You all doing good? If you are, great! If not, I'm really sorry.

Thanks to Adri-Swan, MapleLeafGirl, quitkid, MonochromeVeins (awesome name, btw), and TreesRAwesome.

I live to give you all fluff and sexy-times. Wait, cross out the sexy-times thing...and the fluff. This one is a heart-breaker!

This pairing took me forever to find a plot without making it a crack drabble, cause I tend to do that but, whatever, you know?

So here it is, the long awaited chapter-


Ship: Canada x Denmark

Why: Denmark's boisterous personality levels out Canada's shy demeanor.

History: Vinland. They also have many of the same ideas for Economic ideas and such. Their dimplomatic ties are pretty great as well.

Warnings: History, headcanons, and a huge trigger warning. Canada is kinda depressed and suicidal...also, this will have a sad end. Sorry~


Denmark marched off the boat and silently watched the treeline. He kicked some of the pebbles and stones that were resting on the shore.

Beside him, Norway and Sweden held their weapons and advanced to the forest.

"We will check the surrounding area. You set up camp." Norway stated with authority.

"Do I have too?" Denmark whined. The stoic nations rolled their eyes.

Sweden glared at the pouting Dane. "Ja." He muttered. Denmark groaned and began to set up camp.

Two hours later, a fire was crackling in the center of a field. Small logs were put together to make some kind of tent-like shelter.

Norway and Sweden stared blankly at the camp, before facepalming. Denmark sheepishly laughed.

"Looks good, right? Two hours of hard labour put my back in pain, oh, ow!" Denmark groaned while rubbing his back. "It hurts so much!" He playfully added.

"Looks like it's bedtime! Sleep well!" The Dane chortled before jumping into a pair of bushes.

Norway quietly muttered,"Sometimes I really hate him." Sweden nodded and went back into the forest, hopefully to find some actual means of a shelter.

Meanwhile, Denmark was resting against a pine tree. Snoring softly, he fell into a deep slumber.

Little footsteps pattered through the trees. They stopped nearby the sleeping nation.

Lavender eyes curiously searched the man. A polar bear sniffed at the man, trying to sense if he was dangerous.

"He not." Kumajirou confirmed. Vinland smiled and clapped his small hands together.

"Yay! Now we can have friend...but he look scary. Do you think he nice?"

"Probably not."

"We wake him up."

"No."

"F-fine...can I throw rock at him?" Vinland lifted a few small rocks from the shoreline.

Denmark awoke to something very large smacking onto his head. "Ow! Now I really am in pain! Why didja do that Nor- wait, you're not..." He sat, flabbergasted at what he saw.

A young boy in a simple, white dress, a purple ribbon tied in a bow was around the collar. Next to the boy was a polar bear cub, who seemed to be snickering.

The boy took a step back and muttered something intelligible.

"What was that? I can't hear you!" Denmark leaned closer.

"I'm Vinland..."

"Well, slap my head and call me a prut!" Abel exclaimed. He shuffled closer to the tiny kid.

With a cheerful smile, Vinland smacked the larger nations head. "You a prut!" He giggled.

Denmark smiled as he rubbed his now extremely sore head. 'This kid's a keeper!'


Over the course of a few weeks, many things had changed.

Villages were built up and torn down, people lived and died, trees grew and were chopped down.

Only one thing had happened to stay the same. Little Vinland.

Denmark had taken the little nation under his wing, showing him the ropes of being a nation and taking care of their people. Vinland would sit, amazed at the plentiful stories that he was told. Some of the stories would make the nation cry, others would make him laugh, but most of them made the colony snuggle into his elder's embrace.

Every time, Denmark would pull the kid closer, falling asleep as well. Norway would check on them, but when he did, he would feel a tug at his chest. With a diligent heart, Norway had convinced the natives that the settlers were not what they seemed.

After months of tension, everything snapped.

Vinland cried, gripping onto Denmark's legs. "P-please don't go, I don't want to be alone!"

With a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and many tears, Denmark sailed away, leaving Vinland all by himself.

Little did the Scandinavian know, his little friend would grow up in turmoil.


Many Years Later, at the Arctic Conference


Denmark guzzled down another beer. This beer was a special kind of beer, though. It was Canadian beer. Abel has been spending most of the conference drinking the alcholic beverage, not caring about the impending headache he would soon have.

But why was he drinking so much, you may ask?

Well, for one, he loves beer so much that Finland liked to tease him about marrying the beer. Two, he's just been very down in the dumps.

Today was the 'Anniversary' of him abandoning Vinland. Every year on this day, he would drink at least a whole 8-pack, hoping that his guilty conscience would fade away.

Abel still questioned himself about why he left the little colony by himself.

Then he would remember all of the pain his people went through, since the natives were very angry with the settlers. The natives had even tried to burn down the forts!

With a groan and a pop, Abel opened another bottle. He stumbled down the hallway, completely wasted to the point of puking up his dinner.

As Denmark tried to walk down the hall, he heard noises coming from a room. He studied the door for a moment, before deciding that it was just someone fighting.

Until he heard the gunshot.

Normally, if someone were to hear a gunshot, they would run, or roll up into a ball and cower in fear. But, Denmark isn't normal. He just so happens to be part of the Awesome trio, and why shouldn't he prove himself?

So, with a quick kick and wrench, the cheap door broke into small splinters.

Denmark's beer bottle dropped to the ground in shock.

Instantly waking up from his drunken stupor, he cried out in despair.

"Vinland!"

Abel ran up to the bloodied country. Kneeling down beside him, Denmark ran his fingers through the bloodied hair.

"You can't be dead, nations don't die!" Denmark placed two fingers against Vinland's wrist, hoping to find a pulse. With a choked back sob, he pulled out his out-dated cell phone, and typed out a number he knew by heart.

"Alfred...come to room 1867. Now."

"Dude? What's wrong?"

"Just come over!"


America stared at the distraught Nordic nation.

"Okay, bro, you're starting to scare me, what's- woah!" Denmark grabbed America and pushed him into the room.

Alfred stared wide-eyed at the body, before slowly walkeing over to his brother. "M-mattie? Matthew...Canada!"

Abel covered his ears, trying to drown out the sounds of the American's crying, before joining in.


With heavy hearts, eleven countries stood around a casket.

Ukraine cried into Romano's shoulder. Romano had tears running down his face. He was trying his best to not start cursing. He knew Canada wouldn't want that.

France had a handkerchief, which he placed carefully into the casket.

South Korea and Prussia tried their best not to cry, as they knew their friend wouldn't want that.

Norway, Iceland, Sweden, and Finland stood at a distance from the funeral. They barely knew the country that had died, but Denmark had begged for them to come. He even decided to give up beer for a month, just so they could come.

Denmark and America sat by the casket, both dressed in dark suits.

"Why do you think he did it?" Abel solemnly asked.

Surprised with the question, Alfred faltered in his sobbing. "I...don't know. Mattie was-" he coughed when he said the past term,"-the most complex guy I knew. I rarely understood what he meant if he was out of his passive-aggressiveness. He liked to talk in a weird language too..it sounded a lot like Norwegian, now that I think about it."

Denmark nodded. 'I wish I could have gotten to know you..Canada.'


Hours later, Denmark was the only one left at the grave.

He muttered a quiet, yet loving phrase.

"Hvis bare jeg fik virkelig kender dig..."

Abel placed a red Chrysanthemum on the rough dirt. Now, it was time to join his Vinland.

In his hand, was a gun.