7

In the morning, Matthew climbs out of bed and stares at the freshly cleaned clothes on the dresser. Clothes that he distinctly remembers wearing yesterday and tossing on the floor before falling asleep. This isn't the first time this has happened, either. Gilbert must be sneaking in when he's dead to the world and snatching his clothes to clean them. They're always so neatly done, too. Washed, ironed, folded…

He would never have expected Prussia of all nations to be so particular about clothes. Or such a neat freak in other ways. The albino nation can be so random in his conversations and even some of his antics and mannerisms. Yet his room is always tidy and he even irons his prisoner's clothes.

Makes him feel a little bad for the mess caused downstairs by the close proximity of the bombs yesterday. He wonders if Prussia has already cleaned everything up down there to have it back to the picture perfect normal. He wouldn't be surprised at this point, though still impressed nonetheless.

Shaking his head, Matthew finishes getting dressed and then stares at the door. Gilbert had invited him down for breakfast. Should he go? Even after all the awkwardness and embarrassment of yesterday, he still wants to be around the other nation.

Guess that's my answer.

Without further hesitation, he slips out the door and slides down the stairs to walk around and poke his head into the kitchen. He pauses in the doorway and takes a moment to stare at the scene and smile. Gilbert's back is to him, standing by the stove cooking something on a skillet, and he's wearing a light blue button-down with navy slacks.

When Gilbert turns around, Matthew feels the blush hit because the blue shirt isn't even buttoned. It's open and loose, revealing the bandaged chest beneath, as well as that precious scarred pale skin.

"Oh, uh, good morning," Matthew manages to say.

Gilbert simply grins. "Guten morgen! You hungry?"

Matthew nods and notes the meat sizzling on Gilbert's skillet, which he's holding out in the open instead of over the stove since he turned around. "More sausage?"

Gilbert spins back around to set the pan down and poke at the sausage. "Ja. Probably shouldn't be using it all so fast 'cause there's no telling when we'll get more meat, but I can't help it."

"Remind me to treat you to pancakes if you ever visit me when the war is over."

"All right, it's a deal. Pancakes with that maple syrup you love, right?"

"Mmhm," Canada nods and hums as he finds a seat at the small round kitchen table. "It goes great with sausages, too."

Prussia glances at him from over his shoulder as he continues cooking. "Does it really?"

"Yeah, I've had it a few times like that. You can really put maple syrup on anything, you know."

"Heh. Sounds like you really love the stuff."

That might be an understatement.

With a hum, Matthew settles back in the wooden chair and watches Prussia finish cooking. Sausages and eggs and potato chunks that have been mashed almost beyond recognition. Gilbert gets two plates, sets everything up, and then moves over to the table to feed them both, sitting down across from him.

With Gilbert no longer standing in front of the stove, Matthew notices something else. A little yellow bird hops along the counter like it's the most normal thing for him to be doing. Matthew blinks a few times, trying to recall if he's seen a bird around Prussia's house until now, but he comes up blank.

"Hey, Matthew, are you planning to eat?"

Shaking his head with a slight blush, he mumbles. "Yeah, sorry, I just - is that a bird?"

"Hah?" Fork in hand, Prussia turns around and then laughs as he looks back. "Yeah, that's Gilbird. He's been with me for a long time."

Oh, so Prussia has an immortal animal companion, too, then. Matthew smiles and takes a few bites of food. It's wonderful cooking, though he does miss his maple syrup, and it would be better with some pancakes on the side.

"You know, seeing you with an animal makes me miss Kumajiro."

Prussia grunts. "Who's that?"

"A baby polar bear," Matthew says. "He's been at my side for a long time, too."

Gilbert almost chokes on his food, hitting his chest to clear his throat and then gasp out. "A polar bear?"

"Yeah," he says with a blink as he stares at Gilbert's reaction. "He forgets who I am a lot, but he still stays by me."

"And he's been a baby this whole time?" Prussia asks, leaning forward. "Like he's not going to grow bigger and eat you one of these days?"

LIfting an eyebrow, Matthew shakes his head. "No, of course not."

Prussia settles back. "If you say so…"

The two of them melt into a comfortable silence as they eat. Breakfast is good, better than a lot of his meals when on the job or on the road during these times. He can't help but think how wonderful it would be to sit across from Prussia like this every morning.

Of course once the thought crosses his mind, he shakes it off. That's just crazy talk. No matter what their feelings now, they're in the middle of a war and there's no way this powerful European nation would care to cross the ocean just to visit. Or live. Or stay forever.

