Hm...reason this is late? Well, my readers, shit happens. Yes and it happens a lot and at the same time.
Anyway, wow we're already at our first milestone! Chapter 10! :D
About this chapter, I had a lot of issues with it. I think I switched it around at least 5 times while I wondered how I should word it and what should happen. It was actually almost two small chapters before I decided to take a good pointless chunk out of it. I'm glad how it turned out though! It won't have to drag on for an obnoxiously long time now! Yay! :D;
Thank you guys for all of the reviews and support! It makes my day~ 8D
Please enjoy this chapter, things defiantly go for a twist here~
Disclaimer: Ffffff I don't frickin' own Hetalia! D8
Warnings: Eh...slight language.
It was the next morning after the mass game of Truth or Dare and Matthew didn't think he had ever felt better than there at that moment.
The sky was blue and the sun was shining above him as he skated figure eights on the ice. Sure, it was still maybe only 17 degrees out (but even that was an improvement compared to last week's below zero temperature) but the air was clear and each icy breath felt refreshing as it rushed into his system.
Yes, the weather was nice but there was also the fact that he had gotten a good night's sleep the night before. Despite being locked up in the rotting remains of Cabin 8, he had slept in the warm and strong arms of none other that Gilbert Beilschmidt and it had been really...nice. Yes, nice was a good word to describe it. Even now he could almost feel the steady heartbeat of the Prussian that had engraved it's feeling on his back and his slightly musky smell with a hint of alcohol was still in his hair where Gilbert had rested his head. He had slept soundly like this until Gilbert started to snore, waking him with a start. Oh and the drool on his shoulder hasn't been all that pleasant.
None the less, despite all odds, things were actually happening between him and Gil. Not to say that Gilbert hadn't ever dropped by his house in the middle of the night with a blood alcohol level that exceed at least three times the legal limit, demanded to share his bed, and had occasionally pulled the Canadian to him during a strange dream or two but...this time...this time it seemed like things had actually been serious, like it hadn't all been a big joke. (And the fact that Gilbert hadn't been under the influence defiantly helped this theory.)
Matthew's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud and long growling coming from his stomach. He had been so busy thinking about the night before that his stomach (which was begging for food) had gone completely unnoticed. Figuring that it was about time he grabbed some breakfast (and gave the ice a break), Matthew skated back towards the shore and walked back towards his cabin. He stepped inside only momentarily to change into his boots when he saw Alfred still sleeping in his top bunk. Matthew reached up to toss one of his skates on top of the sleeping American in which he received an irritated groan.
"Come on Alfred, breakfast should be ready by now." Again, only grumbles returned from under a mass of blankets covering the stubborn nation's face. Matthew rolled his eyes and continued, "If you're not coming than I'll be forced to talk with someone else. Maybe Ivan perhaps? I'm sure he would have more than enough to talk about."
Thankfully, in Alfred's dazed and sleepy state of mind, he didn't recognize that there was no way in hell that Matthew would ever voluntarily support conversation with the Russian. It was alright though, considering he was finally pulling off the blankets and searching for clean clothes.
"Matthew I swear-"
"Hurry up then, I can't wait much longer."
Yes. It was fun to be the teasing brother occasionally.
"Yo Mattie check this out!"
As the two of approached the Mess Hall, they could see a very prominent and colorful poster was taped to the large wooden doors. Even without being able to read the black lettering from a distance, Matthew could already tell what it was about and as he approached close enough to read, it was clear.
Winter Dance~!
The second of four, fun filled year-time dances!
When: December 31st: 7:00-12:00
Location: Mess Hall.
Food and drinks will be served as well as loud music!
This is a formal dance so please dress appropriately. (This means you, Gilbert.)
Right before the dance ends there will be a fireworks display to celebrate the New Year!
Don't miss it!
Matthew found himself smiling as he read the poster. Things had turned out fun during the last dance so this one should be even more so. (Also he didn't have to string lights on the Watch Tower in freezing temperatures which was a plus.)
"Sounds sweet! Can't wait!" Alfred exclaimed, grinning broadly. The American then paused to sniff the air and a satisfied smile appeared on his lips, "I smell bacon!" And with that, the doors were pushed open and the two North American brothers joined the breakfast crew.
