Prussia sat in Canada's living room, playing his flute for him. Canada sat peacefully, smiling at the beautiful music. The rest of the family listened too, much to Prussia's annoyance. Oliver worked on a knitted blanket while Al fiddled with his DS. Francis sat next to Canada, playing with his son's hair.
The song ended and the family clapped. Gilbert packing up his flute and motioning Canada to follow him in the next room. Matthew stood up and followed the older country into the kitchen.
"Whatever you can say to him, you can say to us." Oliver pointed.
Prussia snarled back and whispered to Canada, "Are you ok?"
Canada looked at the floor and twiddled his fingers.
"I'll be fine. It's just going to take a while to getting used too."
"They should be locked up in an asylum."
Al stood up and threw his bat over his shoulder.
"We haven't done anything bad yet."
Prussia strutted up to the American close enough to feel each other's breath.
"If you lay a single finger on him, I will end you."
America laughed and stepped back, "He's my brother. I wouldn't hurt him. Not too hard."
At those words, Gilbert pushed the American back onto the living room table. Al's baseball bat falling out of his hand. Francis stood up and jumped on top of Prussia, pinning him onto the ground. America heaving back up and dragging his bat across the carpet floor, lifting it up and aiming at the Prussian's head.
"No!"
Canada pulled the bat away. One of the rusty nails digging into his skin. Francis and Al immediately stepped back and Gilbert jumped up to see Matthew's wound.
Oliver still sat in his armchair, twirling the knitting needles around and around, catching the yarn and making new loops.
"Well, that was exciting wasn't it chaps?"
England put down his work and softly pranced to the small crowd.
Prussia looked at Canada's thumb. Part of the skin was falling off, blood dribbled out onto the floor. Al rushed into the bathroom to get the first aid kit while Francis sat back onto the couch and poured himself a shot of Brandy.
"Verdammt. I'm so sorry, Canada. I shouldn't have attacked Francis. Are you ok?"
Canada winced as Prussia looked at the cut.
"I'll be alright. I just need to clean it. May have to go get a tetanus shot."
Oliver smiled as Al ran in. England took out alcohol and bandages and took care of Matthew's wound. Prussia fearfully watching over them. Protecting Canada as much as he could.
Al pulled on his bomber jacket and grabbed his car keys.
"I'll take him to the hospital."
Gilbert ripped the keys out of his hands and turned back to Canada.
"America, you've done enough already. I'll take him."
Al scrunched up his nose and stuck his tongue out at him, and left to go into the basement where he had been sleeping in the past few weeks.
...
Canada came back home from the hospital alone. Prussia had left to go back to Germany's house until the next visit.
The house was quiet. Matthew thinking that since it's nighttime, they must all be asleep. Except for Francis who was probably staying out at another bar again.
Canada went to the freezer and made a bowl of ice cream. Thinking that he deserved a treat after what happened. Just as he was sitting on the couch, the front door opened and the other three nations appeared. Oliver's bright pink vest was covered in splatters of blood. Behind him, Al was dragging his baseball bat along. Some of the nails had been bent over, blood covering the top of the bat. And what seemed like ripped flesh tore at the nails. Then following those two, Francis was trudging along. His white button up shirt falling over his shoulders. He looked the cleanest out of the three. A gun hung low on its holster around his waist.
Matthew jumped off the couch and backed up into the TV.
"Mattie darling, don't be scared. We were just off doing some adult work," Oliver smiled and waved his knife around, "Oh, maybe we should clean up. We wouldn't want to frighten you too badly, hehe."
America and France headed upstairs to wash up. Oliver strolled to Canada who was backing into the corner.
"Matthew, I'm sorry we left without you. You can join us next time."
Canada stood frightened, stuttering his words, "No... What did you do? I trusted you!"
The Canadian burst out into tears, blocking himself with a nearby lamp. Doubting that it will even work against England's knife.
"This is who we are now. Do you not accept that? Well... Here we were thinking that you might join us. We could be a happy family again. Don't you want that?"
"YOU WERE DEAD! You were all dead! It was all your fault! Do you know how it felt to see my brother and father's dead bodies? Do you know how it felt to put a gun to your head? No. You don't! I had nightmares. You ruined me! Ever since then, you all have been different. I hate it. I'm scared."
Canada swung the lamp at Oliver's head. England ducked and threw the lamp out of Canada's hands.
"That's the past, Matthew. If you can't accept who we are now then you'll be forced too."