IM SO SORRY! this is taking me forever to update... actually it is doing so much better then my other story hahaha.

I just have to feel really sad to be able to wrote this story and i wasn't for a while there... but a lot of shit happened and I'm crying a lot so i was able to wrote another chapter LOL yay~~!

Well I also updated as soon as i could because a lovely fan messaged me and we had a very lovely conversation which spurred me to write another chapter! so Thanks to North13 for kicking my butt in gear!

And thanks to all for your reviews... I actually cried from them! they are all so amazing!

Thank you Glory of Lorien! I am so happy you felt that! it is what i was thriving for when i wrote the Protective!Kuma scene!

OMG I JUST CANT BEGIN TO THANK YOU ALL!

THANK ALL OF THE 48 followers! AND 39 favourites! Also to all the people who have reviewed the 23 times! Ilove you all!

And im sorry i'm making you all wait for the updates! well alas! on with the story!

Disclaimer! i own nothing!

pls R&R and enjoy the read!


It had been six hours since the arrival of America.

And he was still glued to Canada's side. He hadn't moved an inch, and it was starting to irk some of the nations, more specifically England. The bloke wouldn't leave... he just sat there, with his arms folded resting against the bed, head bent in defeat. The epitome of misery.

Between the deafening sobs, France had gotten a call. The idiot hadn't wanted to answer but upon England's persistence he folded. Which had been a remarkable idea. When Arthur closed his eyes he could still see the look on the blonde's face... it was blank as if he was so surprised he couldn't even form an expression. Before a cacophony of sounds bombarded their eardrums through the phone and France had switched to his native tongue... cursing and sputtering before the line went dead. He was crying even harder... if so was possible.

France was so frazzled he had forgotten England couldn't fluently speak his language and jumped at the man. In a flow of foreign words, Francis had grabbed hold of the shorter man pulling him off in an unknown direction. Arthur being the composed well bred Englishman he was, did not take well to being dragged off by a screaming French man. Doing what any rational man would do... he smacked the blonde upside the head and screeched at him to speak English.

"Angleterre!" tears continued to pool in oceanic eyes. "Mathieu! He has been found!"

Without a second thought, France had turned and hurried off to their current destination. Thinking back Arthur truly did feel bed for smacking the fool... but if he had acted like any other human being and not so bloody... French, he wouldn't of had too.

Looking down at his lap said Frenchman's head lay heavily upon it, curly strands cascading down his cheek. Eyes still puffy from the never-ending parade of tears that had fallen. He had cried himself to sleep forty minutes ago.

A knock was heard and England turned his head to smile weakly as Italy poked his head in, a tray of steaming buns and tea held firmly in his hands. With deathly quiet feet Feliciano set the tray down on the small antique table, pouring a cup for Arthur. Taking a seat with his own tea, Feli smiled sadly at the silent American across the room.

"Has he been like that the entire time?"

"Yeah" releasing the bent up anguish in a breath Arthur turned to stare back at the miserable blonde. "...he doesn't feel like him... I know it's Matthew but at the same time he's not... you know? It's like I sense this aura permeating from him... it's pure agony."

"I can feel it too." Italy set his cup down and pulled himself to his feet, steadily walking over to the comatose boy's bedside. Stopping beside the still mute Alfred.

Placing a hand a top Alfred he gently patted it, loving strokes meant to sooth.

"Dio capisco... God how I understand." chuckling humorlessly Feliciano wiped at the tears forming in his eyes. "I know how it feels to lose a loved one... It's like a dagger to your heart... waiting on the strings of a promise that you know was broken. Yet still being able to see that string dangling in front of your eyes... a beacon in the night. Just out of one's reach. A hope that someday you'll see that person again. And when you finally meet...you realize it is just an outer shell. That once familiarity is gone... the entire being inside is gone, replaced by another. But there it is... that tantalizing string. You tell yourself maybe they are down deep inside... shards of the old somewhere... and you'll never know because that string is too far.. you just pray one day you'll take hold of that string..and they'll come back."

"Feliciano..."

