I'm hoping to get over my writer's block on my other story soon. Remember, when I get an idea, it won't go away until I type it onto something. That just seems to be the way it works for me. As always, I'll try to work on both at the same time.

Warnings for whole story: possible mpreg, implied or past Rus/Can, France likely out of character.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Maybe he should've waited for a night when it wasn't downpouring. But he was already outside, so there was no reason to go back in.

As Matthew Williams looked at the dark house, he looked back at the time he spent there. The reason he was even living there in the first place now escaped him. One thing was for sure though; it was utter hell.

All he ever really heard from Ivan was 'Mattie this' and 'Mattie that'. Whenever the Russian called for him, it was usually to get him some vodka, or another pillow for his bed. This went on every day. Most of the time, that's all it was.

Sometimes, though, the vodka lover's requests became rather...suggestive. Whether he was drunk or not, the maple boy was expected to get under the sheets with him at times like that.

Well, no more. Matthew was leaving this place for good. If he was lucky, Ivan wouldn't come after him. He was, after all, a rather forgettable person.

Taking one last look at the house, he turned around. Kumajiro, who was in his arms, was sound asleep. Making sure the little bear was protected from the rain, he took a deep breath and took off.

...

The streets were nearly empty at this time of night. Save for a few people getting home or just desperate to get out of the rain, Matthew was alone.

He had gotten a fair distance from Ivan's house when he finally stopped to rest. When he left, he realized he didn't know where he could go.

He couldn't stay at a hotel here in town. The poor thing had no money, and he likely wouldn't be allowed in if he had Kumajiro with him. With that out of the question, he weighed his remaining options. He could stay with someone, but who?

Should he stay with his friend Gilbert? No. He lived with his younger brother. What about his own brother, Alfred? Probably not. His whale and that alien might not want him there.

Kumajiro began stirring in Matthew's arms. When his little eyes opened, he turned his head at his master and asked his usual, "who are you?"

"I'm Canada," he said. No sooner than he had said it, though, he felt a wave of nausea come over him. Setting the polar bear down onto the ground, he ran to the nearest trash can and vomited into it.

He hadn't been feeling well for the past couple of days. He almost didn't leave because of it, really. Standing in the rain was not helping, either. He and Kumajiro had to find a place to stay as soon as possible.

But without Gilbert and Alfred, Matthew was left with one other person he could stay with. Hopefully he was up at this time, though it didn't seem likely...

Taking his furry little friend into his arms again, the quiet nation set off for his house.

He knew the way well. He had visited a few times when he was with Ivan, but he hadn't been there for a while. Even if who he wanted was awake, would he take Matthew in?

Well, he wouldn't know unless he tried. When he finally saw the house, his pace picked up until he reached the door. When he got there, he immediately started banging on the door, hoping he could be heard.

...

Wham wham wham!

Now who could that be at this forbidding hour? Francis Bonnefoy was having a hard time sleeping on this particular night. That was the reason he heard someone at the door.

Of course, now he was annoyed that he was being visited at this time of night. That, and now he had to put a robe on. As he descended the stairs, grumbling the whole way.

"Sacre bleu, I thought I told him not to bother me until next week...Why is he so intent on bothering me with such things..."

As he tried to look through the eyehole, Francis was having a hard time making out the figure at the door. It was too dark and rainy to see who it was.

The Frenchman put his hand onto the doorknob, turning it slowly. When he opened it, he was met almost immediately with someone falling headfirst into him. He could feel a mix of wet hair and fur on his chest.

"Agh...! Mathieu? What are you...?"

Francis could hear Matthew panting and shaking. The Canadian was unable to calm down.

"Mathieu! Mon cher, what happened?"

"I...I..." Matthew tried to answer him as best he could, but he could not get the words out. He simply looked up and stared right into the older man's eyes.

"Papa...I couldn't...I didn't want to..." The poor guy couldn't form proper sentences. Even so, Francis seemed to understand what he was trying to say. It wasn't like he didn't know where Matthew was all this time.

"Shhh...It's all right, Mathieu." Francis pulled away a bit, then took Matthew's little polar bear from his arms. "I'll find something to dry the two of you off with." With that, he started upstairs.

Matthew nodded, and with shaking hands, tried to remove his sopping wet coat. He was able to manage it, after some difficulty. When he took it off, he threw it somewhere by the door, and followed after him.

So... Well...

I'm not sure what to say here, now. I suppose that like many of my prologues, it starts out rough and maybe a bit choppy.

That's all I really have to say, really.

-lyudesshadow