Wow, people actually like this! Erm... Well, here's Ch. 2!

Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia this wouldn't be here.

The time for the meeting came much sooner than expected. Canada downed a couple cups of coffee before leaving the hotel and was well into his third as he entered he large meeting room. He looked over his shoulder to ask France where they were to sit, but to his surprise the Frenchman had vanished. He was unable to dwell on that fact for to long as he was approached by Arthur, also known as England.

"Oh, um, hello there..." Arthur stared blankly at him for a moment, "Um..."

"Matthew..."

"Right!" The Briton blushed; embarrassed by the fact that he had forgotten his brother-in-law's name... Again. "Have you seen that frog anywhere? I need to have a word with him."

Frog?

Oh right, Francis.

Canada looked over his shoulder once more, "He was with me just a second ago..."

"Oh well, it can wait," Arthur smiled, "So how have you been? Anything going on?"

"Nothing much, just planning on traveling sometime soon.

"Really?" The Briton seemed intrigued, "Where, might I ask?" He listened politely as Mattie explained his plans for the anniversary trip to Quebec with France. England's smile faltered briefly at the mention of the older blonde, "Really? That sounds nice..." Did those green eyes shine with pity, or was Canada's own just playing tricks on him? "If you excuse me, I'll go find that frog for you."

The offensive nickname struck a chord, "...He has a name, you know!" He also has been acting strange as all hell for no apparent reason. Disappearing like that, not talking, he didn't even try to molest anyone today! Again Matthew got that pitying, knowing stare from England that only served to frustrate the Canadian even more.

"Yo Mattie! Over here!" Canada's twin brother, America called him over. Alfred had his usual sappy grin and gestured to the chair next to him, "Take a load off, meeting doesn't start for a few more minutes."

After he was seated Canada turned to his brother, "Have you seen Francis? He was with me a few moments ago..."

America shrugged, his eyes narrowing in disdain, "Beats me," Out of the corner of his eyes he watched Arthur leave the meeting room, "Where's Iggy going?"

"He just said he was going to help find Francis."

"WHAT?! I thought I told him he wasn't allowed anywhere near that bastard!" America looked around in a panic, "God knows what that pervert will do if he finds Iggy alone..."

As soon as the words were out of the American's mouth his northern relative punched him square in the jaw, drawing the attention of every other nation in the room.

Alfred quickly recovered, and realized what was happening, "Oh God... You don't know, do you?"

"...Know what?! What's going on?! First Francis is acting strange then Arthur and now you... I demand an explanation!"

At that very moment the main entry doors slammed open, revealing Romano and Spain. Lovino's face was passive, remorseful even, and Antonio's reflected a raging fury. Balanced on the Spaniard's shoulder was a battle axe that looked like it had been recently sharpened and shined. One hand gripped the shaft of the weapon effortlessly while the other arm was tightly wrapped around Lovino's shoulders. He was steered to an empty seat across from Canada. The Italian was shoved towards the chair, "Siéntate," Antonio growled. Wild green eyes suddenly bored into the Canadian's, as if this whole arrangement was his fault.

Romano spoke up, "He isn't part of this!"

"¡Cállate!" The Spaniard's voice was downright dangerous. His eyes scanned the room, flicking back to Matthew every once in a while. Antonio let out another angry growl and positioned himself at Romano's shoulder. The South Italian looked down, shameful.

The other countries whispered amongst themselves, all casting furtive glances towards the Canadian. All eyes held that same look of pity, every expression when talking was of disgust.

What in the name of maple was going on here?!

Another thing was also becoming apparent... The meeting should have started already. Several nations looked at their watches then at each other, each face an identical mask of surprise, then a single whisper went around, and that knowing, pitying look returned.

Germany was late for a meeting.

Not only that, but he was late for a meeting in his own capitol.

Something was terribly wrong with that picture.

At that moment the door was pushed open again. Germany, closely followed by Italy, made their way to a pair of the few adjacent seats remaining.

"Ve! How many times do I have to say I'm sorry before you believe me?!"

Ludwig looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep, he also looked like he was ready to shoot the first person he saw, so everyone instinctively gave him a wide berth as he made his way to his chair. Feliciano continued to blubber various apologies.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, I swear! You know I would never do such a thing if I had been thinking straight! Please understand me! I wouldn't have dared throw away what we had after I spent so long—"

The irritated German rounded on Italy, "For once in your life vill you please just SHUT UP?! I am sick of hearing your voice!"

The brunette fell silent but broke into fresh tears. He took his seat quietly while Germany remained standing.

"I apologize for my lateness; I assure you that it vill not happen again." He then moved to check attendance. Ludwig did this regardless of who was in charge of the meeting. Carefully he ticked down the list of names, looking up to match it with a face. He froze after reaching one name in particular. "...France..."

xxxxx

"Francis Bonnefoy!" The name shattered the silence like a gunshot.

