14

25 February 1947

A day he will never be able to forget.

Prussia can already feel the strange tug in the center of his being, like something inside him is trying to break free, when the door to his prison is opened. He looks up from his seat on a stack of boxes and forces a smirk for the nation that stands in the doorway. Of course Arthur would be the one to lead him to his death, his green eyes at least having the decency to appear faded, his cheeks drawn, his hair disheveled.

For a moment, he catches something familiar in that gaze. No pity for what's about to come. Just respect for the past, respect for who he was, who they were, as if Arthur is finally looking beyond his people's emotions and able to realize what their leaders are doing. The ache in Prussia's chest is from more than trepidation and fear of the future; there's a physical pain that's been growing by the hour. He knows what's coming; he can taste it. Even so far from his own people, he can feel their anger about what the other nations are putting into law.

Once those signatures sign whatever documents, Prussia will cease to exist.

Suppressing a shudder, Prussia climbs off the boxes and dusts off his navy blue pants. He would have liked to be in his uniform when it came to such a moment - because his military has always meant a lot to him - but no one has allowed him to visit Berlin even to check on his house. Gilbird flits from the open window (complete with bars to discourage him from breaking out) and lands on his shoulder. With a soft smile, Prussia runs a finger across the yellow bird's chest feathers and earns a nonsensical cheep in response.

"Gilbert," Arthur says into the awkward silence. "It's time."

Prussia turns his gaze to the other nation and grins. "Yeah, I know."

"You know?" Arthur raises one of his thick blond eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

"I can feel the tension. It's hard to explain."

"Hm."

Arthur's grunt doesn't really give anything away, but the glance over his shoulder tells enough. Even though it's too late now, the great British Empire seems to be second guessing this decision. No pity. Just an almost palpable sadness hovering around the blond-haired green-eyed nation who still acts like he sits on top of the world.

And he kind of does, Prussia tells himself. Arthur does have that whole empire and all. Something Prussia wishes he could have experienced at least once in his existence. He can't imagine leading so many people of all kinds of different backgrounds and nationalities, but he aches for that kind of power all the same. He'll never have it all, but he had something great once upon a time.

That'll have to be enough of a legacy.

"Well," Arthur says, clearing his throat. "Come on, then."

"Right," Prussia nods and then mumbles under his breath. "Might as well get it over with."

A sharp glance jerks toward him, but Gilbert waves it off. Gilbird tweets something about Canada being nearby, which catches his attention, and he can't help but look around the halls when Arthur finally leads him out of the small room. He's been in Arthur's home the whole time, in a room hidden away and probably meant to act as a place for extra storage, but it has a decent bed and full windows (barred though they are) and everything that makes a room feel homey and comfortable. Except for the fact that he couldn't leave, of course.

So now he gets to walk around and admire the paintings hanging on the walls. Arthur has always liked to fancy up his living space with all the proper decorations. A framed map of the British Empire - or well, stages of it - line one wall and Gilbert chuckles. The imperialism is catchy. Interesting to see no sign of America on any of the maps, though Canada is highlighted. Arthur probably doesn't like any reminder that one of his favorite colonies left him.

Speaking of Canada, if Gilbird says he's supposed to be around, where is he then? Surely Arthur wouldn't allow one of his imperialistic conquests in such an important meeting, especially not after learning how much Matthew and Gilbert meant to each other. He growls at the reminder. He still needs to find a way to trip up Arthur for pulling them apart, though bragging about fucking his precious, innocent, little Canada has been a fun jab from time to time.

"Here we are," Arthur says, opening a door and gesturing for Prussia to walk in first. "The others are already waiting."

"Heh," Gilbert scoffs. "So you're all here, but I bet the papers aren't even being signed here, are they?"

As he passes into the room, Gilbert catches a spark of frustration flash in Arthur's eyes. Ah. So there's been some fight between Arthur and his leaders. Interesting tidbit, that.