Okay, he really needs to think of something else. Now he's just getting out of hand.

Thankfully, he gets a nice interruption in the form of the yellow bird flying across to roost in Prussia's hair. Canada blinks and stares because it's adorable and unexpected, especially because Prussia acts like nothing's changed or new or weird about the whole bird-in-his-hair thing.

In fact, Gilbird will tweet and clean his feathers and Prussia doesn't do much besides grunt in response. Maybe he can understand the bird. He knows that's possible because Kumakichi is the same way. No one else can understand the animals except for those that they're connected to. There's something heartwarming about Prussia being close to a small chick of all things. And something absolutely adorable in the way he blushes at what Gilbird tweets.

Wait.

"Hey, wait a minute," Matthew says after setting his utensils down. "What did he say to make you blush?"

"Ah - what -?" Prussia coughs and waves his hand in front of his face as if he could erase the growing redness. "No he - he didn't say anything - well he did - but nothing worth - ahem -"

"Oh, you can tell me, Gilbert," Matthew goads. "What did he say?"

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing."

"That doesn't seem like nothing."

"It -" Gilbert swallows and sets his empty plate to the side, reaching up to cling to the bangs of his hair. "Damn. Look, Gilbird's always trying to find me a match. Don't think too much on it."

"A match? Wha -"

His words get stuck in his throat and his own face heats in a matching blush. Oh. Suddenly, nothing is more interesting than the plate of food sitting in front of him. He doesn't even sneak a glance to Prussia or the bird. Mapleleaf. Even his ears are feeling hot now.

"See? Nothing." Prussia states.

"Yeah," Matthew mumbles in agreement. "Nothing."

Gilbird tweets and Prussia snaps. "You shut up."

But after that, there's silence again. Only this time Matthew's thoughts are in turmoil. He's no longer blushing, he's wondering what's going to happen in the future. The immediate future. He's reminded of things Arthur and the others had said about Prussia. Blaming him for the whole German aggression.

Nothing good will happen to Prussia if Canada gets free. Whether someone comes to free him or not, if he finds a way out before the end of the war… He's finding it hard to finish the last of his food. He knows too much now. He doesn't want to hurt this man anymore, but it's a strong tug from his country to finish this war, and he'll be pushed to give up any information he has to England at the very least.

It's strange, but now he doesn't even want to get free. He likes Prussia. If it weren't clear before, after the way he acted yesterday, he can't run from it anymore. Though he has to get free at some point. Prussia may be nice, but from everything he's gathered, Germany won't be so kind. Especially not if he comes back and his brother has nothing to show after all this time.

Mapleleaf…

Prussia groans across from him and stands up to wash his plate, grabbing Matthew's while he's at it. "You've gotten quiet all of a sudden."

"Sorry," Matthew mumbles, refusing to face him. "Just...thinking."

"Thinking huh?" Prussia says as the water from the sink runs. "About what?"

"About you. And me. And what happened yesterday. And...other stuff."

Gilbert clears his throat. "Y-yeah? You must be glad I don't have anymore beer to hand you."

"You could say that," Matthew mumbles. "I must have been pretty drunk because I actually really liked it and I -"

Red eyes find him from over Prussia's shoulder and Matthew groans. He looks too cute when he does that. Light in his eyes, sly grin on his face. More hot than cute, and now it's just making him feel worse.

"Oh? You like my awesomeness that much?"

Dropping his head to the table, Matthew takes a breath and tries to get his words to come out correctly. "I guess what I'm trying to say is...I'm sorry."

"Hah? Sorry?"

"For everything. I mean," he drifts off and sighs. "Let's just say you shouldn't let me go until the war is over. Unless you're okay with moving."

There's a beat of silence. The sound of dishes clinking together as Prussia slides them back into their positions in the cabinet now that they're clean. Then Gilbert moves over to hover by the table, which makes Canada lift his head and face him.

Those red eyes are no longer bright. "What the hell are you on about?"

Matthew meets his gaze, then looks to the side. "I got what I came here for, and if you let me go you'll only get hurt."

"What the hell?" Prussia's growl is soft but audible enough to make Matthew flinch back. "You haven't gotten anything important. There's no way."

"I know where they're keeping you."

Another beat of silence and then Prussia slams his hands on the table, making Matthew jolt up in his chair. "You wouldn't - Ah hell - it doesn't matter. Not like I'll still be here if you manage to get free anyway."

