Dro: Prepare to be eternally mind-fucked by this chapter. -snickers- I feel like this story just keeps better and better. So review, and tell me if you think so too. And oh, I've had lots of people ask me when we're getting back the others on the ground (Italy and co.). My answer is only that there are at least three more chapters in this arc. Two I've which I've already written, which I why I don't exactly. But it shouldn't be more than four total. We'll see how far I get when I write chapter 39. This current arc needs to be finished before I get back to the ground because it sets up the next arc, which takes place on the ground all the way to end. So, just a few more chapters of this. A few more very exciting and mind-fucking chapters.

Chapter Summary: There's no summary for this. It's too awesome for one.

Warnings: Mind-fuckery

Disclaimer: But no matter how awesome it is, I still don't own APH.

A scream tore through his throat. He was free falling, picking up speed at a rapid rate, the wind rushing against him, the world beneath him getting larger and larger as he plunged toward it. The airship sped by him, the bottom of the massive structure in his line of sight. Die. I'm going to die. Oh my God. He clenched his eyes shut.

Then he stopped. His arm nearly tore out of its socket, and he screamed again in pain instead of fear. His eyes snapped open, and he found himself hanging by one arm thousands of feet above the ground. He dangled there helplessly, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he thought his ribs would crack. Confused, he looked up, and disbelief struck him like a freight train. On a small ledge jutting out from the very bottom of the ship was Britannia, pressed flat against the structure as he desperately held onto Matthew with one hand.

Matthew breath rushed from his lungs. He stared up at the man in complete shock. Britannia said nothing as he began to pull Matthew up, his immense strength making Matthew like a paperweight in his grip. Matthew found himself heaved up and pressed against the man's chest. He sat, legs hanging over the ledge, looking out over the ruins of Barcelona. His entire body was contorted with tremors, his body finding itself stunned by the sudden shocks of the last couple minutes. Britannia's arms wrapped around his waist, holding him in place. The man's face rested on his shoulder, the sound of his relieved breathing filling Matthew's ears.

"Please…please don't do that again." He whispered.

He wouldn't. Never again. What had he been thinking? Where had the idea that suicide was a good idea come from? His first thought was Britannia, the source of all Alfred's and Arthur's problems, but he didn't think so. His thoughts were almost in direct retaliation to what Britannia wanted him to do, almost like he was rejecting whatever manipulative magic the man was pumping into him. Which, apparently, was just as dangerous as letting it overtake you. Matthew shook wildly, trying to catch his breath. What if he had actually fallen? Oh God, his people, his country. What the hell was wrong with him?

"I would like to know that as well."

"Stay out my head." He weakly retorted. "You're the reason for all this."

"I will stay out of your head if you promise not to try this again."

"I swear. I swear to God. I don't know what came over me." He started rambling. "Oh my God. I must be insane. I'm crazy. I just know I—"

Britannia silenced him by pressing his thumb to Matthew's lip. "Hush. Just calm down, Matthew."

Matthew reluctantly let himself relax in the man's arms. He didn't want Britannia's comfort, but his mind was muddled and his emotions were on the fritz and just didn't know what to do. So he let Britannia hold him, the man murmuring soft words in his ear. Matthew let it lull him, his eyelids drooping. He let himself ignore the fact that they were still perched precariously on a ledge thousands of feet above the ground.

"Matthew. We need to get back inside now."

"…How?" He muttered tiredly, his body worn out from the sudden withdrawal of adrenalin.

"There's a maintenance entrance on this ledge somewhere. It should be that way." He nodded to the right.

"Fine." He didn't particularly want to stand up, but he let Britannia pull him to his feet, still holding him with a firm but gentle grip. Matthew dared to glance at the ground so far beneath him, and he shuddered. He would have hit that long past this point now, been splattered on the ground, in pieces. Dead. Gone.

"Don't think about it."

"You…"

"I don't need to read your mind to understand what you're thinking." Britannia led him along the ledge for the next several minutes, the wind still whipping past them both, threatening to throw them off balance. Matthew knew would Britannia would catch him if he fell, and he was ambivalent about that. He didn't want the man's help, but he had lost any shred he'd previously had of a desire to die.

Finally, they came to a hatch-like door, which Britannia popped open with his mind. He pulled Matthew back into the safety of the ship, the door creaking shut behind them, cutting off the sharp sound of the shrieking wind. They stood in some kind of machinery room. Britannia finally let go of his hand and turned around to face him.

"What compelled you to do that?"

