To say they were shocked would be a bit of an understatement – at least for Matthew who still had his feet wide open while Gilbert held steady at his opening but only for a moment before he retreated and eased back onto the headboard. An annoyed sigh never faltering as it pushed its way past his lips.

"We were about to have sex," he answered bitterly.

Kumajiro blinked, his dark eyes drifted away from the Prussian to the Canadian who had somehow cocooned himself in the sheets. Matthew didn't look at the man who had just burst through the door; he kept his eyes downcast – a blatant attempt at turning the attention away from him. He was failing.

"Sex …?" Kumajiro echoed, his voice lost in thick confusion. "Like … mating? Canada you were about to mate with- with this hoser?"

Matthew could hear the disbelief in Kumajiro's voice. And when he thought about it, it was kind of crazy that he would allow Gilbert to … to penetrate him. Normally he would have more sense than that but maybe today was different. Maybe the desperation was just too overwhelming for any logical reasoning to come through. Yeah, that had to be it, because, because … because it had to be. Matthew didn't want this – he just needed it.

He sighed, suddenly remembering the ex-bear who stood in the room. Matthew needed Gilbert, that was for sure, but now he wouldn't be getting any help at all. And to just go into one of the bathrooms and take care of the issue that, despite what the blonde was thinking earlier, Gilbert worsened would be inappropriate. "Maple …."

Kumajiro never looked away from the trembling sheet-chrysalis, he was still waiting for an answer that it seemed he would never get. So he asked again, "Canada were you about to mate with him?"

Gilbert saw Matthew's body flinch. It irked him that the blonde was letting Nanuq stay. Honestly! Shouldn't he be downstairs with everyone else? Speaking of downstairs … Gilbert looked down at his penis. It was dripping pre-cum and was partially erect. Like, what the fuck? He had planned on letting the Canadian suck it limp but now he couldn't do that either! The thought made the anger within him swell.

"CANADA!"

The boom of Kumajiro's voice started both Matthew and Gilbert. Matthew turned around slowly and met the heated gaze of the white-haired man standing by the door. It was still open. Matthew really wished he would close it.

"ANSWER ME!"

Gilbert sat up straight then, realizing by the look in Nanuq's eyes that it was best he intervene before things get violent. "Oi, let's not make this something of a spectacle. It would not be awesome if we were all caught up here."

Upon hearing Gilbert's words Matthew felt his cheeks flare. He was probably beet-red. The idea of Alfred running in on this scene was petrifying! Or, even worse, people he trusted, people who trusted him! And knew him! Like Carlos, or Lars, or Yong-soo, or (on occasion) Francis and Arthur! The burning in his cheeks intensified as numerous over-exaggerated plays of nations who recognized him running into the room drove circles in his head.

Kumajiro snarled at the man on the bed, ignoring the Canadian who seemed to be deeply engulfed in his own world. "Pardon me, you sex hungry Nymphomaniac, but I don't think I'm talking to you!"

The albino's facial expression twisted. He shot out of the bed and glared at the man that stood before him with squared shoulders. "Nymphomaniac! Are you fucked? Do I look like a fucking pussy wielder?"

Kumajiro snorted. "Coulda fooled me."

"Oh, fuck no! I'll fucking destroy you!"

"Do it! I dare you!"

From above his ocean of mortifying images Matthew could hear yelling. There was a crash! and a boom! Those noises were followed by yelling and screaming an incredible thud! Heavy breathing another crash! He figured he should turn around, stop whatever was happening, and he would. But that would mean surfacing, and he had already sunk deep into the ideas. He didn't want to move, he wanted to crawl under the bed and hide. With all of the – boom! – warfare carrying on mere meters away from his back he was sure a few ears would pick up the sound and soon a curious crowd of spectators would build.

