A/N: It figures that I fall in love with the one pairing not even hinted at in the entire series. I'm not quite sure why this keeps happening to me! But, I'm in love for the pairing so I've got to write about it. Hope you all enjoy it!

"I think it's a form of withdrawal." Canada's eyes, slightly glazed over violet orbs, gazed down at his shaking hands. It was odd that today of all day was when the Russian noticed because they really weren't trembling as violently as they normally did. Of course, it was odd that the larger Nation had noticed the hands shaking at all. Or himself for that matter, seeing as no one else in the World Meeting was paying the slightest bit of attention to him.

That was how Canada expected the entirety of the meeting to go, as well. With no one calling on him for an opinion, or asking him how his country was doing, or anything of the sort. With the exception, perhaps, of his Papa. France generally tended to remember him, even if he didn't always see him. Then, all of a sudden, Russia had sat down in the perpetually empty seat beside him.

Now, the Russian man hadn't looked any different from what he normally did to Canada. He still had an eerily pleasent smile on his face, one that didn't quite match up with the hardness of his eyes, and hadn't given him even a second-look.

All was as it should be.

Canada had let himself slip into the quiet void that came with few to no other Nation's seeing him. Obviously, he was still paying attention to what was being said on the off chance that something important would be hidden inside of the irritating rambles but he wasn't all there that day. Or maybe the issue was that he was more there than he normally was.

Almost an hour and a half into the meeting, the thin Nation could feel eyes boring into the back of his head. Unused to the feeling, because everyone was always looking through him and not at him, he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Canada waited a few moments, shoulders tensed up, waiting for the eyes to just go back to looking at the currently speaking Poland, but they didn't. They just kept staring at him. And staring. And staring.

With a gulp, Canada turned slightly in his seat so that he could see the larger man sit next to him. Only to find that, yes, Russia was in fact staring at him. And it wasn't even one of those questioning stares, that type that said 'I-see-you-but-I-don't-know-you' that was so common on the other Nations faces when they realized that Canada was actually in the room with them.

And then he'd questioned his hands.

Why the Russian had questioned them, Canada wasn't certain. He didn't know why he'd just answered him either. Especially not with that answer. Sure, it was what he actually thought was wrong with him but that had never been anything he'd shared with anyone else before. Not even his dear Papa had gotten the truth when he questioned Canada; just a lie that had been spun on the spot.

There was silence after he spoke and Canada was sure that Russia had already forgotten about him. Sadly, he couldn't even say that it was a record. There were plenty of other Nations that had forgotten about him in mid-sentence, Turkey and Spain being the top two on his list. But Russia's iced blue eyes were still staring at him with that odd look on his face, the one that Canada couldn't quite recognize, so maybe...Maybe he hadn't?

"Withdrawal, da? From what?" Russia's smile didn't falter even when the presumably younger Nation jerked. Funny. One wouldn't expect him to be so surprised seeing as they were in the middle of a conversation. Perhaps it was a subject that Canada wasn't particularly fond of continuing? That thought just made him all the more interested in the mousy looking boy though. The fact that he had just noticed him that day also caught his attention.

Canada clenched his left hand into fist for a few moments, watching how they trembles increased when he used the muscles in his hand, before straightening out to match his right one. They were actually rather mild trembles compared to what he was used to but, if one bothered to look, they were still easy to spot. And for some reason he didn't understand, the voice in the back of his head (which always managed to sound like England) didn't protest against him explaining his thoughts.

"I...don't know. Maybe..." Canada's voice, always quiet and soft, wavered for a moment. The God's honest truth was that he wasn't completely sure about what caused it. He had his theories, which were most likely correct seeing as it was his body, but they'd never been proven. "...From myself?"

Beside him, Russia tensed. Withdrawal from himself? The smile slid off his face, just slightly, and he tilted his head at the other Nation. Canada had lowered his hands back down into his lap, completely ignoring the fact that they had suddenly started to shake harder, and turned his attention back to the conference going on around him. As though what he had just said had no real consequence. Obviously, Russia wasn't about to just let it go at that though. In fact, the fact that it was the only information he'd been giving sent a prick of annoyance through him. "Is that so, da? And, tell me, what does that mean?"

Canada froze. Honestly, he wasn't sure how to explain what he meant to the other Nation. Half of the time, it was difficult for him to explain it to himself. "Well..." He paused, violet eyes once more setteling on the man beside him. "I suppose that it means I'm loosing myself. Sort of lik-"

The Nation was suddenly cut off by Germany, who had stood up at the other end of the table, announcing that it was time for a lunch break. Evidently, when they got back they would be starting some sort of vote (that had been agreed upon by everyone but Canada) but until then they would have an hour or so on their own.

A small, unheard sigh left his throat as Russia stood up, without a word or another glance towards him, and left the room with everyone else.

Canada chose to wait where he was.

The next World Meeting didn't take place for another six months. This time it took place at a hotel in Southern Italy, Romano being their ungracious host. And, as it always went, Canada was left to try and book his own room before the meeting started. That was how it always went, with no one remembering that he needed a room too. Even his Papa forgot to book somewhere for him to sleep, though Canada couldn't bring himself to blame the French Nation.

Something was different this time, though. When he had gone up to the counter to give out his credentials so he could get a free-room, one of the perks of being a Nation, his mind had frazzled out.

Only that wasn't exactly the most accurate description.

