I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING I AM HAVING REALLY BAD WRITER'S BLOCK; HOPEFULLY IT DOESN'T AFFECT MY WRITING!
Anyone who cheered for Alfred is about to hate me! Sorry, it really had to happen. Canada is unsure of what to do, England is a smarty pants, France bickers with America and America is overprotective as usual. The story goes on! Drop a review if you'd like (I appreciate feedback more than I usually admit) and just don't give up on this story just yet. I am over a month clean! *cheering in background* Well, uh… Read it I guess(:
Canada started to space out halfway through the movie, even though he was originally determined to stay focused. In Canada's delusion, if he could just smile through this vacation, then it'd be fine for him to go home, sleep, eat, cut and be alone again. It was quickly becoming a part of his normal lifestyle- to want to be alone, to want to isolate himself.
And now there were three people trying to "help" him. It felt more like a group of detectives, to him…
Canada shifted uneasily in England's embrace, moving onto his side and leaning into England's side comfortably. Matthew's fingers curled into England's shirt as his head rolled downwards, the light from the glowing television illuminating his pale features.
"Sorry… Stay… No…"
England felt his face melt into a picture of despair at Matthew's saddening words.
"Don't go..." Matthew whispered in his deep slumber, unbeknownst to the two- now bickering- nations a few feet away.
They were arguing, albeit quietly so they wouldn't wake poor Canada. Kumajirou settled on the floor, wanting more space to himself. His cream fur blended in with some of the decorations, much to America's surprise as he shifted his foot right into Kumajirou's rump. The two angry nations stopped for a moment, noticing Kumajirou on the floor. No one had even known he was here so far, so America had just assumed he went with Canada. France looked up and fumed, elbowing America and looking pointedly at the two cuddling nations.
Canada began to wake as the stomach pain from his anxiety grew more and more severe. His stomachaches were a peculiar occurrence. Many times, he would think that it was appendicitis or a similar medical problem that could be solved with surgery or medication. Little did he know, it was actually the beginnings of a stress-caused stomach ulcer. If left untreated, it could potentially kill him—even before he killed himself.
The pain from his stomach finally broke his slumber, and he woke up suddenly in someone's arms- not that it bothered him that much once he recognized the Earl Grey scent he inhaled. It was just England…
But then he noticed his left sleeve, where the fabric had risen up and the bandaging was clearly visible. It wasn't the first time he had been scared like this, but since he had just woken up and was still a bit groggy, his primal instinct kicked in and told him he was in danger. It also wasn't the first panic attack he'd had, so he recognized the symptoms beginning to flare up. Last time, though, he had passed out on his own.
Following Canada's eyes, England noticed that Canada pulled his sleeve down quickly.
"Matthew, if that was a sprain you wouldn't be hiding it from us."
Matthew peered through his eyelashes in shock. How long had England seen through his act? Had he always known? Was it best to just admit everything now rather than wait for them to discover it?
"Umm… Arthur, I—"
"Mattie, what's going on?" Alfred interrupted, sensing the tension beginning to swell between them. Matthew looked almost afraid of Arthur at the moment. That expression on Matthew's face angered Alfred. Matthew should never look upset, not while his heroic brother was around to save him! So why did he feel so useless in this situation?
If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream
Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken
Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide
Don't cry
Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping
Hello, I'm still here
All that's left of yesterday
Arthur stared Matthew down suspiciously, but not angrily. He wanted to understand, to be able to solve this problem that was hurting his precious Matthew.
But Alfred wouldn't have that. Not if it would hurt his Matthew. He dragged Arthur and Francis into the hall, leaving Matthew to sit, lethargic and unprepared for his emotional tidal wave.
I could seriously use a cut right now. I need it. More than I need air, more than I need water, more than I need… more than I need my friends..
If I don't cut now, I'll die, I think…
No… I won't die, but it hurts… it hurts to go without it now.
Alfred returned, tugging a frightened Arthur along with him. Francis could only stand, shocked, as Alfred took his place next to the Canuck.
