Author Notes: And now we're back to actually following the role-play. For the most part. I mean, there's two scenes going on at the same time here, which is actually done at the same time in the role-play, but better separated in story format. But, for the most part, everything's back.

-Again, I'm impatient; I sent off a section of this to my sister, added a bunch of stuff, and lol, here ya go!

~!~

One Season

Part 1: Love Is Complicated

Chapter 9

~!~

When Gilbert Beilschmidt began to cry, Francis found himself staring in shock. After his initial observation of the beloved albino being broken by Hungary, he stepped back and stared. Spain was right there with him. Neither of them knew what to do, but, thankfully, neither one of them had to even lift a finger.

Matthew had gotten to his knees and was talking to Gil, touching him again, whispering to him, and sounding closer to the caring heart France was accustomed to hearing from his former colony. While the shock washed over him, France eventually let a small smile grace his lips. Finally. Maybe this would be enough. Maybe this would be the turning point to get these two back together. Maybe it would be just what Prussia needed. After all, everyone needed a good cry every once in a while. Tears healed the soul. And comfort...

Well, he would leave them alone. Step back. Let them work it out.

Besides, a car door slamming and a warning shout from Germany brought France's attention elsewhere. There was still one more problem to be solved. An extra puzzle piece where it didn't belong, masquerading and taking the slot of the piece that really did belong. Dragging Antonio with him, Francis walked out to the front yard, stepping down into the grass beside Italy and Germany.

As Hungary made her way to the group of them, France muttered under his breath. "So, do we have a plan? Start a war? After seeing what she did, I think it's worth it."

Not that his boss would approve of a war, of course, but at least the other nations would understand. It took a lot to push France to war nowadays. The fact that he was even willing to discuss the matter said a lot. Originally, he had fought the idea. When Canada had mentioned nuking every inch of Hungary's place – even if it was in a personality switch moment – France had jumped and promised himself to keep Matthew from acting so rashly.

Now...

Now things had changed.

When Hungary walked up to them calmly, smiling, and brushing at the folds in her dress, France had to fight the urge to growl. "Welcome, boys. Is something the matter?"

Antonio lifted his arm, then lowered it, his fist obviously clenched. The Spainard took it personally when his friends were hurt. Well, France did, too, but Antonio was a bit more on the uncontrollable side when he decided to unleash revenge. When he decided to let that little monster side of his...well... "You better be happy the airport wouldn't let me bring my ax."

"Yes, well," Elizaveta said. "Would you like to come inside? Perhaps we can discuss this civilly?"

A little bubble of silence popped up, each of them confused by her question. By how calmly she was treating this situation. Could she not tell that they were all holding back? All so obviously angry, testosterone pressing against their moods. It took all of France's control not to jump forward and strangle her, and every thought he had of Prussia's current state made him want to lash out more. Prussia was a friend. An idiot friend who loved to get himself into trouble, but still...

"Hungary," Italy said, popping the silence bubble, "why are you trying so hard to hurt him?"

"Hurt him?" Hungary tilted her head. "Oh Italy, I'm not trying to hurt him."

Yes, you are. It's obvious. You're destroying everything that makes Prussia the man we know. You're turning his newest gift against him, you're working so hard to destroy the loving relationship he managed to find and cultivate, and you've broken his pride. Not trying to hurt him? All you've done is caused him pain!

A growl was the response from Germany, and Spain's words echoed what France was thinking. "Don't play stupid. We all know what you're doing. And we're going to stop you, regardless of the means."

To his surprise, Hungary didn't seem the least bit worried, raising an eyebrow at the Spanish man's threat. "Oh? And what 'means' do you intend to use to stop me? Right now, all I see is a terrible distraction."

"Whatever it takes," Germany scowled, "to get you to leave mein bruder alone."

"You'd be surprised what a Spanish man can do," Antonio said, adding, "Even without his ax."

Before France could add his own threat – after all, why not join in – the little Italian stepped out from Germany's shadow. "Hungary, stop it. Please."

