Matthew Williams had never felt loved.
He was the country nobody noticed, the soul nobody knew; he was the brother who was constantly forgotten and the ineffectual ghost. Every day he dealt with those assigned identities and suffered from them. He was not a brave nation on the outside, but deep in his heart he wished to be so- if only for the attention.
His own boss didn't know him. His best friend constantly mistook him for his southern brother. His dearest companion couldn't even remember his name.
How could Canada be so consistently overlooked?
It was that way and it was painful (Maple if it wasn't), but even throughout his years of loneliness, he managed to hold himself together. The reclusive boy raised by England and France became an undeniably shy man, but everyone who knew there were two American brothers knew both could only truly thrive on attention. No wonder, then, that the one who was never noticed suffered.
But maple syrup, if he wasn't Matthew Williams, he wouldn't be able to deal with it. It was hard, and it was depressing, but he always managed to power through... well, at least until his economy took a downturn.
It was sudden, violent- Canada went in days from a perfectly healthy man-nation to a ragged lump on the floor, hacking and coughing. He could hardly stand at times. After the strikes and anarchists reared their ugly heads, he was covered in scratches and nasty bruises in addition to the foul illness he'd contracted. He would try to pull himself off of the floor of his bedroom and collapse in a heap of pain. Kuma-whatsit(he could never remember the polar bear's name, and it made him feel like dirt to admit it) brought him food and even helped him eat, but food alone could not sustain an entire nation.
And in spite of his need, all his wishes and prayers and falling stars, nobody but that silly polar bear ever came to help.
When the world meeting finally began to approach, America at least took some notice that his brother wasn't responding to his e-mails. With no government transport available for the Canadian- his boss could never see him, didn't believe in him- the brothers had taken to travelling together to the world meeting, and the only things America never forgot concerning his brother were their travel arrangements.
So America paid a house call to his dear brother for the first time in many long years and found him lying on the ground, his clothes stiff with his own dried blood, his body surrounded by dirty food dishes and crumbs and a white polar bear whose fur was turning yellow from lack of baths.
After the general freak-out over his sibling's deteriorating health, America (The hero, Canada supposed Alfred probably thought himself for 'rescuing' him) rushed his dear brother to a hospital. The nation recovered to some extent: just enough that Alfred convinced him to attend the meeting, promised it'd be worth his while, and bought him a nice, bright red wheelchair for the event.
So America took his brother to the meeting in London, and promptly forgot about him.
Gilbert Beilschmidt was having a surprisingly awesome day when he first noticed the nation everyone seemed to forget.
For the first time in years, his dear brother Ludwig had taken him along to the World Conference. Every time one occurred, he begged to go, to participate, to relive his awesomely glorious days as a nation; almost every time Germany turned away, reminding him that the Conference was for those who still numbered among the countries. And, as much as Gilbert hoped and begged and pleaded to the stars, they both knew no amount of wishes and no expression of awesomeness could ever return Prussia to his former glory.
It was only after promising to do chores without any manner of bribery for a whole week and swearing he would completely avoid the dummkopf for two entire days that West relented, and even then he suspected that was largely due to his younger brother's boss(who had always been slightly partial to the elder of the two).
So he went to the meeting, and he sat, and he argued with the other nations about anything he could think of- although particularly with a certain red-haired Scotsman about the various qualities of alcoholic beverages(and how beer was the awesomest, as opposed to whatever Allistor had back home). Then South Korea jumped in, and before he could blink they had half of the conference attendees yelling at each other about who had better pubs and bars and how high-quality their booze was compared to everyone else's.
To put it frankly, Gilbert was rather proud. To create chaos like that... well, it took effort, man. It took awesomeness. Even at a world meeting where nothing would ever go as planned despite their best efforts, it was difficult. He'd even got West involved. How awesome was that?
After arguing his points on German beer for several minutes, he managed to back out of the massive group he had helped create and take stock of those who had wisely (and un-awesomely) chosen to stay out of it. He saw Liechtenstein, Switzerland(who clearly wanted to participate as well but was being held back by his 'little sister'), Japan, and a couple of the smaller nations like Seychelles(although Sealand had managed to get his underaged self right into the thick of it, arguing on the side of French wine just to annoy England). He scanned the room and saw nobody else he really knew.
Wait...
There, on the other side of the room, was somebody he almost not quite recognized. Prussia had no idea how he'd missed the guy before (that red hoodie with the maple leaf was blatantly obvious), but his immediate thought was Is that... America?
He glanced back at the warring group of alcoholics in confusion and saw the man known as Alfred F. Jones right in the middle of the argument. If it's not him, then who...?
He turned back to the other man, furrowing his brow. The America-lookalike occupied a wheelchair and had an exhausted, weary air about him. Prussia supposed it could have been some mortal citizen who'd accidentally wandered into the meeting(sadly, that happened far more often than one would think), but the man didn't look confused or disgruntled or terrified at all- no need to sick France on him yet, even if he was human.
Prussia almost went over to talk to the mysterious crippled nation(Who could possibly or even likely be a normal human), but then West pulled him back into the mass of fighting people to argue on the ethnicity of Germany's multiple and prosperous breweries, and he saw no more of the boy that day.