Matthew figured now wasn't a good time to point out the irony in that statement. "I…I don't know…"

"You came up after you saw us together. Was that what did it?"

Matthew sputtered. "W-what?"

"Arthur and I. You snuck into my room earlier and saw us in the bathroom." He raised an eyebrow. "Despite your apparent beliefs and experiences, Matthew, you are not invisible."

Matthew ignored the blush creeping up his cheeks. "I-I'm sorry, that wasn't what I meant to—"

"I know. But you didn't answer my question. Was that what set you off?"

"I…I don't know. I just suddenly felt…I can't even describe it now. It's so hazy now." Why had he suddenly wanted to kill himself so badly? It didn't make sense. He certainly didn't now. But apparently, Britannia had figured it out because Matthew could see the cogs turning in the man's brain through his highly expressive eyes. Britannia had at least some inkling why this had happened, but Matthew doubted the man would just tell him.

"Hmm. Well, as long as you're better now. You swore you wouldn't try that again, Matthew. Remember that. If I see you attempting to yourself, I will resort to compulsion."

Matthew swallowed, his mouth going dry. He couldn't believe he was thinking of something like this, but he was so afraid he'd lose control again… "Compel me."

"What?" The man looked taken aback.

"Compel me never to attempt suicide again. Please. I don't want to risk it." He bit his lip.

Britannia seemed to contemplate his motives before he nodded. "Fine." He slipped his hand into Matthew's ruffled hair and guided his head downward until their eyes met. Matthew gulped, his stomach churning at that sickening pull that came from Britannia's eyes, but he let himself get lost in it. "Do not ever attempt suicide again, Matthew." He whispered. "Do you understand?"

"Yes." Matthew replied automatically, then he came back to himself, his labored breathing suddenly incredibly loud to him in the quiet room. He wanted to look away, but Britannia was still holding him in place. "T-thank you." Britannia nodded, his lips parting as if to speak, but he caught himself, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. Matthew never found out what he wanted to say because something inside of him made him lean forward and press their lips together.

Britannia froze for several moments before cupping Matthew's cheek with his other hand and kissing back softly. It was chaste and short, but Matthew let himself get lost in it regardless. He didn't know why he did it. In fact, part of him was screaming for him to back away and run, but whatever force that Britannia commanded on this ship, whatever otherworldly influence lingered in the air had him in its grasp now.

"Matthew…"

"I…I should go.." He started to back away.

"What do you feel for me?"

Matthew faltered. The answer to that question should have been hatred. Pure, undiluted hatred. But this man, this man with his magnetic magic and Arthur's face and terrible past…the longer you spent with him, the harder it was not to fall into his web. And Matthew could see it, right there in the man's eyes, that most of his persuasion wasn't even intentional. Sure, he used his abilities to manipulate others, but most of what he was doing to him and Alfred and Arthur wasn't even of his own volition. It was just something that happened the longer you were around him, the closer you stayed to him. Like he had his own ring of gravity that pulled your closer and closer until you couldn't escape anymore.

"I…I don't know…" It was the only honest answer he could come up with it. "Just…show me the way back to my room, will you? I've spent enough time with you today." He was so conflicted now. His feelings were shot, muddled together in a undecipherable pool. He loved Ivan. He wanted to be with Ivan. He knew that much. But any sense beyond that was lost to him. Britannia consumed his thoughts and feelings now, and Matthew knew the longer he stayed here, the worse it would get. So maybe he should commit…should what? He lost his train of thought.

"This way."

He blinked himself out of his thoughts and started trailing along behind the man as he headed toward a set of steps. Just before Britannia's foot hit the first step, he paused. "Matthew, do you fear me?"

What kind of question was that? Of course he feared this man. How could anyone not fear this man? Apparently, his answer was apparent on his face, because Britannia kept speaking.

"I see." There was a look of—what? Hurt?—something Matthew couldn't place that briefly flashed across Britannia's face. Had he been expecting a different answer? Matthew could've sworn fear tactics were a huge part of the man's game. Then again, with the bipolar way he seemed to treat Arthur, Alfred, and himself…He shook his head and followed the man up the steps.

Britannia paused again at the landing that Matthew guessed led to their floor. "What is it?" He asked when the man didn't immediately speak. Britannia slowly turned around, an indescribable look in his eyes. Then he was there, fingers brushing Matthew's cheek. Matthew's face rushed with blood, and he stuttered to try and stop the man, but he started speaking too late. Britannia kissed him fiercely, like he had when they'd been trying to jumpstart Matthew's powers. He found himself pressed against the wall, smothered by the man's feverish kisses. Britannia was far too strong to push off, so Matthew just stood there dumbfounded, trying his best to resist repeating his earlier breach of resistance to the man's pull. But it was really, really hard.