"No," Arthur growls under his breath. "They're being signed in Berlin."

Gilbert raises an eyebrow. "And you couldn't bring me there?"

"Like it matters."

Holding up his hands, Prussia smirks, though he knows not to press anymore. Arthur walks forward and leads him to a chair, which Gilbert absolutely refuses to sit in for now. He wants to meet the eyes of those responsible for this decision.

Russia is one he's not surprised at, and he shudders at Ivan's little smile. The man behind the nation has been tipping into insanity bit by bit over the years. Friendly one second, snapping the next. There's no telling what's going on behind his purple eyes right now, no matter the smile on his face.

America is someone he should have expected, though the young nation climbing to the top of the world is glancing more at Russia than anyone else right now. Is there something between America and Russia? Or is it the whole Soviet Union thing? Hm. Another interesting tidbit that he won't have any reason to remember, since he'll no doubt be disappearing in a few minutes.

By all that's holy in this world, he can already feel the tingle in his fingers and toes. Something is about to happen to him. There's no doubt about that anymore. He just hopes he can stand tall and proud as it washes over him. He won't sit and take it, and he'll refuse to fall for as long as possible.

His heart skips a beat at seeing an old familiar friend seated there, too. Francis is worn and tired and refusing to meet his eyes. One of his closest friends. Prussia shuts his eyes and tries to banish the memories of him and Francis and Toni trapiezing around the world enjoying the mess out of life. And then wars have to come around and mess everything up.

"Francis," he murmurs, opening his eyes. "You could at least look at me."

France winces and lifts his head. "Mon dieu, Gil. I'm sorry it's come to this."

"Uh huh, sure, too bad I don't have any way to get you back later."

A flash of something crosses through Francis' blue eyes and Gilbert frowns. What is he missing? It's not anger there. The tension isn't right. Fear? For what?

And then Ivan starts to laugh and he understands. "Ah, Prussia. We have worked out a deal that should keep you alive if all goes according to plan, even if you lose your current nation."

A shudder runs up his spine as he turns a glare on the cold nation. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you will see," Ivan grins. "I do not want to spoil surprise too soon."

Prussia grits his teeth, then turns a glare over his shoulder. "What's he talking about, Arthur?"

Arthur frowns then shakes his head. Oh? Not going to explain? Just going to stand there and expect him to deal with Ivan's cruel smile? Fine. If that's how it's going to be then -

A sharp stab of pain hits his chest and Gilbert stumbles back away from Ivan and the others. They're all sitting comfortably in cushioned chairs at a crescent-shaped table. Gritting his teeth, Gilbert moves away from them and almost stumbles into the wooden chair they've left out for him to sit in. But no, he refuses. He won't sit.

Coming up from behind, Arthur sets a hand on his shoulder. "Seriously, Gil. I can't imagine it'll be easy when the document is signed. You should sit."

Through clenched teeth, Prussia hisses. "I will stand or I will fall. I will not sit. I won't accept this on any level."

"Have it your way, then," Arthur sighs. "But remember, I tried to be nice."

"Yeah, right. If you were being nice you wouldn't have relocated me -"

" That was to protect Canada."

"Keh."

Another shot of pain nearly rocks his feet out from under him, but Prussia stands firm. Instead he glares out at the ones responsible for this decision. Sharp, stabbing pain may not have been what he expected in this moment, but it's better than slowly fading away and forgetting everything. Though he may still fade after the pain knocks him out.

Of course he'll hold on for as long as possible but -

Damn it. It hurts .

He's gripping his chest over his heart when America speaks up. "Gilbert, uh, sorry, dude."

Prussia raises his eyebrows and lifts his gaze to find the blue eyes hiding behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses. "Yeah? Sorry? Too late for that, isn't it?"

