GEH! This one is actually kind of personal, sorry. My Germany broke up with her Italy, so now I feel like I lost a brother. Sadness. But canon Germany and Italy will NEVER break up, so I went for my Boss Iggs' favorite couple ever, PruCan.

This is same universe as TDD, a few years later. Told ya I'd make some sameiverse stories.

Also, if you think I wrote this because I had writer's block on Devil's night, you're not completely wrong.

Prussia stormed into the house slightly less loud than usual. The door barely even slammed behind him as he rushed to his bedroom in Germany's basement.

Germany peered over his glasses at the intact door.

"Gilbert?" he called.

There was a pause. "Yeah?"

Germany stood up in alarm. Gilbert's voice sounded strained and exhausted.

"Gilbert, what did you do?"

"Nothing! Jeez, West, leave me alone!"

Another red flag. If Prussia had done something bad, he'd have run back upstairs and gushed about his brilliance and awesome. He wouldn't have tried to get Germany to stop talking to him.

Germany went to the basement door and tapped lightly with his knuckle. "Gilbert, what happened? Should I be worried?"

"What part of 'go away' don't you understand?" Gilbert snapped through the door. "Seriously, jeez!"

"Bruder. Tell me what happened."

"No!"

Germany sighed and walked to the kitchen. He grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and came back to the basement door.

"Beer?"

There was a long sniff and the door finally opened. Germany gasped.

…

"Mattie!" America's voice pierced Canada's ears and he buried his head deeper under his pillow. His loud, stupid, happy brother was the second to last person he wanted to see right now.

"Mattie?"

Canada groaned, hoping America would just leave.

"MATTIE! WHERE ARE YOU!"

There was a crash from downstairs and Canada sat up in annoyance.

"Alfred! I'm in here!"

America's feet pounded up the stairs and he slammed open his brother's door. For a second, he stared at Canada- red eyes, mussed hair, rumpled bed with sheets hung over the window- in bewilderment.

"Dude? You okay?"

Canada sighed and laid back down, burying his face under his pillow.

"Go away," he said, words muffled against his sheets.

"Matt? What happened?"

"Please, Alfred. I don't want to talk about it."

Canada was answered with a dip in his mattress as America wordlessly lay beside his little brother. Despite himself, Canada felt his eyes burn with tears.

"Tell me what happened," America murmured.

…

"Mein Gott," Germany gasped at his older brother. "You look…"

"Awesome, I know," Prussia finished, taking a pull from his beer. He wiped his lips and walked into the living room, sitting heavily on the couch.

Germany followed. "Your eyes are red."

"They're always red, asshole."

"No, I mean… have you been crying?"

"No!" Prussia shouted indignantly. "I don't cry! Awesome never cries!"

"Your nose is red, too."

"It's cold outside!"

"It's September."

"Your mom's September!"

"What?"

"GAW!" Prussia stood up and drained his beer in two gulps. "I don't have to tell you everything, West! You're not my fucking babysitter!"

Germany angrily stood up. "Gilbert, look me in the eyes. Why are you so upset?"

"It's nothing!"

"It's something!"

"Leave me alone!"

Germany caught his brother's wrist as he tried to storm back to the basement. "Just tell me who you were with when it happened so I can ask them, okay? Was it Francis? Antonio? Arthur? Matt?"

At the sound of his boyfriend's name, Prussia's arm went slack. Germany's eyes widened.

"Matt? What happened with Matt?"

Germany let go of Prussia's hand and it fell to his side, limp. Prussia silently studied his empty bottle of beer.

Suddenly, Prussia hurled the bottle at the wall with a roar and it shattered into a million pieces.

…

"He was supposed to stay," Canada murmured. "He was supposed to stay and fight."

"Fight who?" America said. "Fight for what?"

Canada turned to face his brother. "He's never given up on anything. Why didn't he fight me on it?"

America brushed Canada's hair out of his face soothingly and Canada's eyes filled with tears again.

"What did he do?"

Canada sniffed. "I was being stupid. I started yelling because I was so frustrated at him! I wanted him to be more open with me and have real conversations that aren't about stupid things like pranks and gossip and stuff. I wanted to talk about feelings more."

