Date: Approximately three and a half months after war is declared on Canada by the Americans
Location: Just outside the America-Canada border, Canadian side, approximately 50 miles into a surrounding forest.
Matthew's breath was seen as he panted harshly, trying to catch his breath as he ran through the forest before him, not waiting for Ivan to try to catch up to him. He stumbled a bit as he attempted to race faster than his legs would allow, pistol held tightly in his hand. Someone had tipped off the Canadians of a base just on the other side of a stream, a stream that Matthew knew very well, and he hadn't hesitated before he grabbed his gun and took off, leaving Ivan and the other soldiers shouting after him.
It had been about three and a half months since the war had been declared between America and Canada, and it had already turned into a sheer bloodbath. Both of the brothers were stubborn as hell, and neither was planning on giving in anytime soon. They had already lost a great deal of soldiers, and both sides were suffering dearly, but there was to be no stopping, no breaks; there would be a victor, and Matthew would be damned if it was going to be Alfred.
He was still panting harshly as he ripped through the woods, eyes scanning everything that could be scanned. Finally, just barely out of the corner of his eye, Matthew caught a movement, and was barely able to jump out of the way of a speeding bullet. His chest met the ground first, all of his breath abandoning him as he stared up at a pair of sky-blue eyes, which had lost their glorious luster. Matthew's eyes were just as dark, no longer himself so much as he was now his other self, his darker self.
"…Alfred." Matthew's voice was cold and hard as he stared at his twin brother with such hatred, though Alfred was not phased, his expression matching Matthew's. In such a swift moment, one that took the inability to blink, both brothers were on their feet, Matthew's gun pointed to Alfred's head, Alfred's to Matthew's throat, both ready to pull the trigger at any given second. So this is what it had come down to; two brothers pointing a gun at one another, ready to kill each other for the sake of winning. But that's how wars went, wasn't it? There's no such thing as brotherhood in war, Alfred learned that the hard way during the Civil War. It had only seemed like yesterday the two of them were telling each other everything, and now, they were about to blow each other's heads off.
"Well, well Mattie, my boss was right. You've certainly got quite the fight in you; managing to keep up with someone like me. I've got to admit, I didn't expect you to last this long." Alfred's eyes were playful for a moment, mocking his younger brother, but Matthew only scoffed, making Alfred's temper flare slightly.
"You know, big brother, I was terrified to fight you at first…I sympathized for your situation, both financially and emotionally…But now I know. I've seen your true colors once again. Burning my capitol to the ground, for the second fucking time, bombing my citizens…" Matthew shook his head in fury, clicking the safety off his gun. His eyes didn't so much as flicker when he thought he saw either fear or betrayal flash through Alfred's eyes, even if it was only for a second. Matthew had nothing to be sorry for, this was Alfred's doing, and he would pay for it, but somewhere deep within the recesses of his heart, his true nature was trying desperately to get out, to make the horrid monster that had consumed him stop.
"You wouldn't really pull that trigger; it's not in your nature." Matthew's eyes flashed darkly and dangerously, pressing the barrel of the gun to Alfred's skin, and a terrifying smile crossed his lips when he heard the sharp intake of breath produced by his brother. Matthew was so focused on proving Alfred wrong, he failed to notice the soldier that had appeared from behind, and it was only when the sharp pain racked his head that he finally realized the American soldiers had shown themselves. He felt the blood trickle from the back of his head from where the butt of the soldier's gun had made contact with his skull, and he felt woozy. Matthew was suddenly outnumbered and was too dizzy to try and take a shot. "Ah, my dearest Mattie, did you really think I'd fight fairly in all of this?" Alfred wrapped his fingers around his brother's slender neck, and hoisted him into the air.
"Y-You…You son of a bitch!" Matthew thrashed around, trying to free himself from Alfred's grip. It was futile, and as Alfred's fingers grew tighter, to the point where Matthew could no longer get adequate oxygen into his lungs, he realized how futile it was. He raised his gun to Alfred's head, barely even conscious as he attempted to outdo his brother, and he finally noticed something he hadn't, something that the real Matthew would have noticed right off the bat. Alfred was crying.
.:.
Date: Three days after America declares war on Canada.
Matthew sat on the old porch swing that he'd had for as long as he could remember. It was freezing out, quite literally, and he shivered as he watched the snow fall. He hadn't heard from Ivan for two days, and admittedly, he was getting incredibly worried, but he decided to just let things run their course. His cell phone sat on the small table next to the swing, waiting for the call that would ensure Ivan was okay, but it never came, and Matthew merely sighed and laid down on the swing.
