"Sometimes, to get over falls, we just have to cry."
WARNING: Suicide attempts, depression, anxiety, abandonment, abuse, rape, child neglect, inner demons and a whole bunch of feels.
Italics: Past memories
Bold: The inner demon's voice
Step
"My name is Francis, the country of l'amour, you must be the child of this land"
Breath
"Eugh… I'm sorry Mathieu, but you will be living with L'angleterre now. There's nothing you and I can do."
Step
"From now on you will be under my roof do you hear me? That means none of that stupid frog's language, and I expect you to behave."
Breath
"Wow! You look just like me! You're probably some sort of clone of mine! Hey Iggy, let's go eat I'm hungry!"
Step
"What do you mean you're not America!? Oh well, sorry Lad, you can't possibly expect me to remember, you two are just so similar…"
Bump, Slam
"Hey, Hey, Mattie, are you jealous because Iggy doesn't love you?"
Gasp, shake, dash
"Matthew! Come with me and we can be the greatest country in history!"
Run
"I'm glad you're safe lad, he didn't do anything to you did he?"
Stop, shiver
"This, Matthew, things could've turned out way better than this!"
Shake, step
"Don't you love me?"
Step
"A-Alfred? You came back… Thank god, are you finally going to end this madness?"
Growl
"That's it Alfred, be a good lad, make Iggy proud…"
Dash
"Mattie? Why does the scary man call you Alfred?"
Whimper, dash
"Don't worry! I'll protect you, when I get big and strong we can both be something amazing!"
Stop, crying.
"We're finally free Mattie! I'll help you be who you want to be!"
Hands, face, kneel, and weep
"Sorry mate but uh…Who are you again?"
Stand, wobble, and sniffle
"I…don't know."
My voice is breaking, I don't know what's going on, and should I even try anymore? Oh those lovely questions that I've thought over and over again, I mean, what I'm about to do would be life ending for humans, but for us nations…I really don't know.
The streets light up with cars and buildings, shapes made out of neon light, people walk the bustling streets below, and the emotions they feel might just change when they see what he's about to do
(He's pretty sure some might've been having the best day of their life's, and he was just about to end it miserably, oh the joy)
He slowly looks down below to the bustle that is the city at night, whipping his tears away as he climbs into the edge of the building, he looks down one more time before jumping, shivering in anticipation, or perhaps fear, he really didn't know anymore.
I mean, if the feeling would've been different, if he did not feel alive whenever he did this, he would've just stopped the first time right? Even if that first time he felt guilt, anger and sadness wash over him for what seemed like ever, it was, he supposes, fun.
Though deep down, he knows that that's not the case, and silently wonders if he should stop
(But then remembers that when he was picked off the streets by humans and into the hospital when they saw he was breathing, when he woke up, none of his so called "family" was there, none.)
So he stares upwards at the dashing sky that's littered with the few stars that come from the night, if it were an open field, or maybe a less crowded area he'd be able to see more of them, but for now this is fine. He took a deep breath and let the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into an ironic, if not sarcastic smile that will never reach his dashing but dull indigo eyes.
"One…" he starts counting as he steps his right leg off the edge
"Two…" he can hear some gasps from certain humans that have seemed to have caught up on his actions and are trying to stop him
He hears the door that leads to the building's roof slam open, he hears the pants that seem slightly familiar, and he would never admit he was glad that at least somebody he knew paid enough attention.
"Mattie, Mattie please listen to me!" he starts hesitating as the crescendo golden voice of his brother reaches his ears "We love you, please don't do this, things can get better I promise, I promise just please…Please don't do this, come back to us." He flinches at the amplification of the word "love", unsure of its meaning as he slowly puts his leg into the edge where the rest of his body stood.
"We know we have probably been not the best of people for you! But we can fix this, just like we fixed our fights before, please, please stop doing this!" The golden blonde headed man's cornflower blue eyes started to fret, looking back and forth between his "twin" brother's back and his trembling hands, he'd hope that the rumours inside the meeting room were wrong, he had hoped so, so very much, and to his disappointment, this is the outcome.
"Maybe you should've thought of that before." The strawberry blonde's shoulder's trembled, his whole body just a delicate frame that everyone had pushed around forever, and now, it was time that frame fell into the floor, shattering the glass and braking the whole that is the frame, maybe the picture would still live, but the picture this young man had been having for eternity did not exist.
A family picture, but he's sure it does, he's just not in it.
