Nothing was supposed to be the same in life, nothing at all.

Even the snowflakes that flutter down from the gray sky during the winter, were each a different shape and size. The little ridges shifting in different ways, the immaculate contours of each snowflakes plane, all a bit varying from one another.

Right up until they melted on the tip of somebody's tongue to become one single droplet of water; where, intwined together, they would slid down somebody's throat and be lost forever.

Some things defied that rule, such as two trees who grew from the same trunk, water drops that raced down your window... and identical twins.

Matthew and Alfred were two of those exceptions. Their hair is the exact some golden blonde, though Matthew chose to keep his just a tad bit longer. Their eyes a great cerulean blue, filled with energy and kindness; never quite loosing that excitement only seen within a child. There bodies were strong, but slim from the work they had to do.

Of course they weren't only Alfred and Matthew, they were also Canada and America. Names delivered to them by the time they could walk and talk, names forged into their hearts, and slung across their shoulders to create burdens and light felt moments.

They were never far apart, their lands pressed up against each other with only a line drawn on a map to show they were separate entities. But sometimes, on accident, those lines are erased and that one line that separated them isn't there any longer to tell them apart.

At this moment, so close to the end, Matthews back was pressed flush up against the wall behind him, the embers of a forgotten fire sitting in the fireplace to his right. It no longer gave his body any warmth, and yet it brightened the room just a tad bit. The electricity had long since gone out, as with everywhere around his country. Instead now, he focused on the small surroundings that he could actually see in the black room. His fingers were busy, picking at the blanket on his lap, threads pulling out with each flick of his fingers.

His eyes though, were not on the blanket, instead on a single clock that ticked across the room from him. His hand flinched, pulling out a piece of the fabric every time the clock went through it's lap. Like the minute hand was running a race that it would never win, caught up in a loop that was never ending. Going around and around the same way each time.

Violet eyes strained to see it through cracked glasses, and frayed hair rested against his shoulders. Longer than it should be, but his looks were the least of his worries as of lately.

He was waiting for somebody he knew probably wouldn't come; probably couldn't come at all. Even if he were to go against the winds and the terrible forces across the world, the chances of the other actually making it to him in time were very small.

But isn't that what heros are supposed to be for?

'Tick' It sent a shiver right down his spine, making him flinch slightly. His fingernail caught underneath a piece of fabric and tore a bit.

'Tock' He struggled against the fabric, pulling at it and trying to get his nail loose. Once he was done, he peered down at his chipped nail, blinking. He really was falling apart, piece by piece.

Everybody was, it was the ending that they all knew was going to happen. The ending of the world, and the ending of the countries. The storms and the wars were a warning that things weren't right in the universe. As always though, they were too late. They weren't against themselves this time, no way to sign a peace treaty with fate. Some of them had tried, as they watched their countries crumble into dust, and their people die. Watching themselves break apart at the seams.

Russia was the first to go, much to everybody's surprise. He was the biggest, the largest land mass and the most volatile, but even that wasn't enough to save him nor his people. His country split right down the middle, breaking away from everybody else. They say that he fell into the ocean, and he drowned. China though, said he seen him standing on a mountain with nothing but his scarf held in his hands. He said that General Winter had tried to save Russia, and they had both been swept away.

China and Japan went at the same time, simply sinking into the waters. Flooding the places that they called home, like they had forgotten to close their doors and the rain washed away all of their memories. China was said to be clutching Japan in those last moments, telling him that he was going to be okay; like he had done to the other when Japan was a child. They went down with their countries, like captains of ships.

So many were lost, and nobody could stop it. The world was closing in on them, and they had no where to run. Spain lost himself, dying merely of being heartbroken. Prussia disappeared soon after, along with his brother Germany.

The only people left in Europe and Asia at all were England, Scotland, Greece and the Italy's. Nobody else had made it, and even they were crumbling soon. It was merely like looking into their futures as they did with everybody else.

