Disclaimer:
Kitsune: Yo! MERRY CHRISTMAS PEOPLE! Have some St. Lucia Rolls I made! (holds out a pan) Ren just made a PruCan fic based on the classical film, It's a Wonderful Life and the story the movie was based on, The Greatest Gift. Ren doesn't own Hetalia or It's a Wonderful Life. Enjoy the fic! Oh! And Happy New Year!
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Matthew stared at the town where he had grown up, then back at the black water below him. He watched as blocks of ice flowed through it, and the snow just started to fall. So it was going to be a white Christmas…well not for him at least.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," A slurred voice behind him said aloud, making him quickly turn around. He comes face to face with a blond haired man with the hairiest eyebrows he's ever seen…wearing a toga. The man hiccupped.
"W-what do you mean?" Matthew asked quietly. The man took a flask out of his satchel and took a swig, before speaking again.
"Matthew, anyone with a brain can tell what you're thinking," The stranger said, giving Matthew a look over. Matthew flushed lightly, not noticing the man knew his name.
"What's it to you? You don't know me," Matthew said.
"On the contrary, Matthew, I do," The stranger said. Matthew looked at him suspiciously.
"How do you know my name?" Matthew stepped away from the strange man. The man hiccupped again.
I know everything about you. You live a wonderful life with Gilbert, and the two young in's you adopted, Jacques and Frederick. It would be a waste to end your life now, so much to look forward to," The man said as he stared at the town. Matthew frowned,
"Wonderful life? My company has just lost a lot of money, no one in this town notices me! I could lose my business, go to jail, and lose my family! It'd be better if I was dead…better yet I wish I had never been born!" Matthew yelled, letting out his steam. The stranger turned his gaze back on Matthew.
"So that's your wish?" The stranger asked. Matthew thought for a moment, before speaking again.
"If wishes could be granted, it would probably be one of them…" The stranger looked to the sky, before turning his gaze back to Matthew once again.
"Fine, there! Your wish has been granted! You've never been born. You are now the freest man in the world!" The stranger said, Matthew gave him a look.
"You've been hitting the flask a little too much, buddy," Matthew said, turning on his heel towards the town again. The man grabbed his shoulder, making Matthew look back him.
"Now, hold on a second lad," Matthew stood there for a moment, waiting. The man took off his satchel, and handed it to Matthew.
"This should help you open doors that will close on your face when you're used to them opened to you," The stranger said, opening the satchel a little to show Matthew what was inside.
"Notebooks?" Matthew asked, looking in the bag, confused, as the stranger nodded. The stranger pulled out a small notepad, with an attached pencil.
"Use this as a sample. Say you're from Hetalia Notebook Company," The man said, placing the notepad back in the bag, and gave Matthew the satchel. Matthew shouldered the satchel, before looking up at the snow.
"You're a strange man, sir. I mean no one would really shut their door on my face, especially since I'm just going home,"
"Trust me, you'll need this," Matthew looked back down from the snow, only to find the man gone. Matthew looked around, not spotting the toga wearing man. Matthew turned on his heel again, headed back to town.
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Matthew walked down Flag Avenue, passing his friend, Lars's house. He looked up at the tall Maple tree above him. He remembered playing and climbing on it when he was little. He had accidently hit it with his truck one day, tearing out a lot of the bark, and leaving a scar. Matthew stepped closer to the tree, placing a hand on it, where the scar is…or was. Matthew patted the trunk, but he could not feel the scar anywhere. Matthew squinted in the dark; it looked as if the scar didn't even exist. Matthew could feel as if something was wrong. He ran down the street towards the town square.
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He ran into the back alley, right behind his bookstore. The light on the backdoor dimmed dully, just how he left it before he went to the bridge.