The next time he saw the nation was when he and Germany took a small vacation to America. After the totally not-awesome hamburger-loving New Worlder gave them an official national tour out of courtesy for their visit, the brothers stopped in an amusement park for their last few days in the country. Prussia had to admit, this particular American kind of fun was fun even when it was childish- and he'd gotten a few nice pictures of Germany screaming his head off on the one rollercoaster he had been able to persuade the stiff-necked nation to go on. Oddly enough, it was actually just after the rollercoaster- while he was waiting for his younger brother to stop washing his hands (Honestly. He knew Germany was throwing up, the people in the bathroom knew Germany was throwing up, and, thanks to the magic of texting, half of the other nations would know he was throwing up within the next five minutes. Lying wasn't gonna help anything; West should have just told the truth.) on a bench by an awesome log ride- that he saw the guy.
Gilbert had been fiddling with their all-week passes(Courtesy of the slightly more awesome than normal America), looking gleefully at the awesome rides and wondering how much beer it would take to get Germany drunk enough to get on them all, when he heard a voice. It was soft and quiet and oddly sad, and Prussia felt like he should know it even though he was positive he'd never heard it before.
"One day I'll confront them about this. One day!"
"Who are you?" This second voice was high-pitched, squeaky, and somewhat inconsiderate.
The man's voice sighed. "I'm Canada."
"Feed me. I'm hungry."
"I didn't bring enough money for food. America promised he'd pay for us if we went."
Prussia turned around, and saw a man clutching a polar bear walking away from him, his shoulders stiff in a telltale sign of stress. He didn't recognize the dude from the back so much (completely un-awesome on his part, because he was sure he knew him), but he was fairly sure it had to be the guy from the meeting- Canada, he guessed? Maybe the human really was a nation. But if he was, then what the heck was he doing in America of all places? Deep inside his awesome mind, he figured they had to be either siblings or- even awesomer- clones. Did America have clones? Maybe it was a state?
When Germany got out of the bathroom, Prussia asked him about it.
"Vhat? Canada?" The blonde-haired man seemed a little confused (And also a little green, but Prussia was too focused on the question at hand to tease him about it). "No, that is America's brother to the north, not a state. Vhere have you even heard of him? I have only seen him a few times, myself."
"He vas at the Conference." Prussia said.
Ludwig shook his head. "Nein, I didn't notice him."
"He vas sitting right across from the awesome me. Didn't you see him? He vas vearing a bright red hoodie and holding a polar bear. That's hard to miss, West. This just proves I am more awesome than you are."
"Seriously? Nein, I vould have noticed him if he vas there. It's not possible."
Prussia frowned, wondering why his own brother hadn't noticed the injured nation that went by the name of Canada. That was totally and completely un-awesome.
He decided to lecture his brother later, feeling he had more important things to get done- awesomer things.
So... This Canada guy was America's brother, huh?
The third time Prussia saw Canada was late one afternoon, about a month after their American vacation. He was at his own awesome house, and Germany was out getting the wurst for dinner (Wurst for once, and not pasta! He was awesomely pleased). Gilbird was clicking through the channels on the TV, and Gilbert himself was so un-awesomely bored that he resorted to sitting in Germany's favorite chair upside down so all the blood rushed to his head for entertainment. Truly desperate measures, but he was too awesome to have nothing to do.
Germany had been gone for about ten minutes when he heard the doorbell ring- once, twice. He groaned and got up, awesomely prepared to yell at the tenacious guest for disturbing his pointless and somewhat not-awesome entertainment- and before dinner, too? How dare the intruder! If he had Switzerland's gun obsession, the un-awesome invader would have been dead already.
Prussia marched awesomely to the door and flung it open. "How dare you intrude on my awesomeness!" He yelled.
A (sadly) familiar face squeaked and cowered. Italy, the pasta-loving coward, undoubtedly come to visit Ludwig like he had been almost every day for the past fifty years or so. (Secretly, Prussia was wondering when they'd finally admit their love and get together- not that he ever said that out loud. It was so obvious sometimes it hurt to see them so clueless- their half-glances, all the pasta West made him eat, the badly-hidden blushes... His brother was so not awesome at recognizing romance.)
Gilbert took another breath to yell, but then he noticed who was behind the first invader.
His first glance took in the boy as America, but then with a start he realized it was actually Canada. He didn't know how, exactly, he knew; the only big difference was the northern nation's lack of a cowlick. Maybe it was the way he held himself, or his eyes- which, Prussia realized, while close to blue, were actually a pale shade of violet. Prussia shut his mouth and sighed- West would kill him if he was rude to Feliciano, and for some reason he didn't really understand he didn't actually want to insult the interesting nation standing nearby. "Vhat do you vant, Italy?" He asked rather flatly. His voice was still undeniably awesome.
"What? Ohhh~" The pasta-freak stood up straight again. "I didn't think it was you, Prussia! I thought it was some scary monster or something~"
"I asked, vhat do you vant?" Prussia leaned forward with a threatening smirk (he purposely made his lip twitch so he looked like he was about to explode), and the smaller nation flinched again.