America covered a snort. "That's a little…"

"Gay, I know. That's exactly what he said. And I got so mad! I screamed at him and said if he didn't like it, we could just break up."

America's eyes widened. "What?"

"He should have stayed," Canada whispered. "He was supposed to fight me."

…

"What was I supposed to do?" Prussia shouted, gulping a second beer as Germany swept up the remnants of the first.

"Well, for starters try not to call your boyfriend gay."

"Oh, you're right, West," Prussia snarked. "He's totally straight. Straightest guy I've ever known. Which is why I was dating him."

"He probably took offense that you were using 'gay' as an insult. I can understand that."

"But it's not an insult, duh."

"Maybe Matt was right," Germany said, standing up. "You really need to talk about feelings more often."

"He said I wasn't romantic. I'm plenty romantic! I invented romance!"

"What did you do for your anniversary?" Germany swept the broken glass into a trash basket.

"We watched hockey and ordered pizza."

Germany quirked an eyebrow at his brother.

"What?" Prussia shouted angrily. "I ordered pineapple just for him!"

…

"Ew. I can't believe you eat pineapple on your pizza."

"Beside the point." Matt rolled his eyes at Alfred. "My point is, he's the least romantic person I know."

"And?"

"And… that sucks."

"Oh."

Canada sighed and closed his eyes. "I can't believe I broke up with him."

"Me either. I thought you guys were seriously great together."

Canada looked at his brother in surprise. "Really? But you always made fun of him!"

"Well, yeah," America said, rolling his eyes. "He's an idiot. But you kind of love idiots, don't you?"

Canada smiled affectionately. "You're not that big an idiot."

"Hey!" America sat up violently. "I was talking about Cuba and France! Not me!"

Canada let out a half-laugh half-sob.

"Anyway," America continued. "He loved you a lot. And I can't hate anyone that makes you happy."

Canada smiled and wiped his face. "Thanks, Alfred. That's surprisingly sweet."

"You know it," America grinned. "Now get up and make me some pancakes."

…

Germany sipped his second beer as Prussia downed his fifth.

"So what did you do when he said he wanted to break up?"

"What could I do?" Prussia said hopelessly. "I love him. If he doesn't want me, I can't make him. I just walked away."

"You love him?" Germany asked in surprise. "Since when do you love him?"

"I dunno. It feels like I always have. Kind of, like, I was born to be in love with him. Like there's no other way for me to be." Prussia looked up at Germany's shocked face. "What? I told you I was romantic!"

"Where the hell did that come from, dummkopf?"

"What's that supposed to mean, arsloch?"

The dogs suddenly barked happily and the German brothers rolled their eyes as Italy's voice squealed about how cute the "puppies" were. He came, beaming, into the living room and three large dogs followed, tails wagging.

"Hi Germany! Hi Prussia!"

"Hallo, Italy," Germany answered. Prussia tried to sneak off to the basement so Italy wouldn't see him in his unawesome state, but Germany pinned his wrist to the sofa.

"Ve! It's so pretty out today! We should go for a walk."

"Not just now," Germany said to his boyfriend. "Gilbert is having a bad day."

"Shut up," Prussia murmured.

"Ve?" Italy said, worried. "Gilbert? What happened?"

"Nothing happened, Feli," Prussia said. "West is confusing 'awesome' with 'unawesome' again."

Italy looked from Germany to Prussia. Germany nodded to the armchair next to the sofa and Italy sat down, confused.

"Even if nothing happened," Italy said, "sometimes it's a lot better to talk to people when you feel sad. Then you can look at it some other way and realize you have a lot to be happy about!"

Germany smiled. "See? Feliciano is very smart about these things. Can you try talking to him?"

Italy smiled happily at Prussia and waited for him to talk.

…

"To be honest," America said, leaning back in Canada's kitchen chair, "I don't think he ever deserved you."

"How do you mean?" Canada flipped a perfectly golden pancake and watched the ham sizzle in another skillet.

"Like, you're sweet and nice and caring and cool. And he's an arrogant jerk. I never understood what you saw in him."

"Yeah, he could be annoying," Canada agreed. "But he's also funny and charming and strong."

"He's stubborn…"

"Loyal."

"…obnoxious…"

"Original."

"…loud…"

"Outgoing."