'Maybe I'm just paranoid…' Matthew walked around towards the front, only to find something he never expected. The top floor had burned down; the windows were boarded up, and had graffiti all over them. A sign on the front door read:
"For Sale
See Feliciano Vargas
Vargas Real Estate Agency"
Matthew looked across the street at the real estate agency he knew was there, spotting a light still on. He ran across the street, glad there were no cars. He opened the doors and called out,
"Hello? Is anyone in?"
"Ve~ Be there in a moment," A voice from the back room called out. He, then, heard a crash and the sound of pots hitting the floor. Matthew looked at the door in surprise.
"Are you alright in there?" Matthew asked. He didn't get an answer, then a man stepped out of the room, rubbing his head. Matthew recognized him as Feliciano.
"Sorry…I was trying to make my dinner. I'm Feliciano Vargas, may I help you?" Feliciano said, stepping closer to Matthew. Matthew nodded.
"I was wondering about the bookstore across the street," Matthew said, Feliciano's eyes seemed to gleam as he stepped closer to his desk.
"Do you wish to purchase it?" Matthew shook his head, making Feliciano pout.
"Sorry. I used to live here a little bit ago. I remember that bookstore being so alive…what happened?" Matthew asked. Feliciano sighed and sat down behind his desk.
"Then, you must not have been here 5 years ago. Hiver Braginski (1) had become the owner of the bookstore. He, then, robbed the bank right next to it, bankrupting most of us, and nearly burned down the bookstore. He disappeared before anyone could catch him," Feliciano said.
"Hiver did that? I used to know him," Matthew said in astonishment. Feliciano looked at him.
"You haven't seen him, have you? Everyone in this town is still angry about it, and my brother wants to have a go with him," Matthew shook his head, and Feliciano seemed to relax. Matthew spoke up again, thinking of Hiver's brother, Ivan. Ivan had been pursuing Gilbert, trying to get Gilbert to go out with him, until Gilbert had laid eyes on Matthew.
"And Hiver's brother, Ivan, how'd he take it?" Feliciano frowned,
"Ivan took to drinking, more than he used to. I feel sorry for Gil and Ivan's sisters," Matthew looked at Feliciano in surprise.
"G-gil?" Matthew said. Feliciano nodded.
"Gilbert Beilschmidt. He and Ivan had married before the Hiver incident happened. Now, we hardly see Gilbert and Ivan's sisters anymore. Ivan keeps them locked up in the house a lot," Feliciano said. Matthew stood up, headed towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Feliciano asked. Matthew looked at him over his shoulder, giving him a weak smile.
"I'm going to see some old friends," With that, Matthew stepped out of the building, and headed towards Maple Lane.
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His mind screamed at him, telling him he should go see Gilbert. He, first, wanted to see his father and his mother. He stepped in front of the gate of his childhood home. He heard a growl approaching the gate; he spotted his dog, Kumajirou.
"Kumakichi!" He reached a hand out to pat his old time pal, only to gain a snarl and a near-bite. The front door opened, just as Matthew pulled his hand away. Matthew's father, Francis, called out for the bear-like dog.
"Kuma! Little thing, leave the man alone. I'm sorry monsieur; he didn't hurt you, did he?" Matthew shook his head. He wanted to cry, hearing his father's French accent, yet the man before him didn't even know him.
"Excuse me; sir…is the missus home?" Matthew asked, quietly, hiding his eyes. Francis looked at him, and nodded.
"Go on inside, I'm going to place Kuma into the dog house, I'll be in after you," Francis said, opening the gate for Matthew. Matthew walked up the path, onto the porch and into the house. He shivered, as he entered the warm house. His mother stepped into the room, blinking in confusion at Matthew. Matthew opened his satchel, pulling out one of the sample notepads.
"Good evening, mademoiselle. I am from Hetalia Notebook Company. Here is one of my samples for you…it's free…" Jeanne smiled at him, taking the sample, before speaking with her light French accent.
"So, traveling salesmen don't celebrate Christmas. Or does your boss not really care?" She chuckled lightly, as did Matthew. Matthew shrugged.