"I was just going to introduce my new friend to Germany! Veee~"
Prussia glanced back up at Canada, who seemed a little surprised, and then back down at Italy. "Ludwig is out getting dinner." He leaned back. "Kesesese..." The two nations flinched once more at his awesome laugh, but by now Italy was used to it and he guessed Canada was tolerant to stuff like that, too- for old Fritz's sake, the guy's brother was America. That was totally not awesome. He felt a moral backlash at the sight of the latter cowering, but moral backlashes were to be dealt with away from house guests (Or so old Fritz had said, and the old man was never wrong).
"Oh~ Well, can we come in and wait on him?" Italy grinned up at the albino man, who sighed.
"Fine." He said awesomely, and just as awesomely held the door open for them to enter. Once again, Canada seemed surprised when Prussia beckoned him in.
I feel like a creeper right now. Prussia thought to himself as his brother's best friend began leading the quiet America-lookalike around the house. With nothing better to do, he felt obligated to follow; sitting upside down in chairs could only be awesome for so long, of course, and that time had passed when something more awesome started happening. Why touring his own house was so awesome, he had no idea.
From the back, Gilbert could see nothing unusual about Italy's new friend. But when he told the pair about a specific room or item and they turned to watch him, he began to realize that Canada's face was still tired and gaunt. There was a scar all along his forehead and a second on one of his cheeks. His hair was ruffled and messy but at the same time limp, as though he hadn't showered or brushed it for a while. Even worse, when the Canadian walked, he also sagged, like he hardly had the energy to keep upright.
Prussia felt a little sorry for his fellow nation, reminded of a time when his awesome self had acted as such. Back when his awesome nation had faded away. Back when he'd almost died.
He did not want to go through anything like that again, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he hoped nobody else would have to, either.
Well, maybe Austria, but whatever. That un-awesome piano freak deserved whatever he got, but the awesome Prussia would never let something like that happen to sein kleiner Bruder or any of the nations he considered friends.
And, as he watched Canada and Italy talking about one of the tapestries on the wall, he realized he didn't want to let the New Worlder go down without a fight, either.
By the time Germany returned with the wurst, their tour was complete and the trio was relaxing in the living room. Ludwig didn't seem too entirely surprised by Italy's presence and hardly acknowledged their second guest at all (Which was odd, because Germany was usually fairly welcoming to guests so long as they obeyed house rules).
Judging by Canada's almost neutral reaction to the unfair treatment, Prussia guessed the guy got ignored a lot more than he let on.
Still, when nobody bothered to pass their fellow nation a plate at dinner, Gilbert wondered exactly how far this ignore-a-Canadian game went with the others. It was totally not awesome to ignore a guest like that.
Prussia glared at Germany and Italy and passed his own plate to Canada. He got up to get his own.
Germany blinked. "Vhat?"
"You forgot to give Canada a plate, so like the completely and utterly awesome person I am I gave him mine." Prussia said.
"Vhat? There is no Canada here." Ludwig looked around the table and his eyes hit the shy nation dead on.
As Prussia watched in mounting anger, West's eyes passed completely over the quiet man instead of apologizing like a proper host.
"Ja, there is! Italy brought him, remember?" Prussia protested.
"Whaaaat?" Italy looked inexplicably confused. "B-but I didn't bring anyone! But wait, yes I did... No I didn't..." The curly-haired nation's brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could come up with a solid answer he caught sight of what Ludwig had just set down on the table: a heaping bowl of...
"Pastaaaa~" Italy exclaimed happily, soon becoming lost in the world of food once more.
Prussia was confused(And not about why his brother had made both pasta and wurst for dinner instead of just the latter like originally planned; it was obvious that, at least, was due to his 'secret' crush on one Feliciano Vargas) and, quite frankly, rather angry. "Vhat?! Vhy do you not remember him?! You called him your friend just an hour ago!"
"Uhm, Prussia..." Canada began quietly, but by the time he spoke Prussia was neck-deep in a rant about friendships and Canadians, and judging by how both Italy and Germany were cowering it was probably very fierce on the receiving end.
"It is not awesome to forget your friends! You should be ashamed for being so against the rule of awesome! I should just leave your heads outside on spikes for this!"
"Prussia..." Canada repeated. He swallowed and raised his voice in an attempt to get the ex-nation to listen. "Prussia. Prussia!"
The last one came out far louder than he'd intended it to, and even though his voice was still a little whispery all three of the offending nations took notice. Prussia, still furious with his younger brother and the Italian, rounded on Canada with a glare that lessened only slightly when he saw who had spoken. Germany cast the quiet nation a fast, somewhat surprised glance, but quickly returned to his wurst. Italy beamed and waved hello before digging into his pasta.
"It's okay, Prussia." Canada's voice had returned to its normal volume, and Prussia had to lean in a little bit to hear him properly. "Everybody ignores me. I'm used to it." He took a lonely bite of wurst and kept his eyes focused on the (immaculately clean) tablecloth.
"Vell, that's not awesome at all." Prussia snorted.
They spent most of the rest of dinner sitting in companionable silence.
Germany, personally, was wondering who the strange guest was and what the heck he'd done with Prussia. He would have mentioned it, but Italy dragged him into a conversation about the Roman Empire ('Grandpa Rome') and he found himself too deep into the subject to worry about how his brother wasn't interrupting with obnoxious comments like usual.
The next time Prussia saw Canada was, once again, a momentary thing.
