Saudade

(n): a Portugese or Galician word for a feeling of nostalgic longing for something or someone that one was fond of and which has been lost. It often carries a fatalist tone and a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might never really return. It was once described as "the love that remains" or "the love that stays" after someone is gone.

PART ONE

Jett awoke to the shrill ring of the telephone, blinking in sleepy disorientation at the ceiling for a few moments before the sound registered.

He rolled with a yawn, reaching for the phone, and even as he did he felt a cold weight of dread settle in his stomach; the fluorescent display of his clock informed him in clinical green numbers that it was 3:07 in the morning.

By that glow he could also see the number of the person calling. His boss.

Nothing good came of calls from his boss at 3:07 in the morning.

"Hello?" he asked, voice hoarse from sleep. "Julia? Is that you? What's wrong?"

"It's me," she replied, sounding stressed and tired. "And I'd be hard pressed to tell you something that isn't wrong, right now."

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, suddenly much more awake. "Julia, please don' beat around the bush; jus' tell me what's wrong."

"Australia is going to war, Jett."

Jett froze, blood turning to ice in his veins. "…what? But- how- with who-"

"I can't tell you the details right now; it's not safe. Just get up, get dressed, and get down here as soon as you can."

"I can be there in 20 minutes," Jett told her, swiftly calculating how long it would take him to throw on some clothes and get into Canberra. He could make it in 20 minutes…if he broke a couple of traffic laws.

His train of thought was cut off by Julia. "Jett, there's something you need to know," she told him, and he was surprised to hear how hesitant she sounded. "It's…about Mathias."

The thought of his lover had not crossed his mind yet, but in that moment the pit of dread in his stomach doubled in intensity. "…what about him?" he asked, in a voice that sounded unnaturally high even to his ears. "Is Denmark a part of this too? Well, I guess that's sort of a relief to hear, someone-"

"They are," Julia cut him off again. "But…not as our allies."

Jett's heart stopped. His eyes widened in shock, the phone nearly slipping from his fingers. "…what?" he whispered, feeling like a broken record. He had to have heard her wrong. There was no way that she had said what he'd thought she'd said that Denmark and Australia—that he and Mathias—

Not as our allies.

"I'm sorry, Jett," she told him, and he knew she was, but apologies hardly mattered in that moment. He lifted his free hand to press against his eyes, trying to force down the rising ache. Silence reigned between them for several long moments.

"…it's fine," he finally said. He was lying through his teeth and they both knew it, but what else could he say? "Australia will always come first to me, Julia, ya don' have to worry about me bein' able to do what I have to do."

She didn't even bother to defend herself against the implied accusation.

"I'll see ya in twenty minutes," he told her, voice flat, and hung up before she could reply.

He sat there, in the darkness, and wondered how on earth it had come to this. They—he and Mathias—they'd never really talked about what they would do, if they ended up in this situation.

On opposite sides of a battlefield.

Beep.

His head snapped up in surprise at the sound, his cell phone informing him of an incoming text message. He reached for it, thinking perhaps it was Julia with some important piece of information she had forgotten to tell him in the first place, only to feel his throat close up at the name on the screen.

Mathias

What could he possibly have to say? They were enemies, now, why was he saying anything at all?

It was a long moment before Jett could bring himself to press View Now.

To: Jett
From: Mathias
Subject: [Blank]

Do what you have to do, and I'll do the same

…for what it's worth, I'm sorry

Received: 3:17 AM

Jett could only stare at the message. 17 words. An order, and an apology. And Jett knew, knew beyond anything else, exactly what that apology was for—not for what Mathias, what Denmark, was doing, but for the heartbreak.

The heartbreak Jett was refusing to let himself feel, because he couldn't care about himself, now. He was Australia, first and foremost, and Mathias was Denmark, first and foremost. Their nations would always, always come first.

He had always known that. They had always known that. He simply hadn't anticipated how much it could hurt.

But his pain didn't matter, anymore. Apologies didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except war.

Are you sure you wish to erase this message?

"I don't need your apologies," Jett whispered, and stood to go find his uniform.

Message erased.

Explanation needed? Methinks so. This entire story - all eleven parts - has already been written and posted on my tumblr. There I follow two glorious roleplayers - kingofscandinavia and wegotkangarooshere - whose characters are together. A while back the Australia roleplayer posted their own drabble along this vein; what if they ended up on opposite sides of WWIII? It got me thinking and I asked them for permission to write my own version. Which I did. This story is the result. I don't think too much of the back story of the relationship is needed; most of what you need to know is revealed as it goes along.

As I said it's all already written, so it should all be up within a few weeks.

...you would not believe how hard it was to find a good title when on tumblr it was just know as THAT FIC THAT LIKES TO STAB PEOPLE RIGHT IN THE HEART.

(Original title courtesy of the Aussie roleplayer themselves, so be forewarned.)