fur. The bear looked up at him with black beady eyes. "Who are you?" It asked.
"Canada" he replied softly. The warm tears began to slowly roll down his cheeks. Normally he could stand his best friend's forgetfulness, but recently it all seemed too much.
He wiped his tears away and looked across the room to his brother. America was busy telling England, France and Japan about his 'kick ass' birthday party. Canada let out sob. Alfred hadn't remembered his birthday. Nobody had. But what made things worse was that Alfred hadn't invited Matthew, his twin brother, to his birthday party yesterday. He buried his face further into Kuma's fur.
Suddenly Kuma jumped out of Canada's arms and dashed under the table. He looked up just in time to see Russia sit down on him. Matthew bit down on his lip again trying his best not to whimper. He didn't enjoy being crushed under Russia's weight, however recently the normally phsycotic nation had been relatively calm.
The only person who knew why, other than Russia, was Matthew. So time after time, he put up with the large nation crushing him into the chair knowing that his presence made the man calm. It usually made him glad to know that he had made a difference in the larger nation's life.
He heard Russia hum a familiar song, one that he had hummed to Ivan. But even the old lullaby did nothing to lift his spirits. Knowing that he was forgotten by everyone left Matthew feeling like he was slowly being eaten up from the inside.
The meeting ended with nothing getting accomplished (thanks to America's idiocy and the bickering of England and France leading to small squabbles between other nations) and no one realizing that they were missing someone. Russia slid off of Matthew's lap and left the room.
Matthew let out a shaky breath before standing. He picked up Kuma and walked towards the door. Releasing a sigh, he buried his face into Kuma's fur again. He failed to notice the person in front of him until he slammed into their back. He fell back on his ass hard but the tall person in front of him was unfazed.
Russia turned around to look down at the Canadian on the floor. He scowled. "That was not very nice America." He said and began to kol.
"A-actually I'm C-canada." Matthew stuttered, shaking slightly. Russia was scary. Really scary.
Russia's deminor softened and his aura disappeared. "Oh Comrade Matvey. I am sorry. I did not mean to mistake you for that loud mouth pig." He extended his hand and pulled the Canadian to his feet.
"Its al-lright. It h-happens all the time. W-well I better g-get going." Matthew said. However Russia refused to let go of his hand.
"Before you leave, I have something to show you." Matthew trembled slightly as the larger nation reached into his coat. To his surprise, Ivan only pulled out a very small glass bottle on a leather cord. Inside were several long, curled, golden hairs. "These hairs a very special. Do you know why?" Matthew shook his head. Ivan smiled and leaned down closer to the smaller blond. "Because they are from an angel." He said quietly.
Matthew forgot how to breath for a moment. He looked at the taller nation who stared back with a sense of child like innocence. The hairs in the bottle were actually Matthew's. Russia actually thought that it was an angel that visited him? He though that Matthew had been an angel? He looked nervously at Russia.
"There v-very nice." He said. He was about to say something else, but was interrupted by his pet polar bear.
"Hungry." The bear said pawing at Matthew's tie.
"W-well I'd b-better go and f-fed Kuma. It was n-nice talking to you Russia." He said turning away from the tall country.
"Пока, Matvey." He said as he waved goodbye to the Canadian. Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. That was too awkward. He sighed again as he climbed into his car and drove home.
*****#####*****
Matthew watched the television through heavy eyelids. He hated the show that was on, but he didn't have the energy or motivation to change the channel. Kuma slumbered silently beside him.
He looked over at the phone. There had been no calls, no messages, no contact from anyone. Just thinking about it made the tears sting his eyes. He sobbed and looked down at his wrists. There was a dull throbbing pain just under the skin. With each heart beat it seemed to cry, to call, to beg. Beg for him to release it from the skin that held it back.
He hated this feeling. He didn't often get these feelings, but they seemed to grow silently and pool in the veins were his arms met his hands. With trembling lips, he placed a kiss on the throbbing skin.
He slowly raised from his seat and walked through the house. He stopped in the bathroom. For a moment, he looked at his reflection in the medicine cabinet as he reached for the handel. The face that stared back at him was familiar and yet that of a stranger at the same time. He opened the cabinet, moved bottles that held various medicine aside and opened the false back. There was only one item behind the hidden opening. A straight razor.
Matthew took the blade in his hands and ran his thumb over the blade checking to make sure it was sharp. He placed the blade, flat side down, on his sensitive throbbing wrist. Before he pierced the skin, he ran the cool metal across it. He then turned the blade slightly so the edge caught in his wrist. With a flick, there was a dark red line across his pale flesh. He instantly felt the sickening feeling of relief wash over him as the dull ache was gone. It was replaced with the sensation that the pain was spilling out of his body.
He knew that one wasn't going to be enough. He grabbed the razor in his other hand flicked it over his other wrist. A new cut on the other side. He continued, digging deeper with each one, until there were three cuts on each wrist. Blood dripped into the sink and was quickly washed down the drain. For a while he simply leaned over the counter and let it flow. But soon, Matthew realized that he should probably treat his wounds before it became serious.
As he tried to move toward the medicine cabinet, he suddenly felt light headed. His legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor. Hot salty tears of fear began to run down his cheeks. Matthew had been cutting for years, but this was the first time he truly feared for his safety. (Other than his mental health) He always made not to cut to deep and if he did he made sure to stop the bleeding before it got too far.