Italy stood rigid. Shoulders shaking from suppressed sobs as the tears flowed a heavy river down his face.

"Italie.."

The brunettes head turned to star brokenly at the french man as he pulled himself to his feet, untangling himself from England's lap. He opened his arms and enveloped the crying man in his arms.

"We won't let what happened to Holy Rome happen to Matthew... we know better now... we have had centuries to mature... we know now."

"I know... Matteo please stop hurting yourself... and live for those around you."

Italy thanked the taller man and excused himself from the room, leaving the 'family' alone once again.

"Papa swears to you... I will not let that happen." Fist clenched France bowed his head, biting his lip until pearls of blood rolled down his chin. "You will not become of what he did..."

"Francis." Arms wrapped themselves around the Frenchman's torso. "we will help him... he will get better. Look his colour is already coming back... The IV is sure helping. H-"

With a fatal squeeze of Francis's hand, Arthur broke. Finally allowing his sorrows spill force. He vaguely felt France shift him into his arms. He was led to the bed and urged to sit down. Arthur watched in a cloudy gloom as France bent down and lifted Alfred up, grunting from the process. Gently laying him upon the bed right next to his unconscious twin, tucking him in as if he was young again. Once the boy was all tucked in he turned back to Arthur and kissed his forehead, pulling him back into his arms. Where the two returned to the couch.

Allowing themselves to comfort.

Arms bound together.

Heads bowed.

Tears shed.

Until spent, they fell asleep wrapped in each others arms. Entwined like the red strings that connected their hearts.


It was hot.

Way to hot...

He was cold when he had fallen asleep. Uncomfortable and cold.

Eyes twitched as they began their journey to opening. Blinking blue hues squinted, staring at a pale white ceiling. Which shouldn't be what he is looking at. Suddenly a puff of warm air ghosted across his face. Turning his face, eyes softened at the slumbering blonde beside him.

Canada.

His twin.

Brother.

Love.

Reaching a hand up he ran his fingers through the slightly curled hair, relishing in the familiar feel of it. The sensation that he missed so much.

They were back together.

Where he was meant to be. Twins weren't meant to be separated. It just wasn't right.

Happily humming Alfred, as carefully as he could, wrapped his arms around the thin frame beside him, bring him to his chest.

What sounded like a purr vibrated through Matthew's chest as he eagerly snuggled into Alfred's warm. This was how it was meant to be. Like it was before, just Mattie and him cuddling until the sun rose high in the sky, before they both would roll out of bed laughing and complaining about how lazy they had been. Matthew would have gotten up and made some delicious breakfast where they would sit together and just enjoy each other.

He prayed to whatever god or divine being may be up there that Matthew would return to him... to everyone.

This time he wouldn't make the same mistake... Matthew would be loved... by everyone. Never to feel alone again. Not if he had anything to do with it. No they will fix it all together.

He still didn't fully understand what the others had meant when they said Matthew had blamed them for his deaths... it had to be someone doing this to him. Right? He couldn't possible be doing this to himself...

because if he was America was going to die as well.

Guilt already ate at his soul... but knowing that they had caused Matthew to snap would destroy him. Yet he already knew the answer.

The twin connection.

Now being in such close proximity to him he could feel it... the internal anguish that flowed from his brother like a raging river of doom... a jagged rock ridden waterfall.

"Canada... I command you to awaken." The squeaky voice echoed through the silent room.

And Matthew's body twitched in Alfred's arms before he suddenly bolted into a sitting position. Knocking Alfred in the face with his elbow.


Matthew's body jerked suddenly and he bolted upright. Coughing and clutching at his throat. Red rimmed eyes bouncing throughout the room finally landing on the blonde man beside him. In a smooth deathly precise action that left no room for judgement Matthew was on top of Alfred, thin bone-bare hands clutching the American's throat.

In blind panic Matthew continued to choke the man.

He couldn't remember where he was.

Who this was.

AND WHY THE FUCK HE SURVIVED AGAIN.

Maybe since he couldn't die this person could.