America shifts awkwardly in his chair and then shoves a pair of clenched fists down on the table. "Look. We made a deal to separate you and Germany, basically. We'll be keeping a watch over the Western half in separate districts and all, but the Eastern half…"

A grimace contorts Prussia's face before he can hold it back. Then he turns his gaze to Ivan and glares back at the twitching smile. Oh.

Oh shit .

~!~

Canada frets and paces on the front porch outside England's home. While he's sure he's seen multiple nations walk through these doors today, there hasn't been any big announcement and England most certainly hasn't come by to tell him anything. Still.. He can feel it. This worry and trepidation in the air.

Maybe he's going crazy. He hasn't been able to think straight since Prussia was taken from him. He hasn't even been allowed to see the captive nation. Still captive? Why? Why not let Prussia return to Germany and help with reconstruction in his own nation? Why keep him here?

Oh, sure, he knows the answers, but it's been so long .

England isn't in his usual office, so Canada is here, hoping to catch the man behind the nation. Of course, he's already missed him. He's missed them all. He's already tried to catch France's attention when he noticed the other nation walking through England's gate, but to no avail. France had been too trapped in his own world to notice him.

Of course people rarely notice Canada in the first place. The reminder in his mind is full of bitter resentment. So many meetings where he just hangs in the background. So many moments where he tries to speak and no one listens, no one even bothers to acknowledge him. And now, when it could matter most, he still has no voice.

He has to go back home soon. He's been here too long. But he wants to at least see Prussia one more time, even if England refuses to let them touch or talk. If he could only see that silvery white hair and those hazy red eyes, he'd feel better knowing Gilbert has yet to disappear.

Though that moment may be coming sooner rather than later. He does have a terrible feeling about today, after all. A feeling he can't shake no matter how much he paces and chews on his lip.

"Oi, you're Canada, right?"

He spins at the voice and blinks at the child holding the front door open. The kid has dark brown hair and light brown eyes that gleam with mischief as he gestures with an oversized red sleeve. Canada takes a moment to rifle through his memories.

Is that a chinese-type outfit? It sort of reminds him of something China might wear; something he's seen the other nation in at the meetings. But not quite the same. And those red sleeves are definitely far too long for the boy's skinny arms.

"Hellooooo~"

"Oh! Uh - yes -" He jerks out of his thoughts and faces the child, giving a nod. "Yes. I'm Canada. You are…?"

"Hong Kong," the kid says. "Did they forget you?"

"Excuse me?"

"The others. They're having a meeting. It seems pretty secret."

"Uh - well - do you know if Prussia is with them?"

"Hmm?" The child opens the door further and tilts his head, clinging to the door knob as he dances back and forth. "He's the one England wants me to avoid, right?"

Canada blinks, then smiles at the thought. "Probably, yes."

"Then, yeah, I think they have him there, too." Suddenly, Hong Kong pulls back and points into the dark behind him. "Do you want to see? I know how we can watch without England catching us. I mean, he already knows we're around since it's his home and all, but we could get closer. If you want."

So many things run through his mind at this little bit of information. Other nations are here. Prussia is in a meeting with them. A secret meeting that no one else has been informed about. Hong Kong here is one of the child nations that England has claimed as British Empire territory, but it's weird to see him so openly dancing around England's house. Canada hasn't come into contact with the smaller territory very often, if at all.

He's probably seen England's brothers more than someone like Hong Kong. So many people, so many nations, in the British Empire and they all so rarely meet up. Whatever the case the boy doesn't remember Canada, but that's not surprising. No one remembers him.

Except Prussia. Prussia remembered him.

He takes a deep breath and nods his head. If they've got Gilbert in a secret meeting, then the worst is probably about to happen. Documents being signed for Prussia's dissolution, if what they've been talking about for so long has actually come to pass. He needs to be there. He wanted to be able to hold Gilbert's hand in the moment, or stand there in support, but if he can't do that much, then he needs to find another way to be present.

Even if it's hiding in some hole in the background.