The blonde gasped. A crowd! That would mean …! He jumped off the bed – sheet tightly wrapped around him – and dodged the flying limbs of the tussling men. Making haste, he feigned ignorance to the pain that his member was being put through as he pulled up his boxers, shoved his legs into his pants and did up his zipper. He shrugged on his shirt, and snatched Gilbert's overcoat from the floor. Remembering the tent below the deck he tied the overcoat around his waist. And … his shoes! Matthew scanned the room but searched to no avail. Whatever! It didn't matter right then! Prussia and Kumayoshi were going at it and knowing the two of them things would not end well. So he ran, straight out of the room and down the hall to find help.

Meanwhile! Gilbert threw a hard punch at Nanuq and nailed him clean in the jaw. The man yelped and fell back, easily becoming disoriented by the attack. The Prussian ceased the moment and lunged at him, but his fist collided with the ground as the pale figure beneath him rolled to the side.

Kumajiro pushed his body up and hefted his foot into the Prussian's stomach. Prussia crumpled from the pain. Kumajiro was sure he cracked a rib – broke it if he was lucky. But there was no time to second guess, he went in for the kill, making his way towards Prussia and fisting a chunk of hair. The Prussian hissed at the pain and Kumajiro smirked. He clenched the hair with more force, making sure the man felt each strand being yanked clean from the roots.

He stood up, hauled Prussia onto his feet by the head, and charged at the wall.

Gilbert braced himself for the coming impact. It was at that moment that he realized his analysis error. He underestimated Nanuq. The guy was clearly stronger than he appeared – he was the modest type. Completely ignoring and never boasting about his strength until the right time presented itself. And stupidly the Prussian man skipped over that possibility and presented the right time. But even then … no human could cause as much harm as Nanuq had. It was impossible.

Gilbert shook the thought and brought his attention back to the fight. Knowing that his skull would shatter like glass if he didn't take evasive action, Gilbert brought his arms up to shield his face and it wasn't even a second before his arms smashed into the wall, plaster and wooden beams.

Kumajiro rammed the Albino's head in without any prior thought of the damages it may cause. He was only thinking to kill and alleviate himself of the concentrated anger that singed his insides. He pulled the head out and smashed it back, over and over until Prussia's body became limp in his hand.

"Heh," Kumajiro huffed. "You put up more of a fight than I anticipated."

He let the Prussian go and his body fell to the floor. Smiling at his victory, Kumajiro lifted his fists into the air and sang gleefully, "I am the champion, my friend~! And I kept on fighting till the end~! I am the champion! I AM THE CHAMP- Ah!"

Something hard hit him behind the knee and he dropped onto the floor. His head met hardwood with an agonizingly loud crack and he had to blink away the fuzz that abstracted his vision. "Ooh … ow …"

From just beyond his head he heard a triumphant 'kesesesesesesesese' in his ears. He groaned; this war clearly wasn't over.

B H B

Matthew tripped on his way down the stairs, stubbed his toe whilst rounding a corner, and collided into something much softer than any wall when he got distracted by the smells coming from the kitchen. And that was what he got for leaving his glasses in the room, he supposed. He was pretty much blind without them – it was like watching the world through a partially fogged window.

Two hands grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him back. The Canadian realized then that whatever he crashed into was not inanimate, but was very animate and … another nation. Matthew craned his neck to look at who it was and was delighted to find Lars. The taller man stared back with a blank expression before pushing Matthew away and crinkling his nose in disgust.

"No offence, Canada, but you smell strange … like sex and angry German," he commented blatantly. "And your jacket, that isn't the one you wore earlier – not that I remember what jacket you wore …. So where's your friend?" He asked, trying to redirect the conversation but when he got no immediate answer he brought his eyes to the floor. They landed on Canada's bare feet and he looked at the blonde in confusion. "Your feet-"

"I need your help, eh!" Matthew blurted, making his own attempt to change the subject. "Prussia and Alabama are upstairs fighting!"

Lars' face contorted to further confusion. "Alabama?"

Matthew eyes widened upon realizing his mistake. "I-I mean Alaska! The guy I brought here! He's fighting with Prussia and I'm warning you from now, it is going to take a lot more than just you and I to tear them apart! So we need to hurry and find help, eh!"