After filling a plate (or in Alfred's case, four plates) the two sat down at their typical table and, like when the Fall Dance poster had been posted, the nations were discussing said dance.
"Ah wonderful~" Francis said, rubbing the gruff stubble on his chin, "Another dance! Maybe it will be as satisfactory as the last, oui?" he then shot a suggestive raise of the eyebrow at the Englishman sitting next to him. Arthur grumbled to himself darkly, face tinting red.
"B-Bloody Frog..."
"At least it's fucking inside this time. Last time I was freezing my ass off!" Lovino grumbled, poking at his eggs with an irritable look on his face. Antonio cocked his head to the side and took a quick sip of orange juice.
"Ah, I wasn't doing a good job of keeping you warm?" the Spaniard looked thoroughly disappointed.
"No dammit."
"Hm...Oh! Maybe next time we shouldn't make love behind the-"
"FUCKING D-DAMMIT SPAIN!" Antonio had to move his head quickly to the left when a fork barely whizzed passed his face.
"...Ahahaha...ha~ So cute~"
Matthew was expecting some sort of comment from Gilbert at this point and the fact that the table still remained quiet besides the clinking of silverware and the slight pant in Lovino's breath was an obvious sign that the Prussian wasn't present. Another glance around at the table assured him of this.
"Has anyone seen Gilbert?" Matthew asked. The only person who looked up was Francis (for Alfred was too preoccupied with his beloved food to answer).
"Ah yes, I believe he was out by "Gilbomb"."
"Geez he's messed up I tell yah." Alfred added after (painfully) swallowing his food, "To spend hours in the snow for something that will take 20 seconds."
"I don't know...sounds a lot like the kind of stuff my brother does." Matthew added, smiling to himself.
"Shut up Matt." Alfred pouted, taking another bite before talking again, "How big is it now anyway?"
"Approximately nine feet by nine feet."
"..."
There was a silence as everyone glanced over to look at the brother of the German in question. It was rare that Ludwig ever spoke up during breakfast if it wasn't to scold Gilbert.
"You would know that fucking potato bastard."
"Aw Fratello be nice~"
"He's the one who-!"
"ATTENTION!" The room suddenly went quite as the typical morning scene repeated itself. Elizabeta took her stand on top of the middle table, hands on her hips and a grin on her face, "I expect you have all seen the poster for the upcoming Winter Dance! Now we are-"
There was suddenly a loud thud at the doors to the Mess Hall, interrupting Elizabeta's speech. Matthew, as well as the rest of the nations, looked over curiously to see Gilbert's slightly breathless figure standing in the doorway, the doors swinging closed behind him.
"Gilbomb's ready to launch. Come outside for the awesomeness!" And with that, the Prussian disappeared outside into the snow once more. There was a slight pause in which all of the nations simply sat in silence, eyes still focused on the doors. Then Matthew found himself standing up as the others began to to file out of the Mess Hall. Like Matthew had said before, the construction of Gilbomb had become a sort of camp phenomenon and anyone would be a fool to miss the infamous launch.
Matthew stood in the crowd now lining the main path and he looked up to see Gilbert at the main entrance, an eager look on his face. Matthew had to admit, the whole idea intrigued him even if it was completely pointless.
"Prepare to be destroyed by the awesomeness that is Prussia!" Gilbert's voice drifted down to the group and Matthew looked over to see Ivan standing among them, a soft (but frighteningly sinister) smile on his lips.
All eyes were focused on Gilbert again as the Prussian began to remove the stakes that keep the giant boulder in place. It defiantly looked intimidating, Matthew would give it that. Like Ludwig had said, it had to be at least 9 feet tall as well as 9 feet across and Matthew assumed that over the days to build it, it had condensed to hard ice instead of soft snow. He wouldn't be surprised if it weighed over 200 pounds.
...Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...
But there was no stopping it now as Gilbert removed the final stake and Gilbomb was sent rolling down towards the snow army. It started out as a slow crawl but eventually accelerated to an alarmingly fast speed and in less than four seconds of being launched, it had already zoomed past the crowd of nations. Matthew followed it as it made its way on its path to the dead center of the snow army.
Then things took a turn for the worse.
