Title – To Save
Started – 12-28-10 (5AM)
Finished – 1-12-10 (10PM)
Characters – Canada, France
Genre – Hurt/Comfort/Romance
Rating – T for, yeah, whatever. There's France in it.
Upfront Summary [the summary that shows up with all the other information before you click on to read the story] = A typical Canada-is-being-ignored day. But this day, today, he hates it a little more. DRABBLE
A/N – A requestfic for Craving . for . Icecream for reviewing my 6th chapter of "Chillax, Iggy!"! :D Since this is my first Franada fic, I'm going to play it safe with only a thoughtful drabble to settle into the characters.
Just in case, here's a small key:
~(SceneChange/EndScene)~
"Dialogue"
Thoughts/Emphasis/Whispering/Non-English/Songlyrics
EMPHASIS/LOUD
Narration
'So-called'
Disclaimer = I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia/APH. Hidekaz Himaruya does. If I did, and the show ever hit the medium-sized screen (TV), along with the eyecatch, I'd feature France and Prussia having a conversation in which France is listing a bunch of countries/regions/etcetera in a way that everyone who's seen the series before knows he's listing off things-with-a-pulse he's screwed. XD
Whelp, just try to enjoy it! ^^;
~~~(To Save_START)~~~
"Git! Just sit down and behave yourself like you used to!"
"Ah, but I am the hero! I thought you of all people should know that, England!"
"What I know is that a world power should never be someone as ill-witted as YOU!"
"Mes amors! When in doubt, pinky out, and let love show you the way, hm?"
"What does that even mean, aru?"
"Ah.~ How sad for you to not even understand a basic line of poetry. And I had mistaken you for the origin of haikus then?"
"Indeed, you HAVE been mistaken for that is the work of Japan, aru. Although that is understandable being that he is my younger brother, right, aru?"
"…I have invented haikus."
Canada was being ignored. Again. Well, it wasn't like he was really trying to garner attention; it'd just be nice if he'd be asked his opinion once in a century.
But nothing. No one was going to even glance at the lad.
That was the routine.
But today, for some reason today, he hated it even more. Today, he was actually trying. He wanted to remark something about his forests and, if he could, invite everyone out for Timmies because he was just that nice.
But nothing. There wasn't even a universal silence of two seconds to let him speak.
"So, it's unanimous then?"
"Wait, what about Canada?"
His name. Someone said it, didn't they?"
"Who cares?"
That person did.
"He's not important."
That other person seemed to think so.
He didn't know who it was, but he was his savior.
Canada shoved Kumawhatwhat off of his face to better acquaint himself with this person, but he never spoke again. It was obvious he didn't care that much. The silence meant that he snatched the words that spilled from his mouth and threw them away.
Garbage.
Canada wouldn't have cared if he wasn't trying so hard.
He wrapped seductive arms around Liechtenstein. He bad-mouthed England's cooking in English and French and some colorful mix of the two. He even whispered that he was going to marry Russia in Belarus's direction. She couldn't stab what she couldn't see.
He really was invisible.
So he left the meeting early. He left without a word and went to the market. There, he bought a large block of ice, some fishing wire, and a bottle of Advil PM, and when he walked back home, shoulders bumped against other Canadians, but when they turned, they saw no one to apologize to.
He opened the door to an empty house. Simple and plain and unimpressive. He ushered his pet to bed; the mattress lay beside his own. As he tucked the bear in, it asked the daily question:
"Who are you?"
"…"
And like a broken record, it repeated, without seeming to have taken notice of the silence, it asked again:
"Who are you?"
Silence once more before-
"Who are y-"
"I'm Canada. I am the person that feeds you, shelters you, and loves you."
I was.
Matthew turned the lights off as quick as lightning, and shut the door. His steps through the hall were a little forced as he ripped off a piece of paper from his notepad sitting by the phone. He dragged the equipment to the washroom while snatching a pencil off the kitchen countertop.
He wanted to make his note clear.
No one loves me. I'm going to kill myself. ~Matthew Williams
Yes. That would do.
He set the note on top of the tub and proceeded with the preparations. He took the ice block out of the cooler and set it inside the bathtub after which he placed a spare marble tile on top and sat. From one pocket of his pullover jacket, he fished out a thin metal wire. He looped it over the shower head and tied it tightly around his neck, wincing as he did so. And then the pill. He took it out of his other pocket and placed it in between his teeth.
Matthew looked around the dark room with his eyes. He would awaken to a brighter day in heaven, he was sure, and maybe someone better, or at least a more noticeable person would personify the country and change the world. With half-lidded eyes and an involuntary sniff to hold back the tears, he swallowed the pill whole.
By an hour – though he really didn't know - he felt his small body being affected by the drug; he felt the ice melting too and he didn't bother to sit upright. That was the point after all. Vision blurred, not because of tears, touch died, because he wished it so, but even as his hearing began to fade away he could still make out the sound of his front door was being pried open and a familiar voice shouting his name, cracked and full of worry.
A figure in the doorway and exhaustion evident with the sighs, but the person didn't wait. Even as it approached Matthew, he couldn't distinguish the face from all the other blurs that surrounded him nor match the build to anyone he knew. All he could guess was what was happening.
The wires were being cut. His body was being snatched up. His mind building with rage and disappointment but nothing to show for it.
But he also felt warm and a new sense of certainty and security coil around in his stomach. He felt his body gently being deposited on his bed, being tucked in, being kissed somewhere welcome. He wanted to cry. He was going to pass out before he knew who this person was, this guy that stopped his well-thought out plan of suicide!
And then he heard a voice. He could make out the person's jaw as it moved, the familiar beard residing there like he'd guessed in his drugged state. He begged for his ears to work again, if only for one more time.
The person was holding something, a piece of paper, his note.
"…lies. I prove them wrong today. They're all lies, mon amor."
His senses would've heightened from shock had he not been so afflicted.
His note was torn to ribbons in front of him and was discarded in a nearby trash bin.
Matthew was about to lose consciousness and accept defeat until he heard the 'I love you' that confirmed it all.
~()~
When Matthew awoke the next day, the morning was bright and beautiful, like nothing he had ever seen before.
~~~(To Save_END)~~~
A/N - *holds head in hand* Gaaaah. I didn't know how to end it. -_- Plus, I wrote a lot the night before but for some stupid reason it didn't save. So…it was annoying to re-do it. Anyway, even though this is a drabble, I'd like to know how I did for my first Franada fic and how I handled the common Canada-commits-suicide-due-to-lack-of-attention theme, readers, so drop a review.
I really will accept reviews that are just "win" or "fail" for this. ^^;
Sincerely,
~TMRomance
PS – On a side note, if anybody cares about why I named this "To Save" it's because, at the time of the request, I got two updates from different stories that both had the word 'savior' in the title. *shrug* On a random note, I keep pronouncing/reading 'savior' as 'savoir', which is a French verb for "to know". Or in this case, 'to acknowledge'. ;D (Well, actually, that'd be 'reconnaître', but- oh shut up! I'm trying to be cool!)