He'd been caught by Hungary trying to sneak up on Austria, and was being dragged by the violent girl into the very house he'd been trying to infiltrate moments before. She had an iron grip on his arm, and her other hand brandished her signature frying pan threateningly. He already had an oversized lump on his head from earlier, and, bearing no desire to be un-awesomely conked on the head again, he was going along fairly willingly with only the occasional rude comment and mutter.
He was being dragged through a hallway when he caught a glimpse through an open door and saw America.
Standing next to him was a familiar face, a man holding a miniature polar bear. This second man turned towards him, and he caught a glimpse of violet eyes before Hungary dragged him past the room and onwards to Austria's office.
"Why are you slowing down?" Prussia felt the frying pan connect with his head once again, and he quickly picked up the pace, leaving the lonely nation far behind.
After that particular incident, Prussia didn't see Canada again for most of the remainder of the year. Life went on as awesomely as possible, Germany went on being as much of a neat freak as usual, and overall Gilbert deemed the year was, to put it frankly, utterly awesome.
Christmastime was approaching, and America once more 'invited' all of the nations to a massive party. While Prussia knew Ludwig would have preferred to stay home for the holiday, neither of them particularly wanted an all-out war with Alfred for no good reason. So off to the New World they went, hoping they could leave soon enough to celebrate their own substantially more awesome Christmas at home without looking dangerously ungrateful.
When they entered the world conference room, it was already packed with nations. Prussia, being, of course, the most awesome person in the room, immediately mixed with the previous arrivals and was soon laughing gutturally with Scotland, France, and Spain. Germany wandered off to find Italy like he'd promised earlier in the year (although Italy did end up finding Ludwig first, Prussia was told later, and Spain lost a lot of money in a bet with Romano as to who would find who).
He spent the first hour or so talking with the three awesome people he considered his friends. After all, if he had to stay for the party, he might as well enjoy himself, and of all the other nations these few were the ones he'd chosen to associate himself with. Well, them, and Austria, and Hungary, and Germany.
And Canada.
Some of Prussia's awesome humor left him as he remembered America's sibling and realized he hadn't seen the guy yet. Surely the nation was attending? Alfred had even invited Sealand, of all people; could he really forget his own brother so easily?
Well, that un-awesome thought sure put off his holiday mood.
Scotland (who, despite his rough-and-tumble personality and horrible smoking habits, was actually fairly adept at sensing the mood) was the first to notice Prussia's lack of mirth. England's eldest brother clapped an arm around the shorter man's shoulders and offered him a cheesy grin, "Hey, why the long face? Don't put a damper on th' party. Nobody likes a joykill."
Prussia mustered up a smirk as Spain and France looked over. He downed the last of his beer in a single gulp and proceeded to wave the glass around. "The awesome me must excuse myself to get more awesome beer. Stay awesome, guys!" He laughed, and the others laughed with him, and then he vanished into the crowd.
C'mon, c'mon... Where would a shy Canadian be hiding in the midst of this massive party?
Prussia wasn't sure why, exactly, he wanted to talk to Canada. The nation was nothing like his other friends, always quiet and respectful as opposed to the outgoing and often un-awesomely annoying qualities of France, Spain, and Scotland- and while the idiot factor in the trio may have been off the charts, Prussia knew what he liked in a friend, and Canada had none of it.
He cursed himself for his un-awesome confusion and decided it would be best just to head for the beer like he'd said he would. But as he began to walk towards the long refreshment-bearing table, he saw America out of the corner of his eye, surrounded by the former Allies (minus Russia, who hadn't been invited due to an incident involving their host and a metal pipe a few months prior to the current occasion).
Prussia cast a longing glance at the amber liquid that was made of awesome and sighed. He needed to know where Canada was, and Alfred was the only one who could tell him.
The former Allies quieted as he swaggered up and shot a glare at America. "Hey, listen, you loser. I vant to know vhere your brother is." He leaned forward threateningly, inwardly wondering exactly how much alcohol he must've had if he was stupid enough to threaten a world power, and locked his red eyes with the somewhat flustered country's blue ones.
"...Wait, what?" America blinked once, twice, and looked at him in confusion. "Y'mean Canada?"
Gilbert sourly wondered how much alcohol the hamburger-loving un-awesome freak had had. Far more than him, it seemed; the guy was barely standing upright. "No, Nova Scotia. Of course I'm talking about Canada, idiot! Vhere is he?"
America blinked a few more times, his eyes rather unfocused. "Matthew... He's... In the room... Over by the-" The country wobbled and began to collapse in a drunken haze.
Pale arms caught Alfred F. Jones, pulling him back up and slapping him awake. Prussia turned and realized, with a mixed sense of shock and relief, that the very nation he had come seeking was holding the drunken man upright.
The other nations, England in particular, jumped at the sudden and inexplicable appearance of Matthew. Canada promptly passed his brother off to China with a mumbled 'sorry' and sunk back into the crowd.
But, dang it, if Prussia was any one thing he was persistent.
And awesome, of course, but that was a given.
Gilbert immediately dashed off in pursuit of the nation, almost bowling over Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia (Who were trying to escape Belarus, who had promised her brother she'd watch them for whatever reason), but Matthew was following was far more nimble than he'd expected- and, despite the bright red hoodie, surprisingly good at blending into crowds. Before he'd crossed a quarter of the room, Canada had vanished once more.