"I know but the bombings over the capital will only get worse," he says, lifting his gaze. "England is saying that all of this is your fault. They want to end the war by getting rid of you."

Red eyes widen and Prussia goes quiet. Matthew prays that he'll think it through. Prays that he'll understand the danger and the situation is worse than he thinks. It's more than being trapped here. Matthew is a danger to him. He has to see it.

But Prussia just scowls. "That's bullshit. How is any of this my fault? You know that's not true. So why don't I let you free and you tell them the actual fucking truth instead of leading them back to me?"

"I - I can't. There's no way I can convince them. I don't have the right kind of power within the Empire to change England's mind. The only way to change their minds is to actually help us stop it all." He holds his hand out. "Join us. Join the Allies, Gilbert, and we can stop your brother, Italy, and Japan together."

He can tell the words aren't doing what he hoped they would. Prussia isn't buying it. He's just getting angrier and angrier. His jaw is clenched. His eyes are heated. And he slaps Matthew's hand away hard enough to make him feel the sting.

"Fuck that! I'm not going against my brother!"

"Yeah, I kind of figured you'd say that."

But I want them to see how good you are. I can't make them see it on my own. I need you to make a move to prove it to them.

"Why even bother asking?" Prussia shouts. "Let them blame me. Whatever. If it keeps them away from hurting West, then fine. I don't care."

Gilbird flies out of the albino's hair and starts making circles around the nation, tweeting constantly. Prussia scowls and crosses his arms, spinning around to put his back to Canada. They're nations. Enemies. He wants to save him, but he can't if he's going to act like this.

Prussia walks away, slamming his arm into the edge of the kitchen doorway as he goes out into the hall. Canada jumps to his feet, intending to follow him. But he hears the man scream and punch a wall. And then scream a curse once more.

This isn't what he had hoped for when he spilled all that information. He wants Prussia to come to his side. He doesn't want to fight him anymore. He doesn't want to be a prisoner trapped in his enemy's capital, but he doesn't want to see this man hurt. He's already been hurt enough from his own nation because of how he looks.

"I don't think you understand," Matthew calls as he rushes after the albino. "If we win this war, they're going to kill you. Not just blame you."

When he catches up, the red eyes are on him again, and they're darker than they've ever been before, darker in rage no doubt. "They wouldn't dare."

"They would," Canada insists. "England's boss is already doing what he can to rally support from his people for getting rid of you. You have to come with me. I don't want -"

"They can't just kill me!" Prussia snaps. "I'm still a nation. Fuck, even if it's just as a state under Germany now, and even if West's boss installed some of his own people into my government to get control, essentially destroying any independence I have - even if we lose this war they can't just get rid of me! That's not how it works!"

Flinching back, Canada finds he can't keep his mouth shut. "They're going to try," he mumbles, then steps forward and pushes harder. "They're going to try and when we win, I'm sure they'll find a way to do it! Please listen to me. You have to stop your brother! Even if you don't go against him, you have to convince him to stop the war! To give up!"

Before he can finish letting out his thoughts, he's against the wall. And ow that hurt. Prussia's holding him up by his shirt collar and bringing his face close. There's pain in his back from where the other nation threw him hard against the wall.

He gulps because those red eyes are worse than he's seen. He's reminded of all the times Gilbert ran from the room because he was getting a little worked up. Has he done it? Has he pushed him into the rageful monster he's been warned about?

Oh, mapleleaf, maybe he pushed too far after all.

"Shut up," Prussia says slowly with force. "Now."

"I'm just trying to help you!" Canada continues, even as his heart pounds and his breathing gets harder to control. "I don't want to see you disappear!"

In a flash, Prussia punches the wall next to Canada's head, making him wince. "I said. Shut up."

His breath leaves him, caught in his throat, and he closes his mouth as told. He nods, feeling tears welling up in his eyes because this is too much. Can't this stubborn jerk see he's trying to do what's best? Can't he see this is the best option? Why can't he just do what Canada wants him to so they can live happily and forget this whole war business?

Why is this so hard?

"Good," Prussia says with a slow smirk. "No more talk of that shit."

"R-right," Canada stutters. "Sorry."

A pale hand falls on his face, fingers tracing his lips. It's so intimate. But the look in Prussia's eyes is so different from the moment when they had kissed in the bunker. Everything about this is so different. His heart is pounding. His chest hurts.

"Wha-what are you doing?"

