Word count: 1,170
Chapter Rating: PG
Chapter Warnings: none, unless the mere mention of imperfect skin bothers you.
Summary: An AU in which Nation-tans are just people and Matthew helps others have the dreams they want to have.
Author notes: This will be at least a few chapters long. I'm thinking around nine or ten, but I'm still writing so lets see how it goes. And, for the record; I post more to my fic journal, so you'll always be a chapter or two behind here. The link to it is my homepage, so... if you want more you know where to go~

Enjoy!

Matthew's arms were filled with clothes. A coat, shirt, pair of pants and, this time, a scarf. He looked up at Ivan, trying not to stare at the scars adorning his neck. Ivan's hand was on them, fingers running over the healed gashes covering the area.

"I, um, you should have told me you were gonna take it off, I'd have gotten rid of them for you." He said meekly, chancing a glance at his neck. He'd seen glimpses of them before, accidental flashes as he hooked him to the PASIV. Ivan merely shook his head.

"I'm not so sure you could." He replied, frowning lightly. Matthew wanted to tell him that, no, actually he could because he'd done that sort of thing before for others; but there was something distinct in Ivan's eyes that kept him silent. The sort of look that made Natasha lash out at him back in reality.

So even though Natasha wasn't there (not in the dream at least, she was probably where she always was; holding her dear brother's hand as he slept) he didn't dare pry. He had a feeling she'd know, somehow. No one seemed to understand Ivan quite like she did, and if there was any indication he'd asked or said too much she'd be on him again as she had been the first time he asked what was wrong. He quickly learned not to ask that.

"The ocean looks lovely." Ivan said, turning away from him as though the awkward silence hadn't fallen between them.

"Um, thank you." Matthew said, not bothering to look at it. Ivan always said that, always seemed to marvel at how warm the sand felt under his feet, how crystal clear and beautiful the ocean was. By this point Matthew was sure he could make a postcard perfect beach better than he could anything else; and that was saying something. The only oddities were the things Ivan asked for.

Such as the glaciers lining the horizon. He had never thought someone would want giant bits of ice in a tropical paradise, but Ivan did. He also wanted sunflowers among the palm trees, and it didn't matter that there was no soil; they grew up, facing the sun that never set, all the same.

The water was still warm despite it all (this was also a specific request; Ivan had said he only wanted so many reminders of home), though Matthew didn't go in himself. He sat on the beach towel in his three piece suit, Ivan's clothes say next to him, and watched him swim laps in the sea. He'd suggested setting up the dream and letting Ivan enjoy it alone before (as he was already, as usual, feeling uncomfortably warm) but Ivan had insisted he come with him. He seemed to enjoy having him around, even if their conversations always seemed to taper off and die. Ivan didn't seem to mind this.

Matthew shrugged off his jacket, manipulating a palm tree to bend sideways, casting him in some shade. He'd long since stopped worrying about Ivan's subconscious attacking him; his dreams were always empty. It had concerned him at first, but asking him about it had been when he learned not to pry (Natasha had not taken kindly to his curious questions, and although the bruises he'd gotten when she knocked him into the counter had long since faded, the lesson he'd learnt from it was as vivid as ever).

"Matthew," suddenly Ivan was standing in front of him. "You should join me." He said, sounding a little hopeful as he pushed his wet bangs out of his face (the sand didn't stick to his legs though, and that was all Matthew's doing).

"Nah, I'm fine. I'm not a strong swimmer anyway… besides, you should enjoy this before the kick hits." He said, not particularly keen on gallivanting around in the ocean with a client. Usually he would just set people up and let them have the dream they wanted; but Ivan always requested he join him and Matthew had a hard time saying no. It felt like it took forever this way, but Ivan was happy, Matthew was paid and he was never actually there longer than any other appointment so he couldn't think of a real reason to refuse going in with him.

"You can't make yourself a swimmer?" He asked, a grin playing at his lips. Matthew squinted up at him, the sun shining brightly behind Ivan.

He grinned back. "If I were my brother you'd have had me." He said, not taking his bait. Of course he could, he just didn't want to. He wasn't much of a beach kind of guy anyway, even if the one he'd made for Ivan was near perfect (he couldn't call it perfect; the icebergs always ruined it for him, but Ivan wanted them).

Ivan eyed him, interested. "I should like to meet him one day—Alfred, you said he was?" Ivan asked, the ocean forgotten to him now as he admired the sunflowers around them. Sometimes he would just sit among them, not even looking at the sea.

"Yeah, that's his name. You have a good memory." Matthew replied, not realising he'd mentioned him so much.

"You have to, don't you?" Ivan asked, looking back to him with that same look on his face. It was almost as though he was expecting an answer to an entirely different question.

"What do you mean?" He asked, the word slipping out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Natasha would surely be cross with him if she ever found out he was breaking her rule (Don't ask questions you don't need to ask).

Ivan frowned, looking back to the sunflowers. He snapped one off at the top, holding it in his hands (it was easily bigger than his palm). "Otherwise everything will be forgotten, da?" He replied, not looking back at him. Matthew hadn't expected an answer. Ivan never answered him, Natasha would always—

Ivan would never answer him in reality. Matthew felt as though he was starting to understand something.

"And then how would you make such a beautiful beach?" He asked, looking back over the ocean. Matthew followed his gaze, almost expecting something to have changed; some sort of life altering answer to be sitting out there atop the waves. But nothing was different. The water was shimmering and the glaciers looked a breathtakingly bright white under the sun. He should have known better than to think anything would be different; he'd made all this, every drop of water and every inch of iceberg. He supposed it was silly to think Ivan would tell him anything revealing, either. His whole family (as small as it was) seemed to be rather secretive; why would he be any different just because his little sister wasn't around?

Ivan was still watching the ocean, clutching the sunflower in his hand, when the world was filled with music and the kick ripped them out of the dream.

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