Gilbert came to a stop, feeling lost even though he knew his way around the conference hall as well as anyone did- for old Fritz's sake, the thing was just an open area! He still hadn't figured out how Italy had gotten lost in the room five times before, once for several days.
Prussia groaned, rubbing his forehead, and decided to take a walk.
Man, he was out of it today.
Desperate for some quiet time(Perhaps the first or second occasion in his entire awesome life he felt like there was too much talking to think; he was usually the cause of all that white noise), Prussia slunk out of the room and into the long, twisting hallways beyond. Unlike the conference hall, these were easy to get lost in, with hundreds of identical doorways and few distinguishing features. Italy had once gotten lost in these for a few months; it had sent West into a frenzy, yet more evidence that his little brother cared more than he'd admit.
It was, Gilbert decided, a perfectly awesome place to think.
Over the next hour, he did his best to get completely lost. It wasn't very hard, but wherever he went, he could always hear the sounds of the Christmas party- raised voices, thuds, and after a certain point explosively loud music. Typical American celebration.
Prussia finally stopped walking, somewhere in the basement of the building judging by how the endless sound seemed to be coming from above. Funny, he'd always thought the conference room was soundproofed; maybe the door was open or something?
Prussia thought about his fellow nations for a moment and shook his head. No, they couldn't be that loud... could they? It was soundproofed.
He sighed, feeling somewhat less awesome than normal, and leaned awesomely against the wall. Nothing for it, he supposed. This would just end up being the worst Christmas ever... except for one, but that didn't count. That couldn't be called a Christmas.
"Hey, Prussia..."
Gilbert jumped at the quiet voice and turned around to face the intruder. "Canada? But how did you...?"
"I just turned the corner and I saw you." Matthew replied. "A-are you okay...?"
Prussia hid a frown beneath one of his signature smirks. "Of course I'm okay! I'm Prussia." He turned away and cast his fellow nation a sidelong glance. "Quite frankly, if I vere you, I'd be more vorried about myself."
"Me..?" Canada looked concerned, but the expression quickly turned to distraught when he realized what Prussia was saying. "Oh, can you still tell?"
"Dude, there are scratches and scars all over your face. Only a blind frog vouldn't be able to tell. Also, you are unusually skinny." Prussia's half smirk lessened. "Vhat un-awesome thing happened to you?"
"My economy crashed." The New Worlder shivered as a draft of wind penetrated the old building, pulling his hoodie tighter around him. "A-and then- anarchists- revolution-" His eyes went wide with fear for a moment, but with another shudder (not so much due to cold this time, Gilbert guessed) he settled down and leaned- slumped, more like- against the wall next to his fellow nation. "Everything's settled down now and America's helping me out more than he usually does, but it still hurts."
"...You had an entire revolt?" Prussia asked, surprised.
Canada nodded miserably. "It's not that strange... is it?"
Gilbert chuckled under his breath. "It's nothing. It just doesn't seem like something you vould be involved in, such a peaceful nation..." His smile twitched slightly- he was desperately trying to refrain from marching off to Canada and yelling at the guy's boss until Germany placed him under house arrest, not that he'd say something like that out loud.
Canada sighed. "I guess there were a lot of rebels I didn't know about. When they came out, I couldn't do anything useful... it was like being torn apart from the inside..." He shot his fellow nation another glance. "You've never really had a civil war, have you?"
"No, but I'm awesome enough to have gotten into many vars." Gilbert grimaced, as though recalling something unpleasant- which he was. "It is never pleasant if you lose too many resources. It is completely un-awesome that such a young nation as yourself had to deal vith such horrors."
"Ah."
Prussia didn't respond, instead mulling over the circumstances that had brought him to this specific situation. He knew he was acting uncharacteristically quiet (although he had absolutely no idea why), and he wanted to know the true reasons behind his own mysterious behavior.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of Canada retching beside him.
Shocked, he whipped around to face the nation, to find him curled into a ball next to a puddle of something he didn't want to think about.
"Canada! Vhat just happened?!" Prussia knelt beside his- and now he finally admitted it to himself- friend in concern.
It was Canada's turn to grimace now, and he did so as his face turned white and he gritted his teeth to speak. "Quebec tried to rebel again... More violently than usual..." He forced a partial smile up at Gilbert even as a long, bloody line tore its way across his arm. "I'll be fine..."
Prussia frowned and picked Matthew up bridal-style. "No, you von't. Ve need to get help." He carried his... friend... (he tasted the word in his mind, fitted it to the definition of Canada, memorized the results for later use) down the hallways, trying to remember the way he'd come from.
Canada didn't protest, instead shivering every few minutes. It became apparent that these new rebellions were not solely limited to Quebec as fresh wounds began to rip through Matthew's skin, and soon they were dripping a literal trail of blood onto the carpet behind them.
"Stay awake." Prussia hissed. "Do not fall asleep."
"I-I'm not..." Canada whimpered.
"Don't talk, either." Prussia added abruptly.
Every step more and more determined, more and more challenging, Prussia trudged his way in the general direction of the stairs. He would not give in. He was too awesome to give in.
"Maybe if ve called your boss he could get us help." Prussia grunted. "Try harder at stopping the revolts. Be more awesome."
Matthew shivered. "Can't."
"...Vhy not?"
"My boss... doesn't notice... me... He doesn't... know... I exist."
