Dro: I lied! There's one more chapter after this! I knew when I hit 5.2k and no one had been sent back home yet that I was in trouble. Oops. Anyway. You have another chapter to look forward to! And I promise, that will be the last one.

Chapter Summary: The aftermath.

Warnings: None.

Disclaimer: Dro will never, ever, never, ever, never...you get the point, right?

Alfred didn't wake up for two and a half months.

Ludwig remembered the day "it" happened very clearly. He'd come back from getting himself properly stitched up just in time to hear that Feliciano was fine, just in time to hear that Matthew, while in critical condition, would live, just in time to hear that the other Alfred, while possibly suffering from mild motor impediments, would eventually completely recover from his head injury. Then he'd rounded that corner, looking for Alfred to tell him the good news. And what he'd found…

The image of the unconscious America, poison slicking his hand, motionless, not breathing, not living…how could it be that they'd killed Russia and the man had still managed to mortally wound another person afterward? What other traps had that monster hidden? Was Moscow rigged to explode too? Was there some kind of world doomsday device laying in wait somewhere to bring their finally peaceful world grinding to a halt as it tried to recover?

He'd sat by Alfred's bedside every day. Arthur and the still recovering other Alfred had tried time and time again to get him to agree to go home. Arthur was more than willing to send him home at any time, but Ludwig, despite his heart aching for nothing more than to see Feliciano and get his life back on track, couldn't let himself do it. He couldn't leave Alfred here like this. It wasn't fair. Alfred had been the one to kill Russia. Alfred had saved this world. And it was very possible that Alfred would have…permanent damage when he awoke. How could Ludwig justify leaving him in this world? He trusted the others, of course, but this was the Alfred of his world, and he felt an obligation to stay with the man. Alfred had come to save him from this place. And he would do his best to repay Alfred for that.

So he sat there for the same two-hour slot every single day, sometimes watching Alfred silently, sometimes reading the news or watching TV. This world was slowly beginning to blossom again. Without their leader, the other Soviet states had been left confused and disoriented. The resistance army had quickly overtaken them. Yao had given up without a single shot being fired, and he'd managed to exonerate himself from any guilt by giving generous aid to the slowly recovering Europe. He wouldn't be getting any passes on the international level anytime soon. Aid. Trade. Acceptance. But Ludwig had to admit, Yao had still managed to work this outcome toward his favor.

Those who had been forced into Soviet servitude were freed. All of the Nordics reclaimed their countries in triumph. All the refugee and in-hiding nations of Europe returned to the surface to breathe free air. For some, however, it was a solemn moment. Elizaveta had returned to Hungary only to be faced with a devastated population and the weight of a completely destroyed Austria on her shoulders. But she was still working her hardest. For Roderich, if for nothing else. Feliks had had to deal with a amnesia-wracked Lithuania emerging from his coma. He was slowly remembering, bit by bit, but it was unlikely he'd ever completely recover his memories. Now well enough to travel again, the pair of them had returned to Poland to help with the reconstruction efforts.

The others had also dispersed. Some had been assigned to look over the countries whose nations had died. Russia had managed to kill so many of them that there weren't enough nations to go around now. As the countries with dead nations started to build themselves up again, however, they all knew that new nations would be emerging. Scouts were constantly on the lookout for new nation children. Several had already been found in South America and Africa. Russia had burned one world to the ground, but a new one would rise from the ashes. That much was certain.

The other Alfred, now almost completely recovered from his head injury, had headed home to America for the first time in several months. Most of the country was still uninhabitable and would be for years, but several large areas had been spared the worst of the nuclear bombing and were thankfully, salvageable. As the news of the USSR's defeat spread across the world and the announcement that America was rebuilding reached the ears of its refugees, people began to pour back over the border, rekindling the spark of growth of the once proud nation. It, too, would recover in time. A long time. But it would.

Arthur was rebuilding on the ruins of his capital, his exiled people slowly beginning to trickle back into its borders. He was also watching over France now. Watching. And waiting. Waiting for the new nation to emerge that would replace his long time friend. Ludwig knew just how badly the man's betrayal had hurt Arthur, but he also knew Arthur could never forsake the friendship that they'd had. He would take care of this new France. And that was that.

There was only one other person that stayed in Moscow with him. And that was Matthew. One of the shots had grazed his spinal cord and paralyzed him, and he was currently in a wheelchair. He, however, had lived, and with his country recovering very quickly—much faster than many others—it was unlikely he would be in that chair for very long. He was already going through physical therapy, slowly regaining the use of his legs. It would be a grueling recovery, but he would make it through. It wasn't his paralysis that concerned Ludwig. It was the extent to which the boy went to be near Alfred's side. He's gotten too attached. He'd tell himself all the time. He's going to get himself severely hurt when Alfred leaves. Ludwig wasn't blind. He could see the affection the boy had for his world's Alfred, and while he couldn't guess the extent of it, he could guess its origins. He wasn't ignorant to the way that Arthur and Alfred's relationship tended to exclude the other boy. This Alfred, on the other, didn't have another Arthur—at least not one in this world—and therefore, had more attention to place on Matthew.

Ludwig had often wondered just how they were both going to get out of this without emotional scars. Alfred would have to break this Matthew's heart, and he would have to….

And that was another thing.

Feliciano.

Feliciano and Lovino had returned to Italy soon after the fall of Russia. At the first meeting of the world's nations after the Soviet defeat had been confirmed, most of the nations present had completely antagonized the Italy brothers. Ludwig couldn't deny that it was for good reason. Almost all the nations that had died in this war with Russia had died at the hands of the brothers. It was a hard thing to look past. They wouldn't execute them, no, because they had switched sides and they had helped defeat Russia. But the nations of the world would not rest until they punished the brothers for what they had done. Especially Romano. When the world had discovered that the man had so horribly betrayed and emotionally destroyed his own brother, the outraged nations had almost decided to kill him right then and there. It had been Feliciano that held them back.

Feliciano had asked them to let him share the blame, and while the nations obviously bore so much more hatred toward Romano than him, they had let him do so. They weren't in prison—at least, not yet—but once the world got back on its feet, the fate of the brothers wasn't really much of a mystery. The thought of Feliciano rotting away in prison frustrated Ludwig. There was nothing he could do anymore. This was no longer his fight. It had never really been. And it wouldn't be the moment Alfred woke up. Because then they would leave.

Or so he thought.

When Alfred woke up those two and a half months later, it became painfully obvious that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Arthur could have sent them both home then, but it was a major risk with Alfred's condition. First and foremost, the poison had damaged his brain. His memories were fragmented and scattered, and he would often become incredibly confused, lost in the middle of sentences, forgetting where he was going in the middle of going there. His hands shook from motor damage. His heart was still weak and occasionally erratic. He was in no condition to travel to another dimension. So instead of instantly calling up Arthur to send them home, Ludwig rented an apartment building and settled down in Moscow. He'd asked for a job to help the recovery, and they'd given him one without a second glance.

Today, he sat in the living room of his apartment, reading over papers about shipments of aid to the Baltics. Ah, that was another thing. Eduard's body had been found not long after the resistance forces moved to occupy Moscow. Now that burden had also fallen on the still-fatigued Feliks. Thankfully, Latvia had not been harmed, and he was safely back in his home country. Shaking his head for the millionth time in a week at the mess this world was still in, he signed a few of the papers and stuck them in an envelope so he could drop them off at the shipment distribution center later.

His phone rang. He crossed the threshold into his tiny kitchen and swiped the ringing mobile off of his counter. "Ludwig." He answered.

It was Matthew. "Hey, Ludwig. I have some good news! Al got a big chunk of his memory back a few minutes ago."

"Good to hear." It wasn't time for him to visit Alfred, who was still staying in the hospital for rehab, but perhaps he would go early today. He glanced at the pile of papers. He had plenty of time to finish them. Grabbing his coat off the rack, he started heading for the stairs. "I'm heading over to you right now. Perhaps we should have a special dinner to celebrate?"

"That sounds great! He's practically begging for hamburgers!" Matthew chuckled.

"Sounds like the Alfred I know."

He flicked off the light in his apartment and let the door close behind him.

That segment of memory was the first in a long line. After that moment, it was as if something clicked. Alfred started rapidly regaining everything he'd forgotten. Things seemed to be reordering themselves in his brain. His hands started shaking less. He confusion slowly started disappearing, and the vibrant clarity of the former America started to return. Four months after Alfred woke up, he was almost completely recovered. Some spots in his mind were still hazy. Sometimes, his fingers would slip up a bit. But he was rapidly returning to a state of perfect health. And along with him, so was Matthew.

Matthew was on his feet again. His legs would quickly tired if he tried to go long distances, but he could make his way from room to room and down the hall and back again, and they all knew he would be back to his former self in no time. Just like the rest of this world, he was recovering. And recovery was the goal of this entire world. Ludwig couldn't think of a time in the past when he'd every seen the world so united in a single cause. Recover. Rebuild. Move on. They'd suffered a trauma so intense, it would probably resound throughout many generations of humanity, and it would be carved into the history books forever. But that trauma had ushered in a period of peace in the world. The nations of this world would cooperate with one another for many years to come.

The elevator dinged as it reached the bottom floor, and a tickle of a memory best left buried brushed against Ludwig's mind. As the doors parted, he was greeted with the sight of a disgruntled Arthur, who was being swarmed with attendants shoving papers in his face, and an Alfred trying to fend said attendants off. The two pairs of eyes landed on them as they stepped out of the elevator.

"Ludwig. How're you doing?" The other Alfred asked him, smiling.

"I'm well. And you?"

He put up two thumbs. "Got the new government installed and everything."

"Glad to here it." America had rapidly been recovering its strength. It had a different capital now, a different population, different cities, and slightly different ideals. But it was still America. And its recovery was a beacon of hope to the world.

Arthur shuffled by him wordlessly as he chatted with the other Alfred, and he watched the man out of the corner of his eye as he hugged Matthew and his own Alfred tightly. He didn't miss how Arthur lingered on the latter just a second longer. And neither did Matthew. Ludwig sighed inwardly. This wasn't the day he wanted to dwell on the relationship problems that the two Alfreds, Arthur, and Matthew had with one another. As he finished speaking with the other Alfred, the man ushered him out the door behind the other three. Today, they were having a celebratory lunch.

Because today, they were leaving.

It had been a long road and a full nine months, but they were finally going home. He could only hope the world hadn't forgotten them. He knew that was a ludicrous thought. Of course the world hadn't forgotten two of its nations. It wasn't really that idea that caught him up. It was the way he was slowly forgetting his own world. All his memories were intact, unlike Alfred's, but it wasn't the memories that were getting to him. It was the routine. He'd been here so long that this world was normal and mundane and…dare he say it, home. He'd lived in this place for nine months. He'd watched and helped it end a true world war and take down an oppressive dictator. He'd watched and helped it begin to recover from the devastation inflicted upon it. He'd unintentionally become a part of this world. He'd spent so long insisting he wasn't truly a part of this place, but that was a lie now.

It would hurt to leave. But it would also hurt to stay.

He shook his head at his conflicted feelings.

"Something wrong?" The other Alfred asked. They were just walking down the street to a restaurant Ludwig had been to many times now. He knew the owners personally. He knew the people of this world.

"I'm okay. It's just…" He trailed off, unsure how to explain this to someone who couldn't possible understand it. And yet somehow, he did.

"You've become so used to living here that it seems foreign to go home, haven't you?"

"Exactly."

The other Alfred patted his shoulder. "It'll be okay, Ludwig. Trust me. Just remember how terribly your loved ones at home must be missing you. You belong there. And don't get me wrong, now, we love having you here. But you need to go home. I know if Arthur got transported to another dimension, I'd be scared every minute of every day until I got him back. I wouldn't be able to rest. The people of your world, Ludwig…they have to be feeling the same way. So you need to return." He squeezed Ludwig's shoulder gently.

Ludwig smiled back at him. "I know." But unlike at the start of this journey, when he'd been more eager than anything to return to his world, to his Feliciano, to his brother, to his life…leaving now would hurt. Leaving these people would hurt. But that was okay, he knew. Because returning to his world would absolve more pain than it would cause. And that's what mattered to him the most.

Alfred woofed down his burger and slurped at his drink. His other self followed his example, mocking Arthur's chastising, and they both laughed afterward. He was finally going home today, to his own Arthur. He thought back to the past several months. Most of it was a blur of confusion and smudged memories. Ivan had gotten one last laugh on him, and it had cost him nearly a year. Bastard. He wondered—not for the first time—how he would face his own Ivan at home now. He'd shot the man in the head in this world after a fight to the death. That would most certainly impact how he viewed and treated Ivan. There was no way he could pretend something wasn't different, even if he could somehow manage to keep the secret of what had happened in this place.

His reverie was interrupted by Matthew pushing his chair out and excusing himself, saying he had to use the restroom. His hand brushed Alfred's shoulder, and Alfred immediately knew where this was going. During his long recovery, Matthew had been exceedingly patient with him, not mentioning anything about the relationship he desperately wanted to have with Alfred, but once his memories had come back, and he knew just how Matt felt about him…well, guilt wasn't a strong enough world. Today, he would be leaving Matt, who was desperately in love with him. It had always been set to end this way. Neither had ever questioned that. But to actually go through with it…

Alfred had acknowledged his feelings now for good. He loved Arthur. His own Arthur. And while he loved Matt on a completely different standard to a completely different degree, he couldn't lead Matt on like this. Today, he would make sure Matt knew how he felt, and while he knew it would irreparably hurt his brother, he also knew it was better than leaving and letting Matt pine away for him, shifting his unreturned and unnoticed attention back on his other self. Matt needed to move on. He needed to turn around and look at new horizons. He needed to get himself off this path of emotional destruction.

So he stood up and pushed his chair back, excusing himself too.

Matt was waiting for him in the ally behind the restaurant. It wasn't the ideal place for this to go down (then again, if Matt started beating him up for this…), but it would have to do. As soon as the door shut behind him, Matt was on him, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him into a desperate, searing kiss. He let the other man kiss him passively, not bothering to accept or reject Matt's advances. After a moment, the younger man pulled away.

"Al?"

"Matt…"

Alfred saw it as Matt peeled away his façade, revealing the pain underneath. And before Matt even spoke, Alfred already knew what he was going to say.

"I know you love Arthur."

Alfred swallowed, but Matthew met his eyes head on with something akin to resignation. "I hear it in the way you talk about him. I see it in the way you look at him. I know it's not this Arthur too." He cut Alfred off. "I get it, Al. I really do. I can't stop the way you feel about Arthur…in any world apparently." His voice hitched slightly, and Alfred could feel his own heart breaking. "I understand that. And I…I really hope…when you get home…I hope you have a good relationship with him…" A tear slid down his face. "I really do!" He cut Alfred off again. "I'm not stupid enough to think I can somehow come between you. Trying would only make you hate me. And I love you, so I want you to be happy. So…please…um…I really hope…"

Alfred embraced him, hugging his brother tightly. His heart ached. Matt was breaking just trying to let him go. "Matt. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never should have led you on…"

"You didn't! No! I understood from the beginning. Really, I did. It was just…you at least acknowledged my feelings unlike my Al, and that made me cling to you. But I was never delusional enough to think that I could get in the way of your feelings for your Arthur. I knew this would come to an end like this. I always knew."

"Matt…"

"I love you…"

Alfred stiffened. "I know, Matt." He rubbed circles into his brother's back, trying to console him the best he could. He was broken out of his attempt when he felt Matt shaking his head.

"No, you don't."

"Huh?"

"You, Alfred. I love you. Not him."

Alfred felt like the floor had dropped out from under him.

"I just wanted to tell you that before you left. I know I should've kept quiet. I know it's going to hurt us both. But I just…I couldn't let you leave without telling—"

Alfred slammed their lips together. Matt melted into it. His arms tightened around Alfred's neck as Alfred's wound their way around Matt's waist. He kissed Matt deeply, tongues briefly pressing together. Matt's eyes fluttered shut. Alfred was admitting to himself what he'd been denying these past months. He really had developed romantic feelings for Matt. He hadn't been planning on ever telling Matt the truth, especially with him leaving today. But Matt had told him the truth of the matter, that he had stopped thinking of Alfred as a replacement. And therefore, Alfred could no longer bring himself to lie. He loved Arthur more than anything. But God, if didn't have feelings for Matt!

When they parted, their lips cheeks were flushed, and their lips were swollen. Matt whispered to himself, ending with drawn out "Al…"

"Matt, I…"

"What're you two doing out here?"

The jumped apart, both heads shooting toward the Alfred in the doorway. Unintentionally, their separation let the other Alfred get a better look a them, and when his eyebrows shot up, Alfred knew they were in trouble. Blue eyes narrowed. "You two…you're…" He struggled to get the words out. "But…Matt…"

"It's none of your business, Alfred." Matt spat back.

"The hell it's not! That man is me!"

"No, he isn't! He's not nearly as big a dick as you are." And then Matt was gone, pushing roughly past his brother and forcing himself to keep his balance despite the weakness in his legs. Both Alfreds were left to watch after Matt's retreat, and when his other self turned toward him, eyes wide, and yet, suspicious, Alfred knew he had a lot of explaining to do.

Ludwig sat at the table across from an uncomfortable looking Arthur. He himself was uncomfortable in the awkward silence that had sprouted up from the abrupt departure of both Alfreds and Matthew. He had a pretty good idea of what was going on now, and he thought it best to stay out of it. Coughing, he tried to start up a distracting conversation.

"So, Arthur, did you test the inter-dimensional spell or whatever? I trust you and all, I just want to make sure nothing goes awry."

He saw Arthur immediately stiffen as soon as he said "spell." The man nearly choked on the biscuit he was eating. Recovering, he waved a hand at Ludwig. "Yes. Yes. I'm sure it works." There was a odd glint in his eyes, and Ludwig was honestly clueless as to what it meant. He wanted to question Arthur further, and he would have too…

…if an angry Matthew hadn't stomped back to the table. He plopped back in his seat. "I'm finished." He spat at Arthur. "When are we leaving?"

"Do I want to know what happened…?" Arthur slowly replied.

Matthew glared at him. "Like I'd tell you anyway." He turned his away, refusing to spare Arthur another glance.

Arthur gaped and pleadingly looked at Ludwig. "What did I do?"

Ludwig shrugged. Now he knew exactly what was going on.

The last time Ludwig had seen Feliciano was almost a month ago. The brothers' trial for war crimes had been on the verge of going into full swing, and the boys' freedom was bound to be a short-lived experience at that point. Ludwig had left Moscow for the first time since moving in to fly to Venice. He and Feliciano had sat in a little café and enjoyed some fresh pastries and small talk. They hadn't dared to speak for the longest time about the trial or the brothers' inevitable punishment, instead choosing to skirt the issue in favor of the brighter sides of life.

Then they'd taken a walk, Ludwig admiring the city of Venice once again. He hadn't visited it in the longest time. They crossed a bridge that overlooked a canal, and they admired the slowly setting sun in the distance.

"What will you do?" He'd finally dared to ask.

Feliciano had shrugged. "My relationship with Lovino is pretty much nonexistent now. We are no longer on hateful terms, but we are also no longer brothers. I will be doing things by myself now. That's all I've decided."

"And what if…?"

"What if they sentence me to a century in prison? A human's lifetime? To torture or permanent disfigurement or some other heinous punishment? Who knows? Grin and bear it?"

"I don't want to see you hurt."

"I have already been hurt. What is a little more to what I have already endured?"

That was a new Feliciano speaking. He'd gradually recovered some semblance of emotional stability. He'd gradually started to heal from his mental breakdown. But he was forever changed.

"I don't think you should be punished at all."

Feliciano had given him a look of skepticism. "I am not insane, Ludwig. I was in control of my actions for every nation I killed, for everyone I slaughtered. Their deaths are on my shoulders. Whatever punishment I am dealt, I deserve."

"Your resignation doesn't make me feel better."

Feliciano had smiled sadly up at him and playfully flicked his hair. "Me either."

That was the last they had spoken. Ludwig had tried calling him several times, but the man had never picked up the phone. The last he'd heard, the trial was going south for the brothers. Their punishment would likely be severe. He had started to become increasingly worried when he failed to be able to contact Feliciano, but Arthur had assured him the boys had not been put in prison. They were still appearing in court as ordered and were free to roam Italy—not to leave the country, however—as they wished. As long as they complied with the others' demands, they wouldn't face and punishment until a verdict was reached. And that only made Ludwig worry more. If he wasn't in jail, then where was he? Why wasn't he answering his calls?

They stood on the outskirts of town, a winter chill starting to blow through the area. Ludwig adjusted the bag on his back. He hadn't gathered too many belongings of significance, but there were a few that he wanted to keep. He'd prepared this bag the day before, carefully cataloguing all his belongings. Most of them he'd given away to neighbors and friends. They all wished him a goodbye as he left the apartment that day, none of them knowing just where he was going.

He glanced at Arthur, who was mouthing the spell again. A magic circle had been carefully drawn on the ground earlier, and Ludwig looked at it with trepidation. He was going home. The term sounded so foreign to him now. The world he'd come from that has been his home for centuries. It shouldn't have felt this way, but he'd settled into this life. Frowning, he looked up at the overcast sky. Closing his eyes, he thought of Feliciano. His Feliciano. This world's Feliciano had not contacted him despite the fact that he'd left several messages saying he was leaving today. If it was to end this way, then so be it. He thought to himself. He'd been delayed enough. He needed to return to his real home before this one grew on him anymore.

Alfred shuffled on his feet, looking uncomfortable. After lunch, the two Alfreds and Matthew had locked themselves in a room and had a long "discussion." Surprisingly, when they'd emerged, they seemed to have reconciled the situation. Now they were all standing together, Matthew's hand intertwined with Alfred's, the other Alfred throwing occasional resigned glances at them. Ludwig pursed his lips. Another reason they needed to leave here. They were getting too caught up in this world. Far too caught up.

A bright light suddenly flared up. Everyone hushed and turned to look at Arthur, who'd activated his magic circle. Shrugging his shoulders in relief, Arthur turned to look at them. He nodded. "It's ready."

Ludwig didn't move for the first few seconds, then he realized he was stalling. Every step felt like he had weights tied to his feet. But somehow, he ended up in the magic circle. When he turned to look at the small crowd before him, he actually wasn't shocked to see Matthew kissing Alfred. It was brief but full of emotions, and Ludwig knew Alfred would be hurting for a long time after he left this place. There was no guarantee another spell would send them back to this particular world. They would go back to their world, Arthur had said, because they were linked to it. The return spell could only send them back where they came from. But another use of the initial spell could send them anywhere. In all likelihood, they could try a thousand times, a million, and they'd never end up back in this particular world again.

Alfred unwillingly parted from Matthew and backed his way into the circle. Arthur coughed and adjusted the paper with the spell on it. He gave them one last look, one last halfhearted smile. "We've enjoyed having you here. You saved us from destruction. You've helped us rebuild our world. And you didn't have to do any of it. Please, if there's one more thing you can do for us…Enjoy your lives. Go home and be with your loved ones. You deserve it. More than anything in the world, you deserve peace." A green eye flicked over to Ludwig momentarily, and he caught that same glint again. What was Arthur trying to tell him? "Good luck to the both of you."

"Yeah, thanks for everything. If you ever need help and you find your way back to us, we'll take up arms in a heartbeat." The other Alfred added.

They both nodded solemnly.

"Goodbye, Alfred." Matt whispered.

Alfred bit his lip. "Bye, Mattie."

Ludwig said nothing more.

Arthur quickly and efficiently ran through the spell, words pouring from his lips. They could both feel the energy surging through the circle and into them. Ludwig grunted as Arthur sped up the pace of his reading. And then he hit the last line. And then he hit the last word.

And then Ludwig felt as if a cosmic hand had wrapped around him and threw it with all its might through time and space itself. The world disappeared around him. And there was nothing.

Dro: Sorry I lied, guys. One last chapter. No preview either. I'm sure we can all guess what happens, yeah?