"Gil!" Matthew screams like he had never screamed in the entirety of his existence. His violet eyes go wide as his arm is yanked and he's sustained in the air for a brief moment before falling to the ground. He twists and jerks his arm violently, trying to escape the tight hold. "Gil! GILBERT!" he screams, pulling in vain away from Alfred.
"Mattie, there's nothing you can do! As a nation, you can't help! It's too late!" Alfred says, grabbing his brother's other wrist and stopping his struggles. He looks him directly in the eye before continuing. "Listen to me! It's not like he's dying! He'll still exist, he'll be back!" he pulls Matthew into a tight embrace, putting his arms around him.
That's just it. He'll still exist, but the pain of being forgotten by humanity? The pain of existence after that, living, but with no given purpose? Just being there? And the suffering of the process… Matthew can't even imagine it. He hates his brother for saying that it 'wouldn't be that bad' and 'calm down'. How can he be expected to calm when the most important person in the entire world is being quite literally ripped from him?
Matthew pushes his brother away slightly, his entire body tense. His eyes stay down, and for a millisecond it seems as though he decided to accept the event. But he's far from accepting. He pulls back his clenched fist and connects it with Alfred's cheekbone with far more force than expected. Alfred is sent staggering, clutching his bleeding cheek. He calls after his brother, but he isn't heard.
Matthew runs faster and with more purpose than he has ever run before. His breath becomes labored, but as long as he can see the pure white head of hair, he ignores it; doesn't even feel the physical ache forming in his chest. All he cares about is stopping them. Stopping Ludwig from taking his beloved. Stopping Ludwig from leading him to the extreme period of absolute torture to follow. He doesn't even want to think about it.
As he gets closer he can see the look of defeat on Gilbert's face. It's utterly disheartening, and Matthew chokes on a sob threatening to pass his lips and spill from his eyes. But one thing still gives him hope. Even though he's being dragged easily by Ludwig, even though he's surrounded by German soldiers, he's still fighting. It's a struggle and isn't doing much, but it shows that he's determined and still himself.
"GIL!" Matthew cries. The brothers before him are nearing the many vans parked on the road at the end of his driveway. Yes, his driveway. They had broken into his home to drag Gilbert away, without even the decency and politeness to simply knock on the door. Not that it would have made the situation any better.
Gilbert's head turns and his ruby eyes meet Matthew's. "Mattie… MATTIE!" he yells, wrestling even harder with Ludwig's iron grip. Panic grabs hold of him as he realizes just how quickly everything will change. He realizes exactly what will be happening once he and his brother arrive at their destination, and it's something only meant to be done with 'Birdie', certainly not his brother. He notices a few more cars come to a halt, and a certain blond explode from one of them. His best friend, just in time to watch his worst failure.
Matthew's eyes widen as he watches what happens next. He even stops running. Gilbert is first shoved against the side of a van, curses flooding from his beautiful lips. His eyes shut in pain as his wrists are bound, and Ludwig is continuously shouting in German. Next, Gilbert is shoved into the open double doors of the same van by about 8 pairs of arms. His forehead hits the roof, and he's sent sprawling into the back of the van. As he falls he lets out a blood-curdling scream.
Amidst the slamming of doors and starting of engines, Gilbert somehow manages to get to his knees, for through a small barred window Matthew sees pale hair stained with wet blood and one red eye.
"MATTIE! I'LL BE BACK! DON'T WORRY! MAKE ME SOME PANCAKES FOR WHEN I GET BACK, OKAY?"
Surprisingly, his shout is heard over the roar of numerous engines and breaks Matthew out of his stupor. He inhales deeply and suddenly and is sprinting again. He's sprinting after the van, after his lover, after his reason for living. He pushes himself to go even faster, striving to keep up with van and the albino contained within.
"GIL!" he shouts again, reaching out towards the van.
"I LOVE YOU, BIRDIE!"
The last thing Matthew hears is that sentence but his reply is lost as the van speeds away. Matthew starts off again but stops. He stands panting, fists clenched and violet eyes wide. Then his brain catches up on everything that just happened. It remembers the sound of his door being burst open, the German shouts, the looks of confusion, anger, terror, panic, and determination all on the same perfect face; he remembers the sudden unnoticed chill, the look of nonexistent emotion on Ludwig's face, the ugly green uniforms and paint on the German vehicles that took the Prussian away. He remembers it all, and in the absolute worst definition of the word.
He screams. It's as simple as that; he loses it. His chin tilts up to the dusky sky and his eyes shut, and his lungs empty themselves. They pour out everything to the undying darkness, and he forgets the world in these solitary moments while he just… screams. Every emotion he has ever felt is poured into this. The annoyance with Alfred when they were younger as well as two mere minutes ago, the frustration when he's never recognized, the fear of Ivan that night many years ago when he attempted to take him over. But also the happiness of family, the love from those few select countries. The love of the one who was just taken from him.
His scream turns into uncontrollable sobbing. His hands move up to clutch his blond hair, gripping the strands just hard enough so that there's pain, but not much. Just enough so he actually feels something, so that he knows he's still real, that he's really alive and awake. And that's the worst realization.
With tears literally streaming down his face, he falls slowly to his knees right there in the middle of the street. He wraps his arms around his middle and just cries. Another being comes from somewhere, falling behind Matthew and pulling him against his chest. Matthew feels himself being rocked slowly back and forth, and rests his head on the man behind him, who then strokes his hair and starts murmuring soothingly in French.
Matthew feels completely numb, is dizzy and light-headed, yet the tears don't stop and his body continues to shake and tremble. Even when the tears stop due to the dehydration taking over, his body continues to shake and his sobs continue. His actual feelings have disappeared, except for the sadness and abandonment. He simply can't feel anything else.
"We have to get out of the middle of the road, mon cher. I'll take you home, okay?" the heavily French-accented voice whispers, rubbing Matthew's bare arms. Matthew shakes his head violently.
"Not home… anywhere but home… not without Gil…" his voice breaks at the name and sobs over come him mid-sentence. Because of this, his request isn't heard, and is taken as mere mumbles of grief. He sort of feels arms tighten around him and he's lifted into the air bridal style. He puts his arms around Francis' neck, and buries his face into his shoulder.
Once set on a bed, he strips to his boxers. He's too numb to really care about anything, much less having his 'Papa' seeing him slightly exposed. He sinks into the bed sheets, the scent of Gilbert still so fresh and present. He takes a deep breath, but chokes on a new round of tears threatening to overflow. He lets out a low moan and draws the Prussian's pillow close to his body, clinging to it tightly. It feels so weird sleeping by himself. It will be even worse come morning, when he wakes up screaming thanks to the many nightmares haunting his subconscious. He keeps reminding him that this won't be forever, that Gilbert will be back- but that almost makes it worse.