The smirk is lopsided. It looks sort of creepy and makes him shiver down to his feet. "Hm. I had an idea of ways to keep you quiet, but I guess that's not really necessary anymore."

A squeak escapes from Canada's lips. "You wouldn't."

There's no real response from Prussia, just the continual smirk. This is too much. He didn't expect this kind of reaction. So the others were right about Prussia being a monster on a leash. It's no wonder he doesn't want to quit this war. Maybe it's an internal battle, maybe not, but this is too much.

No.

He can't fall into that trap. Prussia has been avoiding this for so long, leaving him alone whenever he gets too angry because he knows what happens. It's almost like it's uncontrollable to an extent. Canada hasn't ever snapped to such a degree. Not for whatever Prussia is hinting at now.

Mapleleaf, what is he going to do?

And then Prussia steps back and pulls away, his hand clenched into a tight fist at his side. Gilbird comes back into the picture and rests on the albino's shoulder, chirping in trills. Canada stares in shock and then lets out a breath in relief.

"I knew it."

"Matthew," Gilbert says. "Don't piss me off again."

"Right. I gathered that much."

Gilbert shakes his head and walks away, heading toward the den. "This is why I kept leaving the room after you got me angry. Sorry you had to see that up close."

Matthew shakes his head and follows after him. "No, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"Whatever."

Canada uses the time spent walking to catch his breath and get his pounding heart under control. His heart still aches, though for a different reason. He really wishes he could get through to Prussia. He wishes they could hatch an escape plan together and leave this all behind.

But it isn't that simple. And it hurts knowing there's nothing he can do to stop history from turning. What will be, will be. That's all there is to it, and he has to accept that and only work to change what he can.

Once they're in the den, he hovers in the doorway for a bit as he looks over at the mostly clean room. Much better from the other day. The windows are even boarded up now. Prussia walks over to the television set and plays with the rabbit ears, only to curse and give up after a few failed attempts. Guess they still can't get a signal.

So they both retreat to the sofa, with Prussia leaning against one arm and Canada sitting awkwardly on the other side. The distance between them is rough, but it's probably for the better now. After what happened back there.

"You probably hate me now, don't you," Canada says into the silence.

"I wouldn't say that."

"Really?" Canada perks up. "Then you know I was only trying to help."

Prussia grunts. "Whatever. Weren't you supposed to drop the whole topic?"

"Oh. Right. Sorry. I just really like you so -"

This gets the albino nation to face him with a frown. "There it is again. You 'really like' me, huh?"

"Oh, I - mapleleaf," Canada sighs and shuts his eyes to avoid facing the source of new embarrassment. "Yeah. I feel like you're a lot nicer than what people say and you don't deserve what's been happening to you."

"Yeah?"

He expects more of a response, but Prussia doesn't give him anything. The other nation runs a hand through his hair and stares off at the boarded window. Nothing.

"Sorry."

Gilbert glances over at him. "Stop apologizing."

"Can't help it," Matthew admits. "I made things awkward again."

Gilbert shakes his head. "No, I'm just not sure how to respond. Not exactly used to people liking me these days, even if I am the Awesome Prussia and everyone should fall in line to admit their love for me."

The bravado feels forced, and Gilbert's sigh after the fact makes it all the more so. Matthew frowns and shuffles on the sofa cushion, wishing there was something he could do or say to make the depression in the room drift away.

But he's never been very good at lighting up rooms. Not like his brother.

"Well," Matthew starts, licking his lips as he thinks of what to say and how to phrase it. "Like I said before, you're a lot nicer than people give you credit for."

Prussia grunts. "I'm not nice."

"Sure you are. There's a lot of things you could be doing with me, but you're not. And even when I didn't want to tell you why I was here, you didn't press it."

Gilbert tenses and Matthew wonders if pointing this out is somehow the wrong thing to say. "That's not - I'm not - damn it."

"See, you're nice," Matthew says with a smile. "And I really want to be your friend."

This gets him more of a reaction. Gilbert practically spins on the couch to stare at him with wide eyes. Disbelief clouds his face more than anything else. Which is still sad and depressive, but better than the closed-off behind-a-wall manner he'd been exhibiting before.

"You do?"

"Mmhm," Matthew nods. "You know there was a time when some of your people came over to my place. I'm honestly surprised we didn't meet back then."

"There - what really?" Gilbert's confusion in this instance is kind of cute, but Matthew just smiles and nods. "Huh. I guess I'm not good at paying attention to them if they leave the country."