So just before the slightly more buff and athletic brother of his gets the chance to pull him off the edge, to cry and scream things to him he just doesn't believe in anymore, he jumps.
For a split second he can see the face that is Alfred F. Jones, the representative of America, the golden child, the favourite, the beloved, the everything he never was, leaning into the edge and staring down at the falling, pale and delicate body that is his own.
He ignores his screams that blend in with the humans, he ignores the sirens and everything else, and slowly closes his eyes, letting go.
The night air is beautiful indeed, gentle chilly air caressing your skin that makes you shiver in cold, he should've worn his hoody today, it was kind of chilly, or maybe it was because he was wearing the undershirt he had managed to put on before dashing towards the doors that lead out of the meeting, and his trusty military pants of course, he would've preferred it if his jacket wouldn't of been, you know, burned off when a certain nation was demonstrating something, and not noticed the Canadian dozing off before setting the chair on fire, Matthew barely saving himself by getting out of his jacket and running off.
He feels the control over his body slowly slip away, he silently ponders on how exactly is he going to explain this suicide attempt turning into a miracle of saving, if he's lucky, it'll be his doctor, a charming middle aged man who has done favour after favour for Matthew with his, hobby, let's call it that.
And slowly, he feels that impulse of gravity, the one you get just before you're about to plummet, to meet the face of the floor and crumble into the laws of gravity, so he squeezes his eyes and…
It all goes black.
Alfred stared at the edge as he squeezed his eyes shut as he saw the body of his twin hit the ground, even if he was high up and away from the other, he swears he heard a crack of bones, a silent scream followed by the humans screams, sirens blared off in the distance, phones tapped dangerously trying to call 911 to "save this man!", there wasn't much to save, he'd be fine, nations really can't die of this.
That is if the rumours in the meeting were true.
Slowly he opened his eyes, worried cornflower reflecting the lights of the city and the heist of panic that was going on down there.
He trembles and feels the door of the roof creek, so somebody else was there, he swallows the need for his tears to pour into lakes and maybe oceans because of the sight he just saw, and turns around.
"Alfred what in the bloody hell just happened? You ran out so suddenly…" a British voice sounds and he clenches his hands into fists, the older man couldn't of possibly ignored all the rumours spreading because of one slip from a certain bear of the Canadian, could he? "Well?" toxic green eyes narrow in accusation, his large eyebrows forming a v on top of them.
"Did you not hear?!" he snaps at the other, his body shaking as the sight of his brother plummeting repeats over and over again in his head like a broken record "Or are you so into the stick up your ass that you couldn't bear to pay attention to Mattie for once!?"
The sandy blonde man steps ahead, shaking his head angrily and putting his hands on his hips "What the bloody hell are you talking about you git!?" he huffed and walked forward "And who the hell is this, "Mattie" you're talking about?" he air quoted the others choice of words and growled, what he did not know was that those who and air quotes was making the angry fire of Alfred intensify.
The American growled and pushed the other, enough so that he fell over and looked at the other in shock.
"What do you mean WHO is Mattie!?" the other growled and shook "Matthew Williams! Matthew, Canada! Mattie! Matt, one of your most loyal colonies you old stupid fart!" he screams at the other, fists trembling "And if you haven't realized, Kumajirou, his bear, let it slip that he's been committing suicide, over and over and over again! So when I saw him dash out of the meeting, the bear not bothering to keep up, just telling him he'd be at home with some painkillers and movies ready, I ran after him, and what do I find!? My brother plummeting to his awaited and hoped death but not being able to really be made death!" he walked past the other "And if you excuse me, I have to be his big brother, his hero, for just this time at least." He ran ahead, leaving a stumbling and dazed Brit behind.
"W-What…" the green eyed man slowly stood up "Matthew would never commit such a thing." He huffs, his memory finally catching up to him enough so he'd be able to remember the other and how he was "But…just in case…" he dashed towards the edge and looked down, gasping in fear when he saw the sight of his ex-colony's body splattered into the ground, and from what he could see, blood coming down his face, staining the pure porcelain skin of his, so Arthur Kirkland, the representative of England, the ex-caretaker, the parent of Matthew Williams, the broken boy, stepped backwards, and slowly turned around and ran, following the Americans loud footsteps, attempting to not get lost in the never ending hallway of a building.
Couldn't they make meeting buildings slightly more easier to navigate?
