DID WE HIT 600 REVIEWS OR AM I TOO DAZED W/ LACK OF SLEEP?

THANK YOU OH MY LORD

as always, i do not own the selection nor hetalia. these belong to kiera cass and himaruya hidekaz respectively.

Alfred feels a scream coming from his throat, and he can barely feel Yao's arms holding him as his eyes turn to Matthew, his blue eyes trying to find those of his twin.

Yao tells him to be strong, but Alfred insists that he cannot without trying to at least do something, as this is obviously not a fair trial. As Yao watches his liege whirl around in distress down in the arena, panic in each twitch of his arm and his feet skidding backwards in the sand.

He is about to try to calm Alfred down, shooting a nervous look at the advisorship box, when a force struck Matthew in the head, sending him facedown into the floor, the impact jarring. To see him lay there like a ragdoll, with the Joker Gilbert's expression contort into one of pure agony, something in him changes. Something that reminds him of the one given duty to protect the princes of Spades.

And it is him that pulls Alfred down to the entrance of the arena.

Moments before disaster.

"We'll stop it," Yao swore angrily under his breath, his robes billowing out from him. "It's all right, Alfred. We have the support of both the Hearts and the Diamonds. If anything, I have a right as a monarch to stop this carnage against another, as well as an unspoken rule to protect a Joker wherever they go. You should stay behind."

"I-I can't," Alfred stammered, shaking his head. "I can't leave Matt and Gilbert in there by themselves. It wouldn't be right."

"Very well," Yao said, but his expression was still determined. "But you must stay behind me. I'll protect you the best I can, but you must be careful not t-"

A cry split the air, and as sudden as the sound itself, there were no more words.

No more breathing. No more movement.

Just reality, crumbling to pieces.

Until, that is, Arthur remembered what had happened all those fateful months ago, and let his feet slowly move downstairs, hands running down windowsills, pushing open doors, the speed of his movements matching the pounding in his head and heart. He did not know what in the name of the Fates was eliciting this fight or flight instinct, but he knew it was something like he had never seen before nor heard any folktale that would match it in intensity.

The force surrounding Gilbert was strange. It was not blue, nor red or yellow – nothing resembling the magical signatures granted by the kingdoms, just like it had in the facilities. Arthur felt like he was moving through molasses, but strangely this time it was faster. Perhaps it was something to do with the magic?

I can't see a soul moving out there, he thought to himself forlornly. Surely, there must be someone with more magic than I to start waking up…

He did not know how long it was – or how quickly it was until he got to the ground. But when he did, he carefully maneuvered the twisting trees and the dappled stones leading to the arena, where a visage of silence had fallen all around the space.

Slowly, he pushed back from the wall, avoiding the warping gates that were drooping off the wall like a dark glaze to the entrance, their sharp spikes softened by the deformation. Arthur slid underneath the space created, and came to a completely still space.

The murky force that was surrounding Gilbert gave Arthur chills when he edged closer to it, so he could not get a good view of the Joker. However, he noticed that his hands were clenched into fists like he remembered. The three soldiers that had been deployed were lying on the ground, their faces completely stagnant. Matthew had his eyes closed, and Arthur winced at his wounds – his clothes were tattered, gashes opened all around his arm, and there were visible bruising and cuts marring his cheek and his neck. He would have helped him, but Erin's old training flooded back to his head. It wouldn't have done anyone any good to move him in this unknown state…

Arthur stumbled backwards, wide green eyes taking in the sight of the people surrounding the arena. It seemed that the ones closest to the ground had been rendered helpless, but the ones near the top – including the advisors – had only been frozen, their bodies bending and changing like it had when he and Gilbert had gone back outside from that room.

Where's the rest of the Primary Suit? he wondered to his whirling mind. Surely, they must be awake by now-

After two harried heartbeats, Arthur heard a groan behind him, and he whipped around, air rushing back into his lungs as he caught the dusky silhouette of Jack Yao slowly rising, but he was holding onto something that had a gleam to it-

Alfred's amplifier, and his spade shaped clock. That alone was enough to spur Arthur to action, his feet lashing out against the sand but no dust coming from it as he reached the two of them.

"Your Highness," Arthur panted, trying his best to not look at Alfred's still face. "Are you – are you all right?"

"Sir Arthur," Yao said, but his face was painted with anguish. "Prince Alfred's not waking up…! I don't know what to do, the only reason I'm awake is his amplifier lending me more power, but he should be supported by it as well…"

"…oh," Arthur said, seeing the way the Jack's grip on the clock trembled and how regret was spoken in every move of his leg tucking behind his stance, how his eyes drifted down to the floor.

