Disclaimer: A random story created from the lack of sleep…I do not own Hetalia or Hetaoni.
Nothing could remove the horrible images that were seen after escaping that mansion. After three full years, the images of his brother drenched in his own blood still haunted him.
Canada sighed, glancing at his southern brother before finally looking back at the German. The heavily accented words slowly became back ground noise as Canada reluctantly began to think back of his brother's untimely deaths. Each and every one caused by his brother's idiotic heroism and after the successful return of the victimized countries, the fear was evident in the Canadian.
Before the mansion, the thought of America's death never occurred to him, or the fact that his brother could ever be in such a weak position. Though it was obvious that his brother held incredible strength and stamina, (since he noticed that in all the time periods he saw, America was always the last one to be fatigued) he knew that his brother's greatest weakness was his selflessness when it came to rescuing a person. Regardless if he hated them previously or disliked them personally, 'the hero' would save them.
The Canadian nervously grabbed for his drink on the table. His hand shook as he reached for the glass cup and he cursed at his hand for being so, not that anyone noticed of course. Since the incident he has been acknowledged more, yet the fact he disappeared during the conversations never changed.
But a significant alteration that never failed to make him smile was his twin's sudden notice in everything he did. And to prove it, he felt a nudge on his hand and looked towards America, whose eyes kept looking towards the paper on the table. A clear, 'Are you okay' written messily on the corner of the page.
Pushing all previous thoughts aside he gave America a reassuring nod and looked away, pretending to be paying attention to the Italian now talking about how pasta united the world.
"Take a break for twenty minutes, no more, no less." Germany announced gruffly, unable to ignore the nations doodling on their work papers or sleeping in sight. He shook his head and allowed himself to be pulled by the Italian towards the kitchen to make more pasta.
The moment those words left his lips, various nations sped out of the room in hopes of attacking the cafeteria or relieving themselves in a rest room. But, Canada remained rooted to his seat.
The image of his cup haunting him as it colored into a thick, crimson liquid, followed by the sudden hallucination of his brother's lifeless eyes staring at him from the table. The corpse left a trail of blood to the cup and dripped onto the Canadian's lap. Canada's mouth opened for a silent scream before it was silenced by a hand on his shoulder.
"Yo, bro…You okay there?" America's voice filled the air, reminding him that yes, his brother was alive and not the corpse he previously saw.
He looked up to meet the sky blue eyes that he was very thankful for now. Those lovely eyes that always gave his allies hope. Those blue eyes that time after time stared dully at him, all life and significance sucked out forcefully. All love and hope leaked into the blood that covered the floor and all over his hands.
Giving his head a rough shake, he finally painted a smile on his face and responded to his brother. "Yeah, I'm just tired. I just need to refresh myself in the bathroom. You know how I get when I don't get enough sleep, eh?" He gave a nervous chuckle and knew his excuse wasn't believable, judging by his twin's hard eyes he knew that he wanted a real explanation.
But thankfully, it wasn't heroic to force an answer out of those in distress. American just gave a sigh and began to pat him awkwardly on the shoulder, hard callouses from previous non-technologically based years rub against the fabric of his shirt. Those hands covered in the very life liquid that poured out of him.
The hands that gripped his collar roughly; that forced him to promise to protect England and Italy since he could no longer. His thoughts once again pushed back at the American's voice.
"You know you can talk to me about anything, right Mattie?" Canada winced at the nickname and resisted the urge to push his brother away from himself. He knew his intentions were kind, but anything that reminded him of that time in the mansion made him angry. They were reminders that his brother treated life as if he had unlimited chances to continue.
The Canadian just shrugged off the hand and muttered a quick "Yeah," to the question, refusing to face America's concerned face.
A face that was ripped off and brutally mutilated by a smaller alien that found his corpse before Canada could discover it. A face that was lifeless. That could no longer smile his way and made him forget that his brother ever forgot his existence.
America looked his way one more time, his eyes never betraying the true feeling of concern for Canada. He just sighed again and gave him a hug and buried his face into the crook of his neck, smelling the constant stench of maple. "Okay, good. 'Cause I'm really hungry and kinda have been holding in my pee this entire time."
The maple nation couldn't hold back the chuckle for America's never ending comic relief and allowed the nation to leave him with the assurance that he would meet him in the dining hall in just a few moments.
The moment he left, Canada threw his arms around himself, reliving the hug that took place just moments ago. That simultaneous heartbeat and unconditional warmth. The atmosphere that leaked of love and safety. The familiar scent of sweet treats that his brother enjoyed to carry around in his jacket.
Everything that was his neighbor, brother, twin that he loved so unconditionally and everything he could lose instantly. Canada gave another heavy breath, glancing at the empty table again (the image of his brother's corpse making its way back into his mind) and left the room.
Maple…He really needed a drink after this meeting.
Author's Notes!
I don't know if I should make this a two-shot or keep it was a one-shot… I'm sorry for its depressing-ness and if I made Canada too OOC, but this is how I pictured the aftershocks of the mansion. Except of course, this one is just centered on Canada and America. This is my first story, so please treat me kindly. QvQ
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