"Don't really have anyone to celebrate with…" Jeanne frowned lightly, gesturing for Matthew to come into the house more and into the living room.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" Jeanne asked. Matthew nodded, making Jeanne smile, and hurry to the kitchen. Matthew looked around the living room, spotting a picture on the mantel piece. It was of his brother, Alfred. Matthew remembered that day. It was the day Alfred won the championship for his baseball team. Later that day, he and Matthew been playing on the railroad. Alfred had fell onto the rail, just as Matthew heard the train thundering towards them. Alfred didn't stand up, having hitting his head. Matthew grabbed him quickly and they both went tumbling down the hill beside the railroad. Francis had stepped back into the room, and placed a hand on Matthew's shoulder.
"You look a little like him…" Francis said, quietly. Jeanne stepped back into the room, carrying the cup of tea. She smiled as she handed it to Matthew. Matthew took a sip, before placing it on the coffee table.
"I'm sorry for the intrusion…I used to live here a couple years ago. I'm trying to get my bearings…I-i believe I met your son before, when I first lived here," Matthew said, quietly, looking away from his mother and father. Francis's and Jeanne's eyes seemed to dim, as Francis asked,
"How many years ago?"
"6, sir," Matthew said, giving a random number. Francis shook his head, as Jeanne seemed to look away, tears making her eyes glimmer.
"Is not possible, monsieur. For you see, h-he died…hours after that photo was taken…" Francis said. Matthew's eyes widened, realizing that without Matthew in Alfred's life, no one could have helped Alfred off the railroad, when he was injured.
"I-i'm sorry…Um…I must go…Happy Christmas," Matthew said, before placing his hand over his mouth. He had just learned that their son, his brother, had died, and he just wished them a Happy Christmas. Matthew showed himself out, headed for the house he and Gilbert had lived in. Gilbert had inherited the house, when his grandfather had passed. Once he and Matthew married, Matthew moved in. Now, for sure, Ivan lived there.
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Matthew knocked on the front door of Gilbert's home. The door opened quickly, and Matthew was greeted with the sight of Gilbert, who looked exhausted. Gilbert gave him a once-over and asked,
"May I help you?" Matthew stumbled, opening the satchel and grabbed a random notebook. It was leather-bound, with a clasp. Clearly, it was not one of the samples, but Matthew didn't care. He moved his hand forward, towards Gilbert.
"G-good evening, sir. I'm from Hetalia Notebook Company…here…take one of our samples…" Matthew said. Gilbert looked at the notebook, before taking the notebook into his hand. Gilbert smiled.
"Thanks dude…" Matthew nodded, and smiled.
"Um…do you think I could step inside for a moment? It's a bit nippy out here," Matthew asked. Gilbert looked behind himself, and opened the door a little, letting Matthew in.
"Only for a little bit…My husband will be home soon," Matthew nodded, stepping inside. Gilbert placed the notebook on the couch, before the door behind Matthew opened again. Gilbert froze in place, and stared at the person behind Matthew.
"I-ivan…" Matthew turned, coming face to face with Ivan, who looked at him with curiosity.
"And who might you be?" Ivan asked a childish glee in his voice.
"I'm a traveling salesman from Hetalia Notebook Company," Matthew answered quickly. Ivan smiled.
"Ah…we do not wish to purchase anything…now if you please show yourself to the door," Ivan said. Matthew looked over his shoulder at Gilbert. Gilbert's eyes pleaded him to go, and he stepped towards the door.
"M-merry Christmas…" Matthew said, sadly, as he stepped out the door. Once the door closed behind him, he ran as fast as he could towards the bridge.
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The stranger sat on the railing, waiting for Matthew. Matthew leaned against the light pole, catching his breath.
"I…Want…My…Life…Back…" Matthew said, through breaths. The stranger looked at him,
"You've made your wish…You had the Greatest Gift God could give you, and you chose not to have it. You, now, have seen what this town would be like without you…yet now you want the gift back," The stranger said.