Lars nodded and hurried out the door with Matthew on his heels. To the Canadian's surprise, Lars stopped dead in his tracks in the center of the throng of nations and started scanning. His eyes landed on Ludwig who was steadily watching over his Italian friend as he shovelled spoonfuls of ravioli into his mouth.

He turned on his heels to face Matthew. "I'm going to go get Germany, you go and find France – no scratch that, France will want to get in on the action. Go get Russia or Cuba they're pretty tough. And try to keep this discreet. We don't want any more problems than is needed, understood?"

Matthew blinked. "Y-you want me to get Russia?"

Lars smiled and ruffled Matthew's hair. "C'mon, this is no time to cower, someone could be brutally murdered and you wouldn't want to carry the weight of their preventable death on your slim, delicate shoulders, would you? Surely the idea of Prussia or Alaska being killed because your bones got a little cold makes that inner Canadian strength shine through?"

"N-not really."

The corner of Lars mouth twitched and his smile tightened; he bit back whatever words he was going to communicate to the blonde and scoped the field until he spotted a head of pale hair and a white scarf. Without a word, he lifted Matthew from the ground.

"L-Lars? Lars w-what are you-"

And with that he was tossed across the property. His airtime ended painfully when he landed right in front of two brown boots.

It was a good thing a majority of the world didn't know he existed or, by Gaia, that might have been the most humiliating thing ever.

"Comrade Matvey?" A soft voice called from above him. Matthew's bloody went frigid.

He looked up at the Russian and smiled, trying his best to stifle his trembling body. "H-h-h-hey, R-Russia! I-I need y-your h-help, p-p-p-please."

By now, the once semi-erect penis was now limp as a boiled noodle. Matthew squirmed under the curious examination of Ivan, he bit his bottom lip, fearing the worst as the Russian leaned in but was relieved to see him extend his hand instead to help Matthew off the ground.

"Does Comrade Matvey often eat dirt?" Ivan asked, amusement clear in his voice.

"N-no." Matthew looked at the small huddle of people that was now watching him. The three Baltic Nations, Poland and China; he could really use the extra help but Lars gave him very strict instructions to get Russia. Only Russia. He frowned. The Canadian turned back to Ivan and shuddered at the man's icy smile. "U-uh, I-I-I n-need your h-help. C-c-c-can you f-follow m-m-me?"

Yoa eyed Matthew suspiciously. "Why? I think it is impolite that you interrupted our conversation, aru, and now you want to drag Russia away. Unless this is an emergency, America, then-"

The blonde scowled at the sound of America's name being referenced to him. "It is an emergency."

"Then allow me to help also, aru."

Matthew bit his bottom lip. "But I was told-"

"Forget what you were told, if it is an emergency then you will need more than just Russia."

Matthew caved. "Okay, fine, China, you come, too."

"So what? You're, like, not going to invite me? Like, totally rude! Whatevs, like, I don't care. Hanging with Lithu is the ish anyway," Felicks voiced and turned his back to the Canadian.

It wasn't like two uninvited guests would make Lars any less mad at him than one would. Matthew, sighed. "Would you like to come too, Poland?"

Felicks spun around to face the taller blonde and tapped his chin in deep thought, his eyes going skyward for a moment before landing back on the Canadian. "Eh … nope."

Matthew's face went flat.

"You're totally asking me to, like, ruin my new kicks. It ain't happening, America. So desperate for aid from, like, the Polish. He's totally desperate, eh, Lithu. Like, friends request denied!"

Felicks burst into hysterical laughter and Toris chuckled awkwardly beside him.

They were wasting time. Matthew's eyes slid back on Ivan and Yoa who were already looking at him expectedly. He jerked his head in the direction of the manor. "This way."

B H B

Arthur poked at the tiny, yellow bird that was sitting between him and Alfred. His fingers jabbing its head until it nipped his finger and flew off belting out annoyed chirps.

