He struggled to see past the smoke lingering in the air, but couldn't see much else beside the house. While in the distance he saw a few dark shapes, he couldn't quite tell what it was, so, the house was his only option.
As he slowly walked towards the little house, he carefully thought of himself and what he was feeling. He noticed he was feeling… strangely calm. If this truly was hell, as he suspected, then there was nothing he could do. He had jumped off the bridge, so this was what he had to face.
Stopping at the door, he wondered if he should knock, but was very surprised when the door swung open, even more surprised as he saw who was behind it. Russia loomed over him, but seemed almost a completely different person.
On the surface, Russia now wore what were practically rags. His shirt was a dirty brown, falling apart, and much too thin for the weather outside. His pants seemed to match his shirt perfectly, like it was made from the same material, but it was cut off from halfway between his ankles and his knees, exposing much too pale, thin calves. Actually, the rest of him, from his bare feet to his large nose, was much too pale, but also much too thin. He could see his cheek bones perfectly, and his eyes had sunken in. The clothes fell loosely over his body, as though there wasn't much more than bone underneath. One of the strangest parts of his appearance, however, was the lack of scarf around his neck.
In his eyes and expression was where Canada found the most difference, however. His violet eyes were no longer childish, nor threatening. He held a somewhat inviting smile, but his eyes betrayed the fact that he was terrified. Of what, Canada couldn't be sure, but it was certainly terror, an expression he had never seen the Russian bear.
"Matthew!" He said, voice cracking as badly as his dry lips. "You're here! I hope your trip was safe! Would you like to come in?" The way he stepped aside so Canada could step inside if he wished, but stay outside if he didn't, suggested that he was doing everything he could to keep Canada comfortable and in charge of the situation. Like he feared… Canada? No, of course not… He must have been imagining it.
"Ah… thank you?" He said slowly, looking him up and down. Russia was most likely still alive, so there was little chance he had ended up here. Canada guessed that this was something created for him to make him suffer, but if it was, why wasn't he suffering yet? Was he being lured into false security? Slowly stepping past the tall Russian, he opted to keep his guard up.
"Would you like me to take your coat?" He asked, standing behind him but not touching him. Canada shook his head and he moved past him. They stood in a mesh between a living room, bedroom, and kitchen. Everything about the house seemed to be crammed into one room, except…
"No bathroom?" He asked as he noticed the lack of one.
"Ah…" Russia suddenly became very nervous. "I'm afraid we do not have the technology for such a thing… If you need to use it… um…" He looked around, seeming as though he were about to break down at any moment from the sheer fact that he could not give Canada more than a shovel and some rags to relieve himself. Things were getting stranger every second…
"No, it's fine!" Canada said, quickly raising his hands. "I was just wondering…. I don't need to go, I promise."
Russia relaxed a bit at that, but still stayed on alert.
"Would you like something to drink?" He then asked. "Tea? Wine? Anything? Or maybe a snack?"
That was when Canada became aware of his own thirst. It was likely from the smoky air around them.
" Tea would be nice…" he said softly, and Russia nodded quickly, turning to speak with someone who Canada had managed not to notice. Someone who Canada should have noticed immediately.
"Alfred! Get Matthew some tea! Now!" Russia said harshly to America, who stood in the kitchen, head down towards some partially rotten vegetables he was doing his best to cut. That was when Canada knew something was very, very wrong.
America turned to look at Russia once, then quickly put a kettle on the stove. That was enough for Canada to get the whole picture.
He wore a long dress, one of the older style dresses, but appeared to be from the exact same material as Russia's clothing. His hair was grown out long and tied up into a bun, and his body was just as pale and thin as Russia's.
His entire demeanor seemed to be changed as well. His head stayed down towards the floor, his eyes avoiding anyone else's. His hands wrung together like rags and he always kept a hunched, enclosed posture. His eyes didn't hold the same love for life that they used to. They just held a terrible brokenness that Canada could have never imagined seeing on his brother's face.
Most of Canada was revolted and terrified by the image, but a part of him rose to the surface before anything else could. He laughed.
"Am I really in hell?" He asked, causing the pair to tense and stare at him. "Or maybe I went to heaven instead? Honestly, what's going on here?"
They both stared at Canada, then at each other, before America took a deep breath and returned to the making of the tea, opting to keep quiet. That left Russia, who just got more nervous at that. He fidgeted as he stood there, tapping his fingers together and looking anywhere else but Canada. There was a very long silence as he struggled to find the proper way to answer. Finally he spoke.
"U-um…" he said in a tiny voice that trembled as though it were balancing precariously on the edge of a large cliff. "W…. would you… um…. Like something to e-eat?"
Canada just stared at him, then huffed and crossed his arms, making the Russian before him shrink back.