Said man flattened himself against the stretch of wall next to the door. He was supposed to be hiding as to not get killed but his curiosity led him to spy on the meeting via the cracked main door. Ludwig had brought the Frenchman's absence to the attention of the rest of the world. There was a long, eerie silence.

A small voice came from next to him, "Hello there... Frog."

Had he been a lesser man, there was a good chance that France would have screamed like a girl. He whipped around with his heart thundering in his chest to see England glaring at him. "M-Mon Angleterre? Why are you not at ze meeting?"

"Funny, I should be asking you the same..." The Briton slowly walked over to the door, placing a hand against it.

Francis paled, "Arthur... Don't!"

"Give me one bloody good reason not to, you cheating scumbag..." Simultaneously England slammed the door open and shoved France into the room. Arthur bellowed in an obnoxiously loud voice, "WHY HELLO THERE FRANCIS BONNEFOY, HUMAN MANIFESTATION OF FRANCE! HERE, IN THIS ROOM, AT THIS MOMENT! WHY WERE YOU OUTSIDE THE DOOR FRANCIS? IT LOOKED AS IF YOU WERE HIDING FROM SOMEONE! WELL YOU'RE HERE AT THE MEETING NOW! IF ANYONE NEEDS TO SETTLE ANYTHING WITH HIM, FRANCE—AKA FRANCIS BONNEFOY— IS PRESENT AT THIS MEETING!" England took a deep breath, "You're welcome," He stated before taking his seat on the other side of America.

Tensions were so high.

No one dared to breathe.

Very calmly, Ludwig climbed up onto the table and walked across it. He hopped off in front of France and took a few steps forward. Nothing about his body language portrayed anger or hostility, until he pulled out his gun. With military grade precision the barrel was lined up with the patch of skin between Francis's eyebrows.

"Not so fast, Ludwig!" Spain walked over, "He touched my Lovi first, so I get first hit!" They both had a deadly calm around their actions, and somehow a furious sort of energy poured from their words.

Canada looked on in horror. Several nations, himself included, got up and moved in closer to the confrontation. What were they talking about? What was going on here?

Germany nodded in agreement, but did not lower his weapon. "...If you insist..."

Smiling as he allowed the axe to fall into his other hand, Antonio slipped into a fighter's stance.

They were ready to kill the Frenchman, and the others were just going to watch?!

Where was the humanity in that?!

And with that thought Matthew dashed forward. He shoulder tackled Germany in a way that only a hockey player could, and threw himself in front of Francis, halting Spain's advance. "...Wh-Whatever you all are fighting about... I'm sure it can be resolved without violence! No one is going to lay a hand on him as long as I'm here!"

"You're really going to protect him after vhat he's done?!" Ludwig demanded. Upon seeing Canada's confused reaction, the German stated. "He didn't tell you..."

"Tell me what?!" Mattie spun to face the one he championed moments ago. "Francis, what are they all talking about?!"

"I'll tell him!" Antonio offered ruefully. "If you won't say it, I will!" France looked to the ground, resigned. The Spaniard took that as a sign to continue, "He slept with my Lovi! And it didn't stop there! He also slept with Feliciano!"

Silence.

Shock.

Still.

Silence.

Very slowly, Canada looked to the Frenchman.

Everything fell into place.

The roses, France's odd behavior, Spain's anger, Germany's irritation, Romano's reserve, Italy's hysteria, and all of those looks of pity...

Everything made sense.

Tear filled cerulean eyes met those of a lighter shade. "Why?"

"Mathieu... Please... We were drunk and—"

"Non!" The younger man shook his head furiously. "You lied to me!"

France moved closer to the Canadian, reaching out cup a tear-stained cheek, "I'm so sorry... So, so sorry..."

In retaliation Matthew slapped his ex-boyfriend with enough force to send him to the ground, "No!" The young blonde backed away, shaking with hurt and rage. "You said... You said things would be different this time!" He let out a sob, "You promised you'd change... But...!" Unable to stand the sight of the man before him Canada turned tail and sprinted out of the meeting.

Throughout this no one noticed a pair of red eyes watching the scene unfold from the far corner of the room. With a quietness that seemed uncharacteristic for this man, he got up and retrieved Matthew's forgotten briefcase before slipping out of the room's other exit. Once out he looked around carefully, wondering where the Canadian could have run off to before setting off to find him.

USUK, Spamano, and GerIta are my OTP's and I realized that a driving force for this story is the fact that I don't have a particular preference when it comes to pairing Canada (though I do realize that this fic is anti-France, and there's a chance it'll stay that way)

So... Review? Fav? Alert? I guess I'll stick to the 5 reviews = New Chapter formula... Hopefully it works?