Alone in an unfamiliar land for years, Canada wonders if he will ever see a familiar face again. Written for starlenia's birthday. :D Which was a bit ago, but... yeah! Her suggestion was 'really sad Russia/Canada'. I'm not good with sad stories, and this is what I ended up with. ^^; Uncreative title is uncreative. XD

Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.


Canada woke early and walked to the edge of the ocean, as he did every morning. A molten glow was cast on the waves by the rising sun, and a cool breeze ruffled Canada's hair. Everything was so much like home, it made his heart ache, as it did every day.

He waited on the shore, not thinking, until the sun was well into the blue sky. The ocean was marred only by natural debris and the occasional bird he did not even know the name of. He hadn't really expected to find anything, but it had become routine.

Canada heaved a deep sigh, then returned to his small home at the edge of the still-rising new city. It was called Urbis, the country was Patria. They meant 'city' and 'homeland' in Latin; not very creative, but what did it matter when one was starting over from scratch?

Before he made it to his little house, Canada spotted a tiny figure lingering near it, and quickly hid behind a tree. He didn't want to talk to the child today. He rarely did. He supposed he should feel guilty for ignoring Patria, but he just couldn't muster it up.

So Canada walked back toward the beach, ignoring his grumbling stomach. He could have killed for a nice stack of pancakes or something similar, but they had yet to find a tree with sap similar to the maple. He'd have to put fruit on it, or something, and the local fruit still tasted strange to him.

Everything was strange.

The new planet had been discovered shortly after the creation of faster, safer space exploration, and had shocked the world with its similarity to Earth. What were the odds of finding another planet that was just the right distance from its star, full of oxygen and water and was capable of supporting life, and did in fact already contain animals?

The discovery had come just in time. Only a few short decades later, disaster struck the Earth, and the newly discovered planet had become the only hope for humanity's survival.

Giant ships were built as quickly as they could to transport as many people as possible to their new home. The nations had acquired a smaller ship, all to themselves.

Halfway there, the nations' transport ship also struck disaster, and they were forced to evacuate. The escape pods, programmed with the coordinates to take them to a certain spot on the new planet, were made to carry one or two people. They were plenty roomy though, with quite a bit of storage space for supplies, and a couple seats that could be slept on. Canada had selected one to sit in, and waited for somebody to join him. A friend, a relative, an acquaintance, anyone. But the door had sealed with him alone inside, and jettisoned him away from the dying ship, along with numerous other pods.

He had spent most of the trip sleeping. There wasn't much else to do, aside from sustaining himself with the blah rations.

Until he had awakened to realize he was hurtling into the atmosphere of the planet that would be his new home, crashing into the ocean shortly after. He had turned out to be the first to arrive, the only other inhabitants being the humans who had traveled there first, to prepare for the impending onslaught of humanity.

And arrive they did, one by one, until all of the human ships but one were accounted for. That last ship was eventually considered lost.

As for the nations, Canada never found out. He kept waiting, looking out to the ocean every day, but none of the others turned up. A house was built for Canada. And as soon as the first settled country was named and thought of as their new home, the child nation had shown up, drawn to Canada. He knew she just wanted advice and help, but it was painful. She was essentially their first replacement on this planet.

The years had passed in a dull blur. Canada no longer believed he would see any of the other nations again.

Not wanting to return home until Patria gave up and left, Canada settled down in the sand, picking up a rock to fling into the waves. A sea bird winged by with a lonely call, and Canada followed its passing with his eyes. He didn't know the names of any of the animal species, having not paid much attention to what the humans were coming up with in that respect.

He stared up at the sky, as blue as Earth's. Beyond that was the deep black of space he had spent who knew how long hurtling through. Were the others still lost out there somewhere? Was it even possible that any of them were still alive? Their rations would have run out years ago, and they would be weakened with their land gone.

Canada's only hope was that their coordinates had been screwed up, and they had landed elsewhere on the planet. And some day, when air travel was recreated and working properly, he could find them again.

It was the only thing that kept him going, really.

Maybe he wouldn't even wait that long, and would try traveling the old fashioned way. At least a voyage by ship would be something new to try, after years of boredom and increasingly crushing depression.

"Please don't avoid me," a tiny voice piped up behind him. Canada didn't turn. "I just want to know more... it isn't my fault the others didn't make it."

"I know," Canada said. His already quiet voice had grown raspy after years of disuse.

"Please..." A small hand touched his back. "There will be more. And I won't be able to tell them much."

"Another day." He stood, still not looking at the petite brunette girl. "I promise."

"You have been saying that for years!"

"We still haven't reached that day. I'm sorry..." Before she could say anything else, Canada turned and fled back to his house.