But now, as he lay on the floor, his blood pooling around him, he realized that he was going to die. He was going to die alone, on the cold floor of his bathroom, forgotten. No one would remember him. They probably won't even discover his body for days, weeks even. Just thinking about it made the tears flow harder.
The world around began to spin and the darkness began to creep into his vision. He could hardly register what was going on around him. He barely heard the noise coming from downstairs.
"Oh god." The words sounded muffled in his blood deprived state. He was weak and numb. And yet he felt something strange. He could just make out the feeling of pressure on his wrists. Slowly the world stopped spinning and a face swam in his vision. "Matvey? Matvey, are you alright?"
"R-russia." He said dazed as the Russians face came into view. The tall nations expresion softened slightly. Matthew saw that the Russian had a firm yet careful grip on the his wrists, applying pressure to the wounds. "W-what are you d-doing here?" He asked his head pounded with each word.
The tall nation seemed to calm. "I came over because there was something I needed to discuss with Matvey. When he didn't come to the door, I knew something was wrong." Russia replied. He lifted the cloth to check that the bleeding had stopped. "That will just have to wait I suppose." The Russian almost sounded distant. He reached over to a first aid kit that he must have found and pulled out the materials for a dressing. "Why would you do this Matvey?"
"I-i wasn't trying t-to kill m-myself." Matthew replied weakly. "I j-just, sometimes...its t-too much."
"I see." Ivan replied. As he worked he began to trace some of Matthew's scars from previous cuttings. Matthew could hear anger and pain in his tone. Why was he angry at what Matthew had done to himself? "How could you be so selfish Matvey?"
Now Matthew was really confused. "How am I being selfish?" He tried to glare at Russia, but he was too weak.
"Because you were doing something dangerous and stupid with no regard to those that care about you." The anger was now clearly audible in Russia's tone.
"N-nobody cares ab-bout me Russia! Th-they're always f-forgetting about me. Even K-kuma doesn't r-remeber my name. He only s-stays because of the f-free food. He d-doesn't need me." Tears began to roll down his pale cheeks and sobs racked his body. Ivan pulled Matthew into his lap and wrapped his long arms around him.
Matthew remembered the last time that the Russian giant had clung to him like this. He was afraid that the one who had gave him comfort would disappear, turn to dust in his arms and blow away. "But I need you Matvey. What would I do with out my angel? I don't want to be alone again."
Matthew's eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest. "H-how long have..?"
"I suspected some things, but I only figured it out today. That is why I came over." Matthew began to sob harder. He buried his face into Ivan's coat and wrapped his arms around his chest. Ivan began to rub his back in soothing circular motions, just as Matthew had done before. Russia softly shushed him and began to hum that familiar song. Soon Matthew found himself drifting to sleep in the Russian's strong arms.
*****#####*****
Matthew woke up the next morning in his bed. His head pounded as the bright sunlight flowed into the room from the window. He reached his hand up and rubbed his aching eyes with his knuckles. As he flexed his fingers, he felt a slight constriction. He cracked his eye open. A large bandage was wrapped around part of his hand and wrist.
His heart sank when he remembered what happened last night. He felt sick and selfish. He hadn't cared about his friends or family. He could have died. It was then that Matthew remembered who had saved him. He sat up and looked around the room, but found no sign of the other nation.
Defeated, Matthew fell back into the bed as he began to cry again. This wasn't the first time that he had imagined someone who wasn't there. The first time he cut himself, he though that Alfred had came and rescued him, and took him back to live with England and France again. He swore he could hear his heart rip in half the next morning when he found himself sprawled out on the couch, alone, with a couple of dish towels tied tightly around his wrists.
He raised his hand to wipe away the tears. Something soft brushed against his face. That's when he noticed that tucked under the thumb of his right hand was a small sunflower. It looked to be young, perhaps the first of the year. He knew that it was early in the season for the bright flowers because last meeting Russia had complained.
Suddenly Matthew's eyes snapped open and he shot up in bed. As he did his head pounded, but he didn't care. Ivan must have left the small flower for him. He smiled and nuzzled the flower close to his face. Just knowing that it hadn't been a dream made him feel releaved.
*****#####*****
"Hey Canada, can I talk to you?" Matthew turned around to see Alfred standing behind him looking rather nervous. The loud american seemed rather subdued.
"Yes Alfred?" He asked.
Alfred rubbed the back of his neck staring at the floor looking rather somber. "Look, I just wanted to say...I'm sorry I forgot about your birthday. Listen um do you want to go to Mac..." Alfred stopped and stared at the pocket of Matthews suit jacket. He scowled. "Hey what's that?" He said pointing at the pocket.
Matthew simply looked down and smiled before plucking the bright yellow flower forever peserved in laquer from its rest. "Its a flower Al." He said sarcastically. Alfred scowled for a moment then shrugged his shoulders and threw an arm around Matthew.
"Come on. I'll take you to MacDanalds. Late birthday present, my treat." Alfred said with his usual beeming smile.
Matthew didn't much care for fast food, but the attention was nice. "Thanks Alfred." Across the room, several nations shivered when they saw the tall, silver haired nation break into a grin.
Sorry, I know Russia's pretty OOC, but I didn't want him to be so sadistic. It just didn't fit well.
Please please please reveiw.
I don't get a lot and I wonder if I'm doing a good job or not.