A/N: Hello, whoever is reading this. :3 The song "Lucy" by Skillet inspired this. I'm pleased with about half of it, but the rest of it, not so much. I guess you tell me how it is? XD I don't own Hetalia, sadly. :( Please R&R!
"Hey, Mattie," I muttered, kneeling in front of the dull, gray headstone. His name dripped naturally off of my tongue. I didn't have the heart to mention that no one else remembered him, but I guess he could tell, as he was used to it. My breathing had become uneven, as I brushed away some crisp leaves from the ground. A bouquet of bright, yellow roses carefully replaced them on the grave in front of me. Yellow always was his favorite color. "I came to talk for awhile, if that's alright… How are you today?" he wouldn't answer, but I asked anyway. I'd do anything to see his smile again. I never forgot his beautiful face; how could I? "I miss you… I wish you were here with me. You don't know how much I hate myself for not realizing how stupid I was." Memories flooded my mind.
"Gilbert, you're ALWAYS out with Francis and Antonio. I'm starting to think you don't care about 'us' anymore." Matthew began strongly, but ended with a shaking voice.
"So, Mattie? The three of us are just awesome friends. What makes you think I don't care anymore?"
"Because. You're barely here anymore; all I ever hear about is 'Me and Francis, this and that. Me and Antonio, this and that,'" he made air quote motions, "You never listen to me. You don't even tell me you love me. They're bad influences," his voice lowered.
"That's bullshit and you know it. I love you. And they don't influence me. What I do is my choice, and I can control those choices by myself. Besides, it sounds like you're just pissed because you don't have many friends."
"Don't start saying 'I love you' just because I brought up the fact that you don't say it. How do I know that you even mean it? Oh? So, your choice is to never be here with me, ever? Even when I need you? Oh, yeah. I'm completely pissed that I don't have many friends," his voice dripped with sarcasm, "Thanks for reminding me, Gilbert."
"I do love you," I was getting annoyed now, "And no, that's not what I meant!"
"That's what you made it sound like!" tears began to form at the corners of his eyes.
"Mattie, you know I didn't mean it like that," my tone softened I embraced him in a hug and lightly pressed my lips against his, only to be shoved away.
"Gilbert, no. I hate you," his voice cracked as he fell apart.
"No, you don't…" I winced from his venom-filled words.
"Don't tell me how I feel. I swear. I hate you!"
I couldn't even reply. He was out of the door before I could say anything else. He'd be okay in the morning, I knew it. He'd take back what he'd said. I sighed, lying down on the floor, staring at the boring, white ceiling.
I was lying down for only five minutes when the phone rang. "Maybe it's him…" I muttered, although I really wasn't expecting it to be. Besides, it'd take him longer to get home than that.
"Hello?"
"Mon ami?" a thick, French accent flooded my ears.
"What is it, Francis?"
"Is Matthieu with you?" he asked quietly.
"No… why?" my stomach slightly dropped.
"Um," there was a long hesitation, "I don't know how to put this… but there was an, how would you say, accident?"
"Wh-what kind of accident?" That was stupid. I knew what kind of accident he was referring to.
"A car accident."
"Are you sure it was him?" I questioned, trying to be optimistic.
"It looked like his vehicle, and it certainly looked like him. I couldn't really tell, though."
"Where?" my heart caught in my throat.
"Past Arbor Place. Gilbert, do you want me to come get you?"
The phone slid out of my hand, crashing noisily onto the linoleum tiles. The fall caused static to flow freely, along with the occasional, "Mon ami? Are you there?" I broke out into a full run after jerking the door open. It was freezing, but I didn't care. Time couldn't be wasted. Suddenly, I began to cry. The last thing he had said to me was "…I hate you." Why was I such an asshole?
I made it to Arbor Place surprisingly quick. The sight of two cars crunched together caused me to flinch. It was definitely Matthew. Basically throwing myself at Matthew's car, I began clawing at the door handle, but it refused to budge. Far-away sirens signaled an approaching rescue, but I sure as hell couldn't wait that long.