The boulder fell into a dip in the path and it's course suddenly changed from straight on to curved slightly to the right and, to Matthew's horror, it was now heading in the direction of the cabins. In specifically, his cabin.
Matthew didn't know what to do. It's not like he could do anything to stop it. All he could do was sit and watch as Gilbomb hurdled towards Cabin 1.
20 feet...10 feet...5 feet...Matthew shut he eyes as the boulder was only feet away and-
There was a loud thud but besides that, he heard nothing. Matthew slowly risked peeking an eye open and breathed an exasperated sigh of relief when he saw Gilbomb stopped in its line of destruction by the large pine that stood strong beside his cabin.
A smile actually appeared on his face as he thought back on it. What had he been so worried about? It's not like the boulder could have done any serious damage if it had hit the sturdy cabin. It-
But the thoughts as well as the smile on the Canadian's face suddenly froze as the terrible sound of splintering wood broke through the silence. Matthew watched in pure horror as the tree trunk split completely down the middle, sending shards of wood flying, and the half closest to Cabin 1 began to fall to the ground.
This can't be happening.
But it was. And it did. In a matter of seconds (though to Matthew, it had seemed like years) the tree had broken through the cabin roof like a knife through butter and collapsed onto the wood floor, shattering the glass in all of the windows. Things only went downhill from there when the wood panels that lined the roof began to fall apart, bringing down half of what remained of the supposedly sturdy roof.
Silence filled the entire camp. A suffocating and dead silence in which none of the nations breathed, the birds held in their song and the wind ceased to blow through the trees. If anyone had walked in at that moment, they would have sworn they had walked right into a still picture. The only sounds that broke through the silence were the tinkling of broken glass and the occasion plank of wood joining the others on the ground.
Matthew couldn't even bring himself to yell, cry, punch something...or...anything. It was like his body had seen everything that happened but his mind wasn't willing to accept it. As the murderously slow seconds passed him by, however, he was starting to realize.
Gilbomb had brought its wrath...and taken Cabin 1 with it.
"Ah! I think I got something!" Alfred pulled out a dusty looking suitcase from the wreckage and examined it, "Um…I think this is yours Mattie!"
Matthew glanced over from his sitting position on whatever remained of the porch. Noticing the maple leaf on the front he nodded and took it, "Yeah that's mine." He looked through its contents and found that yes, everything was there. Okay. His clothes had been saved but there was still that one thing. The one thing he was waiting for them to find.
Francis came out from underneath the collapsed doorway next, holding another two small suitcases in both hands, ducking to avoid hitting his head on one of the dangling panels, "Ah I believe I've gotten the Italy brother's suitcases. They seem to be in good shape as well."
Feliciano looked up from where he was sitting on the step below Matthew and a small smile broke across his face. He sniffed a couple times and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, "Veh, thanks Big Brother France~"
Lovino grumbled and tried to nonchalantly wipe his eyes as well, "Yeah whatever Fuckface." It was a pretty sincere thank you coming from the older of the Italies and Francis looked satisfied as he set them beside the pile of items Alfred, Francis, Ludwig, Arthur, and Antonio could pick out from the broken remains of what used to be Cabin 1.
Unlike Matthew, everyone else seemed to have some sort of reaction. Feliciano had burst into tears (not that it took that much to bring him to tears, but still). Alfred's expression had changed many times during the entire ordeal for he couldn't seem to decide whether or not to be angry or amused. Lovino had gone into some sort of rage in which he cursed to the High Heavens at Gilbert and had to be held back but a quick-thinking Spaniard before he did some damage. Speaking of Gilbert…
Matthew glanced over and saw Gilbert was still at the camp entrance, sitting in the snow, head facing their direction. Matthew watched as the Prussian slowly put his head in his hands and inhaled deeply. Matthew knew that Gilbert hadn't intended for any of this to happen but somewhere buried beneath the aftershock that was still clouding his mind, he would be pissed if what Gilbert did did something to it. If it did something to his hockey stick. It was his most prized possession. He had beaten Alfred with it at Vancouver and it hadn't failed him since. Matthew didn't think of it as just some piece of wood, but as a companion. It was a better companion than Kumawhatsit who couldn't even remember his name after all. If it didn't come out of the wreckage in one piece he swore that-
"Uh…Mattie…?" Alfred spoke up hesitantly, his voice drifting to Matthew's ear from somewhere in the remains, "I found your hockey stick." The Canadian could hear the hesitation in his brother's voice and that typically only meant one thing. Bad news. Really really bad news. Matthew almost didn't want to turn around when he heard Alfred's footsteps coming onto the porch.