England though has been the saddest. He may have survived, but surviving is a lot different than living. He had watched France try to crawl across the borders of his country into England, and England had watched him fail by only a few paces. He had watched the light go out in his best friends bright blue eyes, watched his hand slip down and lay there, blood dripping down from it onto the ground that they had played on as children.

Across the 'pond', or Atlantic Ocean, the America's were left untouched until the last moments. They may have gotten lucky, or they may have gotten the bad end of the deal. To watch the ash of other ruined countries land on their soil, and watch their friends burn away.

Canada was next and he knew it.

His soil ridden hands pressed against his ears, shaking a little bit as he tried to block out the ticking of the clock.

There was a bang and he flinched, blinking at his door of the cabin he was sitting in. It wasn't even his cabin, he just knew it was going to be warm in here other than staying in the snow that had blanketed his country all throughout the year, even during the summer this year.

His eyes traveled back to the clock as it let out another noise and Matthew grabbed ahold of the shelf next to him, pulling his weary limbs up so that he was resting lightly on his feet. He started forward.

"I don't... I don't want you." He whispered, not really knowing who he was talking to. Nobody was here, he was alone, and yet he still spoke.

His hand closed around the small clock sitting on the fireplace mantle, and he stared down at it, feeling each tick go throughout him, adding a new beat to the rhythm of his heart.

'Tick' another moment slipping by, another moment for his skin to crack and his eyes to dim.

'Tock' another person dying, because of the unnatural weather that just wouldn't stop.

'Tick' another child crying alone, because they no longer had parents to lean on, or to feed them.

Matthew slammed the clock on the floor, watching as it shattered the glass on the front across the dirty floor. The minute hand came completely away from the rest, landing between his legs. It was finally done with its race.

Matthew pressed the palm of his hand against his eyes, until it was like another universe was blooming behind his eyelids, from the pressure. Different colors and bright lights and shapes.

He slipped down the wall and his hands fell back into his lap, this time without a blanket to pick at and without a clock to keep him awake; he fell into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of ticking clocks, and little memories.

He couldn't quite tell where he was. Everything was really big, the trees and the things above him. He could feel his own heart thumping in his chest though, but it wasn't the one he wanted to feel against his ribcage.

"Shhhh... You're okay little baby. I have you now." A voice mumbled, in a foreign language he couldn't understand how he knew; and yet the words shifted inside his head to find meaning.

Along a creek, a young native woman held Matthew in a bundle of blankets, smiling down at the baby boy she held. She did not know he was special, just knew deep down that she had to take care of him.

Little Matthew squirmed, making the lady frown. She sighed, pulling him up so that he was nestled against her chest. He could hear her heart now, along with his. It still wasn't right. His features twisted into into a silent scream, blue eyes pleading with the woman who held him.

"What is it you want?" The girl whispered, pursing her lips. Suddenly she crouched down, and placed Matthew back down into the cradle she had brought him out of.

He felt it, his innocent and naive mind instantly calming, when he felt the other heartbeat beside him. He felt something shift beside him, and a warm breath against his cheek. He curled up next to the heat, his face becoming extremely peaceful.

"The wise one says not to take the identical ones apart. I suppose she is right." The woman mumbled. She watched the two blonde babies cuddle against each other, content expressions on their faces.

"Canada! Canada are you in there?" Matthew winced and shifted slightly, his consciousness slipping out of the dream halfway, to hear a banging on the door; before he fell back into the images swarming inside his head.

He was older now, he could feel that. He was dressed in crisp clothes that stuck to him, making him itch and scratch.

"I don't like them either." A voice grumbled beside him, and he twisted around, to see another blonde beside him. He was much the same, with only a tuft of hair sticking up to tell the two twins apart.

"They feel weird. Papa says I have to wear them though." Matthew mumbled, pulling at a string around his neck. It felt as if it was suffocating him.

"Arthur says we have to be more proper now... well he told me that." The other reached up, gripping onto Matthews strings around his neck, and tugging them loose, "Better?"

