Notes: I hate putting notes at the top... Regardless, happy readers, this fic is special in that you will need to read What the Mind Forgets to make sense of the scenes in this fic. And while you're reading my stuff, try Lonely and Call and Response, too? They have nothing to do with this fic, but they don't get a lot of love (because they're weird kink meme fills, whereas this is a normal kink meme fill) and I'm rather fond of them.
Ukraine knelt near the back of the church, the long pew empty but for her. She bowed her head and crossed herself thrice and murmured old, familiar prayers. It had been a while, even by nation standards, since she had stepped into a church outside of the Easter Service and a handful of ceremonies. But the wafting scent of incense and the colourful icons soothed her and reminded her of home, even while tucked away in a quiet Ottawa suburb.
She recited the old familiar prayers of her childhood and adolescence, but her mind anxiously fluttered towards Canada, lying comatose in a hospital bed. She curled her fingers ever tighter, trying to hold back her imagined wishes, to touch and cure the bruises and cuts and damage on Canada's face. Her frantic mind conjured up pictures of Canada, moments before and after her was struck by a bus, fabricated from the patchy accounts she had heard of the accident.
And before she could silence her fretful, dreadful imaginings with the rhythm and cadence of memorised prayers she was already considering the terrible implications of a nation's functional immortality. What if Canada slept on, oblivious to the world and his loved ones, forever? Never recovering from the sleep that held his mind captive, would his people fall into a drowsy stupor as well? Even worse, what if they continued on, oblivious that the heart and soul of their nation lay in a perfected sleep.
Ukraine could not hold back the small, ragged sob that shook her shoulders. She tried to hold back the second trembling crying that threatened to burst free of her throat, and she choked on it painfully. She let go of the tight reign she held on her emotions and let the tears flow freely down her cheeks.
A gentle hand on her shoulder broke her from her dreadful imaginings. The priest sat on the pew next to her and wordlessly prompted her to sit alongside him. When he asked her what was troubling her, his accent was so heavy and familiar that her heart leapt in joy at the chance to speak her first language again.
"Someone I love dearly has been hurt greatly, and he is needed by many people, like his family," she explained vaguely. She wanted to be clear about her troubles, but Canada's privacy was also something she had to be concerned about. "And his recovery is uncertain."
"Do you trust that he is a part of a greater plan?" the priest replied, his Ukrainian bright and precise.
"Even if he failed to recover as part of a greater plan, I would be in mourning, not singing in joy," Ukraine answered.
"It is only human to want those you love to stay by your side," the priest offered. "And there is no shame in mourning the loss of a loved one. But have faith that should he recover, it is the work of God, and should he not there will be something greater and brighter in the future. It is a weak tonic to your woes, I know," he added. "But you must find your own peace."
"Thank you," Ukraine said, bowing her head briefly in polite acknowledgement. She stood and shook the priest's offered hand, and left feeling both heavier and freer than she had when she entered.
Notes: So why didn't this chapter make the cut? I originally wanted to have this scene in when I was planning the fic, but when I was writing I realised that it really broke the flow and focus of the story. This scene would've been placed before Matthew apologises to Ukraine when he's first awake, and it really would've been a shift in gear too dramatic to work, seeing as nearly every other chapter has Matthew in the room, at least. Opinions?