But he did anyway.
Alfred wore a solemn expression as he held the shattered remains of what used to be Matthew's hockey stick. Anyone who would have seen them would have thought they were just some woods scraps. No matter how hard Matthew searched for possibilities, there wasn't any way of fixing it. Like Cabin 1, it was gone for good.
"It uh…" Alfred swallowed hard, seeing the dreading look in Matthew's eyes, "It was right in the line of the tree. There was no way it could have made it…" The American nation slowly reached across to dump the splinters into Matthew's lap and turned to Francis who appeared at his side.
"Ah how terrible, Mathieu. I'm sorry."
Matthew was just shaking his head; the aftershock cloud was drifting away and was replaced with anger. A rage that he had only felt a couple times before. Though on the outside Matthew looked relatively composed, he was boiling over and just about ready to explode. Just one more straw…
And then Gilbert decided to join the party. He slowly walked over through the snow until he was amongst the others. The Prussian peered past the group and cringed when he saw Cabin 1 and winced at the tinkling of broken glass.
"Hey how's it-" but he didn't get to say much else because Matthew had gotten to his feet and made his way over in front of him, "Oh Mattie I…"
"Shut up." Gilbert looked perplexed at the dark tone in the usually mellow Canadian.
"Uh Mattie what are you-" Matthew then suddenly shoved all of the splintered pieces of wood against the Prussian's chest with one forceful push. Gilbert nearly fell over at the sudden attack and stumbled backwards, some of the shards of wood falling from his arms.
"Geez what the hell was that for!" he said, frowning until he glanced up to see Matthew's face, tears running down his cheeks and into the snow. It kind of freaked him out, honestly. He had never seen Matthew cry before. Well maybe from one of his awesome jokes were he laughed so hard he cried, but not like this, not when Matthew looked so damn…devastated. It was scary, seeing the Canadian so worked up like this, to hear his gasps while he sobbed and tried to breathe at the same time.
Damn he had really fucked up.
"H-H-Happy with yourself?" Matthew stuttered between sniffs had he tried to control he unbelievably runny nose, "You r-really screwed up this time."
"Yeah! Because I tried to do all this!" Gilbert shot back sarcastically. Come on. He knew Matthew was upset and all and his was kinda his fault but it's not like he had meant for this to happen!
"You destroyed our cabin!" Matthew yelled, becoming louder with each word.
"Yeah and I'm fucking sorry okay? Geez you have to calm down it's-"
"And my hockey stick!" Gilbert paused and raised an eyebrow and to everyone's surprise, actually let out a chuckle.
"Your hockey stick? Come one…that's what you're upset about? A piece of wood? Just buy a new one!" Gilbert laughed again but slowly quieted his laughter had he saw the look in Matthew's eyes. The cold as stone look in his eyes that pierced him right through the chest, "Hey…Matthew what-?"
"Don't talk to me." The Canadian turned around and began walking towards the lake, stumbling slightly as he did.
"Are you kidding me Matt? What the hell-"
"I SAID DON'T TALK TO ME!" Everything went silent just as when the tree had coming crashing down on Cabin 1. Never had they ever heard the Canadian yell with such hurt and anger in his voice. Matthew's teary violet eyes held with Gilbert's scarlet ones for a long time. Gilbert wanted to look away but he found it impossible. That hard stare was suffocating and the Prussian actually started to pant.
Then Matthew turned back around and continued towards the lake, leaving Gilbert gasping for air.
Yeah. He had really really fucked up.
DOOM.
Oh God I suck at writing dramatic scenes like that. FFFFT SORRY! ;A;
So yes, I have added a twist to World Camp mwhahahaha...ha..ah..
Anyway, sorry if there are any mistakes. I looked the whole thing over but there still might be more. I'm telling you..one day I will sit down and go through ALL of the chapters and check them over. I swear! *cough*
Next update in the next two weeks or so if I can get "A Trip To Spain Could Only End In..." up by this Saturday.
Reviews are always appreciated! :D