Dro: Ha! Bet you weren't expecting a chapter today, were you? Well, thankfully, my Japanese exam was not too long, so I had time to write. Anyway, here's today's chapter. And don't kill me please. And oh, please review!

Chapter Summary: Matthew wakes up to a nightmare. One that just keeps getting worse.

Warnings: Violence, Language

Disclaimer: -insert generic statement about how I'll never own APH here-


Matthew blearily awoke to midday sun streaming through the window. He squinted in the bright light, trying to ignore the intense throbbing in his head. He felt like he had the worst hangover of his entire life. He tried to sit up, only to fall flat on his back from overwhelming dizziness. What in the world had happened to him? He found his memory was blurred and distorted. He remembered Feliciano's death. He remembered Ivan. He remembered running into Papa and Gilbert and Romano and Spain. And then what…?

Britannia had shown up.

Fear raced through his veins. His fatigued eyes searched the room, immediately identifying it as Britannia's office. How had he gotten here? Willingly. His mind answered. Well, as far as being influenced by the man's magic made him willing. He groaned. That was right. He'd fallen back under Britannia's influence. He cursed himself for being so weak. How could he have let that happen again so easily? He'd just broken free.

But what had happened after that? He had a vague memory of being in Britannia's bedroom, but beyond that, his memory was blank. Just…blank. Had he been unconscious since then? For some reason, he didn't think that was the case. Britannia wouldn't have just taken him again to knock him out. He was unconscious for a very specific reason. But…he just couldn't, for the life of himself, figure out what that reason was.

Until Britannia appeared.

Matthew recoiled, pressing himself further into the cushions of the sofa as Britannia materialized above him and just stared down at him, a playful smirk on his lips. His hand rose from his side and stroked Matthew's cheek, brushing his hair out of his face. "So, how do you feel, Matthew?"

Matthew's throat was dry, and he found himself unable to answer. He felt incredibly sick all of a sudden, and he had the urge to purge everything in his stomach. "I…what…" His voice came out slurred and incoherent. What was wrong with him? Why in the world was he like this? Britannia's amused smile told him that the bastard knew exactly what had happened.

"Don't be afraid. The effects will wear off soon enough. I'm sorry to have had to resort to such a tactic, but Alfred was being so obstinate. You won't have to worry about a repeat of that, I don't think. Alfred seems to have gotten the message this time." Matthew had no idea what Britannia was talking about, and the man chuckled as he apparently read the thought from Matthew's mind. "Ah, my apologies. Of course you don't remember. I possessed you."

He…what?

"Like I said, I didn't want to have to resort that, but Alfred forced my hand. But you shouldn't worry. I wasn't using your body long enough to cause any permanent damage."

Using his body. Possession. Britannia had taken control of his body. Directly. No more mental manipulation. Just complete control. He didn't remember anything because he hadn't even been using his own body. Britannia had been using it, using it to…to what? Force Alfred to obey him again?

"Bingo." Britannia leaned over and kissed his lips gently before placing an even softer kiss on his forehead. "Just stay calm, Matthew. I really don't want to hurt you anymore. I would put you back under my influence to keep you calm and trusting, but in order to break the possession, I was required to remove it from you. If you get too frightened, just let me know, and I'll put my influence back."

His influence. Matthew felt the bile rising in his throat. Britannia was acting like his mind-warping influence was some kind of medication. Matthew had never felt so disgusting in his entire life. He'd been twisted by this fucker's magic into a obedient little dog. Then he'd had his body literally used by him. He felt…dirty. He didn't even want to think about how many times his fucked up self had slept with this bastard.

Britannia frowned. "Oh, Matthew. Don't think that way. My influence doesn't make your feelings any less real." Matthew was tempted to point out the irony in that statement, but he kept his mouth shut. He was in a bind he couldn't escape from now. No, that wasn't true. He could escape, but—

"But you couldn't stay there forever. You wouldn't be able to stand it. You'd have to come back eventually, and I'd be waiting for you when you did." Britannia confirmed. "So there's really no point in considering that as an option. You'd be much better off just accepting that you and Alfred are with me now. And perhaps Francis too…depending on whether or not I end up deciding to kill him."

"Papa…?" Britannia had gotten a hold of Francis too?

He quirked an eyebrow. "Well, it wasn't exactly hard. He basically came right to me."

Matthew bared his teeth. His family. This fucker had destroyed his entire family. One of his parental figures was gone, and the other one was liable to be killed at any time. And his brother…his brother was probably being torn apart on the inside as he was forced to fight his loved ones. Matthew felt a rage welling up inside himself, a familiar rage. One he'd been experiencing more and more frequently since the moment he'd stepped foot on this airship. The rage that wanted that wanted to rip Britannia limb from limb. He tried to suppress it with all his might. That kind of uncontrollable emotion would render an even worse outcome than the impending one.