"Much." Matthew said happily, "Thank you Alfie."

"Sure thing Mattie." Alfred smiled at him, then grabbed his hand, tugging him forward.

Matthew stumbled a bit in surprise. He was much used to his brothers sudden ideas, not that it caused him not to fall a few times when the other chose to drag him along without warning.

"We're going to the creek. You know the one, we used to go to before they came?" Alfred whispered, excitedly. His foot splashed into a puddle, the water soaking into the pants at his ankles.

"B-But... We're going to get our clothes dirty." Matthew protested, careful to not step into the same puddle as his brother had.

"So?"

"So, don't you want dessert tonight? Papa Francis is making it..." Matthew whispered.

"He'll still sneak it to us. He always does." Alfred gave him a huge smile, before he leaned over and pressed a kiss to his brothers forehead, "You have to come with me. I don't want to be separated for that long."

Matthew gazed up at Alfred, giving him a warm smile. His hand tightened around Alfred, and his footsteps quickened after the others.

"Canada!"

Matthew let out a long sigh, hearing that same voice again outside his door.

"Can- Matthew! Matthew, baby can you hear me? Matthew somebody said you were in here!"

This time the images shifted into a much clearer visual. It was cleaner, and much more recent.

Matthew sat at the meeting table, his hands resting on his lap, and his bear chewing gently on a string attached to his boot.

"Any more questions?" Germany asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He glanced around, his eyes landing on Italy with a raised eyebrow at the others quietness.

"I think we should just get this over with." Switzerland grumbled, tilting back in his chair.

"Don't do that brother. You could hurt yourself by falling." Liechtenstein whispered, smiling gently up at her brother.

"I'm going to take that as a no." Germany sighed, sitting back down at the table to shuffle his notes back into his suitcase.

Matthew knew the meeting was over, yet he didn't move when everybody else did. He didn't care for the mad dash to the door like everybody else made. Sometimes he just liked to watch them, being the last to leave. He wanted to make sure nobody needed a ride home.

Even if they didn't always remember him.

"Canada?"

Matthew's head snapped up, meeting identical blue ones.

"America? What are you doing here?" Matthew whispered, sitting a bit straighter in his chair. He'd lost control of his thoughts, getting caught up in the moment. He realized that the meeting room was practically empty now; except for the last few stragglers.

"Well you were sitting there with that dazed look on your face. Get some bad maple syrup this morning?" Alfred teased, chuckling at his own joke.

Matthew gave him a warm smile, "My maple syrup is always good."

"At least we have kick-ass hamburgers!"

"Can't argue with that." Matthew stood up, reaching down to grab his bear.

Alfred beat him to it, lifting the struggling bear up into his arms. The tall American rolled his eyes at Kumajiro's struggles, yet he did not tighten his grip. He would do nothing to hurt the little bear; even if he got a few nips because of it.

"I can take him. He gets a bit angry when others touch him." Matthew apologized; in his own way.

"Nonsense. You're coming back with me today." America turned around, walking towards the door.

Matthew stopped in his tracks, his arms still slightly extended. He tilted his head to the side, his blonde hair brushing against his cheek.

"What?"

"You heard me. You didn't think I'd forget your birthday, did you?" America gave him a narrowed eyed look, before he took off out the door with Kuma. It left no room for discussion, whether Matthew would be following close behind him.

Matthew was brought back to the present one last time, as soft fingers brushed against his cheeks.

"Oh god Mattie... Oh god..." He heard a whimper, and Matthew realized he hadn't exactly opened his eyes yet.

Lidded eyes peered up at the person cupping his cheek, making him give off a small smile.

"Hey Alfie..." Matthew mumbled, shifting. He leaned forward, slumping against Alfred's chest ever so slightly.

"Don't... Don't talk... You need your strength for the journey." Alfred gushed out, and Matthew felt something drop down into his hair. Something wet, but warm.