"Jeez, Matt," America sat up, annoyed. "You're awful at breakups!"

Canada opened his mouth to argue when the back door opened.

"Bonjour, my darlings!"

Canada's face broke into a smile and America groaned. "Papa! Come in, I'm making pancakes!"

France strode in, blond hair fluttering behind him as if a fan was blowing it around. "Oh, my darling Mathieu, how can I possibly resist your cooking?"

"Hey, Frog," America waved half-heartedly.

France ignored him and looked to the banana slices sitting beside the plate of perfect pancakes. "Banana pancakes? What's the occasion?"

Canada sighed and flipped the ham. "Gilbert and I broke up."

"Mon dieu!" France gasped. "What did that fool do to you?"

"Look, can we please not talk about it? I kind of want to think about something else for a bit."

France looked at his wrist. "Oh, no. Look at the time. I just remembered I have somewhere to be."

"You're not wearing a watch," America pointed out.

"Adieu, Mathieu," France said, walking back out the door. "Adieu, Amerique!"

Canada looked worriedly after France. "I hope he's not late."

"He's France," shrugged America. "He's always late. Your flapjack is burning."

Canada yelped and slid the pancake out of the skillet.

…

"And I had no idea what to do. So I just walked away."

Italy stared at Prussia in shock. "You did what?"

"Walked away. If he doesn't love me anymore, I can't make him."

"No!"

Prussia and Germany jumped as Italy leapt to his feet in anger.

"No, that's a badidiot! Bad!"

"I-Italy?" Germany stammered. Prussia yelped and hid his head as Italy smacked it with a book from Germany's desk.

"Why- are- you- so- stupid!"

Germany hurriedly pulled Italy off his brother.

"Feliciano, what has gotten into you?"

"He killed it!" Italy cried. "He killed the romance!"

Just then, the back door slammed open again.

"Where is that idiot!" called a furious French voice.

"The idiot is in here!" Italy yelled.

"What are you talking about?" cried Prussia.

France stormed into the living room and grabbed the book from Italy's hands. "Why- are- you- so- stupid!" he cried, smacking Prussia's head.

"Ow! Goddammit, what?"

"How could you break up with my little Mathieu! You monster!"

Prussia looked up in confusion. "I didn't. He dumped me."

France paused. "What?"

"Matt dumped me. I have no idea why you guys are beating me up! Don't you think I'm hurt enough?"

"He… he dumped you? But mon cher, why?"

Prussia sighed and rubbed his face. "He said I wasn't romantic enough and he wanted to talk about feelings more."

"So… what did you do?"

"He walked away!" Italy cried, struggling against Germany's hold on him.

"Idiot!" France roared and resumed beating Prussia with the book.

…

"Should I call him?"

"No, Matt. Don't call him."

"I feel like I should call him."

America sighed and snatched the cell phone from Canada's fingers. "Matt, stop. You're torturing yourself."

"But I need to apologize," Canada cried.

"No, you need to sit back down and watch this break-up movie with me."

Matt put his hands on his hips. "This isn't a break-up movie. This is Die Hard 2."

"Right. And?"

Canada lunged for his cell phone, but America dodged him. "Seriously, Matt. You need to relax and let the ball be in his court for a while."

"But I made a mistake! I shouldn't have broken up with him!"

"You were unhappy! You said the relationship needed to change!"

"I don't need romance, Alfred! I need Gilbert!" Canada sank to the couch and broke into fresh sobs. America patted his back awkwardly.

"Matt," America said. "I know you love him. I do. But right now you need to try and think about what it is you really want. Figure out where you stand and where you can go from here."

Canada looked up at America. "Why do you sound like you've done this before?"

America's eyes glazed over and he sighed. "I've been through my share of breakups. And even if they suck now, sometimes it's for the best."

Canada sighed and leaned into his brother's arm. "I just miss him so much, Alfred."

"I know… I know…."

…

"I don't know!" Prussia yelled for the fifth time. "Why is that the worst part?"

France and Italy rolled their eyes. "For the last time," France growled. "You do not walk away from a challenge like that. Not in l'amore."

"You stay and you fight!" Italy yelled. "You fight for love!"

Germany looked at his boyfriend in surprise. "I'm sorry, you say you fight?"