Francis Bonnefoy, the charming womanizer man that is the representative of France, the country of love, stepped out of the meeting building, humming a small tune, when he caught sight of the screams and overly crowded circle of humans who's full attention was drawn to whatever was in there, mother's covered their children's eyes, boys and girls alike dialled 911, looking back and forth between whatever was in there and the streets.
So, the Frenchman, a man of gossip and new things, started walking towards the circle, receiving looks from humans, some concerned, some worried, some angry that he dared go close to something that was apparently important humming ooh la la under his breath. He soon entered the circle and closed his eyes, ready to face, or expecting some sort of act of the street gone wrong.
But what he saw was none of those things
And it's a shame, really, anything could've been better than this.
Because in front of the flamboyant male, laid the body of the child turned man he swore he'd protect when he first met, unmoving, broken, scarred and beaten.
Anything would've been better than having to see his petite infant bleeding into the floor, unmoving while a woman checked his pulse and a man held his hand while encouraging him to wake up, glancing between him and the lady, whispering what Francis could make out a "Is he still alive? How is he alive?" and the woman would quickly hush him murmuring "He's alive, I don't know how but he's alive." He felt the circle grow with people; he was slowly being pushed out of it by the crowd as his body stood paralyzed amongst them.
"Papa I love you!" round, porcelain pale skin that was stained with a healthy red blush nuzzled into his pants, soft wavy locks of strawberry blonde hair bouncing as his beautiful indigo eyes lightened up when Francis glanced down.
Oh where did his precious innocent child go to?
He thinks, as he feels the crowd push him away even more, but he can't do anything, paralyzed as he relieves old moments and new ones quickly,
"You're giving me away?" the other fiddled with the dress he was wearing, tears staining his chubby pale cheeks
"There's nothing I can do about it." He had shrugged and turned away from what was before believed by his people (and eventually him) a useless, worthless piece of land, the sweet innocent boy he once doted upon and loved with all his heart, now somebody he began to hate with all his might, slowly start braking down behind him.
"B-But!" the other stammered, trying to find an excuse "Papa you said we'd be together forever! That you wouldn't leave me alone!" his hand came in contact with the elder's pants "Don't you love me anymore!? You said the British were bad!"
He had snapped and threw the other off and into the ground with a swat "Not now Matthew." He growled out and watched the face of his beloved child crumble "Maybe I don't love you anymore." A flinch "But you'll never know, so get dressed and move it, Arthur was never a patient man."
Oh, right, that memory…
A shame that he'd given such a fantastic child away,
He groaned in pain when he realized that he was probably one of the many reasons why his beloved Mathieu decided to commit suicide.
(He's, deep down, grateful they're not human, and can survive things like this.)
He starts weeping and pushes into the circle "Out of the way!" his voice is more accented than usual, and he sees people staring at him, some in confusion, some in disappointment he was not the ambulance, some in fear, and some in honest concern.
He ran towards his child, relieving how the other slowly grew up and away from him, oh why it had to come to this!? His mind screams for mercy, his body runs and quickly kneels down in front of the other, the two humans that were previously there letting go of him and letting him check the other over
"Mathieu!?" he patted his cheeks and brought the others face closer "Mathieu mon petite infanté, please wake up, papa's here, he won't leave you alone anymore, I swear, I promise, this time is for real, please…please… just open your eyes!" his voice cracks and the pitiful looks he's getting don't make him feel any better.
Slowly the ambulance arrives, and time seems to go slow as humans got out of the vehicle with a cartridge he'd seem them carry people who were badly injured, and strap Mathieu in, securing his head as they rushed into the ambulance and checked him over, a nurse telling him he was not able to go inside and see him, for obvious reasons, he'd have to drive to the hospital to see for himself.
He quickly asked the nurse for the name of the hospital and nodded, quickly turning on his heel and going to see who'd give him a ride, perhaps a certain Prussian man would be interested, he'd seen him talk a lot with Matthew,
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the angry, near tears America and the trembling behind him England
"Y-You too huh?..." he stammered out, the American slowly nodding, the British standing silent and unmoving, unsure of what to do, as time seemed to stand still as one single question rang through their heads
Is it my fault?
Everything is black, black, black, black and more black as he feels his weightless body float in the endless sea of black, he knows he'll soon come to his senses and wake up, I mean, he's re-lived this so much he knows how it all feels.
He felt somebody sigh, probably his weird lookalike hallucination
"So, you're here again huh?" The other asked as he felt himself groan "Hey, don't use that attitude; you're the one who craved in."
