The things I write when I am half asleep...Enjoy~

Matthew sat in his room, it was quiet in his small home at the moment. Alfred's Revolution had just ended yesterday and Arthur was living in his home healing from not only physical wounds but emotional ones as well.

The Canadian's border with America was stronger then ever he did not want to be invaded again. He could feel the American's happiness, they were celebrating their freedom. Sighing Matthew stood and went to check on Arthur.

Defeat had left quit the bitter taste on his own tongue. But he was okay with that. He knew that Arthur was not though. The Empire had been drinking in the room Matthew had loaned him. And it scared Matthew a little more then it should have. Taking a breath he opened the door and quickly stepped in.

Bottles littered the ground and desk that the blond sat at. His body was tense, uniform still muddy and torn. Matthew had taken off his red coat and only wore his uniform pants and white shirt. "England?" he whispered.

The other tensed and slowly looked at him. He was clearly drunk but Matthew didn't want to mention it. "Y-You need to eat," he said quietly.

Arthur stared at him, "Alfred?" he muttered confusing him for his twin. He slowly stood anger crossing his features. "What more do you want from me?" he growled. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"N-non Arthur! It is me," he said softly but his words went unheard. He reached out to try and control the Brit.

Lifting the bottle in his hand he swung it at Matthew. It hit him hard on the cheek and he fell to the ground. His cheek began to bruise quickly. His fall broke other bottles around him, the glass pushed into his side breaking his skin.

Matthew cried in pain, blood began to stain his white shirt. He struggled to get up his hands getting cut on glass shards. He whimpered when Arthur followed him.

"Get out! You took everything from me! I have nothing and nobody now!" he shrieked at the terrified blond.

Canada managed to get out of the room before the door slammed shut. He sat there for a few moments, tears pouring down his cheeks. He trembled in fear and pain, "Y-You have me," he whispered. But he didn't matter at all did he?

He was so scared and he wanted his...no he couldn't go to him. He couldn't go to him anymore. Alfred probably hated him.

There was a crash in the room behind him. Whimpering he struggled to his feet, he couldn't stay here! Arthur might hurt him again. He grabbed his boots and the red uniform coat and hurried out of his own home.

He stumbled out into the cold night, it was raining. It had been raining since yesterday. He pulled his boots on before he began to run.

The Canadian pulled on his coat as his blood mixed with the rain. His hair was drenched quickly as he hurried off. His feet led him towards the border between him and Alfred.

He had no where else to go. Would his...would Alfred turn him out?

He remembered how him and Alfred use to be. How they loved each other...was that all over? Did they lose everything with this war? He had been the only one he had loved.

Ever since they were children he had loved Alfred more then he had loved anyone else. He had thought that Alfred loved him to. But he wasn't sure anymore. It terrified him to think that they had lost that.

He paused at their border and looked out at Alfred's land. The air was filled with his citizens happiness and excitement. Sighing he slowly crossed their border. He knew that Alfred would be able to feel him on his land.

He had never wanted this war, he hated Arthur so much and didn't want to fight with his brother. Why had he been pushed into this?

He walked towards the town he knew Alfred lives in. Matthew was panting a little from the loss of blood. His back was soaked through with blood. But no one could see it through his red coat.

The celebrates grew quiet as he walked slowly through the small town. Many sneered at him and he gained many glares. Some even pulled out guns. He cringed away from them, scared again.

Matthew's cheek was dark purple from being hit. His body was shaking as he neared the American's home. He prayed that Alfred was there. Drops of blood marked the trail he had been walking. He stumbled a little on the porch before he reached the door.

His glove touched the door, staining it red. He knocked softly as his eyes grew heavy. His body tilted to the side and he fell to the ground. Matthew panted from the pain and the glass was pushed further into his side. He laid there whimpering in agony.

Was this how it would really end?

Hope you enjoyed, if you review I may continue on this one...