"Alfred are you crying?" Matthew's face twisted into a lazy frown, a short breath blowing through his lips when his chest constricted from a loss of air.

"Mattie... I'm so sorry." Strong hands gripped Matthews arms, and he was tugged up into a warm hug. He almost couldn't breathe before, and now he certainly couldn't from the force of the embrace.

"It's okay Alfred. It doesn't really hurt anymore..." Matthew reasoned, trying to make the other feel better.

The sobs that echoed out of Alfred told him that he wasn't accomplishing that.

Matthew just shifted against him, his head resting on Alfred's shoulder.

It took a while, but Alfred's sobs broke off, only to leave a hitched breathing.

"I didn't think you'd make it to me in time." Matthew mused, glancing down at the minute hand down on the floor.

It taunted him, 'You broke me. I'll break you with time.'

"I did everything I could to get here." Alfred mumbled, his voice scratchy.

"Because that's what hero's do?" Matthew tried to tease him. Trying to take the heavy weight away from the situation.

"No. Because that's what brothers do." Alfred whispered back, then blinked down. He grabbed the minute hand off the floor, peering down at it, "Why'd you break the clock?"

"I..." Matthew paused. He really wasn't sure why he broke it. Was it because of the sound? Was it because he could sleep better without the ticking of it? He knew the real reason was much simpler, if not a bit unrealistic. "Because I didn't want it to steal away all my time.

Alfred's shoulders went taught and he could practically hear Alfred worrying away at his bottom lip; to push away the tears.

"Oh." He breathed out.

Soft fingers brushed through Matthews knotted hair and dirty hair.

"Please don't leave me." It was a plead, and a prayer to the great man Alfred had never met before; but reasoned was above them all.

"Alfred I-I'm damaged... b-broken at best." Matthew couldn't cry anymore. He'd long since dried his eyes of the tears; but if they were there he would be soaking both of their shirts with their presence.

Alfred already knew that. He just didn't want to think about it.

Matthew felt his breathing hitch once again. He really was running a lap against time too. Right up until somebody broke him completely; and his heart quite working because the rest of him wasn't running either.

"I love you Matthew. I love you so much." Sun kissed hands brushed agains his face, memorizing every dip and curve. His every expression was taken into Alfred's heart, "I want to be able to see you again; so you have to hold on for me."

He felt it again, the others tears dripping down into his hair.

Matthew cupped Alfred's cheek, smiling up at him, "Alfred. Don't you cry anymore. You can still see my reflection when I'm gone, in the mirror and in your eyes."

"I want you here where I can feel you though..." Alfred whispered, and gentle lips pressed down on Matthews chapped ones. They were warm and slick with tears.

"I'll come back. I'll hold onto you, just like I always have... I'll hold onto you to see what you throw my way; to see what you do to surprise me; like everybody else. Just like I've always held onto every word that you said."

"Please no..." Alfred's breath hitched, "I love you Canada, Matthew, Mattie."

"I love you too Alfie." Matthew didn't have time to say anything else.

His clock had finally been broken. His minute hand falling short of the next tick.

His heart thump to a stop, his breathing coming to an abrupt stop, and the pain of trying to draw in another breath. In that though, he was sure not to loose his last one. Wanting to use it for something special.

"I'll come back... I'll hold onto you." Matthew breathed out, his body slumping down onto the ground.

Alfred merely slumped with him, holding onto Matthews still warm figure; and feeling the earth shake as Canada literally fell apart, in his arms and out beyond the cabin that they were in.

But the man that Alfred held was not just Canada, he was Matthew Williams. Somebody who, if Alfred got his wish, he would see smile again.

Because sometimes things happen that aren't supposed to. Such as two identical twins that loved each other, who grew up to be countries; but never forgot about each other.

Especially when one was holding onto the other with his soul, and even if the other was left to drive back through the broken lights on his country roads completely alone. A minute hand of a broken clock stuck in his pocket.

They were both holding on, in their own ways.