Italy grinned happily and kissed Germany on the cheek. "You've never given me a reason to."

Germany hid a smile and blushed.

"It doesn't matter," Prussia said, annoyed. "There's nothing to fight for. Matt doesn't love me."

"Idiot," France murmured.

"I know, right?" Italy said.

"What?"

France sighed. "You must find your reason again, ma coeur. You used to be so determined to win no matter what. What happened to you?"

Italy nodded. "Do you remember when Liz said she didn't want anything to do with you?"

"Hungary almost had to take out a restraining order," France said. "Isn't that right, Germany?"

Germany nodded and Prussia yelled indignantly. "But it worked! We ended up dating!"

Italy threw up his arms in exasperation. "You fought and won when everyone was sure you were going to end up arrested! Why can't you fight now for someone who loves you back?"

Prussia didn't have a good answer.

…

Canada glared at America. "No."

America held up the movie and gave his best puppy eyes. "Come onnnnn, it's totally funny!"

"It's not funny, Alfred, it's stupid. Put it back."

"Stupid?" Alfred said. "This is a quality comedy!"

"How can you even say that?" Canada yelled. "The writing's idiotic, the acting is awful and there are so many plot holes I can't even begin to count!"

"It's funny! It doesn't need to be well done!"

"For the last time, I'm not watching The Lake House with you, Alfred!"

America rolled his eyes and put the DVD back on the shelf. "So what do you want to do?"

Canada sighed and hugged Kumajiro closer to his chest. "I dunno. Can we just… talk?"

Alfred's eyes widened. "Like… conversation?"

"Yeah."

"Like, I say something and then you say something and we listen to each other?"

"Yeah!"

"Like what we're doing right now?"

Canada laughed. "No, I mean like feelings and stuff."

America looked around nervously. "Right now?"

"Yeah."

"Um… okay."

Canada took a deep breath. "Okay. So, I've been thinking about how Gilbert and I got together…"

"Oh no."

"…you remember, at the party? Where we got locked in the closet?"

"No."

"Sure you do," Canada said. "We were interrupted when Russia and Spain-"

"DOORBELL!" America shouted, springing to his feet.

Canada looked at him in confusion. "I didn't hear a-"

Ding-dong.

"I'll get it!" America cried happily. He ran upstairs and opened the door.

On the porch, looking like a soaked cat, stood a dripping wet Prussia.

America looked at him. "You're all wet."

"Am I?" Prussia said.

"It's not even raining."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"Do I want to know?"

Prussia shrugged. "France is involved, so probably not. Is Matt here?"

"What if he is?"

Prussia growled in annoyance. "Alfred, I am not playing games here. Go get your brother right now. We need to talk."

America grinned. "What the fuck took you so long? He was two seconds away from getting graphic on me!"

Prussia sighed in relief as America called his little brother. Canada came up the stairs. When he saw Prussia in the foyer, he hesitated and set Kumajiro on the ground.

"What are you doing here?"

"Come outside, Matt. We need to talk."

Canada hesitated and looked at his brother. America nodded and Canada followed Prussia outside.

Prussia motioned to Canada's porch swing. "You wanna sit down?"

"What do you want?"

"You know exactly what I want," Prussia said. "But that doesn't matter right now."

Canada looked at Prussia quizzically.

"Matt, you need to be happy. Really, really happy. You're the best person I know and you deserve it."

Canada blushed and sat in the swing.

"If I thought it would make you happy," Prussia said, "I'd walk off this porch right now and never try to see you again. And even though it would probably kill me, I'd be satisfied that you'd have a good life."

Canada's eyes watered, but he stayed silent.

"But," Prussia continued. "That wouldn't make you happy. Not even a little bit. Would it?"

"No," Canada whispered.

"Because you love me, don't you?"

"Yeah."

Prussia sat next to Canada on the swing. "Matt, I don't understand. Why would you tell me to leave if you didn't want me to?"

Canada sighed. "I wanted to see if you would."

"If you asked me to jump out of an airplane for you, I would. If you asked me to play nice with Russia, I would. If you asked me to give up beer, I would… consider it."

Canada laughed and a tear slipped out of his eye. Prussia leaned in and brushed the tear off his cheek.

