(This was supposed to be a one-shot but I came up with this little scene... so here we have a strange hybrid story that doesn't quite make sense)

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS REFERENCES TO CURRENT EVENTS THAT MAY BE FOUND OFFENSIVE. The story does not focus on the Ukrainian Crisis itself, but rather the Hetalia characters' reaction to it, specifically Canada's. Historically, Canada has close ties with Ukraine and the Canadian officials have already shown support for Ukraine during the Crisis. In this story, Canada is in a relationship with Ukraine, so it's only natural that he would be devastated by what's happening to her people. And when I say people, I mean ALL of the people, because the separatists are dying, too, and THOSE ARE STILL UKRAINE'S PEOPLE. We would do well to remember that in a Civil War, everybody gets hurt, and nobody wins.

To clarify, Gilbert has been dating Liz for a long time. She knows that he has a crush on Canada and she's okay with it, but she still loves him. Awe.

Enough yammer. Enjoy!

Gilbert shuffled his feet on the front porch, not quite sure what to expect.

The moment he had heard news that Russian convoys had been sent into Ukraine, he threw his things into a suitcase and made a b-line for the airport. The last time something like this had happened, America had said that Mattie didn't eat or sleep for a week. The Canadian needed him.

…Didn't he?

Gilbert hoped so. Well, he hoped it didn't look like he was doting on the Canadian, because that was completely an un-awesome thing to do. Because it wasn't like he was in love with him, or anything. No, that was utterly ridiculous. Those soft, wheat-colored curls, those eyes so liquid and purple that you could just melt looking into them…

Gyaaa, Gilbert, what are you thinking!?

Just as Gilbert's face flushed bright red from his own fantasies, the front door swung open.

Gilbert had been expecting it to be bad, but this…

Matthew's eyes were red and puffy, from crying or from sleep deprivation, Gilbert couldn't tell. His once golden hair was the color of dead straw, sticking out as if it hadn't been combed since that morning. His skin was pale, and he was much thinner than usual. Gilbert wasn't met with the sparkling smile he always got when he visited his favorite Canadian – instead Matthew blinked up at Gilbert with a detached, lost expression. It scared him.

Somehow Gilbert managed to pull his lips into a smile. "Hey, Birdie."

Matthew blinked, then suddenly his eyes clicked into focus and his face contorted in – wait, was that anger? "What are you doing here?" He demanded, his voice cracked and shrill.

Gilbert blinked, taken aback by the hostility. "I just came by to see how you were doing. Geez, Mattie, you look a little worn out… have you been eating?"

Matthew sputtered. "Why does it matter if I've been eating? Why does it fucking matter, Gilbert, when she's practically dying out there!?"

Gilbert spread his palms. "Whoa, whoa whoa! Calm down, this isn't like you at all, Birdie – "

"Calm!" Matthew scoffed. "Calm? The world is perching on the edge of World War Three and you are telling me to be CALM!?"

"This isn't WWIII, Matt, this is just a scrimmage – "

"That's what they all say!" Matthew shouted, his eyes wild and detached. "Just a scrimmage. Well you go out there on the front lines where the streets are running with Ukrainian blood and tell me that this is just a scrimmage, Gilbert!"

"Okay, so maybe it's a little more than that. The point is that you can't get yourself worked up over this. Snow Bastard is being ambitious, it's not like our brothers are actually going to let him take over Ukraine or anything – "

"BUT THEY ARE!" Matthew shrieked, louder than Gilbert had ever heard him. Tears began to spill from those amethysts, his hands clenched into fists. "They're letting him roll right into her borders! They won't do a damn thing about it, because they're worried about getting their own people killed! THIS is what happened in WWII, THIS is why fucking Hitler was able to take control over everything in the first place, because everybody was too afraid to do anything about it! You tell me how well that works out for you, when Kat's living at her brother's house again, when she can't make her own decisions, wh-when I c-can't see her anymore a-and I won't know how she's doing…."

"Matt, Matt… you're overreacting… "

Matthew glared at him. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here to help you."

Matthew curled a lip. "If you really wanted to help me Gilbert, you would stop falling all over me, get off your lazy ass and go help Katushya."

Gilbert blinked. "Wait – what?"

