xxxxx
Twenty-Four Hours Later...
xxxxx
Gilbert thought he was prepared for anything. Only the awesomeness known as Prussia could be so thoroughly prepared for what he believed to be a trans-Atlantic search and rescue mission. Sure, the 'mission' didn't require any special equipment, but it did require a certain sort of awesomeness that the Prussian was quite certain he possessed. Certainly he and his awesomeness alone were prepared for anything this trip could throw at him.
Anything... Except the storm that delayed his flight until tomorrow.
Currently the albino was pacing across the terminal, fuming quietly to himself with Gilbird orbiting his head. Ludwig and Feliciano sat on some nearby chairs, with the former of the two reading a book.
Italy watched their companion stomp back and forth, "Ve, what is Prussia doing?"
The blonde looked to his brother for a second, merely shaking his head and muttering, "Impatient as ever..." Before returning to his book. Germany was rather irritated that the Prussian was behaving in such a manner, and even more irritated by the fact that they had to stay at the airport overnight because Gilbert refused to leave, and judging by Italy's increasing boredom and annoyance it wasn't going to get much better.
The brunette fidgeted in his chair, "Uh, Ludwig...?"
"Vhat?" The question came out sharper than intended. He looked up to see Prussia harassing another member of the ground staff.
The poor man seemed exasperated by the albino, "I'm sorry sir, but all flights have been grounded until the storm passes through!"
Gilbert was about to complain some more about the lack of awesomeness, but his brother grabbed him by the back of his jacket and dragged him away, mumbling an apology to the other man. Germany all but slammed his brother down into a chair, "Vill you knock it off?!" He let out an angry huff, "Don't you think you're vorrying a little too much about this?"
The Prussian glared at his brother and folded his arms, becoming uncharacteristically quiet. Of the many things he did not like, waiting was the chiefest of them, "I still don't understand why you two are coming with me."
Germany sighed, "Because Feli vants to und I vant to make sure you don't do anything stupid." He then added, "Und even if I vasn't going for your sake I'd still go for Feli's. Plus you need all the help you can get..."
Red eyes glared at his brother, demanding to know what he meant by that.
Another sigh, "You vant to find a single person in a city vith a population of over eight hundred thousand vhen you have never been to this city before, have no idea vhere this person lives, and you probably couldn't communicate vith the locals if your life depended on it."
"I could too!"
The younger German brother rolled his eyes, "A little over a third of Ottawa's population speaks French, if your friend is even there."
"He has to be there! Every nation had at least one home in his capitol!"
"And if he's not?" Ludwig turned a page in his book.
"He will!"
"Vhy are you so confident about that?"
"Because I know him!" Prussia growled, "He's actually been pretty homesick for a while; I'm sure he jumped at the awesome opportunity to get away from Francis!" The blonde's expression darkened at the name.
Italy, curious, asked, "Ve, have you talked to him lately?"
Gilbert shook his head, his face expressing disgust, "Of course not! And as far as I know he's been out of contact with everyone since the meeting."
"Good," Germany stated before muttering a few choice words under his breath.
Italy was silent for several long moments, deeply contemplating something. Finally he whispered, "Ve... It wasn't his fault."
The two brothers stared at the Italian incredulously; it was as if they had just heard the man decline pasta. Germany's eyes narrowed as Prussia shouted, "What?!"
Feliciano was one who saw things simply, he couldn't bring himself to hate anyone, regardless of what had happened in the past, he took a deep breath before explaining himself, "Sure... I regret what happened that night and I don't plan on going anywhere near France for a while... But it... It wasn't entirely his fault!" A strain of guilt entered his voice, "Ve, I was the one who said his wine was bad... And he just wanted to prove me wrong..." He spoke faster, nervously picking at a piece of lint on his shirt, "Then we stared drinking and then Romano said he could drink more than Francis and I didn't want to be left out so then it became a contest..." He covered his face in shame, "We were so drunk... We all made mistakes." He placed his hands in his lap and let out a shaky breath, "And now I've made Ludwig mad by talking about it again..."
Said German cupped his boyfriend's cheek in a comforting gesture, "I'm not mad..." Though the tension in his other fist stated otherwise. Prussia blinked in surprise, he thought his brother and Italy had fully patched things up, but there obviously still was a rift or two that needed to heal.
They dissolved into a semi-awkward silence, then Ludwig returned to his book, and Gilbert sent his bird over to entertain Feliciano. The Prussian whipped out his cellphone and tried to call Matthew again, but ended up cursing the terminal's lack of awesomeness and service. Gilbert slumped in his chair and stifled a yawn.
It was going to be a long wait until the plane arrived.
xxxxx
The Next Day...
xxxxx
"And that's the last of it!" Canada cheerfully exclaimed as he shut his closet door, relieved to have finally gotten everything unpacked. He went downstairs and opened the fridge; he and Kumajiro went food shopping the day before. He pulled out some lunch meat and began making a sandwich, "Hey Kuma, you hungry?" Said bear padded into the kitchen and hopped up into a chair and stared at his owner expectantly. Mattie chuckled, "I'll take that as a yes." He quickly assembled the food, placing one plate in front of his pet. "So, I finished unpacking... What do you want to do after lunch?"