"Let's watch some TV, 'kay?" Alfred's voice rang out in the room, echoing loudly and startling the Canadian next to him. His stronger voice was too often very frightening to Matthew, who enjoyed quiet afternoons over cups of tea, and movies that would seemingly become your world for the few hours of bliss that they provided. He liked people that liked solitude in numbers, if that was even possible. The peaceful, velvety, comfortable quiet evenings around a fire were appealing to the Canuck in an indescribable way.
Apparently, the show of the evening was Dr. Phil. Matthew sighed and tried to focus on the television show, even though it was almost painful to listen to it. The garbage excuses that people came up with for mistreating their children were mediocre at best. This show was about a teenager with depression. Matthew, whose curiosity was piqued by the title of the show, focused solely on the screen. It was a stereotypical depiction of a depressed teen, a girl with black fringe and the heavy eyeliner that had somehow become a fashion trend amongst the mentally unstable. This girl was being lectured by the man on screen, presumably her father, or at least father figure.
"You've been faking this little disease for too long, you little brat! Everyone knows you're just fishing for attention, and I will not tolerate this any longer!"
The girl on screen broke down in tears at the man's harsh accusation, smearing her artfully applied makeup down her cheeks in the process.
America only chuckled. Matthew glanced up, confused, and America uttered the phrase that would work its way into the very fibers of his being in the future.
"She's just acting… I bet every time someone looks at her she goes and cuts herself, the little emo. I've seen enough of those in my country, that's for sure."
Matthew gaped at the American. Self-harm was a sensitive topic for him, obviously, since he was actively self-harming and… fairly experienced with the topic…
"What are you saying?"
Alfred snapped his head from the screen in shock, saying. "I'm saying what's really happening here, that's all!"
"I wish she was a resident in Canada then, since you don't seem to care what happens to her. She could easily die doing this to herself. Look at her! She's unstable, and don't you dare try to convince me that she's faking it. Her father probably forced her to go here, to humiliate her more than he already does at home."
Now it was America's turn to gape. Canada didn't react this way unless it was a really important topic to him.
"B-but—"
"I need to sleep. Goodnight, Francis, Arthur. I'll be going to bed now."
Matthew turned and left without another word. He brushed his teeth angrily, looking at the reflection he was forced to live with.
Alfred was still shocked at Matthew's sudden outburst. It had been a long time since he had gotten that angry. Arthur appeared next to Alfred, offering some information that may help their dilemma.
I believe in you and me
I'm coming to find you
If it takes me all night
Wrong until you make it right
And I won't forget you
At least I'll try
And run, and run tonight
Everything will be alright
Arthur pulled Francis over as well, and they were soon seated in a triangle formation, none of them wanting to admit anything.
Arthur finally sighed in resignation and offered his own knowledge.
"When I went to visit him a few days before we decided to come here, he had some extensive bandaging on his arm that he explained as simply "a sprain" of sorts. I believed him then. But now, it's gotten to the point where I need to know what is going on with that arm of his."
Alfred thought out loud (as usual?) and said, "And today, he was defensive of that girl on the show... What exactly was wrong with her again?"
"Well, she had depression and, from the looks of it, an anxiety disorder to top it all off."
"What was she wearing?"
"Long sleeves. Long enough to cover her hands, probably…"
"And then you made the comment about her cutting herself, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
"You really aren't making the connection here, are you?"
Alfred stopped short for a moment, processing the new addition of information. Then he looked up in horror at Arthur.
"You… Y-you can't mean that he—"
"If I didn't mean it, I wouldn't have said it, Alfred, and right now isn't the time to be disappointed in Matthew. He needs us a lot more than we had originally thought."
Little did they know, Matthew was listening in from the other side of the closed door to their room, and was having a full-blown panic attack, hyperventilation and all.
In… Out… Fuck, I messed it up again… They know! They all know! How did that happen, why now? This is supposed to be a relaxing vacation with three people that supposedly love me now…
Everything's turned to shit because of me.