"Where's Al?" He needed to change the subject. Fast.

"Doing his duty." Arthur said curtly. "Hopefully well."

Matthew's heart ached. Alfred was out there somewhere attacking his allies and friends because of him. Because he was too weak to escape Britannia. Al, why didn't you just let him have me? For once in his life, he wished he really was invisible and unnoticed. If no one cared about him, then this wouldn't be happening. Alfred would be back on the right side, fighting against Britannia like he was supposed to. But, no, he wasn't. Because of Matthew.

Britannia smiled and shook his head. "You boys and your self-sacrifice. Never in my life have I seen anything like it."

"I would sacrifice myself a million times over if it would help rid the world of you."

Britannia pouted. "Don't be like that." He rolled his eyes. "I swear, you and your brother are the most stubborn pair I've ever met. As soon as this is all over, you'll realize how futile all your efforts were. I'm considering just cutting my little game short and ending the rest of those imbeciles now just so you and Alfred will finally see the light. Maybe with all of them gone, you'll finally accept that you belong with me."

An alarm went off in Matthew's mind. "No, please…please don't." He grabbed Britannia wrist. He knew very well that Britannia could make good on that threat at any time. They were playthings to him, all the other nations. He could easily obliterate them from existence at a moment's notice. Not even "kill" or "massacre" described what Britannia would do to them if he was annoyed enough.

Britannia considered him carefully. "Very well. I'll let them have their way for a bit longer." He seemed to mull over something. "Although, there is an anomaly I would like to investigate. I have a sinking suspicion that something has been hidden from me, and I want to find out exactly what is."

Matthew could honestly say he had no clue what Britannia was talking about, nor did he think he wanted to know. Then again, anything Arthur did not know was a plus for them. He knew so much already that this entire endeavor was just about hopeless, but if there was anything they could use against Britannia, anything they had that Britannia didn't, then it counted as a small victory all the same. Matthew's reverie was broken by a knock on the door. His eyes honed in on the thick oak structure. Britannia didn't bother rising to open it. It opened silently on its own.

Francis entered.

"Papa!" Matthew shot up, ignoring the dizziness at the edges of his brain.

"Mathieu!" Francis' eyes lit up at the sight of an awake Mathieu. He had partly been convinced his beloved boy was comatose as a result of Britannia's possession, which had been fully described to him by said bastard earlier. Then he'd been escorted off by an angry Lucaster and stuck in a room until "he was called for." He'd spent the next hour trying to pick the lock on the door before realizing it had to be locked using magic. So he'd given up. Then he'd been let out a few minutes ago and escorted here by Siphone, who'd disappeared as soon as she knocked on the door.

He hurried over to the sofa and embraced Mathieu tightly. "Are you all right?" He whispered into Mathieu's ear. The boy looked tired and ill, but at least he was awake and coherent.

Mathieu nodded. "Well enough. My head still hurts."

Francis flicked a not-so-subtle accusing glare at Britannia, who rolled his eyes. "I am just glad you are…better."

Mathieu smiled softly. "I am fine, papa."

"Wonderful reunion." Britannia mocked. "Now, Francis, I called you here to keep an eye on him. Don't let him leave the office." The last words reverberated in Francis' mind, and he made the deadly mistake of looking at Britannia as he said them. A feeling of absolute compliance settled over his true desires.

"Arthur, don't!" Mathieu yelled, but it was already too late. The compulsion had been cemented in.

"I won't." Francis answered simply. Something inside him was screaming that this was wrong, wrong , wrong, but there was nothing he could do to reject the order.

"Arthur, let him out of it. I won't leave." Mathieu tried to bargain.

But Britannia wouldn't hear it. "You've proven to me more than once that I cannot yet trust you, Matthew. If I leave you and Francis here alone without a safeguard, you'll get up to all sorts of trouble. And don't you even try to deny that."

Mathieu bit his lip, as if he was physically restraining himself from saying something incriminating. Apparently, however, he still thought it. Britannia frowned deeply. "I see. Well, if that's the way you want to play…" He walked up and grabbed Francis' chin, forcing the man to look him in the eyes again. Mathieu tried to intervene, but Britannia mentally forced back onto the sofa, pinning him there. He vainly struggled, screaming for the man to stop. But he didn't. "Francis." Francis was immediately lost in his voice, his deep green eyes seeming to swallow the rest of the world. "If Matthew vanishes from your sight for more than five seconds or visibly leaves this room, kill yourself." A choked sound worked its way out of Francis' mouth, but he had no choice but to let the compulsion sink in and take hold. "Oh, and by the way, don't let him touch you."