So he nods and smiles at Hong Kong, who stares back with dispassionate brown eyes. "Yes. I want to see. Whatever secret you know, please share it with me now."

The boy tilts his head. "That's a weird way to say it but okay. You're part of the Empire, too, right? Don't you know all the special secret passages in his house already?"

"Uh - no, not really," Canada says, flushing as Hong Kong leads him into the house and shuts the door behind him. "I didn't exactly grow up over here. I think England's changed how he handles child nations since then."

"Hm?" Hong Kong blinks up at him, oversized sleeves going to his mouth. "So you're the reason he's so overprotective and stuff?"

"Ah, actually, I don't think that's my fault." Canada bites his lip. "I'd blame America for that one."

"Hmmmm?"

Hong Kong's little noise grates on Canada's nerves, but he holds his tongue and lets the child lead them around the mansion. He has no idea what it feels like to be a young nation growing up under England these days, but he knows what it's like to be an adult still under the boot of the British Empire. Maybe Prussia is right and he should leave.

But not now. He'll think about those worries later. For now, he wants to focus on Prussia. On Gilbert. So he does his best to pacify Hong Kong's curiosity with a tight smile. His heart is beating too fast to care about much else, and the other nation doesn't seem all too inclined to continue their conversation anyway.

Though Hong Kong does keep glancing at him with those passive brown eyes. Like he wants to say something but he knows better than to voice whatever is going through his mind. Canada tries not to let it bother him. Kids will be kids, after all. Even if they are nations.

Eventually, Hong Kong leads him to a bookcase, which he points at as if it explains everything. So Canada raises an eyebrow and turns on the child. "What? I don't understand."

"There's a door behind there," Hong Kong mumbles. "It leads you down into the basement. Then from there you can find another set of stairs that lead to the room he's got closed off right now."

Canada blinks. "Huh? Secret passages behind bookcases? Are you serious? That sounds like one of his stories."

"It's not a story. He does magic down there and stuff."

Gaping at the boy, Canada slowly sets a hand on the bookshelf. "Okay. Show me."

The child nation doesn't so much as nod before he grabs one of the books on the bottom and moves it to the center. Canada watches as Hong Kong squats down and rummages around the space the book previously occupied. The soft click is his only warning. The bookcase slides off to the slide and reveals a hole in the wall with stairs leading down into darkness.

Matthew feels his mouth fall open. With all of England's spy stories and such, he had never expected the man to create something like this in his own house. It really does feel like it comes out of a fairytale. Or some story England used to tell him when he was young and far more accepting of those crazy fantasies.

"I can't believe this is real," Canada murmurs. "And he actually does magic down there?"

Hong Kong shuffles up next to Canada's leg. "I don't like the dark."

Blinking at the strange unprovoked statement, he turns to the child nation. "But you act like you've been down there before."

"Yeah, that's why I don't like the dark."

"Noted," Matthew mutters, then holds his hand out to the child. "You won't be going down there alone. He might have candles or a lamp down there, too."

Hong Kong shrugs but takes his hand. "If you can find them, I guess."

"Oh, well, I hope we can."

Guiding Hong Kong through the dark, Canada steps down the stairs and tries not to hold his breath. He can't believe something like this exists in England's house. It's been how many years since he started coming to London and only now thanks to another child conquest of the British Empire is he seeing all this? It's unbelievable.

A part of him has always known that England liked to dabble in dart arts of wizardry and whatever else, but to realize he actually has a basement - a secret basement - for all of his crazy magic pursuits? Canada has to shake his head and hold back laughter and wonder all at the same time.

Once they're a good distance down the stairs, he pauses and looks back. He forgot to make sure the shelf closed behind them. Wouldn't someone else see? Sure, this is England's house and everyone else here should be busy, but…

"It'll close on its own," Hong Kong says in a deadpan voice, as if reading his thoughts. "And I know how to find the way to open it again when we come back. A candle would still be nice, of course."