The bear stared at him again, "Who...?" He shook his head, deciding not to finish the question, "How about we go for a drive?"
"Hmm... How about a walk instead?" Mattie took a bite of his sandwich, "It'd be nice to get back out on the street again..."
Kumajiro shrugged, "Okay," A walk was normally defined as Canada doing the walking while he was being held. It really didn't matter that much to the Canadian, considering that his bear was pretty light.
They finished their lunch in silence and Canada got up to get his jacket after cleaning up. He scooped his cub into his arms and out they went. The afternoon air was colder than usual, but it was a crisp and fresh kind of cold. Matthew began to wander at his leisure, not really caring where his feet took him. Before he knew it he found himself in a small district with several shops and a café. A small smile spread across his face as observed the people passing by. It was the weekend, so it was a bit more crowded than usual, but he didn't mind. The area normally had a cheerful atmosphere, but something forced Canada to freeze as passed by one of the stores.
Something felt... Off.
Like a foreign presence.
Hastily Matthew surveyed his surroundings once more and then it happened. The crowd seemed to part, revealing—for the briefest of moments—a very familiar face amongst the nameless mass. The Canadian's heart leapt into his throat as he quickly whipped around the corner and pressed himself against the side of the building, eyes wide and body numb from shock. He regretted not going for a drive, oh how he regretted it. It would be so easily just to steal away in his vehicle and speed off at that moment. Matthew took a deep breath and cautiously peered back towards the crowded walkway, hoping, praying that he was just tired and that his eyes were merely playing tricks on him.
No...
There he was again, chatting cheerfully with a passerby. Shoulder length blonde hair was lightly tousled by the chilly breeze, and his blue eyes held both look of a saint and the leer of a predator. He was focused on a young woman beside him... He had not spotted Matthew.
Francis.
Francis was in Ottawa.
One could ask why, but the young blonde already knew the answer. Uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach.
How did France find him so fast?
Certainly Canada's destination wasn't that obvious...
And who the hell was that girl?
As if Matthew couldn't help it, he snuck another glance. She was a redhead, a pretty one at that. Francis seemed quite enchanted with her. The older man stated something and the girl blushed and smiled in response. Mattie turned on his heel and rushed away, trying to ignore his stinging hurt and confusion. A nagging voice in the back of his mind tried to reason with him.
So what if France was here?
So what if he was talking to a girl?
You left him, remember?
He cheated on you, right?
Mattie hugged his bear tighter and slowed his pace to a casual stroll. Francis shouldn't be here... He has no right...
His conscience countered. But you don't care that he's here. You shouldn't care.
Canada let out a weary sigh as he walked. It made no sense. France was there for Matthew, that was a given—there was no other logical reasoning for the man to be there. But if Francis was so keen on getting his little Mathieu back, wouldn't he think it unwise to flirt with a Canadian citizen in broad daylight? And since when had Francis taken a liking to redheads? Mattie scowled at the idea of his ex moving on so soon. Probably was another whore, just another notch on the Frenchman's bedpost. Canada forced himself to stop, surprised at his train of thought.
Was he...? No, it couldn't be.
It was impossible.
Still that nagging thought, that bitter feeling at the sight of that girl...
Mattie was... Jealous.
"...You okay?" The voice startled the Canadian, he had all but forgotten about the bear in his arms.
"Yeah..."
"It doesn't sound like you're okay..." Kumajiro turned so he could look at his master, "Wanna head home?"
"Sure..."
It didn't take long until the Canadian's house came into view. He dragged himself up the front steps, feeling worn down from shock and stress. He would have missed the bundle on his doormat if he hadn't nearly stepped on it and if Kumajiro didn't warn him.
Matthew set his bear down and picked it up. "M-Maple..." He muttered as he identified the gift.
A bouquet of roses.
He went inside in a sort of trance, with Kumajiro padding quietly behind him.
Roses.
Roses meant one thing and one thing only.
The bright blooms continued to stare at him as they were set on the counter. Mattie ran a hand through his hair and tried not to panic. He had forgotten that France knew where he lived... It had been so long since he had visited Canada had hoped the Frenchman had forgotten. An emotional storm began to brew in the young blonde's mind. Maybe he should throw the bouquet out, but then again it would be a shame to waste something so lovely... But they were from Francis! But that did not change the fact that it was a gift. For now they were just left on the counter as Canada grabbed his house phone and plopped himself down on the couch with Kumajiro curling up next to him. Without a moment's hesitation he dialed Prussia number, desperately needing someone to talk to.
"Please wait while the number you are trying to reach is located..." There was a long pause, "The number you are trying to call is currently unavailable, please hang up and try again later."
Mattie stared at the phone curiously, Gilbert never ignored phone calls. He petted his bear for a few minutes before picking up his phone again and dialing England's home phone. The Briton did say that Matthew could talk to him, and it would let them know that he was doing okay.
