A/N: Huh, there's a moral to be learned here...somewhere...Anyways, here we are, the last chapter. It's more like an epilogue though. I just want to take this time to thank all of you who read, reviewed, alerted, and faved this fic. And to those who noticed certain details in the fic, you guys are awesome! Doh . I forgot to say happy birthday to Switzerland yesterday. I'm sorry if I made Ivan look like the bad guy in this fic, but he really isn't I swear!
Alfred woke up to the early morning sun, feeling lighter than before. His bed felt warmer in comparison to the nights before. Hesitantly, he looked at his arms, and aside from the stitches that were healing nicely, there was only unblemished skin. From the window, sunlight streamed steadily through. The crow never returned. Alfred scanned across his bedroom from where he was until his eyes landed on a certain wall – there was still the bullet hole.
I should really get that fixed soon…he reminded himself.
Slowly but surely, Alfred walked to the bathroom to look into the mirror; seeing as though the one in his room was still broken.
Another thing that needs fixing…
When Alfred peered into the mirror, he saw himself and only himself, smiling. When he went down the stairs, Matthew was already going up half-way, making sure that the American made it through the night. He had been sleeping on the couch, checking up on Alfred every couple hours until he ultimately fell asleep himself.
"Oh Alfred, you're awake?" the Canadian asked cautiously, looking over his brother. "Did something happen?"
"Nope! I just think that I'm ready to visit Arthur now," Alfred beamed. And although it wasn't as wide as it used to be, his grin was enough to convince the Canadian.
"Okay, we'll get something to eat after then," he compromised.
"Great! I'll drive," Alfred said before rushing past his brother to exit through the front door.
Before leaving the house, Matthew threw away an empty bottle of pills.
He'll be alright
X.X.X.X
The ride to the cemetery was unusually casual. Alfred was striking conversation with Matthew, and although the Canadian would sometimes stare warily at the road, the other blond was sane enough to drive properly. Just before the rusty gates of the cemetery, the two saw Francis walk out of the necropolis. Alfred sped up to catch up to the Frenchman to apologize for what he did at the meeting. Francis was a bit shocked at what the American was telling him, but easily forgave him and told him to be strong before leaving.
Arthur's grave was near the back of the cemetery, but along the way, Alfred stopped at Toris's resting place. As always, Feliks made it there before the twins. When Alfred approached the grave, he gingerly placed rues from the flower store he stopped by next to the corn poppies already on the stone monument.
"Hey Alfred," Feliks spoke up after the three had a moment of silence to pay their respects. "I had a dream just the other night,"
"Oh? And what did you dream of?"
"It's weird…but, like, I saw Toris…" the Pole said, looking at his fingernails in thought. "He told me not to worry, and that he's totally alright,"
"Were there any scars on him…?" Alfred had to ask. "Any wounds on his neck or face?"
"Are you like, still going on about that? He looked fine," Feliks answered. "Oh! And he asked me," turning his green eyes toward Alfred. "To tell you 'thank you',"
At this, Alfred was a bit taken aback, but then gave a knowing smile.
As he and Matthew continued to go deeper into the cemetery, Feliks remained and kneeled down to shift the newly placed floral into a neat arrangement, uttering "You made it out of the snow, and into the field of rye."
Once a few feet from the Englishman's grave, Matthew stayed back a little to give Alfred some space. With a bouquet of roses in his hands, Alfred tried his hardest to keep the tears from falling. "H-hey Arthur," he started, his voice slightly cracking. "You…must think I'm a real git for not visiting your grave for almost a week now eh?" he chuckled humorlessly, a tear slipping down his cheek. "...Thank you…for everything…" Placing the red roses down onto the tombstone next to the white lilies, Alfred found that he could say no more, his throat closed around sobs. He stiffened when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he was met with violet eyes.
Matthew curtly nodded at him, his eyes telling Alfred that he could take as long as he wanted.
But the blond shook his head. "There's still one more I want to visit," Alfred said before sparing one last look at Arthur.
At the farthest corner of the necropolis rested Ivan Braginski. When Alfred and Matthew reached the area, Katyusha smiled at them gratefully and left. Although Natalia's body was never found, out of the Ukrainian's request, a tombstone was set for her beside her brother. Not expecting the new addition, Alfred had to split the bundle of sunflowers he carried and placed half on each of the gravestone.
"Eh? Alfred…why?" Matthew questioned the American's action. "I thought that…"
"You know Matthew," Alfred started. "I think what's worse than death, is being forgotten afterwards…Ivan and Natalia don't deserve that…"
The blond was quiet after Alfred gave him his reply, contemplating over what he just said.
"By the way Matthew, thanks for looking after me," he said suddenly.
The Canadian slightly blushed from being appreciated and noticed for his efforts. "I-it was nothing…somebody had to watch over you," he laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
"If only they were as lucky as I was…" Alfred waved a hand to Ivan's and Natalia's grave.
Matthew was shocked at how mature his brother sounded, but this observation was cut off when Alfred spun him around towards the exit.
"I'm hungry! Let's go get a hamburger somewhere!"