"If it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't of." He snapped at the other and hissed "You're an ass; by the way, those memories really do hurt me eh?" he felt himself stand, but stand on what? He's not so sure anymore
"Oh please." Slowly the figure of his slight counterpart he has the pleasure to share during his "dead" moments appears "It's not like they're any new to you, don't lie, you've lived them, I haven't." he tossed something at the other "Yet at least."
The other caught the thrown object, pain killers "I already told you I'm not going to give you my body." He paused "What's with these though?" he questioned, gesturing to said painkillers.
"For the pain, a nurse is shoving some into you right about now." He checked somewhere into the black of nothingness as if he could see what was going now "You're pretty lucky, you get your usual doctor now."
"Makes me feel so much better." He responded sarcastically "Now can I please go back?" he sighed "For once, the only time I've been noticed for more than five minutes this year, by Alfred of all people, is now!?" he yawned a little, feeling some of the darkness starting to consume him "Stop it." He swatted at the darkness, the other man seeming to do a fake pout
"Oh boo fucking hoo. Now is when you care? Do you remember when He noticed your pathetic ass on the 4th of July? The irony that he even managed to say "Mattie it's my birthday!" to you and then run off with the Frenchmen and Englishmen is hilarious." He floated closer "At least he said your name right this time, dolly." He purred into the others ear and made Matthew shiver
"I just…It's kind of important to me, I guess." He moved away from the sweet gravel voice of the other "I just, wish I could explain this," he gestured to himself "Mess." He gestured at the black "a little better, then maybe he wouldn't have panicked that badly…" he felt the other glare holes into his back
"Fine. But remember," he trailed a hand down the others back "Soon, I'll be back, and it'll be twice as hard on you next time"
He felt the darkness slowly edge away and his senses come to be
"Bring it."
And the impact of reality hit.
Doctor Richt was a kind man, his three kids all either teenagers or graduating university, the wrinkles on his face getting more evident as time passed by, strands of lovely white hair littering his once long and lovely blonde hair, he'd think he'd seen it all when he met Matthew Williams, the kind, scarred soul of the nation of Canada.
But he was wrong, oh so very wrong.
You see, Richt was not so surprised when he saw who was being carried in the cartridge, when he saw Matthew's bleeding face he had sighed irritably at first, but supposed that the inner demons in him had won, again, so, he followed the nurses and doctors into the operation room and did his job.
Ah, it's so nice fixing somebody on the outside but knowing that on the inside they're broken pieces.
When he got out of surgery, and saw that they were slowly moving Matthew to a hospital room, he was about to go talk to the receptionist to tell his wife he would be late again because of a patient (Matthew seemed to relax and last longer periods of time without committing these attempts when someone stood there with him and told him he'd be all okay) when he came across three, mother hen like blondes that were worried sick and screaming at the young lady behind the desk.
The woman was frantic and trying to understand them all, clearly surprised at all the accents and speed of speech, he slowly stepped forward and did what was right.
"Well, hello there, I'm doctor Richt." He extended his hand and frowned a little when they didn't take it "Pleasure to meet you? Uh, and why are you here?" he cleared his throat and coughed
"Have you seen Matthew Williams?" the shortest of the three asked, a sandy blonde man. He raised his eyebrow in confusion; he'd never seen somebody ask him for this special patient of his "Uh, yes, of course, he just got out of surgery." He mumbled a little "You might want to wait though. He's pretty bad right now…Who are you three?"
He got an almost immediate response that did not favour him at all "We're his family."
He had to contain the urge to roll his eyes in agony, family!? Family!? What type of family those this!? He's never heard of this family (aside from the mouth of Mr. Williams before) and nows the time they show up!? He growled a little and clenched his fists "Right, please go into the waiting room, I'll tell you when you can see him."
And with that, he was off, going to visit and hopefully make the Canadian feel better,
Because those three, flabbergasted blondes were not his family,
They never were,
And if they're not going to be the caring family this man deserved,
Than he was going to be that family he deserved.
He slowly pushed the doors to the room to find the other awake, he smiled a little, wrinkles edging
"Good Evening, Matthew, how are you feeling?" he said with a kind voice, and beamed in success when the other said
"Better than I was a couple of hours ago."
Woohoo! First chapter (? I promise I'll make a better, long written chapter for the next~! Might even re-write this one, or I'll upload some more stories I've had in mind!
I hope you liked this one, it's short, I know, but please review!~"