"Hello, you've reached Arthur Kirkland. Chances are I'm at a meeting or out running some errands, so I can't answer the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as possible, unless this is Alfred and you've locked yourself out of the bloody house again. For the last time, it's in the potted plant you git!"
...Beep.
Sadness settled deep within the Canadian's chest, so neither England nor America were home. He decided to leave a message, "Hey... It's Matthew. I wanted to apologize for leaving so suddenly—"
Someone on the other line picked up, "Mattie?!" America's distressed voice cut across him. "That you?!"
"Um... Hi Al."
A great sigh of relief came from the American, "Hold on a sec!" There was a pause, then shouting, "Hey Arthur! Matt's okay!" The sound of the phone shuffling was heard, "Yeah, he's calling from..." Another pause, this time of shock, "Shit... Canada, you're calling from Canada!"
His twin let out a small laugh, amused at his brother's reaction and feeling his spirits rise, "Yep! I'm home!"
"Well you could have given us some warning..."
Matthew rolled his eyes, "You would've tried to stop me, saying something along the lines of 'your brother the hero will help you' or something very similar."
"I would n—" America stopped himself, "Actually... Yeah that does kinda sound like what I'd do..."
"Kinda?" A voice in the background called out.
"Stop eavesdropping, Iggy!"
"How many bloody times do I have to tell you not to call me that?!"
Another laugh escaped the Canadian, "Actually, could I speak to England?"
"Wha? Oh yeah, sure! By the way, we're gonna be in D.C. a couple weeks before the next world meeting, feel free to drop by!"
A nervous chuckle was the only response.
The phone was handed over, "Mark—? No, Matthew, right?" England let out a sigh, "Sorry..."
"It's okay, you're getting better," Absentmindedly Canada scratched Kumajiro behind the ears. A thin veil of despondency settled over the younger blonde as and he let out a small sigh of his own.
"Is everything alright?" There was the sound of a door opening and closing, as if Arthur had stepped out onto the front porch.
"Can I talk to you?"
The Briton let out an amused hum, "Canada, you already are."
Mattie folded one arm under the other and rolled his eyes, "...You know what I mean..."
Warmth and concern colored England's response, "Of course you can, now tell me what's wrong."
It wasn't as easy talking to Arthur as it would have been to Gilbert, but Matthew still was happy that he had someone to share his problems with. He would have confided in his brother, but America's crazy and unrealistic solutions always involved being the hero and someone getting nuked, namely Cuba.
"Are you sure that France sent the roses?" The question held a Briton's underlying fury.
"...It had to be him..." Mattie whispered, "But... Why? ...I just want to get on with my life..."
There were a few seconds of silence, "Promise me you'll be careful," Arthur pleaded.
"I will, don't worry."
The reply eased some of the tension in the older man's voice, "Let us know if anything happens."
"Okay," There was another silence. Canada shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I guess I'll let you go now..."
"Should I tell Alfred what's going on?"
Mattie thought about it for a moment, "Tell him that I settled in okay, and that I'll see you both in Moscow."
"...Alright then," The faintest hint of uncertainly was in Arthur's voice, "Goodbye."
"Bye..." The young blonde hung up the phone. The heavy sadness from earlier re-rooted itself in his chest. He had expected the conversation with England to help; yes he wanted to forget about Francis and yes he did want to move on, but the cryptic flowers seemed to spark something. An alluring sort of mystique.
But why wouldn't Francis just talk to him directly?
Before the Canadian pursued the thought, the door bell rang. Matthew stood up; careful not to disturb the now sleeping Kumajiro (the bear rolled over and stretched out over the seat, mumbling, "Who are you...?" Before resuming his slumber). He glanced at the clock on his way to the door, it was a little after five; he should start dinner soon... The sound of a car speeding away could be heard as Canada unlocked the door, and he briefly wondered why some one would be in such a rush. He pulled open the front door, maybe that worked a later shift and was running late, or perhaps they had an obligatory date that changed locations at the last second—
No one was at the door.
Mattie's eyes slowly traveled downward, knowing what they would fall upon an instant before they did.
Another bouquet of roses.
France knew when Mathew had left the house... He had also known when the Canadian returned. The younger blonde picked up the second gift up and walking into his house, placing it next to the first. Each bundle had five blooms, bright, beautiful and full. Nothing but the best for his Mathieu. Slowly, Canada left the kitchen, returning several minutes later with a vase in hand. He filled it with water and set it on the table. Carefully, as to avoid the thorns, each flower was transferred to the vase, and the glass vessel was placed in the center of the table—almost as in honor.
Downfall started with the roses.
Like it always did and always would.
That much he knew was true
I've actually updated on time for once, yay! And I passed all of my finals! (Major thanks to everyone who wished me luck, I love you all!)
Now back to the story...Oh France, you manipulative frog you... (I think it actually says on his shoutwiki page that he enjoys manipulating people). I enjoyed writing Canada's interaction with Kumajiro, I mean, it's nice to have the bear say something other than "Who are you?" (though I do enjoy using that every once in a while). Now if only Mattie could get in contact with Gilbert...