Every nip and brush of lips chipped away at his unresponsiveness. He broke. He started kissing back hungrily. Britannia groaned, his tongue pushing into Matthew's mouth, which warmly accepted it. Then he was gone as quickly as he had come, leaving Matthew to stumble to maintain his balance. Britannia heaved open the heavy door and motioned for him to follow before slipping out. Matthew leaned against the wall, completely confused. What the hell had just happened?

He pushed himself off the wall and rushed out into the hallway, but Britannia was nowhere to be found. He tried to calm his racing pulse and ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "What the fuck is wrong with that man?" Well, he was insane, so that might have had something to with it. But still, what was up with him making advances on everyone? Matthew had been convinced the bastard was just teasing and taunting at first, but now he wasn't so sure. He didn't act this way with Siphone and Lucaster, so it had to be something about him, Alfred, and Arthur.

Could it be the parallels? He wondered. Arthur was a parallel to Britannia, so Matthew, in a very twisted way, could understand how the two of them could be so pulled toward each other. But when it came to Alfred and himself, could that also be the case? Britannia's world had had a man that was, quite possibly, an exact combination of both brothers. So maybe the pull they both felt toward Britannia was because somewhere, subconsciously, their souls…how did he put this…resonated at the same frequency or something? It sounded farfetched no matter how he put it, but it had to have something to with that. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

And it wasn't just on their end either. Matt could plainly see the struggle within Britannia now that he thought about it. The man felt pulled toward them too. He—

"Matt! There you are!"

He whirled around to see Alfred rushing toward him.

"Where've you been? I've been searching for you all morning." Alfred slowed to a walk as he neared Matthew, looking at his brother, eyes lingering on his disheveled hair and swollen lips. He raised his eyebrows. "What…what have you been up to?" He asked calmly, but Matthew didn't miss the suspicion in his voice.

Damn, he needed a cover story. Think, Matthew, think! He drew a blank. "Uh…"

"I would say you were with Arthur, but since I've already asked him where you were…"

Well, there went that idea.

"Matt?"

"Uh…well, you see…"

"He's been with me."

They both froze at the sound of Britannia's voice. Alfred, face contorting with subtle anger, slowly turned to face the slightly shorter form of Arthur's other self, who was smiling rather deviously. Mon Dieu, Matthew thought. This man is so bipolar. Britannia's moods changed more often than Poland changed clothes, and it was honestly making him doubt the man had any shred of sanity left whatsoever.

"And what do you mean by that?" Arthur growled.

"Calm down now, Alfred. I'm not going to harm your brother. I like Matthew." He winked. "In fact, I like him a lot." He flitted past Alfred like he was made of smoke and ended up behind Matthew, his arms wrapping around Matthew's waist. He pressed his face into Matthew's shoulder, and Matthew could feel the grin.

What are you doing? He knew the man could read his thoughts.

I've come to an important decision about you.

And what's that?

Like I just said: I like you.

Uh…and?

"Which means, I've decided to let Matthew become something almost no one ever has." Britannia spoke into Matthew's shoulder, though he was plenty audible.

"What?" The brothers replied together. Britannia chuckled and gripped Matthew tighter. Matthew could almost feel the playful malice permeate the air around the man. What had happened to the Britannia from only a few minutes ago, the solemn, emotionally-confused Britannia who'd legitimately been concerned for Matthew's wellbeing? It was like there were a hundred of him roaming around on the ship, all with different personalities.

"I've decided to make Matthew my lover."

A silence thicker than smoke settled over them, and Matthew thought it would choke him to death before he regained his ability to speak. What kind of ludicrous behavior was this? This was a completely different man from before. It had to be.

…And it could be.

Matthew went rigid in Britannia's hold, so numbed to the world in that one brief moment of realization that he didn't even hear what Alfred was yelling. Arthur and Britannia had exchanged memories. Arthur was apparently struggling to keep them separate…what if…Matthew dared to crane his neck and get a better look at the man holding him. As his gaze fell on the small scar above Britannia's eyebrow and Matthew's recent memory immediately told him that, no, the "Britannia" in his memory did not have one, Britannia's eyes flicked up to Matthew in pure and utter glee, confirming every fear he had.

That…that wasn't you…

Britannia smiled wickedly.

Nope.

Dro: -laughs maniacally-

Next Chapter: The holy-shit-OMFG-response to this by Matthew.