Sorry for the long wait! Writer's block hit, among other things, and I wasn't able to write. I do truly apologize for that xD anywho, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. It is a little different, yes. I know it's kinda short, sorry but I wanted to end it that way. Ya know? So yeah... Warning: mention of Nyo!talia...

Canada groaned as he sat up, his head pounding violently, and hopped out of bed. Except, it wasn't as cheery as it sounded. The sunlight that flooded into the room burned Canada's eyes and he felt like he was going to fall over. Luckily, Russia was there to catch him.

"You okay, Matvey?" he asked while helping the Canadian regain his balance. The small blonde shook his head, groaning was the only thing Russia got in response. "I was right. You are a lightweight."

Canada glared at him and spoke, but his voice was rather hoarse. "Am not... Vodka is just... just... ugh" he grasped his head again, the throbbing pain interrupting his train of thought. Russia, now concerned for his Matvey's health, led him over to the shower.

"A shower will help, da?" he commented, turning the silver knobs to find the perfect temperature. Canada slowly walked over to the tiled shower and stuck his hand out to test the temptature himself. Russia took that as a cue to leave, so he exited the shared bedroom to the kitchen.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen, not knowing where to start. Breakfast would surely help Canada's situation, it normally helped Russia, but the Russian didn't know too many breakfast recipies. As for Canadian recipies, he only one and that was his Canadian's favourite: Pancakes. The last time he tried making them was not very successful. They were as black as coal, but Canada was still nice enough to help him through it. The comment 'It's okay, England's worse.' was a very confusing sentence for Russia. Sure, he wasn't the worst cook -no one is worse than England- but being compared to England wasn't comforting. However, after many times of watching the Canadian prepare and make those little breakfast cakes, Ivan had an idea of how to do it.

Canada stood under the shower head, letting the warm water rain down on his aching body. The water was quite comforting. He leaned against the tile wall, not yet awake enough to completely support his own weight. As he hung his head, he heard footsteps approaching. He assumed it was Ivan checking on him, so he didn't bother looking. However, as the sound got closer Canada furrowed his brow and listened closely. The pace was different, so was the sound. "Ivan?" he called out. "Is that you...?"

No reply.

The now paranoid Canadian felt his muscles go tense. Completely forgetting to turn off the water, he stepped out of the showe and looked around. Quickly grabbing a bathrobe that was hanging on the wall, Canada covered himself and sneaked into the bedroom.

No one was there.

Sounds of pots clinking in the kitchen and movement told Canada that Russia wasn't in the room with him. Maybe I was just imagining-

A fabric cloth.

It was held up against his mouth, as he gasped and tried to struggle against whoever it was that was behind him, Canada began to feel weak. More weak than when he first woke up. As he thrashed against the offending form, his final attempts with his draining consiousness, his galsses were knocked from his face. He began panting, and gasping for air. Blackness was creeping into his vision and his limps began going limp. Chloroform... He gasped mentally, anger boiled as he realized what was happening. His final though was voiced as he fell back against a body behind him.

"W-Why...?" he rasped before closing his eyes and completely getting lost in the darkness.

Russia finished flipping his final pancake, not as gracefully as Canada but he managed, and set it down on a plate. He hoped they were good. Many times he tried to remake Canada's little breakfast item but he ever seemed to get it right. This time, he hoped he was at least close. Just as he placed the plate down on the table, Russia noticed his Canadian wasn't at the table yet. He still heard the shower going and thought that Canada was taking awhile. Usually, he wouldn't mind but something was wrong this time.

Cautiously, Russia made his way to the bathroom. At a first glance, nothing appeared to be wrong, but Russia knew better. With his pipe at ready, he entered the bathroom. The water was still running but Canada was no where in sight. Panic began to creep into Russia's mind.

"Matvey?" he called. "...Matvey!" There was no response, and that made Russia's panic grow even more. That's when he noticed it. Laying on the floor, the lens smashed and broken, we're the Canadian's silver-framed glasses.

Russia rushed over to the small spectacles and picked them up. The small metal frame was bent. Canada always had his glasses on, the exception was when he slept, and he always took good care of them. The fact that they were broken and Canada wasn't anywhere in sight made Russia come to the conclusion that Canada was taken.

Taken...

Russia hated the word. He hated whoever took his Matvey. He hated the helplessness he felt. Many questions swirled around his head. Who was it? Where's Matvey? Why? How did I not know?

Out of the corner of his eye, Russia saw a white note on the floor next to the open window. He grabbed it up off the floor and read it. The neat writing, although it seemed menacing with it's message, stood out on the little piece of paper. 'Stay Away From Matthew...'

Russia re-read the note over and over again. This was happening. Someone took Canada, someone who didn't like Russia. His first thought was America but he brushed that one off his shoulder. Not only was his writing extremely messy, but the blonde had accepted their relationship. Russia wouldn't fool himself. Him and America weren't friends. The only reason America accepted this relationship was for Canada's sake. However, since he had accepted the fact that they were official a 'thing', America and Russia's relationship wasn't as rocky. So America was out.

Only a nations came to mind. Wait, was it even a nation? Russia ran a hand through his hair and grit his teeth. Maybe Belarus... No, since he told her off that one day, she hasn't interfered with Russia's relationship. If anything, Belarus has started falling for someone else. When he first found out about that, he was shocked. It was a pleasant surprise, knowng he didn't have to worry about her being clingy or violent. Then his brotherly side kicked in. Whoever this Nikolai guy was... He better not try anything funny. Russia bit the inside of his cheek, Belarus was not an option.

Who was it?!

Russia paced uneasily. He should have heard the intruder. He should have stopped whoever it was. He should have protected his love. Shoud've, but didn't. Guilt hit his heart, it felt like a thousand daggers piercing his soul. If Canada got hurt, it was his fault.

Russia felt anger burning through his veins. No, he would not let Canada get hurt. With surprising speed, he dashed out of the house and ran to a place he never expected to go. He knocked on the door and impatiently waited for it to be opened. When it did, the nation who opened the door stood surprised. His genuine surprise changed and the nation crossed his arms with a slight glare.

"What do you want, Commie?"

...

See? I hope that's a good ending. Anywho, I just wanted to add a little Male!Belarus in there because he is one of my fav characters. Nikolai (pronounced Nick-Oh-Lie) is the human name for Male!Belarus. Personally, I love Male!Belarus and I don't mind pairing him with regular Natalia. If you guys don't know him, you should look him up. He is quite... The interesting person. (Super hot *_* xD) Anyway... See you guys for next chapter!