"I just wanted to see what was going on, but…I should have allowed him to awaken first," Yao said softly, and his eyes met Arthur's. "Judging from your exemplary work together in the Trials, I trust that you can figure out what is plaguing us now. I cannot believe I let Matthew hurt while I was watching over him…"

"Your Highness, I don't think that we could have prevented what was happening. I don't think any of us could have." Arthur said. "What we have to do now is try to fix what can be fixed, and help what can't be."

Yao looked at him once, his expression unreadable – but it was only for a moment before he knelt down to place the clock on Alfred's chest again.

"If my senses do not deceive me, I doubt that you will be needing to call me Your Highness again," he muttered, before letting go and slumping again, as if the distortion had claimed him once more.

Arthur swallowed and followed suit, placing his trembling hand on top of the clock and shutting his eyes, his eyelids fluttering closed like a wings of a butterfly in the rain.

He thought of the Trials, the way that he had felt the warmth of Alfred's hand against his own, defying logic. Alfred producing the bloom for him, protecting him against the things that he did not know. The fragmented night of the attack, where Arthur felt the rush of power underneath his skin the moment Alfred touched him.

"Not like this," Arthur whispered, his own clock dangling from his neck as he leaned forward, watching Alfred's face. "I haven't told you how much I love you yet…idiot…"

He hesitated, thinking that it might have been too soon, but let his mind remember the way he and Alfred had shared their magical energy that fateful night as he knelt a little lower, letting their noses brush as he kissed him, almost as if to return the favour.

"This is how a queen shares magical power with their king, right?" he murmured, a hint of laughter dancing on his lips. "I know you can fulfill your duties, Your Highness."

He gave a little bit of himself, of his power into the clock and Alfred, bit by bit until the light began to wane from his eyes and his mouth loosened, catching onto the small window of light from the entrance leading to the arena. It felt as if he was gripping onto a rock besieged by rain, and the cold had melted his hands.

It was only mere minutes before Arthur collapsed, his hands losing grip and falling clumsily on top of Alfred, releasing a little sigh in his throat as he let go. He could only hope that it was enough to awaken him and end it all.

The last thing Alfred remembered was immense heat, bubbling in his chest despite the barrage of cold air rounding out his lungs.

He jolted awake, feeling the weight on his chest double tenfold as he propped himself up on his elbows - as if it were the weight of his fear imploding on his skin.

"Achhhh," he groaned, his eyes misty as he took in his surroundings. The ground was completely still, not even the winter chill permeating neither the arena nor the sand dusting it. His clock slash amplifier hung loosely on his chest, he could feel his glasses crooked on his nose, so what was this cold metal resting on his hand-

Alfred squinted past the mound of blond hair to quickly realize it was Arthur's clock, its chain loose as it's owner was curled up against him. Alfred hesitated – was it a dream? But the last thing he remembered was speeding down towards the arena, where he still was…so it had to be reality.

"Arthur?" Alfred coaxed gently, feeling some of the weight evaporate when his gloved hands touched his face. "Arthur, are you okay? What's happened here?"

Arthur didn't respond but only sagged in Alfred's touch, so much that Alfred's arms instinctually snaked underneath his own arms to support him, holding him a little tighter.

"…Arthur? Artie? Listen to me…" Alfred whispered, a deep sense of dread filling his senses. "Please, let me know you're still okay…"

He could see Arthur's slightly parted lips exhale, little wisps of steam rising to the air like miniature clouds – at least he was alive. But what would have caused him to be in such a state? Alfred was guessing Gilbert's magic would have affected those with low magical energies in their bodies, but he had felt the power coursing through Arthur's blood that night in the Trials, as well the one of his caning. So why would he be affected-

That night, when they were trying to use the safe room, when Alfred had kissed him in a hurry, trying to give him the energy he couldn't use due to the pain nullifying all his senses. Judging by how close Arthur was to him, was it possible that he had done the same…?

My lips aren't cold, strangely – but my body's kinda hot, he thought to himself, releasing an arm and tugging off a glove while pressing calloused fingers to them. Is that why…

"Wake up," he breathed, touching his cheekbone and running his thumb over his freckles, something he knew Arthur would have enjoyed in his waking. "Come on, princess, I…I need you, you know that. Y-You promised me we were gonna learn from our mistakes together. I-I can't do it alone, who else am I supposed to fight for?"