"No, I'm fine. I want to know what's going on," Canada said, no longer laughing. He had to figure out what was going on… This was all too strange.
"I… maybe… um…." Russia was chewing on his thumb now, within seconds causing it to bleed. "Maybe you wo-would like m-me to get y-you some wi-wine?"
"I don't need any wine!" Canada huffed. His voice hadn't been raised by much, but by how Russia reacted, he might as well have screamed at him.
"I'm s-sorry!" He suddenly burst out, actually falling to his knees, head bowed, hugging himself tightly. Canada never thought he would see the day when Russia, the largest nation in the world, would kneel down before him, a trembling and, as he soon noticed, sobbing wreck. "I d-don't know what you're a-asking of me!"
"H-hey…" Canada said quickly. He never liked it when people cried… Crouching down in front of the Russian, he put a hand on his shoulder. Russia visibly flinched, but his eyes were wide, staring at the floor as he processed what was happening. "Don't cry, eh? I'm sorry for being so pushy but… I'm very confused right now. I'm pretty sure I'm dead, so I'd like to know where I am. This could be heaven or hell… Or maybe limbo? But then I doubt you would be here."
Russia was silent for a long time, trying to think of what he should say.
"You're…" he said softly, each word coming out carefully thought out. "You're not dead…. I think….. I'm almost certain of it…. But I… I don't know what else to tell you…"
Canada sat back on his heels. He wasn't dead? That might have been something he was told as a lie… But he decided to play along. This Russia, likely made by his mind somehow, certainly didn't think he was dead, and even if it was a lie made by someone else, he believed it.
"All right then…" Canada said slowly. "Well…. Maybe I'm dreaming? But then when did I fall asleep? Hmmmm…. It must have been after April Fools day…"
America almost seemed to jump up, tense and alert. He glanced over his shoulder at Canada.
"A-April Fools day?" He asked slowly, but whipped around when Russia suddenly glared at him, falling silent again.
Canada stood up quickly, waving a hand towards Russia.
"No, wait," he said. "Let him speak. What were you going to say about April Fools day?"
America didn't turn around, keeping his head down, but his mind was clearly working.
"Don't worry," he said. "I won't get mad, okay? I want to know what you were going to say. Please?"
America was silent, then spoke, but kept his head down, working on the cup of tea with somewhat shaking hands.
"I…. I played that prank on you…" he whispered slowly. "I… you…. You were so upset…. And I…. I never…. I'm so sorry….." His shoulders shaking gave away that he was crying.
Canada was, admittedly, stunned. Never once had America apologized for something… And he had only caught the man crying once, after he had continuously battered him with all his imperfections. They had gone for ice cream after that to make up for it.
"Hey, don't worry about it!" He said quickly. "I forgive…." He stopped, looking at his brother. He was in a dress, thin and pale, looking half dead. He seemed to have no hope in the world, no reason to go on living… And something in Canada seemed happy about it. That he was paying back all of his many mistakes. But another part was horrified at his initial satisfaction at the clear suffering that was happening in this house. "I forgive you." He finished.
America was still, then carefully turned to meet his brother's gaze. He seemed to be looking at someone he hadn't seen for a long time. Someone he hadn't expected to meet there. He looked closely.
"Mattie…?" He asked softly.
Then there was a quick knock at the door.
Russia and America froze, then Russia inched towards the window and looked outside. Any color that may have been on his face before, was gone now, and the reaction caused America to tense as well. Russia slowly turned and stared at Canada as though he were looking at a ghost, opening his mouth to speak, but was cut off when there was a knock on the door, making him jump. Russia walked swiftly to the door, and America went back to his making tea, though was mostly just waiting for the pot to boil at this point. Canada, who didn't quite know what else to do or how else to react to someone being there, took the first thought that came to his head and went with it; hide!
Looking around, he noticed the obvious lack of places to hide. He would run towards one thing, only to realize how terrible of a place it was, then try and run towards something else. In the end he was running around the room in a very awkward manner, eventually just trying to hide in a little spot behind the stove, even though he was still halfway exposed. For the first time, he hoped his invisibleness would kick in and save him.
The door opened, and he took a deep breath, shutting his eyes tightly. He didn't know why he was so scared, but something in him told him to fear whatever was behind the door just as much as America and Russia seemed to fear it. The first person to speak wasn't America, nor Russia, and it took him several seconds to realize just who that person was.
"Hm, I'm not used to actually having to knock," the voice said, the clicking sound of footsteps telling him the person was walking into the room. "Did you forget I was coming?" He chuckled. "Well maybe I'll just forget to send food to your people, eh?"
Canada's eyes snapped opened and he looked up with his mouth agape, just as two violet eyes locked onto him, and the person whom had just entered smirked an almost evil smirk, resting a hand against his own cheek.
"Oh, I see I've already arrived," He said. "Hello me."