"...Whaaat? Really?"
Matthew gave a quick, jerking nod before letting out another scream of pain. Prussia flinched and quickened his pace, trying to find some moderation between fast and bumpy versus slow and steady.
As he walked, he wondered if they could make it in time. Canada was in bad condition and constantly getting worse, and the conference hall was so far away...
Of course they could. He was awesome, right? He could get out of this, and he could do so while keeping his friend alive.
They turned a corner, and his eyes met with a most-welcomed blessing: stairs.
The first floor, while complex, was far easier to navigate than the basement; within minutes, he burst into the conference hall screaming for help.
The shocked faces of over a hundred nations greeted his return.
Canada was not present at the next world conference.
Prussia spent the entire meeting searching through the crowds for the nation. He went so far as to kick America out of the seat at the head table and yell the question to all of the present nations.
"Why do you want to know?" America had replied, annoyed. "And why's it important enough for you to interrupt the entire meeting for it?"
"Vhere is he?!" Prussia yelled, leaning down and glaring at the country.
America leaned back, flinching slightly. "Dude, Canada's in the middle of a war! He's not well enough to go out!"
Before he could demand any more answers, Germany had dragged him off of the table and was telling him off for disrupting the meeting("Ja, I know it vould have ended in chaos sooner or later, but that is no reason to be the cause of it!").
Canada was not present at America's birthday party.
Prussia had snuck over without an invitation and without his brother's permission, determined to see the ailing nation. He'd worn a cleverly awesome disguise, and for once he bided his time carefully- waiting for just the right moment to approach Matthew's brother.
America headed for the bathroom about an hour and thirty minutes after Gilbert's arrival (A good thing, that- he was getting bored waiting and probably would have just jumped the guy in front of the others sooner or later if he hadn't). He followed the nation to the door and waited until he heard the sink turn on before bursting in.
America looked up, surprised, hands still covered in suds. "Hungary? What are you doin' in the guy's restroom?"
Prussia wasted no time, shoving Alfred against the counter in fury. "Hungary vas sick today." He hissed, glaring at the New World nation. "Vhere is Canada?"
America looked confused (tipsy again, Prussia thought) for a few seconds, before catching sight of his bright red eyes and registering the strange masculine accent his assailant bore. "P-Prussia?!"
"Vhere is Canada?" Prussia repeated lowly, narrowing his eyes. He gritted his teeth, just about ready to destroy the guy.
"I-If you don't let me go, I'll-"
"I don't care." Gilbert said. "You know I'll be able to break a few bones before you can do anything to me, and that vill be enough."
America's eyes went wide with fear. "H-he's still at war! He's not supposed to have any visitors!"
"Vhere is he?"
"Safe! In a hospital- I can't remember the address!"
Prussia frowned. The answer wasn't completely awesome, but at least Matthew was being cared for... "Vell then. It was awesome, friend." He smirked evilly and hit the nation hard on the head, effectively knocking him out. He dropped the unconscious birthday boy and left without another word.
A few days later, France would call them to describe how America had gotten so drunk on his birthday that he'd passed out in the bathroom, hit his head on the countertop, and had some kind of a dream that made everyone else wonder if he was on drugs. Gilbert just laughed.
A year finally came and went, and Prussia found himself and his brother once more obligated to attend America's Christmas party. He wouldn't have gone but for the unaffordable threat of the New Worlder's rage, by now fairly sure Canada would be absent once more.
America greeted them at a door this time- Germany with a zealous hug, Prussia with a wary look, a forced smile, and a stiff handshake. Prussia knew America knew- or at least suspected- the event at his party hadn't just been a drunken dream. He knew America had asked Hungary about it, and she had responded by telling him she had been there for the first half and had left after a while (and had then proceeded to tell Gilbert off for mugging America in a public bathroom on his birthday, but she didn't mention that to Alfred and her tone wasn't nearly as angry as her choice of words) but she had most definitely not gone into the men's bathroom- she insisted without a doubt she had accepted her feminine side long ago. Prussia also knew that Germany didn't have a clue, because he would have already gotten yelled at for it if West had figured it out.
But all the same, he offered Alfred a smirk in return before marching into the room like the awesome person he was.
Almost immediately, someone came up behind him and gave him a surprise hug. "Onhonhonhon~"
Prussia threw the man over his shoulder and onto the floor in front of him. He leaned over the nation with a smirk. "You're not awesome enough to sneak up on me, France- I saw you coming a mile away because I am so awesome."
"Of course you did, mon ami~" France smirked in return, pulling himself off of the floor. "Whatever you say... so long as you go out with me for dinner, onhonhonhon~"
"Hah! Not on your life." Prussia grinned at his friend. "I know vhat you do to dates; I am too awesome to become a victim."
"Well, if that is the case, then why not give it a try?~"
"Vhy not try your charms on a turtle? They may have a greater effect."
"Well, do you have a turtle on you?"
"Hah! Vhy would I have a turtle vith me on Christmas?!"
"Perhaps as an, ah, little present for Spain...? Onhonhonhon~"
"Hahaha... France, you are truly creepy."
"Oh! That hurts my feelings...~"
"It's because you're not awesome enough to deal with my awesome!"