When he had awoken a few mornings earlier, Ivan was gone and Matthew was all alone. He had almost immediately called Ivan, but got no answer, and hadn't gotten an answer since. Matthew continued to watch the snow fall until his vision blurred and his eyes crossed. His eyelids fluttered closed and his body relaxed, not caring about the dangers of falling asleep out in the snow; he was simply too exhausted and had too much on his mind to care.
And even if Matthew simply didn't care, someone else did, and that someone would not let Matthew freeze to death because of his stubborn ways. Ivan appeared from the forest that surrounded Matthew's second house, and made his way up the steps of the Canadian's porch, kneeling beside him. His large hand swept through the knotted, blonde locks, and the owner of such hair let out a small and happy sigh. Ivan looped his arms under the small Canadian and brought him inside, gently laying him on the couch in the living room. He sighed when he saw the state of the house, regretting having left the other day.
"Mattvey, what have you done here…" It wasn't a question so much as an observation as he looked around the house. Broken glass filled most of the little tables, a few broken pictures here and there. Ivan began to clean up, taking over an hour to get just the glass out of the living room. When he came back, Matthew was curled tightly in a ball, clutching his arms and shivering. There were two things Ivan noticed: 1. Matthew's knuckles as well as parts of his arms were bleeding, and 2. a blanket had been draped over him. Ivan tensed, head whipping around the room as he reached for his pistol.
"Calm down, I will do him no harm." Arthur's voice rang out from the kitchen just behind Ivan. He spun quickly, pistol in his hand and cocked, ready to shoot, but relaxed when he saw it was only Arthur.
"What are you doing here?" Ivan completely meant to sound as hostile as he did as he eyed the blonde nation suspiciously. There was something about Arthur's presence that really put Ivan at unease, and for quite a few minutes, the two sat glaring daggers at each other.
"I think I'm entitled to visit my son, Braginski. The real question is: why is there suddenly a war between America and Canada, suspiciously after YOU come into Matthew's life." Arthur's voice was cold as he made his comment as accusingly as possible. Ivan's anger got the best of him and he grabbed Arthur by the collar, jerking him forward until their faces were just inches apart.
"Watch your tongue Kirkland, before I cut it from that pretty little mouth of yours." Ivan growled furiously. Arthur attempted to hide the fear within him, but clearly failed when he saw the smirk that cracked along Ivan's mouth. "That's better; you're much better when you keep your mouth shut~" He teased. The soft moan that came from the couch made both of them stop and pull sharply away from each other. Matthew was stretching his back, toes curling happily as he awoke. His violet eyes fluttered open and he gasped, sitting up straight and jumping when he saw the two older countries.
"F-Father, Vanya, what are you two doing here?" Matthew scrambled to his feet and looked between the two old nations quizzically. Arthur dusted off his uniform and sneered at Matthew, causing the young Canadian to flinch and turn away.
"I'm here to find out what the hell is going on between you and Alfred. A war? Are you out of your bloody little mind?" Arthur shouted, causing Matthew to cower away.
"W-Wait a second….Y-You think I started this? Arthur, this is a-all Alfred's fault! It was his bomb that a-attacked me! It was his boss that declared war, not mine!" Matthew cried, feeling like Arthur had stabbed him in the chest. Arthur merely rolled his eyes and turned for the door.
"I'm not going to tolerate much more of this from you Matthew. Fix it, or Francis and I will." Arthur swung the door open, but not before Matthew lunged for him. A pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around Matthew's form, holding him back from a startled Arthur. The British man let out a small gasp when he saw the look of pure hatred in Matthew's now dark eyes, as though something had snapped. Arthur gulped and stumbled out, slamming the door behind him. Matthew glared at the floor, Ivan's arms still wrapped tightly around him.
"Mattvey, I'm so sor-.." Matthew cut him off by shaking his head and pulling out of his grasp. Ivan's arms dangled at his side as Matthew did anything to keep his mind preoccupied; pick up around the house, dust, anything. Just as quickly and abruptly as he started though, he stopped, lurched over a small table in the hallway. The two of them sat in silence for what seemed like eternity, Ivan watching him with semi-saddened eyes and feeling like he had no right to say anything. He let out an almost silent gasp, lips parted slightly and arm extending towards Matthew as the smaller nation started to tremble, seeing the tears fall from his flawless face. Ivan lunged for the other when Matthew's knees buckled below him and he collapsed, the tall Russian catching him just before his body met the floor.
