AheIt was the first snowfall of the new year.
Canada and Prussia were curled up together on Matthew's couch, watching each others reflections in a darkened window as the snow drifted down, just out of reach. The falling flakes accumulated on the ground, adding their mass to the pre-existing drifts that lined these prairie fields. These incandescent little tears lining the sky weren't much, but together they could blanket a nation in unsoiled white. Not red, like in Russia, but the pure white of a promising future. They had chosen such an anonymous spot for that very reason – they were alone to enjoy the virgin winter.
Gilbert lifted a blanket from the floor and draped it over himself and Matthew before reaching behind them to light a saskatoon-scented candle. Matthew inhaled the sweet scent of his favorite berries and watched as Prussia stowed his lighter back in his pocket.
Matt pondered for a moment. "Is that how we are?" He mused to himself.
Gilbert sighed. "Birdie, be specific, please."
Canada looked indignant. "I'm trying to be philosophical. Don't interrupt me."
"Then by all means continue, my intellectual." Gilbert poked Matthew's cheek before motioning for him to speak.
Matthew rolled his eyes, watching the candlelight reflect onto the ceiling. "Let me start again. How are we here, Gil?"
Gilbert knew from experience that there's no stopping an intelligent Canadian. He decided to pursue the conversation, and spoke. "We took a plane from Ottawa to Regina, then drove out to Roleau... Or wherever the hell we are."
"We're a few kilometers from LeRoy, actually. But what I meant was, how did we end up alive? And why aren't we normal, instead of nations?"
"You sure are in a thinking mood tonight, eh?"
Matthew blew his bangs out of his eyes. "It's the snow."
"Well, to answer your questions..." Prussia adjusted himself so he was leaning back on his elbows, gazing at the darkening sky. "Because something put us here – or, I don't know, maybe we really did evolve from monkeys. Not my specialty. And as for being a country, well, someone has to do it. And even if someone else had your job, they'd be sitting here asking the same thing."
Matthew considered what he was going to say. "But you're n-not here, anymore... And you're still, well, like everyone else." He closed his eyes, hoping he hadn't set Gilbert off on a bitter rampage.
But Prussia was simply frowning. "Don't remind me. Once a nation, always a nation, even if your people disperse and your land is torn apart." He gazed out the window. The snow was falling harder, and the clouds were a boiling purple. Electricity suddenly traced a path from sky to earth, and Gilbert suddenly realized just how little he really knew.
Matthew nodded and carefully relaxed back into the cushions. "But, um, back to my first question."
Prussia shook his head. "Which one? I can't even remember."
The little Canadian squirmed around until he was looking properly at the burning candle. "Is that how we are? I mean, like the candle. Did we just randomly flare into existence when our nations were established? I mean, I remember being a kid, but the oldest – France, maybe, or even back to Rome and China – when does a country really begin to exist? With legislation? When its people are born? When its area is inhabited?"
Gilbert sighed. "Birdie, you know I don't have any answers. No one knows. We're here, and we have a job, and we do it."
"No... I know. I'm just thinking."
"In my opinion, philosophy is just a lot of unawesome questions and no clear answers."
Matthew jumped a little when thunder rolled powerfully across the flat white land surrounding their isolation. He hadn't noticed a flash, and thunder snows were very rare. He reveled in the shaking power for a moment before turning back to the silverette.
"Yeah, I guess it is, eh? But, still..."
Gilbert rolled his eyes. "What, you're not done yet?"
"Shut up. And no, I'm not. I was worrying, actually... If we just poofed into existence with the flick of your lighter..." Matthew glanced up to meet Gilbert's red eyes. He reached for a wooden coaster and clamped it down on top of the glass jar that housed his favorite candle. After a few moments of suffering, the flame disappeared entirely, leaving a tortured wick dripping smoke. Matthew replaced his coaster in the sudden darkness. He tentatively reached out and dipped a finger in the cooling purple wax, watching it coalesce into a second skin on his finger.
"Could we flicker out again, just as suddenly?"
Gilbert slowly dropped back to rest on the couch and turned to face Matthew. His red eyes searched the smaller man's face.
"Is that what you're so worried about, Matthew?"
Matthew hid his rapidly reddening face in the fabric of his gray night shirt. "No! Y-yeah... I just, maybe."
Gilbert's face fell. "Oh, birdie, I know you worry about these things..."
Matthew was appalled to find tears beginning to form at the edges of his eyes. "It's just, Gilbert, what if something happens? I don't – I don't want to end up dead, or gone, or worse, I don't want my people to disappear! It isn't like I'm not already forgotten, Gil, and you and me – w-we're the most likely to go in any event, and I just I don't want to l-lose you..."
At this point Matthew's voice broke and began a proper sobbing fit, tears running down his face as Prussia held him close and tried to console the shaking country. Canada fisted his hands into Prussia's new black shirt and apologized profusely through his tears for staining it as he tried to get a grip on himself again.
After a few minutes of Gilbert's stroking his hair, Matthew managed to calm down, still attempting to get control of his breathing.
"... I didn't know you felt so strongly, kid."
"D-don't you?" Matthew tried to keep his composure this time.
"Of course. But you're young... You shouldn't be tied down so early. You – and your country – have so many possibilities ahead." Prussia tried to keep his mind away from the subjects of Elizaveta and Roderich but failed, and promptly locked those thoughts away before turning back to the matter at hand. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Birdie. And we won't die, I promise. Okay?"
Matthew looked at Gilbert then, really looked at him. The usually unrattled, confidently awesome nation everyone knew had disappeared from the face he loved. Gilbert's – Prussia's – face told the stories of too many battles won and too many lost, not all of them on a battlefield. The only light came from moonlit reflections of snow, making his silver hair and white skin glow.
Suddenly Matthew realized the trials of being a nation born to fight.
He hugged Gilbert tighter. "I'm so sorry, Gil. I love you."
Gilbert grinned slightly. "You Canadians apologize too much."
Matthew noticed he didn't return the sentiment. He couldn't. Too much pain lay behind those words. But still, he knew what Prussia felt, even if the silverette wouldn't let himself realize it.
"I'll protect you, Birdie."
That was all it took to prove it.
Matthew smiled and snuggled closer to Gilbert, who readjusted the blanket. He could feel the tears drying on his face but couldn't be bothered to wipe them off.
They fell asleep together, listening for thunder.
A/N: Someone always ends up crying.
Done while listening to Death is the Road to Awe and Shellshock by Clint Mansell. That man is my hero.
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