He made his way back to the beach, another morning, munching on a piece of fruit that was sweet and blue but he didn't know the name of. The usual scene was spread out before them. The glint of early morning light on metal was so unusual, he didn't even really notice it; his mind blocked out the random difference in the scenery.

Canada blinked, slowly turning toward the metal object. Something from the settlers, of course. Littering in the oceans already, only to have the debris wash right back. He stepped closer, not even hoping for a miracle, having long since given up.

"Oh..." He ran a hand along the familiar metal surface of the dented pod. It wasn't his; his was in his house. He had seen it that morning.

"Oh!" Overcome by a sudden wave of emotion he had thought died years ago, Canada fumbled with the latch, struggling to get the door open. Who was it? One of them? One of the humans from the ship of theirs that had never made it? Whoever it was would be dead, human or nation, after all that time. But he didn't even care. Even a dead body to bury was better than never knowing!

Hands shaking, it took Canada several tries to finally pry the stupid door open. He stepped inside, heart thudding.

Curled up on the pod's seat was a familiar figure in a coat and scarf. Canada gave a low cry and collapsed to his knees beside Russia's prone form, pawing at the scarf, trying to get a better view of his face. "It's really you? Oh my god. I never thought I'd see anyone again, let alone you..." Russia's face looked thinner than usual, though far from starved. Canada peered at him for a moment, confused. Nor was he... well... rotten. Not that Canada knew much about what happened to their kind after death. "You look alive."

"Hm," Russia said, and Canada jerked away with a scream. "Wha...?" A pair of violet eyes slowly opened, and peered around the pod. "Who's there?"

"R-Russia?" Canada stared at him, jaw hanging open. "Ivan? You're alive..."

"Canada?" He frowned, pushing himself upright. "This is a dream."

"I was thinking the same thing," Canada breathed. "Are you real?" He stepped closer to the real enough seeming mirage and reached out to tug on his scarf, to feel his cheek. "How?" His eyes started to sting with tears he had long since thought cried out. "How could you still be alive?"

"A ship." Russia batted Canada's hands away, pulling the slightly smaller nation into his arms. "My pod bumped into one of the human ships, floating dead. I was able to maneuver the pod onto it. There was nobody inside except a few bodies, but there were plenty of supplies. I crammed as many as I could into the pod, reprogrammed the coordinates into it, and set off again."

Canada bit his lip. "You've been in there all this time?"

"Yes. I have finally reached the planet?"

He nodded, clinging to Russia as if afraid he would turn to mist and be gone.

"Where-"

"Why did you get lost in the first place?" Canada interrupted.

"Ah... my pod ran into another one, and we both got knocked off course."

"Oh..."

"I worried about that one. How many pods are unaccounted for?" When Canada didn't answer, Russia stepped away. "Matvey?"

"All of them," Canada said, voice dropping into the dull tone, dead of emotion, he had acquired during his time alone. "I arrived years ago, when we were all supposed to, but I was alone. The only ones who showed up were the humans, aside from that one lost ship. You're the first nation besides me to show up."

Russia stared at Canada, not smiling like he always used to.

"Come on," Canada said, before Russia could dwell on it too much. "I'm sure you're ready to stand on land again, and eat some decent food."

"I... yes."

Together, they walked out onto the beach, Russia squinting in the sudden daylight. Canada watched him, watched as Russia's face filled with a wonder he couldn't remember ever seeing on his face before, as he took in the sight of a beautiful planet for the first time in so long.

"Looks just like home, eh?" Canada took his hand.

"It does. What is this place called?"

"The country is Patria. The closest city is Urbis, that is where I live."

"And... Patria..."

Canada knew what he was asking, of course. "She is here. A child, still. The only one so far, the humans haven't settled any other countries yet."

"Ah..."

Canada stepped closer, and Russia put an arm around him. His embrace was much weaker than Canada remembered, but that was understandable. He didn't care. It was a real embrace, from a real nation. One he cared about. One that it would take Canada a few days to convince himself was really truly there.

"Will we live long?" Russia said, staring out at the ocean, just as Canada had spent so much time doing.

"We should live for at least another generation, I think. Until the humans think of themselves as Patrians, and whatever other nationality they come up with, rather than Canadians and Russians and the like."

"That's something."

"Yeah." It had seemed like a long time, when Canada thought he would be spending it alone. Now that he wasn't, it was all too short.

"We have many things to tell the new nations, hm?"

"Yes." Canada gave a guilty flinch. But it would be easier to talk to Patria, now that he had somebody. "I still can't believe..."

"I know." Russia tilted Canada's face up and kissed him.

Canada melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Russia and squeezing his teary eyes shut.

If it was a dream, hopefully he wouldn't wake.