"Who are you?" Matthew said, giving the stranger a look.
"Arthur…an AS2,"
"A what?"
"An angel , second class. More specially your guardian angel," Arthur said, looking at Matthew.
"If you're an angel…then, why don't you have your wings?" Matthew asked, Arthur frowned.
"Haven't earned them yet…" Matthew shook his head, before going back on topic,
"I want my life back. Please, whoever you are. I want to live again. I want to be with my family, and my husband and children again," Matthew said. Arthur smiled, just as the snow around them got more intense. Matthew could barely see in front of him.
"Wish granted! Happy Christmas!" He could hear over the snow. Matthew started to make his way back to town, the snow started to subside a little. He went up Flag Avenue, spotting the Maple tree. He saw the scar, and ran up to the tree and hugged it. Lars had chosen that moment to step outside.
"Started smoking again, buddy?" Lars said with a smile. Matthew laughed, and waved at his friend, wishing him a Merry Christmas. Matthew, then, started running down the street towards his bookstore. He spotted it intact, he ran further down the street, nearly running into Feliciano.
"Ve~ Matthew! Careful, Ludwig wouldn't be too happy if I came home injured again," Feliciano said, with a smile and a giggle. Matthew smiled back at him, wishing him a Happy Christmas.
Matthew's next stop was his parents' house. He petted his dog, Kumapario, maybe one day he'll remember the dog's name. His brother opened the door, giving Matthew a strange look.
"Mattie, what are you doi-"Alfred was tackled by Matthew before he could finish his question. The two brothers laughed as they wrestled on the porch. Their mother and father stepped outside, watching them. Matthew stood up, and hugged his father, as well, as hugged and kissed his mother on both cheeks. He wished them all a Merry Christmas, and promised them that he'll be back in the morning.
Matthew ran down the street, running right into his front door, too happy to pay attention to where he was going. He fell backwards into the snow, as Gilbert opened the door.
"Birdie…what the hell! Are you ok?" Gilbert asked, walking up close to him. Matthew laughed again, grabbing Gilbert's hand, pulling him into the snow. Their sons, Jacques and Frederick, came to the front door.
"Papa!" They ran towards the couple, smiling happily. Once their feet touched the cold snow, the two children turned tail back into the house. Gilbert pulled Matthew out of the snow.
"Come on, let's make sure you're still good in the head, Birdie,"
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Matthew looked at Gilbert, and smiled again.
"I must have dazed off at work again…I had the strangest of dreams…" Matthew sat down onto the couch, fully intended on telling Gilbert the story. Except he had placed his hand down on something that felt familiar. He grabbed it, pulling it close to his face. Gilbert stared at him, as Matthew opened the notebook.
"Matthew, remember no man is a failure who has friends," Matthew smiled lightly, as a bell above him rung. Jacques pulled on his sleeve, making Matthew look at him.
"Papa…did you hear? Everytime a bell rings, an angel gets their wings!" Jacques said, happily before Frederick pulled him up the steps, claiming it's bedtime, and almost time for Santa to be here. Gilbert smiled at their son's antics, before pulling Matthew into a Christmas.
"Merry Christmas, Birdie," Gilbert kissed him again, Matthew pulled away,
"Merry Christmas, mon amor," Gilbert smiled again, kissing him again. Matthew looked out the window, at the sky.
'Merry Christmas Arthur. Thank you and you're welcome,'
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Hiver Braninski…is General Winter….couldn't think of anything, and needed a character for that. Hiver is the French term for Winter.
I'm currently writing this at 5 in the morning, Christmas morning. I'm watching The Producers…just realized something. John Barrowman's outfit in Springtime for Hitler looks a lot like Prussia's military uniform…or maybe it's my sleep deprived mind…Well, night everyone…oh and MERRY CHRISTMAS! Ren~signing out!