Oh, yes, he'd forgotten. Italy had a good relationship with Hungary. Or a good past relationship. They'd both been in Austria's house when the haughty aristocrat had actually ruled a portion of the world. Part of the great Austrian Empire. Was Italy intentionally trying to use his friendship, his connection, to Hungary, or was it just like Feliciano to be the one to shout at everyone to stop fighting?

"Hungary," Italy continued, stepping right up to the female nation and lowering his voice. "Please. Prussia has finally found someone who really loves and understands him. Why are you constantly trying to tear them apart?"

It was a beautiful sentiment. Innocent and naïve but beautiful.

Of course, Elizaveta wasn't going to understand. She never had. "He's mine," she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "That's why!"

As Italy flinched back, Antonio growled. "He is not yours. You just tricked him into a stupid promise!"

"Ah, yes, his promise." At the smirk that crossed Hungary's face, France felt his stomach grow nauseous. Such a look should never form on such a beauty. "That's the real kicker, isn't it? I bet he never promised anything to Canada; what does that say about his feelings? I didn't even have to work hard to get that out of him, you know."

Feeling his hands shaking by his side, Francis lowered his eyebrows and stepped forward himself. They were all close to her now, surrounding her, and she didn't seem fazed by it at all. "You just want someone to control, don't you?"

Of course, Germany had to go and interrupt him. "You know nothing of what they went through, do you?"

And of course, Germany had to be the one to grab her attention. France was all too easily ignored these days. "What are you talking about?"

Then again, of all of them, Ludwig was probably the most frightening. The man was buffer, larger, and downright scarier than the rest of them. His anger was not to be trifled with, so it was no wonder Hungary was paying the most attention to the German nation. Though admitting such a thing did make France feel a little useless and upset at himself. Once upon a time, he had been the one everyone was scared of, the world trying to keep a balance of powers in the European continent in an effort to keep him at bay. Now...well...things had changed.

"Some World Government supporters had them captured," Ludwig growled.

And surprisingly enough, Hungary's eyes widened, her face growing pale. Immediately, Francis narrowed his eyes. What did Hungary know about the World Government movement? What did she know about the latest human organization reaching beyond the borders, the effort to capture nations, to destroy nations? Russia was involved on some level, but what about Hungary? Did she play some part, too? Was that her aim here? Was that why Prussia becoming a micronation...?

No, that didn't make sense. A micronation shouldn't matter. They weren't even truly recognized. Just an enigma in their existence. A little thread that kept them alive against the rules.

Still, why did Hungary seem so worried? "Captured? World Government?" The surprise dropped and her eyes narrowed. "Is Russia involved?"

"Yes," France said before he could hold his tongue. "Yes, he is."

Spain nodded. "Si, and what you're doing is not helping Matthew get over it."

For some reason, the information made Hungary step back. It made her bring a hand to her chin, tapping it, looking thoughtful, her gaze no longer worried about their presence on any level. Her reaction was enough to put the group of them on hold from their current mission. Distracting her seemed to be all they were good for at the moment anyway. If she was so confident, if she did know something...

"So that's why he..." Elizaveta mumbled, then she lowered her arm and glared toward her own house. "I need to speak with Matthew."

Francis blink. How on earth would she know that Canada was here? Or was she just assuming? Then again, why else would the four of them be standing outside her house, if not to distract her from the important moment between Prussia and Canada? She must be assuming that Matthew would come here to save Prussia, or, in her mind, to take Gil away again. But why...?

Spain beat France to the question, stepping up to stand directly in front of the woman, as if trying to block her view of her own house. "And why, exactly, is that?"

Yes, why would Hungary need to speak with Matthew? Why would she say such a thing only after the topic of the world government had been mentioned? What did she know?

"To discuss an arrangement," Hungary said, rolling her eyes. "I don't believe the rest of you should have any say in this matter."

Feliciano huffed. "Hungary, honestly, I think Prussia is the only one to have a say. It's his life. He should choose who to spend it with."

Hungary outright laughed. "Prussia? Able to decide for himself? All that man knows is war and sex; everything else confuses him. As should be obvious now."

Crossing his arms, France found himself mumbling an agreement. "You know, I can agree with that. Love does confuse the fuck out of him."