And then Britannia was gone.


Matthew curled himself up on the couch, facing away from his former guardian. He didn't want to look Francis in the eye. He couldn't. Not after what happened an hour ago. Why didn't he just compel me? He'd asked himself that a hundred times in the last hour, and he still hadn't come up with a satisfactory answer. But then, he'd noticed, Britannia hadn't seemed to be keen on physically compelling him and Alfred to do anything lately. Matthew couldn't help but wondering if that was their Arthur shining through.

But he didn't want to get his hopes up. Not with the situation he was in now. He couldn't use his power to slip by Francis. He couldn't physically overpower Francis. If he actually did get by the man, Francis would…He groaned into the couch cushion. Francis sighed from across the room. Matthew knew that his papa was being tortured on the inside now. Not only was his life at risk over something he couldn't control, but it was his life at his own hands. If he screwed up or Matthew screwed up, Francis would kill himself. Matthew knew he couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't. Not his papa. He'd already lost Arthur. Wasn't that enough family torn away from him already?

He vaguely heard the sounds of Francis perusing one of Britannia's many bookshelves. He curled in on himself more, trying to block out the world around him. He could feel Francis' gaze landing on him every second or two. More than five seconds. More than five seconds. It keep repeating in Matthew's mind over and over. It was a simple thing to overlook, five seconds. How could Britannia impose a compulsion so easy to mess up? It was like walking on eggshells, five seconds. At any moment that Francis become careless, he could end up…Matthew found himself wanting to cry. This was not the way things were supposed to be. He felt like he was on a rollercoaster. One second they were Britannia's devoted followers, the next they were free, and then the next they were prisoners all over again. His stomach was doing flips, and he was sure he was going to throw up any minute.

Something loud crashed behind him, accompanied by a panicked yell. He whirled around, realizing one of the bookshelves had fallen on top of Francis, who was now trapped beneath it and a hundred books. Matthew could barely even see him, his hand just sticking out from under the shelf, frantically pushing at the heavy wood.

Francis couldn't see him.

Five seconds.

He was across the room in two seconds. But the bookshelf was heavy. It took him another two to move it. And it took him another two to reveal Francis's face underneath the pile of books.

Six seconds.

Too many.

Francis stared up at Matthew, wild-eyed, struggling internally.

"No…" Matthew whispered. He made to grab Francis and drag him to the other plane. No compulsion there. I'll leave him until this is all over. But he was too fast. Francis slipped out of his grip before he could make the transition and ran to Britannia's desk, heaving open several of the drawers, searching for something.

Something to kill himself with.

"Papa! Stop!"

But he knew very well that Francis couldn't stop. The only option was for Matthew to stop him. He had to get Francis to the other plane before…

Francis pulled out a long, sharp letter opener, immediately turning it on himself. There were tears pouring down his pale face, shadowed with stubble. Matthew moved as fast at he could, leaping over the desk to tackle him and tear the piece of deadly metal from his hands.

But he wasn't fast enough.

He was forced to watch, mid-jump, as Francis plunged the letter opener into his stomach, gasping loudly at the pain. Then Matthew crashed into him, sending him staggering back into the window. Matthew immediately tore himself away.

"Papa!" He froze, shaking as he got a good look at the man he called his father. Francis had released the letter opener. It was firmly impaled in his abdomen, blood rapidly leaking out around it. Francis started heaving, blood working its way up from his punctured stomach and dribbling down his chin. His blue eyes were wide with fear and pain. "No…No. No. No. No. Papa, hold on! Hold on, please! Please!"

Matthew mentally begged Britannia to return. It was an accident! Please! I swear! But no one came. Please don't do this do this to me! Heal him! No one came. "Please!" He screamed out loud.

No one came.

"M…Ma…thieu…" Francis whispered, coughing as he began to choke on his own blood.

"Papa!" Matthew grabbed his shoulders, clinging to him, tears pouring down his face. Please come back! Please heal him! Please! Still, no one came.

"S…So…Sorry…L…Let you…down. Sorry." He whispered quickly, his eyes glazing his over, his head lolling. He stopped talking.

"Papa?"

Francis didn't respond.

"Papa…please…please…"

Matthew's shaking hand pressed against Francis' chest.

No heartbeat.

"Papa…"

He screamed.


Dro: -pulls out the master list of 'Terrible Ways Dro has Killed Characters'- -checks off 'death by suicide caused by falling bookshelf'- Oh, yeah. On a roll.

Next Chapter: Alfred confronts Feliciano and the others but finds himself unable to properly fight them. Britannia shows up. Then he leaves almost as quickly as he got there.