"You should. You could meet a lot more people that way."

"Meh. Too busy helping West to care nowadays," he says with a huff, crossing his arms. "Or I was."

"Right."

There's silence again, but this time it's a little more comfortable. Canada decides to take a breath and make a choice to move in closer. He stands up and sits right next to Gilbert. Which gets the albino to raise an eyebrow but otherwise not say anything.

That's all right, though. He's got the man's attention. Even if it still seems like Prussia is focused more inward than he's been the entire time he's known the man.

"Heh," Gilbert grunts. "Sorry there's nothing to do."

"It's okay," Matthew shrugs. "I like talking to you."

"Mm," Gilbert hums. "So do you kiss any of your other friends?"

Heat rises up his neck and Matthew turns away. "Uhm. Kind of hard when you don't really have any other friends."

"So essentially," Gilbert says, dropping a hand to one of Matthew's legs, "you don't have a problem kissing friends."

He can't tear his eyes from the pale hand on his leg. He likes the touch so he doesn't want to shove him off, but he's a little wary of where that hand could move. So he watches it like a panicked hawk and licks his lips as he tries to keep his mouth from drying out.

"Uh, I guess not. I don't know really."

"Hm. Francis and Toni and I mess around all the time, especially when we get drunk." Prussia laughs and Canada likes the sound so much he leans in closer without really thinking, looking up at the brightness splashing through his eyes. "Ah, too bad all the fun times stop when war happens."

"That happens to everyone."

"You'd be surprised," Prussia says, pulling his hand away and stretching his arms above his head. "If people are willing you can get up to a lot of fun with your allies. But then, Arthur probably sheltered you from those traditions."

"Huh?" Canada blinks up at him. "What traditions?"

Prussia grins at him and crosses his arms in front of his bandaged chest. "Yep. You've definitely been sheltered. Good on Arthur, honestly."

"Sheltered from what?"

"Did you know…" Gilbert starts then shakes his head and starts again. "Did you know that the more intimate we get with another nation, the more likely it is for our people to follow suit? So sometimes for alliances and treaties over here, we like to have a bit of 'fun.'"

What?

Feeling his eyes widen, Canada pulls back away from Prussia, dropping his hands into his lap. He toys with the fabric of his khaki pants and chews on his bottom lip. He can't believe the other nations could be so promiscuous. No wonder England never mentioned anything to that effect. He probably wanted things to change.

Matthew's face heats up as he shakes away the images of what other nations have been doing for all these years. Then he wonders what it takes to make it work. He's seen so much happen because of how the people affect them but if it happens the other way around…

"Does it really work that way?"

"Yep," Prussia nods. "We've been doing it for centuries."

"Okay then," he says, then takes a breath and lets it out slowly before working up the nerve to ask the real questions. "What if two enemy nations did it?"

Gilbert goes quiet and Matthew looks up at him to catch those eyes staring at him above a hard line of a frown. "As far as I know," he says eventually, "that doesn't happen voluntarily so it's a completely different circumstance."

Not good enough.

"Hypothetically speaking," Matthew insists. "What if it did?"

Gilbert hums and looks up at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze. "I don't know. Might cause issues of loyalty in the people. Make them question why they're fighting."

"Right," Matthew mumbles, feeling his shoulders sag as he deflates. "I suppose hoping for them to find peace that way was too much."

"What? Were you going to suggest we fuck for peace?" Gilbert chuckles, then clicks his tongue between his teeth. "I feel like I'd be stirring up problems in Arthur's empire if I let you try that. He kept you sheltered for a reason. I can respect that."

"Yeah I know. It was just a stray thought."

Can we find another topic now and forget this one? It's awkward enough as it is…

"Damn, I really am acting all soft," Prussia murmurs, running a hand through his silvery white hair again. "I treated Austria and Lizzy worse and they're allies."

Frowning, Canada looks at him again. "Why though? Why treat me differently?"

At this, Prussia merely sighs and shakes his head. "I wish I knew."

The conversation dies again and Matthew sits back on the couch, lost in his thoughts. Did he really just lead into the idea of getting intimate with Prussia for the sake of ending the war? Even if it were something that could happen, it probably wouldn't work if it was just them. It might make him leave the war, and it might cause internal strife in Germany, but…

It wouldn't suddenly make everything right.

Why does he care so much anyway? Why does he like this guy so much? Why?

I wish I knew, too, Gil.