It's why he's in this mess in the first place. It's why we're here. It's why all of this has happened. Because Prussia doesn't understand his own feelings. His heart acts funny and he turns into a different person just in an effort to figure out why and how to make it stop.

~!~

Matthew Williams touched the cloth fabric, his fingers finding holes in the back of the shirt, finding skin, feeling what he could assume was dried blood and scabs. Raised skin. He knew about the scars. He had lain with this man more than once; he had felt the scars before, but feeling them now, alongside what would undoubtedly be several additions to the already scarred pale skin...it made his heart ache.

He squeezed the albino's shoulder, gently, and he reached out to touched the other shoulder, too, hesitantly, not knowing what else to do. For whatever reason, his mind was made up now. Forgive Prussia. Kill Hungary. Well, seriously hurt her. Killing was a bit rash, and the thought may have been a little out of place, but his heart was hurting now. Not because someone had crushed it, but because the one he still loved was hurting. Some might wonder why he had forgiven the cheater. Why was he willing to let this man crush his heart? Why forgive someone who could run off to another so easily?

The answer was simple and complicated at the same time. He had thought long and hard on it. He had learned what he could about this man who he had given so much to. He had been sure there was no excuse for cheating. He had planned merely to ask why, be disappointed in the answer, and leave, cutting off the ties, resolving never to let such a thing happen again.

But love made him weak. Love made everyone weak. Nations and humans alike. History had written it down countless times. Humans were obsessed with the emotion. Why? Why did love let him forgive the one who had caused such pain? Because love was an emotion and emotions were human, unpredictable, and impossible to control.

When Gilbert cried, Matthew's heart hurt just as much as when Gil had kissed Elizaveta in the hallway. If not more so. He really couldn't stand to see the mighty Prussian cry. Now he could understand why the man had been so insistent on getting him to stop when he cried. It hurt.

So, Canada tried to make him stop. Words wouldn't come. Touches didn't seem to be working, either. He wanted to hug him. He wanted to let Gil sit here and cry it all out, but at the same time he didn't want to see it anymore. He didn't want to hear it anymore. He wanted to hear the stupid obnoxiously loud laugh, see the red eyes gleam in the sunlight. He wanted them to be happy again, for everything to go back to the way it had been, to get caught up in the albino's silly antics like water fights in the kitchen.

"Gil," he murmured, pulling back, glancing around the room, finding the silver glint from the flute, and then knowing exactly what to do. Reaching out, he picked the flute out from the bag, handling it gently as he held it out for the Prussian. "Play for me?"

As if the question and the gesture had been exactly what Gilbert needed, the man lowered his hands, pale fingers finally letting go of silver strands of hair. The sobbing stopped. Tears still tracked down his face, but silently for the most part, as he caught his breath, followed the flute to the arm that held it and finally connected eyes with the blue of Canada. Matthew met the red eyes and smiled gently, pushing the flute into Gil's hands.

"Please?" Matthew whispered, choking back the sudden urge to burst into tears himself. He had to be strong. Had to be the strong one now. Gil needed someone strong to pull him back, someone that loved him enough to pull him back from the darkness Hungary had thrown him into.

Prussia took the silver instrument into his hands, ever so slowly, gave a weak excuse for a smile, and then changed positions. The man got off of his knees and instead sat with his legs crossed. The red eyes seemed to be locked onto Canada, locked but not gleaming. They weren't dancing, but they weren't as empty either. Like he wasn't fully there but was instead thinking of something. Then, the pale hands moved, brought the flute to his lips, and music began to fill the room.

Soft, sad, longing, mournful.

Matthew closed his eyes and let the sounds speak to him, letting himself remember the first time Prussia had played for him. Unbidden but appropriate, he also recalled the conversation in the car ride. Of France, Spain, Italy, and Germany saying how hard it was to make Prussia play, how the man rarely let anyone else hear him these days. Yet Matthew could do it so easily. Canada could get the awesome Prussian to play for him simply by asking for it.

Even now.

With his eyes closed, he let the music take him away from here. Back to the happy memories that felt like such a long time ago. Back to the moments when Prussia would play for him in the house. When they would sit on the bed in their night clothes and Gilbert would pull the flute out and play at a simple request for music. And Canada would curl up in Gil's lap and let the music take him away. Take him to dreams and fairytales and childhood memories...to being loved and being happy and finally feeling the emotions that his people experienced every day, feeling such emotions for himself and then waking up to a touch of fingers running through his hair...