Matthew's eyes burned with hatred, pain, sorrow, so much that Gilbert was sure the Canadian was lost in his own emotions and deaf to the outside world. "You heard me." His voice was quiet, but eerie and determined. "I don't want you here. I don't want anyone here, I'm fine. Katushya's the one who needs help, not me, and if you were the friend that you claim to be you would go help her because she's the one who needs it."

Gilbert's eyes widened. "Matt – "

"Go." Matthew's eyes filled with tears. "I know you won't do it, so just go home, Gilbert. And don't come back." And before Gilbert could stop him, the door was slammed shut.

He gaped, unable to believe what had just happened.

After the initial shock, Gilbert turned around, dragging his suitcase behind him, and climbed into the rental car. He took off on the roads, thinking about what Matthew had said.

It hurt him, to see the Canadian in such terrible shape. Gilbert's chest stung at those words – it was so wrong for beautiful Matthew to be so angry, so hurt. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Matthew loved Ukraine, not him, and there was probably nothing in the world that he could do to change that. But he was still the Canadian's friend – best friend, in fact, and if he was really a good friend then he would do exactly what Matthew said. Gilbert knew that it wouldn't win Matthew over. Nothing would. But he would do anything to see his Birdie smile and laugh again, even if he never got that kiss he had been dreaming about for months now.

Gilbert took a deep breath, and dialed a number on his cell.

After a few rings, an urgent voice said in German, "How'd it go?"

Gilbert sighed. "You are a fucking psychic, you know that?"

"Well you wouldn't be calling me if you were busy taking care of a depressed Canada." She said matter-of-factly, and Gilbert knew that she was right. He would never admit that, though.

"It… well let's just say it didn't go too well."

"What did he say?"

"He kind of flipped out."

"That doesn't tell me anything, Gilbert."

Gilbert let out a long sigh before saying, "Liz, I'm going to Ukraine."

There was a pause. "You're what?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but it's the only way to help Matt. He's really upset that nobody is helping her, and I would be too! I mean the whole world is kind of ignoring everything that's going on, and – "

"Gilbert, is this about winning over Canada's feelings?" She asked it in that skeptical way that meant, "Because it's not going to work."

"Look. He loves her, not me, and I'm just going to have to deal with that. But I'm still his friend, and it's wrong for me to sit back and do nothing while he starves himself!"

"And so you're going to help Ukraine so that they can be together again?" Liz sounded surprised, and the words stabbed Gilbert in the heart.

"Yes." He said, but his voice cracked and he hated that it did.

"Oh, Gilbert, that is the sweetest thing I think you've ever done! I'm so proud of you!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. So you just tell West for me, alright?"

"But aren't you coming home first?"

"Nein, can you imagine the look on West's face when I tell him I'm going to fight a bunch of Russians? He'll break me in half and tie me to the chimney to make sure I don't go anywhere!"

Gilbert could imagine Liz crossing her arms. "He'll be pissed if you go without telling him."

"He'll be fine." Gilbert lied, dreading the scene when his brother discovered what he had done. Ludwig gave him enough freedom, but he had a habit of panicking if he didn't know exactly where he was and what he was doing. Countless nights, Gilbert would be in a bar with some friends when his phone would ring, and Ludwig would demand to know where he was and when he would be back. It was understandable, after being separated for so long, but sometimes it made Gilbert feel like a little kid on a leash.

"He's going to yell my face off."

"Sorry, Liz. I just know he won't let me go, and I have to do this."

"Gil… what if Russia – "

"I'll kick him in the balls." Gilbert interjected, and Liz snorted.

"But you don't even speak Ukrainian!"

"I'm fluent in Russian, remember? It's close enough; at least I can speak that if worst comes to worst. They won't like it, but I'm going to find Katushya so she'll be my translator or whatever."

"Gilbert, you haven't spoken Russian in 25 years."

"Shut up, you."

Liz laughed. "How long will you be?"

"However long it takes. I'm just going to make sure that nothing happens to Katushya."

"Will you have your phone on you?"

"Nein, too dangerous. Snow Bastard can't find out I'm helping her, or…" Gilbert trialed off and shuddered. Since the wall came down, he had never faced Russia alone – Ludwig had always been by his side. He knew that fighting in Ukraine was extremely dangerous, since it was just like Russia to kidnap him and use him for leverage… or worse. Gilbert knew there were plenty of nations who would like to help Ukraine – Matthew, Eduard, even America had volunteered. But their bosses wouldn't let them. Russia was too unpredictable, too dangerous.