"Mattvey…" He whispered softly as he held the Canadian against himself. He leaned against the wall opposite the small table and rocked with Matthew, whispering sweet Russian words into the blonde locks that belonged to his young lover. "I'm so sorry Mattvey. Arthur is a moron, he doesn't know anything. You are the most wonderful person I've ever met, and if those inferior assholes can't see that, then to hell with them; they don't deserve to have you." He removed his black gloves and wiped away the tears that seemed to endlessly pour down Matthew's face.
"Why did you leave me…?" Matthew's voice cracked, and Ivan had to strain to hear it due to the very low and quiet volume it took on. Ivan sighed as he brushed the golden-wheat hair off of Matthew's pale face.
"It wasn't my choice, Мой подсолнечника…I had to return home for a bit to set up some things…" He kissed the top of Matthew's head. "I had every intent on returning, but I had to make sure it was alright if I stayed with you…I-It is alright, da?" Ivan asked softly, words somewhat muffled against Matthew's hair. He tensed when the small country gave no reply, but relaxed again when he heard the faint sound of deep breathing that accompanied sleep. He sighed and stood, carrying the small nation upstairs and laying him on the bed, starting to work on the cuts that littered his arms, most likely from all the broken glass from earlier. "Mattvey…" He sighed and watched him sleep, never leaving his side and never letting his hand go.
.:.
Matthew's eyes fluttered open and he hissed, immediately closing them again. The light was too intense for him to handle as his head throbbed. He felt two strong hands grasp his tighter, and he opened his eyes again. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face as he looked over at Ivan, who was fast asleep in a chair beside the bed, face buried in the sheets, and his hands holding tightly to Matthew's. His eyelids became heavy again, and before he knew it, he was fast asleep once again, the throbbing behind his head halting for the moment.
.:.
Date: Approximately three and a half months after war is declared on Canada by the Americans
Location: Just outside the America-Canada border, Canadian side, approximately 48 miles into a surrounding forest.
"Alfred…Y-You're so weak…" Matthew struggled to speak as everything started to go black around him. Involuntarily, he wiped away the tear that was making its descent down his brother's cheek, emitting a gasp from the older twin.
"Sh-Shut up! You're the weak one, not me!" Alfred growled, tightening his hold on Matthew's throat. Matthew tried again to squirm free, but as the world started to spin and he started to slip unconscious, he stopped. His finger wrapped around the trigger of his gun, no longer knowing where it was pointing, and collapsed to the ground, a ringing and screaming filling his ears. He gasped; inhaling the much needed air, and began to cough harshly, not sure what had happened. His eyes drifted open, but he was very disoriented; the only thing that registered was that he was covered in blood, and beside him, his brother was bleeding out beside him.
"…A-Alfred…?" Matthew sat up, blinking in confusion as he stared at his brother. Where the hell was he? What had happened? It was then his memory came crashing back at him, and he gasped, tears automatically filling his eyes. "No…" He struggled to crawl over to his brother, but once there, he picked up his head and held him tightly. "Oh god…Alfred, I'm so sorry…" He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he pressed their foreheads together, tears dripping onto his brother's pale face. "Open your eyes…please big brother, open your eyes!" He cried, hand trembling as it caressed Alfred's cold cheeks. He let out a small gasp as movement flickered beneath Alfred's eyelids.
"Mattie…?" Alfred groaned, struggling to open his heavy eyelids. When he finally managed to get them open, he smiled sadly. "H-Hey, no tears soldier, y-you're not supposed to cry for your enemy." He let out a soft chuckle, groaning in pain, making Matthew cry harder. Alfred frowned and raised a trembling hand to wipe the tears away. "Your eyes are back to normal Mattie." He smiled softly again, bringing Matthew's head forward and pressing a soft kiss to his brother's temple.
"Y-Yours are too…Alfred, I'm so sorry…" Matthew's lip quivered, and he gasped when Alfred's body started to become transparent. "A-Alfred…? A-Alfred, no! You can't leave yet, please!" Matthew begged as Alfred's baby blues closed, a smile still plastered on his face.
"I love you Mattie, I hope you know that…Even though we've been fighting, I hope you know that you'll always be my brother…I'll always love you…" Alfred's voice drifted off at the end as his body fully dissolved in Matthew's arms.
"No…" Matthew's eyes were wide in horror as he started to shake his head frantically. "No…! No, no, no, no, no!" Matthew cried out, burying his face in his palms as his fingers pulled at his blonde hair. He could hear the footsteps near him, but he didn't care whose they were. His brother was dead because of him, this was the only thing going through his head. The United States of America had fallen.
A/N: Forgive my lack of updating; I've been going through hell trying to get my grades up. But I hope this somewhat makes up for it…no? Okay…
Translations:
Мой подсолнечника- My sunflower (Russian)