"Heey, mis amigos! You're early this year!" France and Prussia looked up to find Spain waving at them, already holding a beer in his free hand. They waved back (well, France did this creepy finger-fluttering thing, but Prussia was fairly sure it counted as a wave) as he approached.
"Either of you seen Scotland yet?" Spain asked, smiling.
"No, but I haven't seen dear Iggy yet, either... I suppose they have not arrived yet~" France replied. He hesitated and added as an afterthought, "Or maybe he's already drunk, onhonhonhon~"
"It... ah... wouldn't surprise me, with that one..." Spain said.
"The awesome me does not understand. Vhich one, Scotland or England?"
Spain shrugged. "Either. The only difference is that Scotland can hold his alcohol better."
"Hahaha! I can agree with that!" France said happily. "Now, friends, let us go get beer."
"Beer is awesome!" Prussia agreed wholeheartedly.
Spain frowned, glancing at the contents of the mug in his hand. He shrugged again and downed it in record time before raising the glass container above his head. "Seconds are always appreciated!"
The trio dashed across the room, almost hitting several nations as they made their way to the beer table. Prussia himself narrowly avoided a collision with Liechtenstein, which would have ended unspeakably horribly on his part- he was sure Switzerland had a gun hidden under his clothes. At the very least, the odd bulge in the Swiss' side looked very suspicious, and he was pretty sure nations didn't really get tumors that big.
Four glasses and one red-headed Scotsman later, the three-now-four were laughing in the corner as they watched a certain Arthur Kirkland yelling at Hungary about his issues with Russia. Alcohol worked wonders on the Englishman, and Prussia wrote himself a mental note to ask France for the undoubtedly awesome undoubtedly being filmed tape after the party. That man would film or take pictures of anything potentially embarrassing to England. Consistently.
Prussia turned to glance at his friend to make sure the video was going well, and then noticed France wasn't actually laughing so much as chuckling. There was a peculiar gleam in his eye, and, sure enough, he held one of those mobile phones discreetly in his hand.
Prussia put off the abnormal look to the beer and went back to laughing at England, who had just gotten the brunt of a blow from Hungary's frying pan.
It was just about then that he once again saw violet eyes in the crowd.
Prussia stopped laughing immediately, staring at the other nation. He looked happy but sad all at once, watching England yelling, and appeared to be leaning rather heavily against a wall. In one hand Gilbert saw a glimmer of silver- crutches, maybe- and in the other an ice pack held against his leg.
As he watched, Matthew heaved himself off of the wall and began to limp away.
Prussia glanced at his friends. Scotland was busy downing another drink, Spain had wandered off to find Romano, and France still had that creepy watching-England glimmer in his eyes. He would not be missed for some time.
Carefully, he slunk off. The crowd of nations closed behind him like a curtain, masking his escape as he awesomely and stealthily headed for the least crowded area of the room: near the entrance, far away from the food and the entertainment. He figured he had maybe thirty minutes to find Canada if he wanted to watch the fireworks- which were always the best part of America's parties. All of the nations would be heading outside to see them soon.
Prussia looked around and saw the back of a red sweatshirt leaving the room. He ran after Canada, knowing at the very least he could catch him on his way back in; besides, it wasn't like he had much to lose, and it was probably just a bathroom break anyways.
To his faint surprise, Canada went right past the bathroom, and vanished around a corner. Despite the fact that Prussia was walking faster than the injured man, by the time he'd turned the same corner the nation was well out of sight- and three or four more turn offs nearby meant he wouldn't be so easily found.
But, he now realized, something else was becoming plainly visible.
Back in the more public areas of the building, the janitors had taken care to make sure the bloodstains on the floor were gone(Bad form for potential visitors and school children on field trips- Prussia supposed they shouldn't scar the kids); however, in the less public areas where only the most official of officials would go, not so much. The liquid was dried and faded, but he could vaguely see brown marks on the floor like droplets of iodine leading on into the abyss.
So that was where Canada was going.
Prussia stepped up the pace, now confident that he could find his friend even though he was apparently too slow to catch a heavily injured limping Canadian. He didn't know why Canada was going back to that place, but he was more than willing to follow.
He turned the final corner and saw those first-shed spatters of blood on the wall. With a shiver of faint disgust, Gilbert sat down and waited. Canada would be coming back soon, he was sure. He had to be sure, in a way.
Just a few minutes later, a familiar form turned the corner. Canada's violet eyes glanced at Prussia, didn't seem so much surprised as tired. Nobody spoke; the injured nation limped over and slid down the wall next to Prussia with a sigh.
"H-hey..."
Prussia smirked. "Vhat? Do you think I've forgotten you?"
Now Canada's face seemed to light up in shock and. Prussia was surprised to note, happiness. "Y-you do remember me...? After an entire year?"
"Vell, of course. I'm too awesome to forget anything." Prussia looked straight at the New Worlder and his smirk became slightly more like a genuine smile before it fell into a frown. "Vhat happened?"
Canada glanced down. "...More rebellions. Terrorists... I think it's over now. America put me in one of his hospitals so I could be properly cared for, but half of the time they completely forgot about me, so it took me a long time to recover."
The two waited tensely for a few seconds, each half-sure that Matthew was about to start screaming in pain once more. When it didn't happen, Prussia rushed to fill the silence.
"...I looked for you, you know."
"You did?"