With a blink, Canada opened his eyes and found that he had leaned forward, that he was currently resting his head in Prussia's lap just like old times. At some point he must have stretched out across the floor, completely lost in the music and the memories. But the music had stopped, and there were fingers – trembling fingers this time – running through his hair, careful not to tap or get caught in the special curl.

Startled, Matthew shot up, pulling away quickly, getting back to his knees, wondering what on earth had come over him, only to freeze his movements at the sound of Gilbert's hoarse, whispery, shaky voice. "I really am sorry, Birdie."

There were tears in those red eyes. Again. And the voice was shaking because he was about to cry. Again. Reacting quickly, Canada moved forward, and reached for Prussia. He set his hands on either side of that pale face and wiped at the wetness on those cheeks.

"It will be fine. We'll fix everything. Together. Somehow."

What had been intended to keep the albino from crying only seemed to make the waterworks flow faster. Prussia's arms fell as he began to cradle the flute like it was one of the few things that would never leave him. Except, Canada was here. And Canada had just said he would never... "Gott," Gil said through his trembling, "I don't deserve you."

Shaking his head, Matthew moved his hands again, this time stroking the silver hair, petting at the strands, small soothing gestures that he knew would make the albino sigh. "Don't say that. You're awesome, remember?"

To his dismay, Gilbert flinched at the very word. "Right. Awesome. This whole situation is completely unawesome."

Sighing sadly at the reaction to one of Prussia's favorite words, Canada moved away again, only to reach out and touch the chain around the man's neck. "How could you let her do this?" He whispered.

Which only served to make Gilbert grimace some more. "It's...I...you don't want to know."

"Why are you doing everything she says?"

Gil flinched back at the question, as if he knew he had no good answer. "I...I don't know. I can't think straight anymore. She...it's complicated. I just...I don't even want to...But I can't stop..."

Like a tamed animal. Built in habits. Trained to follow her every whim. Papa was right. She did break him.

Seeing as Gil had moved away from him, Canada had to pull in closer to touch the pale face again. To get those red eyes to open and look at him. "It's all right," he said, leaning in to kiss him gently on the top of his head. "I understand."

The words finally broke through, finally gave him a reaction he could be happy with. Prussia's trembling calmed. His body relaxed. He even smiled, though it was small and showed no teeth. "I love you...so much." He lowered his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Birdie. I didn't – she was so – but – I -"

"Shh," Canada whispered, pressing a finger to the man's lips. "I understand." Red eyes looked back up at him, as if not believing him. At least Prussia wasn't flinching away or scared of being touched anymore. "Je'taime." He almost laughed when Gilbert stared back at him, not understanding. Would the man never remember the simple French phrase? Still, Canada kept his mirth hidden and pulled Prussia closer, wrapped his arms around him, set the man's head on his shoulder, putting his mouth close to the albino's ear. "I love you, Gil."

Finally, Prussia relaxed completely, laying against him, reacting well to the embrace and the whispered words. Matthew started to pet the back of Gilbert's head, stroking the silver strands, and earning that light contented sigh. His heart still ached; he had a feeling it would be a while before Prussia was back to normal.

Broken. Russia couldn't do it, but Hungary did...Don't worry, Gil. I'll fix it. I'll fix you. I'll take you back home and protect you and make sure this never happens again.

A sound from outside, steps on the porch, Hungary's voice, and Canada felt his arms wrap tighter at the flare of anger. First, before they could go home, he would have to take care of Elizaveta. "Hungary's still outside," he whispered, not intending to say it out loud and grimacing slightly when he did.

Because Prussia immediately tensed up and pulled away quickly, sitting up and wiping at the tear tracks on his face. "She's here?"

Canada gave a nod. "Oui, she is."

"Then I should..." Gilbert said, his mumbles disappearing in the air as he started to get to his feet.

Canada followed him. "Should what, Gil?"