His mind had been covered by a sort of haze since he woke up that morning. It wasn't an unusual feeling, Canada had felt it often enough in the past few centuries, but it certaintly wasn't a pleasent one. It was like a fog had placed itself over certain parts of his brain, making all of his movements slow and his thought-process sluggish. Only, there were also time where his brain felt like it was going at a thousand miles per hour, zooming and zipping around in his head. It was starting to give him a headahce.

The fact that his hands were positivly shaking certaintly didn't help matters. Not just slight trembling like at the last World Meeting. No, they looked like they were on the verge of jumping off his wrists; awful spasm and shakes that made everything difficult. The slight film of sweat that had dried on his palms had gotten to be nuisence too.

"Sir?" Canada jumped slightly at the impatient voice. Who was speaking to him? Certaintly not Kumajirou, the polar bear would never address him as such. Violet eyes widened and an embarressed flush laced his features when he realized that the voice had come from the woman standing behind the counter. Waiting for an answer of sort. Trying to check him into a room.

"Desole'e! W-would you mind repeating the question?" That should have been embarressing. Really. It should have mortified that Canadian, making someone repeat themselves because he hadn't been paying enough attention. But it didn't. It didn't really make him feel much of anything.

"I asked what name you want your room to be placed under?" There was a hint of irritation in the brunnette's voice this time around.

Oh. She just wanted his name. But...what was his name? His mind wouldn't supply an answer. Which probably should have bothered him. It didn't though. The fog around his brain wouldn't allow any sort of irritation to be felt at something like that, nor would it allow any sort of an answer to float to the surface.

What was his name? Several long moments passed before any semblance of a name popped into being. "Matthieu. Matthieu Williams." His Papa had named him, he thought once the words had left his mouth. His French Papa. That made him French too, didn't it? No, the voice in his head (the one that sounded just like England) told him. He wasn't French. Not anymore. Not for a long time.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't accept that name." This time the woman didn't even try to hide her irritation. "I need the name of the country you represent if I'm going to let you enter the World Meeting."

Of course. That was what they always booked it under. But...He didn't actually remember what country he was representing. What...Country...The sudden realization sent a jolt of panic through his chest.

That wasn't good! He had to remember what country he was! He was a Nation! He shouldn't have forgotten in the first place! But he just couldn't remember where he was. There was English in him, and French, and even some American. Something off far in the deepest depths of his memories, telling him think further back, but he knew that wasn't the right answer either.

"I'm...I'm..." Canada could feel his mouth dry out, throat tightening painfully. The haze over his mind hadn't lifted; making it hard for him to even panic properly. The feeling that this had happened before was just under the surface.

"Mattvey?" Russia let one eyebrow lift slightly, a hint of amusement behind the plastered on smile. "What are you doing still in the lobby? You will be late, da?" The amusement flickered away when the other Nation turned to look at him and he noticed that the normally pale boy's skin had turned a sickly shade of white; pasty looking, sweat marring his forehead, and hands shaking violently. He looked unsteady, as well.

"R-russia!" It took a moment for the words to sink into his fog-ladden mind. "O-oh, oui, I'm just trying to get checked in." Canada's throat suddenly unlocked itself, at the sight of someone that clearly recognized him, and slowly his eyes drifted over to the larger Nation. "I-it seems that my room wasn't bought with the o-others."

"Yes, and if you want to get checked in too sir then I'm going to need your country name." The woman behind the counter snapped. Her well-manicured nails made a loud clacking noise on the marble counter-top. "So please, Mr. Williams, what country are you representing?"

"O-oh, I'm...I'm..." Again, names escaped him. Only, he had to say something this time now that Russia was here. He couldn't very well tell the other Nation that he had woken up that morning with no idea who he was.

Russia blinked. "Mattvey? You are alright, da?" There was something very off about the small, trembling Nation. Something that sparked a vague memory, one that really shouldn't have been vague at all, of the last time he spoke to the timid man. He just couldn't quite work out the fine details of it.

"I'm...I'm..." Canada suddenly wished that he had brought Kumajirou along with him. The furry little bear wouldn't have told him his name, he never did, but it would have been nice to have the comfort of holding him. The soft fuzz always made him feel better.

"Canada? What is the ma-"

"Thats it!" And suddenly the fog was gone from his mind, just like that , and Canada could remember exactly who he was. "I'm Canada! Place me down under Canada!" He was the second largest country in the world. He was the brother of America. He was the son of France. He was many things, many people and many nationalities, but above all, he was Canada. And even the odd look he was getting from both Russia and the clerk couldn't dampen the large smile on his face.

A large, gloved hand was suddenly clamping down on his shoulder, with much more force than necisary. Again, Canada didn't mind. Instead he turned around and gave the normally terrifing Nation a grateful smile. "Thank you, Russia, thank you very much! Merci Beaucoup!"

"Mattvey." Russia tilted his head slightly, eyes scrunching up as he looked down at the other Nation. "Mattvey, you have some things to explain, da? Why do you not tell me what is going on? It will be good for you, da?"

Oh. Wait. Suddenly, Canada let himself shrink back away from Russia. Of course. Now he had to try and explain that, didn't he? How...Awful. "Well...Y-you see...I...I sometimes f-forget myself. R-really, I f-forget where I am. Like...What I r-represent. I'm fine now though." Not really. He wasn't fine, but he would live.

"Then we should get to the meeting, should we not? I do not want to have to make someone give me their seat because they accidentally took mine." Pleasent smile still in place, despite the horrible black aura that was suddenly surrounding him, Russia turned and started to steer Canada towards the elevator.

And, once the meeting was over, or maybe even just when it came time for lunch, he would get his Mattvey to explain in more detail what had just occured.

Russia was not just going to let his go.