"Of - of course," Canada stammers, turning back to continue down the stairs. "You really do explore everything you can, don't you?"

"Not much else to do around here. It's kind of boring."

"Heh. Weird. He always tried to give us his full attention."

"You and...America?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he doesn't pay attention to me," Hong Kong says with a sigh. "I kind of wish he left me back at home instead of bringing me over here. I feel like I'm going to be cursed."

Canada snickers at that one. "Don't we all."

Silence descends between them again until Canada finds the end of the stairs. He's a little unsteady as he finds solid ground. When he squints, he assumes it's rock and stone, too, with maybe a rug on the floor a little bit away from them. Interesting. This could be where England originally stayed when he was younger. This could mean England's house and property is a lot older than any of them ever imagined. He can practically feel the historical significance of the area sinking into him, and it's not even his land!

Taking a deep breath, Canada lets it out slowly as he leads Hong Kong around to a wall. If England comes down here often, then there should be a place for candles and the like down here, right? Surely England wouldn't come down every time with a candle or lamp in hand. Ah! This might yield results.

He sets his hand on some kind of furniture, what seems to be old wood by the broken feel scraping at his fingers. He touches lightly, hoping he doesn't end up with splinters for all this searching. Parchments. Books. Squinting his eyes, he manages to make out the shadowy contours of an old desk of some sort with shelves above it.

On the desk it feels like he touches the coarse pages of an old book, so he moves his hand to a bottle and a quill. Wow. England really does keep to old habits when he's alone,doesn't he? Always a traditionalist. Canada sighs and is about to give up in his search for a candle when his hand runs across something cold to the touch. Cold, like an old metal. He frowns and tries to make out what he's found with the little light in the area. Grasping what feels like a handle, he lifts the object out away from the desk and brings it close to his eyes.

"Oh, good," Canada says with a light smile. "Now I just need to figure out how to light it."

When he lowers the candle slightly, Hong Kong moves around and cups his hand around the wick. Canada is about to protest, but then light explodes into being and the child nation steps back, going back to a noticeable distance, oversized sleeves up against his mouth. Canada blinks at the fire now in his hands, the candle wax dripping into the cool iron holder.

He turns to Hong Kong. "How did -"

"England isn't the only one with magic," Hong Kong states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You do know that, right?"

"Uh. No, I didn't." He clears his throat. "Did you learn from him?"

"Oh please," the child says, rolling his eyes, the shadows playing against his brown eyes. "I'm from China. Eastern magic is very different and much older besides."

"But you're -"

"I still come from the East. It's kind of inbred in us there."

"Oh. Wow. Okay."

Hong Kong nods slowly, his eyes dazing out before snapping back into focus and pointing toward a dark alcove in the stone basement. "This way. I think I can hear someone screaming."

Canada is all too quick to follow.

~!~

Arthur Kirkland grimaces as Gilbert falls to the floor, gripping at his chest, and lets loose with the harshest scream yet. He can't make himself move forward and help. The nation part of him doesn't care enough about an enemy. Yet his heart aches for a lost friend.

They weren't always close, of course. Friends and enemies around Europe can change at the flip of a coin, but when they did have an alliance, it was one Arthur enjoyed, no matter how much he scoffed at the raucous battle-loving bloodthirsty albino nation. Prussia never could keep himself under control when he went into a fight. He'd always been the stubborn asshole in the midst of a battle, relishing in the rush more than most of them.

And it was Gilbert's fault that things fell apart with America. Arthur swallows a scowl at the memory, glancing over to the adult nation in his thoughts. America had grown up too fast, sure, but England should have been able to keep that upstart brat in his territory. He would have been such an amazing asset to the British Empire had he stayed. But Prussia had to go and fight Austria on Europe after their alliance while France caused problems all over the rest of his territory and it just hadn't been worth it to his country's leaders to make America heel to his power.