A sharp pain laced through his butt as the feeling of canines penetrated skin. Throwing himself back he landed on whatever had bitten him. Hearing a pained yelp, he scrambled away pulling the blankets with him as he stumbled to the floor.

"Mattie!"

Everything froze.

It all came back to him. Waking up in this hotel. Speaking with the European countries as they worriedly asked him questions. Then he had died again.

Why couldn't he remember it before... unless.

"Matthew?"

No. Not that voice. Not this man.

Like a knife burning flesh, it all came back. Everything.

Alfred F. Jones.

His twin.

America.

The United States of America.

He was Canada. He loved this man, along with his two fathers. His friends... how the northern lights looked in the winter sky. How diverse his landscape was. He loved everything that described him. He loved Canada. He was Canada. Matthew Williams.

With just a spoken word from this man he had broken the chains Canada had tried so hard to build. It had worked for so long.. so well.

The man he left Kuma with-

Scrambling to his feet Matthew stumbled back to the bed ignoring the American freaking out beside him. His body was shaking in uncontrollable tremors. His breath was coming out in gasps, barely breathing puffs.

Pulling a blanket away, he stopped.

There in all his round plush glory was his best friend.

His other half.

What made him complete.

"KUMA!"

It was as if none of this every happened. As soon as the two touched, the pain seemed to dim.

He cried. Those these tears were from happiness.

"Mat-Matt!" The bear could hardly get his words out as he cried into his masters arms. They were final whole.

Alfred waited until both had calmed down. Albeit Mattie continued to shake. While the two had wept in each others arms for a good twenty minutes America took the time to realize that their dad's weren't in the room. Turning back to the splendid scene that had been in front of him he frowned.

Matthew held Kumajirou close to his chest as he stared wide eyed at America. It unnerved the man. His usual beautifully deep sunset purple eyes seemed dull and void.

"I know you know. I may remember everything now but..." The voice sounded ghastly. Like a smoker who smoked three packs a day for eighty years and had two throat surgeries. "There is no way you can stop me. I will die, Al."

"Is that a challenge?"

"No... it's a fact."

Alfred hummed in mock understanding. Scooting closer he pulled the Canadian into his arms, wrapping his arms all the way around his small frame, placing his hands on Kuma's soft paws.

"We I'll just have to prove you wrong."

"Yeah... your the hero." Sarcasm laid heavy with each word.

"No Mattie... Kuma is going to be your hero." The half-dead blonde shot him a confused look as he turned himself in Alfred's arms, pulling out so he sat in front of the blonde. "You proved that with your reaction to him.. he is everything to you. You can't possible leave him."

Anger clouded the younger man's face, ripping out of arms reach he rolled away. Now standing at the end of the bed, leaning against it for much needed support. Grabbing the IV needle He tore it up the length of his arm.

Continuously raking it up and down. Blood began to pour from the large forming wound as the skin pealed back, chunks falling to the floor as Matthew picked up the pace. If he continued he would surely be at the bone soon.

Alfred sat in complete shock as he watched Matthew brutalize himself.

But just as he was about to jump at the blonde to make him stop. Kuma was faster. Leaping at his master, he used his weight to pin the man to the floor both falling with a huff. Using his hind lefts Kuma kept the arm with the needle kept away from his body, while his stomach stretched across Matthew's torso.

Muttering some ancient sounding language, Kuma began licking the wound and with every stroke of his tongue the wound healed.

"How did you do that?" Alfred stuttered out.

"Matthew is mine. I have always healed his wounds this way."

Matthew continued to struggle under the plump bears body. Glaring with malicious intent at the blonde still sitting on the bed.

"So you still want to continue with this challenge? Because with what fluffy just showed me... I doubt you will ever get far."


Well Alas here we are!

I will try to update faster! it's just im busy! a full time student at uni and work part time... also i like to drink too much so i tend to party! le sigh!

either or if you get too pissed at me message me and kick my butt in gear... it will make me feel guilty which in result will make me update faster hahaha!

as always~! LOVE Y'ALL!

SEE YA NEXT TIME (I update :P )!