I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here now.
Canada turned sharply, ignoring the pangs of guilt blooming in his abdomen, and frantically re-packed his stuff. His suitcase was overstuffed by the time he forced all his belongings into it, but he didn't care. As long as he could get out of France, and get out now, then he'd be safe.
Canada made an obvious show of walking in so that he didn't surprise the three that were talking about him. He leaned over to Kumajirou, picking him up gently and cradling him in his arms.
"I'll be going to bed now. Who's sharing the bed with me tonight?"
Alfred loudly declared that he would be sharing the bed and Arthur is not allowed, and the two sulked off to the mattress. Matthew knew what he had to do this time, and he had a feeling he had known the whole time. It was time to end the fantasy he'd indulged himself in for the short- albeit wonderful- time so far.
It was time to abolish all of his ties to the three that brought him down in the first place. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to regret any of this. His time with them had been sweet; they'd cared for him like he always wished they had.
As America finally plopped onto the mattress, Canada allowed a single tear to run down his face. Somehow, he'd managed to ruin everything- his blissful secret, his temporary joy with his "family", and even the relaxing vacation he was supposed to be enjoying. He didn't see America's face crumple with guilt. He didn't see America let a tear of his own escape his bright eyes.
Or… He pretended not to see. If he let America know he was feeling guilty, America would want to question him.
Quite frankly, he wasn't ready for it yet.
America wrapped his arms around Canada, drifting off to sleep almost immediately. Canada chuckled under his breath at how easy this would be now that he knew America was an immediate and a heavy sleeper.
Canada attempted to slip out of America's grip, but America wasn't having any of that. He pulled Canada flush against him and sighed contentedly as he drifted back into a light sleep. Canada sighed, this time a little more frustrated with America.
America was making it harder to leave than it should have been, and now he almost felt like America subconsciously wanted him to stay, almost like he recognized that it was his brother and wanted him to be near him.
It made him sad, but he knew it was best. He rolled himself out of America's grip and started to get up slowly, ignoring the familiar throbbing ache in his head.
"Where do you think you're going?"
As an apology for the long breaks between updates, I made an extra long chapter. I know this story sucks but if you have the time to review it that would be lovely.
Review responses:
Leona 'Jay' Jasmin: Thank you! I'm sorry to hear about that disorder, although having something like that makes it easier to understand these things :D
Always gotta stay positive, you know? And yes, depressing stories always draw me in as well, it's like there's a magnet drawing me to it.
Kittycatpony: I'm sorry to keep you waiting once again! I swear I'll be on schedule from now on (:
TheLastofUs: I am so happy to hear that from you, I mean, you're an amazing and a talented writer so I guess it's just really significant to get praise from a really good writer :D
KingofAWESOME: Thank you! I will update sooner this time.
Ryu Nitram Captor: Thanks for reviewing! I like family night as well :D and everyone will recover eventually haha :D
Saiyanpelt: OMG I'M PROBABLY BEING OVERDRAMATIC BUT I ALMOST PEED MYSELF WHEN I READ YOUR REVIEW I think "cuh-rack" is what did it for me, I just lost it right there. And you should publish your writing :D I'd love to read it.(:
NarwhalOfDoom: I REALLY HONESTLY IMAGINED THAT SCENE AND FANGIRLED RIGHT THERE BOTH OF THOSE SCENARIOS ARE PERF.
The sleeve-rolling was an option for the scene at hand, but I really wanted to keep it slow-paced since the "family" can be pretty dense at times… plus England knows it would scare Canada off :D
Guest: Don't worry, I won't kill your boyfriend… Yet…
And as for France, right now it seems like he's pretty dull and, quite frankly, a useless character, but I can assure you that he won't go unnoticed for my story. There's a reason I put him there that I won't yet reveal! :D
England is England, I love him so. Is that obvious in my writing? I mean, I love all the countries. It's just that England always struck me as the fatherly type! :DDDD