To his dismay, Prussia turned around. "She said to wait on the couch – she'll be mad if I -"

Canada's hand shot out before he even processed the thought. Grabbing onto the albino's wrist and refusing to let go, he stood his ground. "No," he said, pulling Prussia back toward him, unintentionally making the man stumble in his steps as he was suddenly turned around. "No, Gil," he repeated, "You belong to me. Not her."

"H-Huh?" Gilbert said as he stared back at him.

"I don't believe that's been officially decided yet, Matthew." At the sound of Hungary's voice, and then seeing the red eyes grow wide in alarm, Canada spun around to glare at the bitch who had caused this mess. "But I suppose now is as good a time as any to discuss it. Remember, though, you were the one to make Gil a micronation. This is merely one of the consequences of such an action."

Dropping his grip on Prussia's hand, Matthew glared into the green eyes of the female nation. "That's a lie," he growled. "None of the other micronations have this happen."

"None of the others are quite old enough for anyone else to care," Hungary said. "There's history between Gil and I. Just as there is history between him and Russia. You cannot simply erase that history. By making him a micronation, you defy the rules, and you give him territory that makes us want to claim him."

"Us?"

She only smirked at him, and walked closer, placing a hand on his chest and leaning in, making it difficult for him to hold his clenched fists back from smacking her now. "Oh, Matthew, don't you understand the territorial urge you must be feeling now, too? Normally, a micronation proclaims itself, such as Sealand and the others. The world doesn't truly recognize them, but they insist and live because of stubborn humans. New Prussia, on the other hand, is different." She stepped back, then, her hands going behind her back as she looked over Canada's shoulder.

"How so?" Canada prompted, wanting to do what he could to pull her attention away from Prussia.

She simply shrugged. "Seems to be like you intentionally created the micronation, just for Gilbert, hm? Sure, the citizens had something to do with it, but you must have worked hard behind the scenes to make it happen. Most micronations, to the rest of the world, remain a part of the nation they split from, because those citizens were originally known as English or Austrian or Austrailian or American, heaven forbid."

"But...?"

"But, you didn't simply create a micronation. They're Canadian citizens, sure, but you named it after Gil's previous nation. New Prussia. So, it has a connection to anyone who might identify as Prussian." The green eyes narrowed. "And anyone who has a history with Prussia will feel the tug to claim that territory."

Feeling his forward crease, his brain hurting at the concepts being thrown at him suddenly, Canada flicked his eyes around the room, thinking, trying to debunk her theory, wanting to simply call her an insane bitch. "But...he had history with more people than just you. What about Poland, or Austria, or France, Germany, England..."

Hungary's eye roll only pissed him off more. "Oh, they don't count. Why on earth would they want to claim Prussian territory when you hold it, hm? After all, they probably consider it Canadian territory."

"Because it is!" Matthew snapped. "He's mine!"

Elizaveta seemed a little confused at the response, but after a little pause, she glanced over Canada's shoulder once more, and smirked. "Oh, is he now?" Following her steps with his eyes, Canada watched as Hungary walked around him, moving to stand beside Prussia, even to interlock their arms and tug him close to her. "But he'll do whatever I say. Will he do the same for you?"

Feeling his blood boiling, Canada was about to shout an answer, when Gilbert finally spoke up. His red eyes were distant and his body seemed to be trembling, whether from the conversation or the fact that Hungary was touching him, Canada didn't know. His voice was quiet when it echoed in the air, too. Quiet. But strong. Decisive. Filled with intent.

Words that made Hungary freeze. "Lizzy, stop."

Seeing Hungary's shocked face, Matthew knew it was a big deal. A strong move. Something that showed Prussia was still in there somewhere. Besides, the red eyes seemed more alive than they had so far. And so Canada decided to hold his anger back some more and watch. Watch and wait to see if Gilbert would put the bitch in her place at long last.

"What did you just call me?" Elizaveta whispered.

Prussia actually pulled away from her, wincing slightly as he took his arm back. "Lizzy," he repeated, putting emphasis this time on the nickname. "Stop."

The blow came unexpectedly. A slap across the face, nails leaving red marks as they went. "That is not my name!" She hissed, reaching out to grab and pull Prussia's hair, simultaneously pushing him down, forcing him quickly to his knees.