"Ja, I did. I went to the vorld meeting and awesomely kicked America out of his chair so I could get on the table and ask them all about it, but nobody told me anything awesome before Germany pulled me off."
Canada blinked, his face disbelieving, the hand holding the ice pack to his leg dropping slowly to the floor before releasing its grip on the object and not bothering to retrieve it. "R-really?"
Prussia nodded awesomely. "And then I snuck into his birthday party. I dressed as Hungary because I knew she vouldn't be there, and then I awesomely mugged him in the bathroom for information."
Canada gave him a surprised look. "So he wasn't just dreaming that?"
Prussia shook his head and smirked. "You should have seen the look he gave me vhen I valked through the door to this party. If he had laser vision, I vould be dead."
Canada laughed, his voice still as quiet as ever. "That's just the kind of thing America would do." He smiled now, and Gilbert felt happiness flood him for some reason- it was something he didn't understand at all, but somehow seeing the shy brother of Alfred smiling just really made his day.
"I vas just vondering, Canada..."
"What?"
Prussia felt his face flush slightly and inwardly cursed as he met the other nation's gaze head-on. Why the heck am I so nervous today? "V-vell, I vas vondering- vhat is it like, being ignored by everyone? Does everyone ignore you?"
Canada looked perturbed for a moment, but then he sighed. "I guess... it makes me feel kinda worthless. Unwanted. Y-you get used to it, but you don't, eh? I've never enjoyed it... and... yes. Everybody ignores me but you. I don't know why..." He cleared his throat. "But even though you're the only one who remembers me, it feels less lonely being with somebody who knows me."
Prussia felt the uncharacteristic blush flare up and turned away in shame. He felt Matthew touch his arm and turned around to face his friend out of some kind of courtesy, hunching his shoulders in a halfhearted attempt to hide the redness.
Then he saw that Canada looked a little pink too, and he realized this was one of many things he would never have to hide from the nation.
Slightly unnerved, Gilbert checked his watch and cleared his throat. "Say... the fireworks vill be starting in just a few minutes. Do you vant to go up and vatch them?"
For a few moments, Matthew looked unsure, and Prussia's confidence in his answer shrunk considerably. But then the nation smiled even wider than before, and Gilbert's heart leapt when he heard the response echo in his ears.
"Yes." Canada replied quietly.
Prussia grinned then- a real grin, not one of his signature smirks. He got to his feet and helped Matthew up, letting the injured man use his shoulder as a prop. They walked mostly at the same pace, following the dried blood trail to the staircase and then up. The other nations had already gone out, but not before leaving a smell of alcohol and the world behind them; it was an oddly comforting smell, a reminder of the vague unity they all suffered through, and Prussia welcomed it as he held the door for Canada.
Prussia sat down in a relatively snow-free spot several yards away from the other nations. Canada gingerly took a spot beside him, and the two looked up to the skies.
The first of the fireworks exploded in brilliant bursts of red, white, and blue. They were the fanciest kinds, forming themselves into shapes, into flags: first America, then Great Britain, then France. The list went on and on, each nation present represented in the flashing colors, a true spectacle to behold. Even Russia's eventually made a round, despite his absence from the celebrations. Prussia saw Sealand's, and Canada's, and Cuba's. He even saw one that was a hazy semblance of his own, even though he wasn't a nation any more (And why was it that somehow that wasn't so terrible any more?).
Eventually, about halfway through the presentation, he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders.
Prussia stiffened, ready to throw the perpetrator into the snowy ground. He sharply twisted to his right, throwing the limb off of his side and bearing his teeth in a snarl. His hand automatically went for the knife sheathed in his boot, but he didn't draw it- not yet. As he leaned forward aggressively, his brain processed the image of the nation sitting next to him.
Canada.
Gilbert forced himself to relax as his fellow nation recoiled in surprise. He sighed, rolled his red eyes, and nodded at the country.
Carefully, Canada replaced the arm. Prussia remained still, examining the New Worlder's every move like the eagle that was on his flag, waiting for him to do something else.
But Matthew seemed perfectly content to sit on the cold winter ground, resting his head on Prussia's shoulder.
Gilbert let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Liechtenstein's flag flashed in the sky, and hesitantly he put his own arm around Canada's shoulders. The nation who nobody noticed didn't flinch, only shifted slightly as Prussia leaned into the embrace.
Switzerland. Finland. Argentina.
Like some great parade, the black sky flowed with glowing colors, but beneath those emblazoned lights loomed the forms of two lonely nations holding off the true darkness of the world.
"Don't forget me." Canada whispered.
Prussia rested his head on Matthew's and chuckled warmly into his ear.
"I vill never forget."
All right, something like an author's note! This is the first story I've posted and is also only the second or third I've written that's one-shottish at all- although it might end up being a one-shot series because I have so many other random pairing ideas right now :P And yes, Batlion, this is probably what you think it is, and yes, I realize that is not your author name.
Please excuse me if this isn't very well written- this is the first time I've ever written fluff. I'm generally more of an action-adventure person, but recently I've been going total fangirl and this is the result :D
Also, I own nothing in this story. This can be considered a disclaimer~
Anyhow, for everyone else out there on the world wide web, reviews are always welcome; I want to know how bad this ended up being~ Gracias and adios, AF-DS out~