Liz sighed. "Be careful, Gil."

"I will. Tell West I don't hate him, and if I do get captured, I'll make every single Russian pay hell for it."

"I'm sure you will."

There was a long pause, and Gilbert's stomach squirmed. "Liz? You okay?"

"I love you." Her voice was small, and Gilbert wondered if she was crying.

"Fuck, Liz. I'm not going to die."

"I know."

Another pause, and Gilbert sighed. "Love you too. I'll try to write, okay?"

"Okay. Don't get killed."

Gilbert snorted. "Yeah, I'll try not to. I have to go now."

"Okay. Viszlát, Gil."

"Auf wiedersehen."

He hung up.

It was weird for a nation being told not to die, but Liz seemed to have a constant paranoia of Gilbert just fading away into the night. It was a subject she tried to avoid touching on too often, but it was always a clear sign that she thought Gilbert was doing something stupid. It was really scary, on the nights when she was overwhelmed with the fear that he was going to disappear, and she would cling to him and cry and beg him to stay. And every morning he would wake up with her honey-suckle smelling hair tangled all over the pillows, thin tanned arms latched around his waist and her head tucked underneath his chest, the sheets wet with tears.

She was the only one who seemed to realize he was on the brink of death.

Gilbert was positive that Ludwig had to know, but his brother was too much in denial to ever admit it. He had to deal with his possible death once before, and even after 25 years Ludwig wasn't ready to face that reality again. Gilbert just hoped that whenever he did die, his brother would be strong enough to overcome his grief. Germany was the most affluent country in Europe – Gilbert was confident that his brother would find some way to pull through. Maybe that's why he was doing this without telling Ludwig – the kid needed to do things on his own for a change. He needed to be ready for the day when Gilbert wouldn't be with him anymore.

There were others, too… Gilbert was pretty sure that Eddy knew he was dying. The Estonian never mentioned anything about it, but he was smart. In fact, Gilbert wouldn't be surprised if he was running private surveys to see how many Germans still considered themselves "Prussians" or East Germans. He probably had entire files filled with graphs and charts, predicting when the last memory of East Germany would pass. Gilbert smiled bitterly to himself. Eduard probably knew exactly when he was going to die.

And then there was Matthew. He was probably the most ignorant of them all. He and Gilbert had only been friends for about ten years, and their outings had never been serious enough to tackle the issue of "Oh by the way, I'm not actually a country anymore so it's just a matter of time before I disappear." Gilbert had made a point to reach out to the Canadian because nobody else saw him, and Gilbert knew what it was like to be forgotten. He wanted his time with Matthew to be awesome, not depressing, and so there had never been a reason to bring it up.

Gilbert tried not to think about death, but it seemed to always be lurking in the back of his mind. He worried about what would happen to him after he died – would he go to hell? But he also worried about the nations he would be leaving behind. Nations like Matthew, who didn't really have that many friends. But he hoped that every moment he spent with the Canadian, he was helping other nations to see. And maybe, after he's gone, they'll keep seeing, and Canada won't be invisible anymore.

Gilbert snorted to himself. Since when had he become such a saint? Was it after the wall came down, and he realized that he was still alive, that he stopped taking life for granted? Or did it start earlier, with the Holocaust? Gilbert wasn't sure. But he knew that a hundred years ago, he would NEVER walk into a fight that had nothing to do with him, without gaining anything from it.

Well, except for Mattie's smile.

Gilbert smiled to himself. Even if he did die – even if Matthew never loved him – he hoped he would get to see that beautiful smile just one more time.

"Time to put on your big boy panties, Russia," Gilbert growled. "Because Prussia is coming to give you hell."

I wanted to write this because this is my headcanon about Prussia's death. He's going to die, guys. And in my head, he's going to do it fighting a war that has nothing to do with him, all because he wants to see Canada's smile one more time. I don't know exactly how this whole Ukrainian mess will pan out, but in the giant Hetalia storyline in my head, Gilbert will die towards the end of it.

Sorry...

Thoughts? Questions? Hate-mail? (In other words...please review!)

P.S. I have posted another story on a collab account about the 1970's. Our account is called Travelbugs, come check us out! :D