Feeling his held anger explode from its imprisonment, Canada sprang forward and grabbed at Hungary's hair, yanking her back. She screamed but he ignored it. He threw her to the ground, not caring at the sound it made as her body hit the floor, not caring for the cries she unleashed at the treatment she was not used to receiving. Once she was on the ground, he stood above her, and glared, pointing his finger at her as his eyes burned with the desire to kill her now.

Instead, he settled for a threat. "If you ever hurt him again, I will nuke every last inch of your country and stand by as I watch you burn."

Not giving her a chance to respond, Matthew left her on the ground and spun on his heel to attend to the albino they were fighting over. Prussia was on his knees, hands in his hair, eyes on the ground, but he was muttering something over and over, something that sounded like apologizes to "Elizaveta," and he was crying again, as if the small slap had been enough to hurt him. Matthew had seen Gilbert withstand torture at the hands of the one-world-government; he couldn't believe that Prussia had really fallen this far.

He winced but held out his hand, causing the mumbling to stop as Prussia lifted his head to see who the hand belonged to, but those red eyes were empty again. The life he had seen earlier had been shattered once more. "Come on, Gil. Let's go home."

When Prussia lowered a hand and started to reach for Canada, Elizaveta had to interrupt from where she was recovering on the floor. "Gilbert, if you dare to take his hand..."

Which caused Prussia to freeze midway, much to Canada's dismay. He could have reached out and pulled the albino up anyway. He could have forced Gil to leave with him. It wouldn't have been hard, not with his strength and anger fueling him to do whatever he felt like now. But he also understand what this moment meant. It was Prussia's last chance to make the right choice. Would he listen to Hungary and stay here? Or would he take Canada's offered hand of love and return to the one who actually cared?

Seeing as Prussia seemed to be having an internal battle, Canada chose to push him just a little. With a gentle whisper. "Come on, Gil. Come home. We all miss you. I miss you."

Red eyes looked up at him. A spark of a shine reflected in them and then the pale hand reached out and grabbed Matthew's, clasping tightly. A wave of relief flooded Canada as he pulled Prussia to his feet and continued to hold his hand. And then Gilbert leaned in and proceeded to wrap him in a hug.

And Gil responded with his own little whisper. "Danke, Birdie. Ich liebe dich."

~!~

A/N: First of all, Happy Birthday to me. Turned 25 last Friday. Lol, I'm a quarter of a century now. That's kind of...gosh, I feel old.

-When I was deciding whose point of view to write the first scene from, I remembered that, hey, I love writing from France's view point and he doesn't get much love so, lol, that's why France.

-Also, "where did Austria go?" right? Ah hah...ah hah...not telling...Besides, this is PruCan story. You're not supposed to care about what happens to Austria. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain! (kudos if you get that reference)

-This scene with Prussia and Canada, while emotional in the role-play, did not hit me NEAR as much as this did. There's several reasons for that, but damn, sometimes I wonder if it's a bit overkill. And then I say. Ah. Romance/Drama. It's meant to be overkill. Cry, cry, and cry some more. Personally, I wish I cried more often.

-The confrontation Canada vs Hungary has been replayed several different ways in my mind, and this is what came out when I actually started to write it down. Once again, I went away from the role-play and completely made stuff up, because I wanted to keep the feel and the emotion and...well...

-Hey! Canada's being the strong one for Prussia now! ...he's also being a bit possessive now that he's made up his mind...

-Everything Hungary says about micronation status and whatnot is kind of jumbled and confusing and if you can follow it, then wow I'm impressed because she's supposed to come off a little crazy in that not-really-making-sense way.

-Oh, and yeah, everyone else is hanging outside. Decided to let Canada handle it himself (okay well maybe they're hanging around the doorway but shhh).

~~Thanks for all reviews/favorites/alerts; it was about this time last year that I started writing One Month, and look where we are now; whether or not you've followed me from the beginning or recently discovered this series, I thank you wholeheartedly for putting up with my random updating schedule and moments of supposed hiatus; fear not, I will not abandon this story; summer time hopefully means faster updating, too, even though I'm in summer school (bleh)~~

~Reda