"I love you, Matt," Prussia murmured, his breath hot on Canada's skin. "I would do anything for you. So why would you ask me to hurt you like that?"

"You were supposed to fight me on it."

Prussia smiled. "I get that now. I never should have left. I should have stayed and won you over all over again."

Canada smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah. Can we try again?"

"Okay."

Prussia pulled an empty beer bottle from his back pocket. Canada laughed and covered his face.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course," Prussia smiled. "I'm always serious. I'm a very serious person. Now spin the bottle."

Canada threw his arms around Prussia's neck and kissed him, laughing.

"Truth or dare, hoser?"

Prussia kicked off his shoes and laid back in the swing, pulling Canada on top of his body. "Truth."

Canada smiled and laid his head on Prussia's chest. "Do you love me?"

Prussia smiled and buried his lips in Canada's hair. "More than anything. Truth or dare?"

Canada undid the top button of his shirt and kissed Prussia lightly. "Truth."

"Can you forgive me?"

Canada laughed and kissed Prussia again. "Always. Truth or dare?"

Prussia slipped his ring off his pinky and slid it onto Canada's finger. "Truth."

"Why are you all wet?"

Prussia groaned. "Ugh. France and Italy thought that I needed a cold shower."

"With your clothes on?"

Prussia pondered this. "Well, I didn't say they were smart, did I?"

Canada laughed. Prussia smiled and pressed his forehead to his. "I miss you."

"It's been eight hours, Gilbert."

Prussia frowned. "You say that like it's nothing."

Canada looked Prussia in the eye.

"I mean," Prussia went on. "You're everything to me, Matt. You're my reason for waking up. You're my reason for breathing. Eight hours without breathing is the same as a hundred years without breathing. It hurts the same."

Canada kissed Prussia. "This is you trying to be romantic, is it?"

"Could you tell?" Prussia laughed and kissed him. "Truth or dare?"

"Hm," Canada smiled. "Dare."

Prussia pulled Canada's face to his and whispered into his ear. "Take me back."

"Yeah," Canada nodded. "Yeah, okay."

They laughed and held each other for the rest of the night.

…

The doorbell rang and Canada ran downstairs. "Coming!" he yelled.

He skidded and stopped in front of a mirror to fix his hair and adjust Prussia's metal ring. He smiled at himself and opened the door, breathless.

"Hey, Mattie," a silver-haired man grinned at him. "You look incredible."

"Aw," Canada smiled, ushering his boyfriend in. "So do you. Did you actually style your hair?"

Prussia shrugged and strode in, setting a dozen roses on the coffee table. "I stole some gel from West. Except I make it look awesome."

Canada giggled and kissed Prussia. "Happy anniversary."

Prussia swept Canada up and spun him around. "Happy anniversary."

"So what's the plan tonight?"

"Well," Prussia said, taking Canada's waist in his arms and swaying gently to nonexistent music. "I have reservations at this restaurant Francis recommended. After dinner I figure we walk around town, watch some street performers play a bit, come home and watch a movie. What do you think?"

Canada bit his lip. "Sounds… romantic."

"You want romance, you got romance, Mattie."

"Yeah…"

Prussia stopped swaying and laughed. "Is there a hockey game tonight?"

Canada smiled sheepishly. "Just a minor one."

"Well, we can watch that instead after dinner."

Canada bit his lip again and Prussia frowned. "Not after dinner?"

"No, no, after dinner's great. I'm just not in the mood for French food tonight."

Prussia laughed. "Thank God, I hate Francis' cooking! So what are you in the mood for? Italian?"

"Kind of."

"Okay," Prussia said, taking out his phone. "Let me give Feli a call, see if he knows anywhere good."

Canada rolled his eyes. "Pasta doesn't sound too great either."

Prussia paused and looked at his boyfriend. "No pasta? What else do Italians eat?"

"We could get pizza?"

Prussia's face broke into a wild grin. "Pineapple?"

Canada giggled and snuggled into his boyfriend's chest. "Come to think of it, we don't even have to go out tonight. We can just stay in and celebrate alone."

"Alone?"

"Alone," Canada said pointedly, slipping Prussia's sport coat off his shoulders.

Prussia laughed and kissed him. "You romantic thing you."

"I try."