"Mattie, I'm gonna get you out of here." I yanked at the door with almost all of the strength I had, falling back in the process as it flung open. Francis' silhouette neared me. Blood gushed onto Matthew's face, staining his chestnut hair and his clothes. A whimper emerged from the driver's seat as pale, almost lifeless eyes bore into mine.
As soon as I shakily unbuckled him, I drug him carefully out of the car to the curb. Francis was attempting to "rescue" the driver of the other car, but he wasn't successful.
"Matthew," I began to sob while stroking his hair, "Matthew… I love you so much. You don't even know. I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry… I'm really sorry. Please be okay. You're too awesome not to be."
"Gil…" his quiet voice trembled and was obviously filled with pain, "It was my fault."
He gagged, blood speckling the front of my shirt. His eyes widened. "Y- your shirt. I- I'm sorry."
"Mattie, it's a fucking shirt. It's no big deal." I sniffled "An ambulance is on the way. You're going to be fine."
"We both know I'm not fine, and I won't be. I- it hurts to tell you that, but it's true. I have a lot to tell you in such a short time."
"You're going to be fine." I growled weakly. "You're going to be fine…" The sirens appeared to be closer now.
"Gilbert Beilschmidt, shut up and listen to me." His words were harsh, yet gentle at the same time. "I'm sorry for getting upset about your friends, and I'm sorry for storming off like tha-that. I'm so sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. I provoked it, sort of… I'm sorry. I love you." I hugged him close, wanting to believe he was lying about his state-of-health.
"I love you too. I don't hate you. I was just beyond pissed," Matthew breathed a quick, forced, shuttered breath, "I love you."
Bright red and blue lights flickered against the pavement. Two paramedics dashed towards us with a stretcher. My heart felt as though it was literally being ripped in half at that very moment.
"Sir, do you know this man?" One of the men quietly asked after Matthew was securely placed into the back of the ambulance.
"Yes," I managed to choke out the words, "he's my… adoptive brother."
He jerked a thumb back at the ambulance, "Will you come with us?"
In a way, I didn't want to, but I had to. I nodded. "Yeah."
Halfway to the hospital, the rise and fall of his chest ceased, a faint smile painted across his fragile face.
A slight breeze began to pick up. "It's been a year today. It's hard to believe, I know. I wish you were here," I hesitated. "I really, really miss you."
A tiny, yellow bird perched on top of the grave marker. I couldn't help but smile. I always thought of Matthew when I saw birds. Especially yellow ones.
"Y'know, over time, everyone tried to diagnose me with 'illnesses' based on my behavior. They even dragged me to a doctor who just put me on some meds. I didn't need them. It was really annoying. They never realized I was just lonely. I know it seems like I'm complaining, and you really don't want to hear it, I bet, but I have to tell somebody, and you're the right person to tell." The bird chirped and fluttered onto my knee. "I would've loved to marry you. You probably don't think I'm serious enough, but I'm serious when it comes to you. Do you think we could ever be together again? I'd be the happiest man ever. I think about you everyday. I'd be crazy not to…"
Oranges, yellows and purples all melted together against the tree lines. "The sky's beautiful. Just like you. I wonder if God let you paint the sunset tonight. You always made everything that you did, beautiful. I love you."
The bird hopped up onto my shoulder, lightly pecking my cheek. I gently scooped him into my hands, only to see that he looked as if he was smiling. It was the same facial expression Mattie would make all the time. I leaned forward, holding the little chick close to my chest, and kissed the grave marker. For now, I was content, thinking of the possibility of being able to hold my sweet Matthew again, even if it was in spirit.
A/N: Cheesy ending is cheesy. I'm getting into the hang of writing fanfictions. They're not good right now [mine], but hopefully they will one day. :D Thanks for reading. I'm sorry if I bored you to death. Please review. 3