"Vhat vas that, Amerika?" All eyes turned to the blond and he slowly looked back from the window.

"Where's Mattie?" America asked, looking around almost frantically. "I-I forgot about him. Where is he?"

"Who?" England looked at him. "Who's 'Mattie', lad?"

"Mathew!" He stared at England. "Damn it, where's Canada?!"

They all stared at him in silence for a long moment before exchanging confused glances about the table. Canada? Who was that?

America growled and slammed his hands on the table, standing up. "Has anybody seen Canada?!" He demanded and scowled as he only got more confused looks. "How long has it been?" He turned and stalked to the window, staring out into the thickening flakes. "How long have we forgotten…..?" He whispered and leaned his forehead against the cold pane.

England stood and moved beside the taller nation, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "Who is Canada, Alfred?" He asked softly.

"Mattie. Matthew Williams. My god damn twin brother." Alfred growled.

England paused a long moment, confusion on his face. He then paled as it clicked. The little violet eyed child that always had the strange bear. "Good god." He whispered. "It…..it can't be. How is he still alive?! That place has been nothing but ice for centuries!"

The other nations watched this interaction in silence until it was broken by Russia.

"Ice? Ice is good, Да?" He smiled in his creepy way, making the nations around him to withdraw slightly.

America shot a furious glare in his direction before England tightened his hand in a restraining manner.

"We don't have time for this, lad." He said gently, doing his best to not do the same.

France stood making his way over. "Angleterre, who iz Canada?" He looked at them both.

They looked at him a moment and then both let their eyes wander the room, meeting each one.

"Someone we gotta save." America shrugged of Englands hand, turning to look out the window again. "Let's just hope it isn't too late."

~o0o~

General Winter paced restlessly, waiting for his moment to come. "Hurry, hurry." He muttered to himself. "So close to the end. So close." He stopped his pacing in front of his longtime captive. He crouched, brushing a few rogue strands from the pale face of the nation laying before him, head pillowed by ice and body blanketed by soft snow. "Soon it will be mine, pet." He crooned. "Just stay sleeping for a little longer. Just a little longer."

~o0o~

America finished tightening his scarf around his neck, determination in each movement he made. He looked at those who would travel with them and nodded with satisfaction. At least they were going to help. Germany met his eyes and gave him a tight nod, straightening his coat with warmly gloved hands. They had all talked it out and it was decided that the search group to go into the arctic waste that once was Canada would only be those would would have at least a slim chance of surviving. America, of course, Germany, England, and to America's grudging acceptance, Russia (it had taken much convincing by England). The nations that weren't going stood around them, most still confused on who exactly Canada was, but they at least had France to explain now that he'd remembered as well.

America accepted a pack stuffed with supplies that wouldn't freeze to the point of inedibility. The other three were handed such packs as well. America shifted restlessly, wanting to leave as soon as possible in order to rescue his twin. Cause that's what hero's did, right?

"Ready?" He asked the others and was already opening the door at their nods. "Good. Let's go save my brother." He said, stepping out into the snow and heading towards the snowmobiles that would carry them as far as they could across the border before gas ran out. America silently hoped that it would be enough.