Arthur's body stayed fixed in his visage of haunting beauty, and with a reluctance Alfred felt freeze his overheated body, he gently laid him next to Yao as he got up, carefully laying his clock against his shirt, knowing that he had to face Gilbert and stop the warping once and for all.

Fates…I understand. I have to do this by myself.

I should stay with the two of you. Because you're both very important to me. I'm sorry, Arthur.

I love you. I don't think I'll ever stop.

Forgive me, Yao, for not being stronger. I'll always do my best for your sake, and the Kingdom's, like you always have with the wisdom of a mentor and the love of a father.

He bowed to Yao's stagnant shape on the floor as the thought passed his mind, taking a moment to straighten the Jack's hat. "I'll make this right for all of us. I won't forget the sacrifice you've made."

Alfred looked back at the two of them for one painstaking moment, before letting his mind and feet guide him to perform the first duty as successor of the king's crown.

The moment he stepped out into the arena, his clock started to tick like it had the other day – a sound that reverberated around the crumbling pillars and the skewed limbs that surrounded him as if he were a lion in a bullfighter's ring.

Matthew was quite a few metres away from the Joker. No doubt Gilbert would be seeking to keep him away from what sort of damage he was taking. Alfred would have inched closer to him, but he didn't want to disturb him at such a precarious time, where one touch could ruin everything, again…

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said of the mages, Alfred thought as he backtracked a little – they had been a lot closer and were only a meter or two away. No doubt their magical energies would be greatly distorted after this…

Pushing the guilt away at the back of his head, Alfred walked towards where Gilbert was – the distortion was still slowing down his steps even though freezing time would normally mean he would move the same way as he did during normal time flow.

Gilbert was still moving, and against the murky cloud he could see his hands feebly churning, providing the distortion over and over again – until he could be stopped. But who could approach him while he was still active?

There was only one way of stopping him, and Alfred knew what it was. He had to do his duty.

"Spades!" he called, clasping the clock in between two of his hands and raising it as high as he could, trying to ignore the chafe of the piece attaching it to his neck. "My Fate – please, grant me the power to freeze time for the benefit of the country and Cards!"

For three terrifying seconds, the only sound filling Alfred's ears was the rushing of the winter wind and the scrape of his toes straining on the uneven floor, his heavy breathing rounded out the sound of desperation.

Then with blue particles clustering around the clock, making it glow an unnatural blue, the threads of time tightened, getting closer and closer before it stopped. Alfred exhaled, feeling the distortion and everything else around him stop completely.

He had stopped time.

Letting go of the clock – it was now floating like a tiny fae would, blue encasing it with a glow as it almost seemed to lead him to where Gilbert and everyone else was still, the distortion still lingering but no longer active.

Alfred paused, sending out one last prayer to all four Fates before stepping into the cloud, conjuring up all his magical energy, joining it with Arthur's before he looked at Gilbert.

The Joker's eyes were transfixed at something – Alfred didn't know what, but the way his body was turned suggested that he had been desperate. This distortion must have been a last ditch attempt to protect him and his brother.

Ludwig, the name drifted across Alfred's conscience. Would his best friend ever forgive him for what he did to his brother…?

Focus, a voice said, both authoritative yet guiding at the same time, and Alfred paused when he recognized the voice of his Fate. You must perform the task at hand before anything happens.

"Guide my hand," Alfred begged aloud, his grip on his clock shivering as he held it out to Gilbert's body. "I'm not experienced, and I don't want to hurt anyone any more."

There are some things you must face before it is your time, the Fate said, his tone grave. For the future of this country, for this continent, you must do what is right.

Alfred closed his eyes, letting them linger on the blue of the clock before he let his whole mind fill with the colour of the spades emblem, Yao's jacket, Matthew's waistcoat, the blue box he had sent off to Arthur, the blue roses he watched grow in Arthur's palm.

There was a jolt, and then Alfred was thrown back into the sand as the surge of magic entered the distortion. Wearily getting to his feet, Alfred caught a glimpse of scarlet eyes before the dark mist dissipated, leaving an emaciated heap of a Joker on the floor.

My Fate… Alfred pleaded to him as time slowly, bit by bit, started to loosen its bonds. Did I do it?

A boy king you will be, came the fading reply like dewdrops against sunshine, the warm heat flooding his veins, dousing him with relief. Use your power wisely, child, and Spades will survive through these hard times.

Alfred sank onto his knees, watching the world revert back to normal as his clock sank back onto his clothes to rejoin his dog tags.

The whole world was dark.

Matthew's lips parted for air the moment he regained consciousness, and the sand and grime underneath his nails and his hands, scrabbling for a grip reminded him exactly where he was and where he was supposed to be.

