When Canada got off the phone with Ludwig, he did not immediately get ready to depart and ask for his private jet to be prepared for an exodus to Germany. He couldn't. Matthew was merely frozen in place, unable to send the message from his brain to his muscles in order to complete the action. It took his full concentration to simply unclench his fingers from around his telephone so as not to break it, as his knuckles were white he was holding it so tightly. The fingers unfurled in slow motion, and they shook slightly, but the phone did slip from the Canadian's grip and he allowed it to slide onto the tan couch cushion next to him.

He tried to order himself to pick the phone back up to call his pilot and tell him to get ready to fly part way around the world, but his arm remained stationary. His thin, pale fingers remained locked in place, and his arm muscles stayed taut and unmoving. Giving up on trying to move himself to pick up the phone, he tried to reach out with telepathy. He felt the stringy, scattered strands of thought stretch out beyond his mind to try to grip the phone. Of course this method didn't work either, fore Matthew did not possess a sixth sense, but to him it was still worth a shot. He decided that even if he had been clairvoyant, his mind was too preoccupied with its own mental problems to deal with physical ones. Currently, Canada was wracking his brain trying to connect Prussia's symptoms to a disease or condition, and determine whether or not he would be okay. He hoped Gilbert would be okay…

He recollected the Prussian's behavior during his last visit along with the albino's unconscious state and began cancelling out impossibilities. After a few minutes, he realized that it would be best to go see Gilbert himself. He should get going anyway, as now Germany was expecting him. He forced himself to pick up the phone again and made the call to his plane pilot.

After the call had been made, Matthew turned to the small white bear sitting beside his foot on the floor as he stood.

"Hold down the fort while I'm gone. Okay, Kumachiri?" The white bear glanced up at him blankly.

"Who?" Canada exhaled noisily.

~After a long trip from Canada to Germany~

Canada reached Germany after several hours of flight and had groggily called for a taxi to drive to Germany's house. The cloudy weather made the visit even more dismal and he leaned his forehead against the cold glass of the car window to watch the passing grey scenery until they reached the house. After paying the taxi driver, he climbed out of the car and walked up the concrete walkway to the wooden door to Ludwig's home. He knocked firmly, but the sound that the fist striking the dark wood emitted was diminutive. After a few moments, it was opened by the burly German, who was looking straight over Canada's head for the one who knocked on his door. God, how Matthew hated being short…

"D-down here, Germany." He hated his stuttering too. He appeared to be such a weak nation to most, even though he owned the second largest united land mass in the world. The German stared down at him, comprehension refusing to flicker through his gaze. Matthew sighed softly. "It's Canada." Finally Germany recognized the small blonde boy.

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry, Canada, for not recognizing you at first. I don't usually see you too often, since you're from a different continent…" Germany smoothed back his already immaculate blonde hair, then continued, "Anyway, Bruder is in his room downstairs if you want to go see him. He hasn't moved or woken in more than 24 hours." Germany led Canada through the hallway to the kitchen, which also housed the door that went to the staircase leading to Prussia's room in the basement.

"Do you have any idea what's wrong with him?" Canada inquired.

"Nein, but Italia is still researching his symptoms." Canada walked over to Prussia's door. "Tell me if you need anything, Canada." Matthew turned to smile warmly at Ludwig.

"Merci, Germany. I will." With that, Canada slipped through the doorway and quietly made his way into Prussia's room.

Gilbert's room was filled with dark colors, and his pale skin and silver hair contrasted starkly against his black comforter. Canada pulled a nearby chair closer to his bed and sat down, staring into Gilbert's calm face. When he was asleep, Prussia looked absolutely beautiful to Canada.

Matthew took the silver haired man's hand that lay nearby him and flipped it over to see the blue veins standing out on his wrist. He traced the azure marks with his finger. Although the Prussian's hands were cold, Canada could still feel the faint pulsation through the nearly translucent skin. Only one thought was able to pass through Canada's mind.

What is wrong with Gilbert?

Canada continued to stroke Prussia's wrist as he sat, deep in thought. While he considered different illnesses, Matthew's eyes traveled up the albino's sculpted chest to his flawless face. His eyelids were a purple color, and his white eyelashes swept out gracefully. His lips had the faintest tint of pink to them, but were still extremely pale along with the rest of his skin. Prussia was so beautiful, and so perfect looking as he slept… How could anyone want him to disappear? Matthew most certainly did not want Prussia to die.

The blonde haired Canadian turned away when he heard someone coming downstairs.

"Canada, Italy is back. He thinks he knows what is wrong with Bruder." The German made his way downstairs, followed by an unusually somber Italian.

"Sì… I believe so." Italy looked up, allowing his golden eyes to meet Canada's purple ones. "I haven't told Germany yet. I thought I should tell you both at once." Canada's brow furrowed in concern.

"So, what's the verdict?" Matthew asked. Italy paused, taking a deep breath.

"I don't know how to tell you this…"

"Just tell us, Feliciano," Germany recommended firmly. Italy swallowed thickly, then cleared his throat and whispered hoarsely,

"Gil… He… I'm sorry you two, but it seems to me that Gilbert has fallen into a coma."