Inspired by the part of the song "Cigarettes and valentines" by Green Day in quotations below.
""There's a siren screaming 'I'm alive' it cries. Red alert is the colour of your paper valentines."
Sirens made me think of ambulances, and red alert made me think of blood, and the paper valentines reminded me of those cards we used to make back in Elementary school to give to everyone in our class.
It was Valentine's Day and France had driven to Canada's house from the airport with the intention of finally asking him out. That notion was lost as soon as he stepped through the door and saw what he did.
Canada sitting at his kitchen table facing away from France with his earphones in; although, that wasn't what had startled France. It was Canada being startled by France coming up behind him and turning around enough that France could see what he had been doing that made France freeze, and sent Canada into a panic.
In his attempt to get away from the table and take his earphones out, the knife he'd been using to cut his wrists went in a little bit too deep.
Both of them were shocked by this new wound appearing on Canada's skin.
France immediately grabbed one of the dish towels hanging around and only thought about whether it was clean enough or not after he'd pressed it to the wound and tried to staunch the bleeding.
Tried to, at least.
Canada ripped his hand away from France's grip and, compared to his normal volume, screamed at him. "No! I don't want your help." Canada merely yelled the last bit, glaring at him. It shocked France.
Then Mathew ran off deeper into his house, rushing up the stairs, and slammed the door behind him. France ran too, but he was still just a little bit too late to stop the door swinging shut.
"Mathew!" France called out, pounding on the door. "Mathew, please open up. Please, Mathew. You're going to die with a cut like that. Open the door!"
The door still did not open but, he could hear Canada's answer from the other side.
"Maybe I want to die."
France gasped. "Mathew, please, think reasonably about this." He begged. "Why would you want to die? I don't want you to die. Please, Mathew, don't do this. Mathew, please, open this door." He saw sobbing and had stopped hitting the door. It was fruitless anyway; all it had done was cause noise. Now he just leaned against the door.
Canada's voice was cold when he replied. "No."
France's eyes flared up, he had to stop the Canadian from killing himself. The light simmered down with a realization. He could be patient. He would wait until Canada was unconscious from blood loss and wasn't pushing back against the door so that he could slam it open hard enough to break the lock without the fear that he would hurt him in the process. Then, he would go in there to help him, when Canada couldn't stop him even though he wanted to. He just needed to keep Canada talking so that he would know when he went unconscious.
"Mathew, please keep talking to me. I don't want you to die."
Francis breathed out a sigh of relief when he heard Canada's voice after a long pause. He was still alive.
"You may not want me to die. You're not cruel. But, you certainly don't care if I live! You don't care!" Canada tried to shout the end, but it seemed he was getting weaker; he couldn't get enough air in to actually shout it.
France smirked. Just a little longer now.
"That's not true; I do care about you Mathew. Please answer my question, why are you doing this?"
France asked the question even though he kind of figured that Canada had already said the reason, but he needed to keep him talking. He couldn't see him, but he could imagine that Canada was shaking his head inside the room.
"You're lying. You don't careā¦"
His voice was starting to slur and trail off.
"You didn't answer my question, Mathew." France tried to make his voice stern as he said it. "And, what makes you think that I don't care about you?"
Canada's voice was quieter now. "You just don't. I-I can't remember why, but I just know that you don't care about m-"
The ending was cut off as a thunk was heard from inside the room, Canada's head hitting the floor. Good, he wasn't near the door.
France backed up and charged at the door, it flew open. He could still be strong when he had to.
The puddle of red coming from Canada was spreading everywhere; it was even beginning to lap at where the door had been while closed. France was standing in a puddle of blood. He contained a shiver and gulped. He might have been too late to save him. All this was too much. It looked like he must have lost at least a litre of blood. If he lost another litre because France didn't get into action soon he would die. Of course, he wouldn't stay dead, but no one liked to die. It hurt, and you remembered it afterward.
911 was dialed and given directions calmly, but France didn't feel at all calm at the time. He was scared. There was almost no pulse to be found in Mathew's wrist or throat. Then again, it could just be because his hands were shaking so badly. He couldn't hear his heart beat either. Though that could be because of the ringing noise that was all that Francis could hear.
The pulse he did find was fluttery, jumpy, and faltering.
He was glad when the ambulance finally arrived. It had felt like it took them hours to arrive.
He was allowed to stay with Mathew in the ambulance and watched over him in his hospital bed after he'd had a blood transfusion and stitches put in.
He would live.
But what scared France was that he didn't know if his life would last past the first few minutes after he was up and found something sharp again. He stayed by Mathew's side. He truly didn't want that to happen. He didn't want Mathew dead, not on Valentine's Day, or ever.