But strangely as he turned his head to the left, Alfred was sitting on his haunches, his head tilted to the sky. One look at his amplifier, still laced with the blue on their coat of arms told Matthew everything – he had done it. The world was reverted back to normal, but how had he? Gilbert would be almost impossible to approach in that state-

"Gilbert…!" he croaked, his voice dry as if it were hoarse from disuse even though it had been almost moments. The mist from before had completely vanished, leaving Gilbert behind slumped in the dust.

Matthew crawled weakly to him, feeling the agony of the cuts newly made in his flesh and the complaint that his joints were issuing to him. No doubt about it, they were unhappy after being magically toyed with, but there was a far more important thing to tend to rather than himself.

Gilbert was completely unmoving, his eyelids half open, but his eyelashes were soft against Matthew's fingers as the other gently closed his eyes. His mouth was parted slightly, and Matthew could feel his heartbeat and the movement of air inside and outside of his lungs, but that was it. There was no response, no nothing even as Matthew rocked him and begged him and could no longer hold back his tears.

"N-No!" Matthew wept hoarsely, feebly holding Gilbert's still body against his stomach, resting one hand against the scruffy hair, against the hands that used to move to touch his. "This can't be real – oh, Fates, why? If…if you had to be so cruel, t-take me instead!"

He just cast a very dangerous spell for a long period of time, the Spades Fate's voice came over Matthew's conscience, an voice he longed for yet loathed at the same time. We do not know of the effects. Leave him be, child. Give him some spa-

"NO!" Matthew screamed, not caring whom he was even talking to or who could hear him. "If you take him, you must take me as well!"

…Why? I do not want to see you hurt for your own sake, Matthew.

"Just because I'm from Spades doesn't make me any less important than him," Matthew said, burying his face in Gilbert's torn clothes. "If you have to take him from me, you must take me as it would hurt less than being forced into a life without him."

…We will do what we can, Ace Matthew. But that is the only thing we all know for now.

He wanted to beg the Fate to stay. To somehow provide some sort of information regarding Gilbert's sustenance, even though he knew in his soul that in his condition he was walking on a tightrope above a tank of waiting sharks. But Gilbert's touch, his comfort, his laughter was still Matthew's life or death. How could he be expected to let that go?

Matthew wasn't teeming with magical energy. He was not a medic, he was not knowledgeable about the nature of the distortion that Gilbert had produced, and he did not hold a special bond with any of the Fates. He was just an Ace, in love with the one person he could not have.

And that was why he simply laid his head on top of Gilbert's barely moving chest and sobbed for all that was lost.

sorry for going out with all those caps lmao. but seriously, 600 reviews. i thought this story would have ended with uh 100 tops? from the bottom of my heart tho, it really does mean the world ;u;

replies

CFAA - mostly because they don't have as much canon interaction that i'm OK with, so i make do...unfortunately my mind goes places. angsty places.

vivadragnire - do your reviews inflict a reverse psychology reaction in me? i'm sold on this theory.

pastaddict - ah, the classic twist on the rawr xD meme. i love it

mi chan kizanami - haha i love how you assume that they're old - and i think people are lining up, so definitely! free hitman ;)

infinite hope - right? i love the Soft boys and i never see them in fanwork so i just Deflate. and thank you for your insight about the sidepairings - as well as the PS. i'm blushing here pls x.x

always forever - i guess this chapter might suffice since it's sort of what you mentioned in your review. i hope it works!

russia says hello (lmfao you don't need to log in and i know who you are) - i laughed so hard at your louis the 14th comment because all i could see was alfred, one shoe on top of three advisors calling: "it is legal because i wish it..."

hearthorse11 - yoooo i actually could see it, seeing that they're pulling literally wattpad fic (ew) to publish lmao. maybe next time?

aliasca - you are amazing, buddy. that's an awful lot of words (~100,000 per day)? that's an achievement :D

n kukuri chan - for your first point, i think giripan would be a relationship where they wouldn't be afraid of sharing anything with each other, so heracles would essentially know what's happening! i think kiku would see heracles' protection as something so important that it goes past the boundaries of normal friendship? or maybe kiku is just that sort of character lmfao.

and yep, i do think the hearts are already a lot more involved than they would expect themselves to be - that might be a good thing or a bad thing. the council views it as a seizing of power, so for them it would be much more of going out with a bang.

man, if it were a film i would probably get weepy during the opening credits...

reviews, favourites and follows are what will keep me writing, so please go ahead and leave them!