"That bird looked familiar," Alfred muttered.

"Meh. Hey, how're things going with your economy as of late?" Arthur asked.

"Dude … it totally sucks."

"Mm. That's a bitch."

"Life's a bitch."

"Got that ri-"

From within the crowd Arthur could see a head of white hair bobbing up and down, it was headed in their direction. He gasped and was already on his feet when the head that he had foolishly mistaken for the polar bear-human belonged to Frey.

The Icelandic nation turned toward Lukas and stopped to chat to the Norwegian, utterly oblivious of the shaken Brit that was kicking himself in the head for being so irrational and jumping to conclusions.

"Hey, England what was that just now?" Alfred asked.

Arthur sat back down and let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in until he felt an uncomfortable pressure in his chest.

This paranoia was unbearable. It was going to eat him alive. He needed to tell someone or he might just go mad – from the hiding, from thinking that every blonde and white-haired being was either … that … guy or the polar bear.

If he told his American friend and pressed on the extreme importance of keeping it a secret then maybe he wouldn't have to feel this interminable paranoia and he could relax a little. He sighed out his fatigue and rubbed circles into his temples.

"Okay … America," he looked at the younger nation. "If I told you something, could I trust you to keep it to yourself?"

Alfred sent his a quizzical look. "What, did France give you a STD? Cause if he did-"

Arthur face went red. "WHAT? Boy are you daft? Do I look like some British man whore? That is not it at all! I- I … did something I'm not proud off …."

"Did you jack off while thinking about me?" Alfred grinned but it only earned him a fist to the face.

"Y-you're absolutely disgusting! Blinkin' Yankee!"

Alfred rubbed his aching skin. A bruise was definitely going to form later. Why were the British so angry? "It was just a joke," Alfred griped.

"Just shut your damn mouth and listen to me! I used my magic against … what's-his-face's polar bear because his stupid animal sabotaged my trick and it was supposed to DIE but it turned into a human and now it's running around with … that guy … and … the blonde lad … is trying to find me and I bet that vicious animal is after me, too and I'm bloody terrified that they'll rip my guts out and-"

Alfred clamped his hands down on Arthur's shoulders and shook him violently. "Get a hold of yourself, dude! What are you talking about?"

Alfred stopped shaking him and sat back. "You know the white-haired lad that suddenly just appeared?"

"Yeah, Alaska! He's totally amazing, dude! 'Cause he's like a mystery! Totally paranormal!"

"No, America, he isn't. You haven't noticed that … the guy that looks like you hasn't been carrying that white ball of breathing fur lately have you?"

The American froze, his head cocked to the side when a look of pure shock washed over his face. "OMGWTFBBQ! Dude you're right! Canadia hasn't been bringing him!" Alfred pulled a hamburger out of his bomber jacket, undid the wrapping and took a bite out of it, his face suddenly serious. "That baffles me…."

"… Alaska is the bear, America," Arthur announced with annoyance.

Alfred bit another chunck out of the burger. He spoke around the bites. "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, England?"

Arthur ripped the burger out the American's hand and plopped it into a nearby trash bin. He faced Alfred again with a face much more stern and angry than the one he was displaying only moments before.

"I turned the bear into a person. And I'm still bitter. I want it gone. I want my vengeance. And now that you know, you're going to help me."

WOW~! Sorry I made you guys wait so long! . I really am sorry!

So this chapter was actually supposed to be much longer and I apologize for cutting it off there for those of you who are disappointed but have no fear! I am going to update this till the end, when there are no more chapters and the story is over and everyone (including me) with be contempt!

And for those of your wondering, I did give Iceland a name, Frey, cause he doesn't have one, but Norway's name, Lukas, was actually an idealistic name given to him (unofficially) by Himaruya.

Thanks for reading this guys. I finished it with tired eyes and a possible stomach virus and now I'm going to eat some waffles because I DESPISE toaster pancakes :P So thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated!