Changement

Part 26

Prussia was definitely not used to these sorts of situations. Usually he was the one who caused fights that needed to be broken up by an outside party. It felt as if something was wrong with the world if he was the one who was being asked to break up a fight.

Fucking America. Of course he had to decide to attempt to murder France right when he was in the middle of kissing Mattie. His Mattie.

If it were anyone but Italy asking him to do this, he would have told them 'hell no' and let France get whatever was coming to him. It was his own fault for deciding to go after England in the first place when it was quite clear that he and America were together. Since they had helped the two of them get together. Then again, this was France. He wasn't about to stop going after someone that he wanted just because they were with someone else.

"Per favore!" And Italy was tugging even more desperately at his arm. "America's really really angry, Gil-Gil and I think he might actually hurt France-nii."

Gil-Gil? Since when had he gotten that nickname? Oh, shit—and now Italy was starting to tear up. "Ah, fine. Ja, I'll do it. Just don't cry. Francis will be fine."

Italy definitely didn't look convinced, but he managed to hold the tears back and nod once in response. Then he continued dragging Prussia toward the centre of the dance floor.

Damn it, and now he was going to be forced to intervene in a fight between America—a very jealous, possessive America, and France—who most likely deserved what he was getting.

The things he did for this adorable little Italian.

They managed to finally make their way to the centre after pushing through the crowds, Italy weaving through with ease, Prussia pushing people out of the way if needed, and Canada following as closely as he could. The humans had created an empty space in the centre, not wanting to get too close, which allowed him a view of the situation.

France was actually on the floor right now, one hand held against his nose, the other held up as if hoping that it would deflect the fists that were probably about to smash into his face again. He was babbling in French, too fast for Prussia to translate. Possibly begging for mercy from the incensed American who was standing right over him, fists balled in preparation of another attempt to break his face in.

England probably would have been joining the fight—judging by the curses that he was throwing at France right now—if it weren't for the fact that Germany was holding him back and attempting to reason with him. Failing rather miserably at it, too. And Denmark and Romano were both standing nearby, happily encouraging America. While Spain attempted to scold Romano into stopping.

Prussia took this all in and then grinned to himself. Time for the awesome him to make his awesome entrance. Although. He paused for a moment and then glanced back at Canada, holding out his hand in a silent request.

Canada smiled happily in response and took the offered hand, violet eyes brilliant as he clutched the pale fingers in his hand.

Yes, the awesome Prussia would make his awesome entrance with the also awesome Mattie.

"How come you didn't wait to start the fight until the awesomeness was here?"

Denmark grinned and motioned toward France, who was now scowling up at Prussia. "Blame these two. Apparently Francis here decided to go after Artie while Alfred's back was turned and Alfred wasn't too happy about it."

America turned and glared at Prussia. Seriously glared. Like the sort of glare that plainly read 'you're next, bastard'. Surprising the ex-nation. What in the world was that look for?

"Butt out, Prus—Gilbert. This is between me and Francis."

Ouch. Harsh. Someone was apparently rather pissed off and attempting to take it out on the awesomeness.

And then Canada stepped forward slightly, not releasing Prussia's hand. "Come on, Al, just leave him alone. I'm sure he's sorry." He glanced toward France, who was attempting to scoot backwards, away from the American. Unfortunately for him, he forgot that England happened to be standing in that direction, being held back by Germany.

He received a nasty kick in the back of the head when he moved back just a few feet too far.

"Ow! Oui. Oui." He attempted an innocent look, while rubbing at the back of his head and glaring back at England. Who looked rather pleased with himself.

And now America took a good look at his brother and noticed that he and Prussia were holding hands and...

"No!!"

The shout was loud enough to startle not only the two nations at the receiving end, but also everyone else in the surrounding area, including most of the humans. Many of whom jerked backwards, quieting as they watched with interest, curious about what was going to happen next.

"No, what?" Prussia finally questioned. The other nations were all silent as well. Italy had been terrified by the noise and had run over to hide behind Germany, who was now holding a much more docile England. Romano had also been startled and was now clinging to Spain's arm, seemingly without realizing it. Spain looked rather happy about this sudden turn of events. Even if he'd also been scared out of his wits by the sudden shout.

"There is no way that you're going out with my little brother!!" America shouted, pointing toward their entwined hands. "The hero won't allow it!"

For a moment, Canada and Prussia both just stared at the American in confusion. Wondering what in the world he could possibly be talking about. Then Prussia snorted and tugged Canada closer. "Hey, if Canada and I want to go out then we can go out."

And now France jumped up, still holding his bloody nose, but otherwise seeming to have completely forgotten about his injury entirely. "So you've finally admitted l'amour!!"

Spain clapped his hands excitedly, beaming brightly. "So our plan worked!"

America now flashed Spain a glare as well. Or attempted to flash him a glare. The one that he received in response from Romano was enough to make him second-guess the intelligence of threatening Spain in any way. After all, Romano had the mafia. And he knew how much of a pain in the ass the mafia could be.

"Yay!!" And suddenly Canada was attacked with a hug by a very happy Italy. "I'm so happy! I knew that you'd get together and now you have! Ve~"

"Um...thanks?" Canada still wasn't sure how he should respond to the sudden attention that he was receiving from the other nations. Was this how it was always going to be from now on? Now that he and Prussia were...were...together? Maybe... Hopefully together...

"Hey!!" This was definitely not the response that America had hoped for. Why wasn't anyone else upset about this? He glanced toward England, hoping for some support from him, at least. And wasn't Romano supposed to be on his side? He should've known better than to ask for help from someone who was dating one of Prussia's best friends. "Iggy, you aren't going to let them go out, are you?" After all, Canada used to be his colony too...

England hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two of them. Then he sighed and slipped out of Germany's grip, which had slackened as England had stopped struggling.

He then marched right up to Prussia, weaving slightly on his feet as he stared into the ex-nation's eyes.

"Do you love Matthew?"

Not what America had been expected. He started to open his mouth to interject. But was silenced by a look from England. Holy crap, he looked sexy right now. And intimidating. But mostly sexy.

There was a very long pause as Prussia stared at the shorter nation, eyes widened at the sudden question. And then he glanced at Canada, who was giving him a rather hopeful look.

Shit. He couldn't just answer something like that completely out of the blue...

"Uh...um..."

England leaned forward and poked him in the chest. Hard. Eyes flashing dangerously. "Answer the question. Do. You. Love. Matthew?"

"Arthur, he doesn't need to—" Canada started to cut in.

England flashed him a look that immediately shut him up. And caused him to move even closer to Prussia in hope of protection in case England attacked.

Prussia had finally found his voice. Kind of. He managed to force and then started, "Ah, well..."

"Yes or no. Answer the question."

The awesome Prussia was not afraid. But it was probably better to answer the question before England killed him. "Yes! Yes, I love Mattie. Okay? The awesome me is in love with Mattie..."

Canada's grip around his hand instantly tightened and then suddenly the hand was gone completely and—before he had a chance to react—he was having the life squeezed out of him by an absolutely ecstatic Canada.

England nodded, as if everything was now taken care of. "Good."

"Iggy!!" And now America looked as if the entire world had completely betrayed him. "You can't be okay with this! He's Pr—He's Gilbert!!"

England paused, frowned in thought, and glanced back at Prussia. Who was now attempting to look completely innocent. While also attempting to breathe, since Canada was kind of choking him...

"You're right... I don't know if I completely trust him with Matthew."

America grinned. Score! Now Iggy would be on his side!

England moved back into Prussia's personal bubble, staring up at him with a very serious gaze. Startling Canada into moving to the side; thankfully loosening his grip on Prussia's neck.

Prussia had to resist the urge to step back. There was no way that he was intimidated by England.

"Now, Gilbert. You're in love with Matthew, right? Good. As long as you are, then I don't have a problem with this. I just want Matthew to be happy. So as long as he's happy, everything will be fine."

Prussia was having a flashback to his conversation with France.

"However, if you do anything to make him unhappy, I will personally make the rest of your existence a living hell. It would be very very easy. After all," and here he leaned forward so the eavesdropping humans couldn't hear, "I'm sure you're aware of what I used to do to those who crossed me."

Prussia was not afraid. He was not at all afraid. Okay, maybe he was a tiny bit afraid. But fuck, yes, he knew what England used to do to people back when he ruled the sea and much of the rest of the world.

"Ah, yeah. Yeah."

A few of the humans snickered at that. To which he flashed them rather irritated glares. He'd like to see them attempt to stand up to the former British Empire when he was in his overprotective mode.

"Good. As long as we're agreed." And now England took a step backwards and then turned toward America, who was gaping at them as if his entire world had fallen down.

"But...but..."

"Come on, Alfred. We're going home. I'm getting bored with this." He grabbed onto America's hand and started dragging him away. Ignoring the looks that America kept throwing over his shoulder toward his brother and Prussia. Although he did pause once and glanced back at France. "And don't think that I'll forget about tonight, frog. I'm not that drunk."

France just groaned.

"B—but! Iggy! He—Matt—we can't—"

And America was dragged out, still sputtering as he waved desperately at his brother and the Prussian.

Who, in his awesome maturity, took the opportunity to stick his tongue out at him. Receiving a light punch on the shoulder from Canada.

To which he responded with a grin. "So, you ready to go home and deal with the hangover you're going to have in the morning?"

Canada frowned slightly, but then nodded. "Okay..."

Prussia smiled at the reluctance in the other nation's voice and began to lead him out from the crowd of people. "All right, everybody. The awesome show is over. I've gotta take Mattie home now."

He was immediately greeted by quite a few groans of disappointment. The free entertainment was leaving already? Now they'd have to entertain themselves the old-fashioned way. Definitely not as much fun.

"Hey! Don't worry! I'm still here!" And now Denmark ran back to the stage and climbed back into place, grabbing onto the electric guitar that England had been playing previously. "Fuck, yeah!! We're gonna keep rocking until we pass out!! Who's with me?!"

And he was greeted by an almost deafening scream from the humans, who all turned their attention to this new entertainment, ignoring everyone else.

Which suited Germany fine, as he took the opportunity to take Italy's hand and tug him toward the exit. "Come on, let's go home, Feli."

Romano immediately flashed them a glare and then tugged on Spain's arm, which he still hadn't realized he'd been clinging too. The action forced Spain out of his happy daze. "Come on, idiot Spagna. Before that potato bastard does something to my brother."

"Sí, Lovi! Whatever you say, querido!"

Romano instantly blushed. "I'm not your 'querido'!"

"You look just like a tomato, Lovi~ Ow! Lovi, you shouldn't headbutt people!!"

And there was now another club where the nations would never again be allowed to enter.

A/N: So right now I'm basically just waiting to head out to Paris tomorrow. Rome was quite cool, although I will admit that I love London better... Still, it was quite quite cool to visit Lovi ;)

And I'm trying to decide what I'm doing for my next story. I want to keep up this series, but I'm having issues coming up with a plot. Either way, I probably won't be starting it til I get back in the States (if I even finish this before I leave for the States, which is up in the air right now).