Now, though, now America is a superpower in his own right. Now, Alfred stands beside him instead of behind him. It won't be long before the one he raised steps in front and takes over the world in England's place, though the boy goes about it differently.

Another scream from Gilbert breaks England's thoughts. This isn't about America now. He needs to focus. He doesn't want to focus on his friend's pain, but he needs to stand by and witness what he's done. He's been part of the council responsible for all this pain on one of their own.

Sure, his own nation, his leaders, are completely against Prussia and the Prussian ideals, but tearing the nation's heart out of Gilbert is going to go down as one of the worst things Arthur has ever done. He can't believe it's come to this. Beating each other in battle in one thing. Conquering other nations and taking them under his wing… that's all normal. Imperialism is the current state of the world, even though he feels it trying to change.

But this?

God, what have I done?

A bird tweets and flies around, landing on the back of the chair that Gilbert had so obstinately refused to sit in. England frowns at the yellow chick, hardly having noticed its presence this whole time. He supposes he's been too used to seeing that spark of yellow hanging around the albino nation.

He stares at the bird now, wondering what, if anything, it could be saying to Gilbert. Those two have been closer than England and his magical creatures. Gilbird, as he's known. It'll be interesting to see such a tiny chick flying around Russia's territory from now on. He shudders just thinking of it.

Thankfully, he won't have to face it himself. Things are tense with the Soviet Union. England has a feeling they always will be, even if he's been counted as an ally during this war. One cannot easily forget the past, after all. Arthur spares a glance back toward his secret passage down to his old basement, frowning at the sense of someone watching. Focusing in on the feeling, he ends up rolling his eyes.

Hopefully Canada doesn't do anything drastic.

~!~

Canada has to hold himself back from doing something drastic as he watches the proceedings behind the safety of this secret passage. Hong Kong graciously pulled out the correct wooden panels of the bookshelf, along with pushing aside the necessary books, to create a space for them to watch everything happening the room beyond. This allowed Matthew to see the special council consisting of France, America, the Soviet Union, and England either sitting at the half moon table or standing nearby while Prussia screamed in obvious agony. No one did a thing to help the poor nation, either; they simply watched - or avoided watching depending on the nation.

Canada wants to break through the shelf so bad as he listens to the man he loves releasing such agonized sounds. Instead, he has to hold himself back and twitch with the effort. His hands clench by his sides and his teeth chew into his bottom lip.

He can't believe it's actually happening now. Prussia is officially losing his nation, then. Nothing he did may any sort of dent in their plans. He should have tried harder. They must have been something he could have done to prevent this. Even if no one takes him seriously, someone should have listened to him if he pressed long enough.

But, no, it's too late. It's too late for wishing he had done more. Too late for trying. It's been done and Prussia is in pain. Gilbert is in pain.

"Damn it," he whispers. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."

Vision blurring, he pulls away from the hole and sits down against the nearby wall. Lowering his head, he tries to banish the sound of Gilbert's screams. He knows he won't ever forget the image of the one he loves writing on the ground like that. He knows he'll always blame himself for not trying harder to convince the others.

When the noise comes to an abrupt halt, Canada lifts his head, eyes wide. That can't mean he's disappeared, right? He can't be gone. Bringing a hand to his own chest, Matthew fights the tears as much as possible. He's too scared to look.

"Huh," Hong Kong says into the silence. "That big guy is picking him up now. I wonder why."

Canada jerks his head up. "Wait. What?"

"The big guy in all the winter clothes. He's picked up Prussia and is taking him out. Guess he passed out or something."

"Wait. Really?"

"How many times do you want me to say it?" Hong Kong snaps, showing more emotion in his voice than he has thus far. "My English isn't that bad, is it?"

"Oh, uh, no, sorry," Canada says, getting to his feet; he looks through the hole to see what Hong Kong is talking about, and then spins around. "I have to catch them before they leave. I need to know what's happening now."

"Hey, don't leave me!"

At Hong Kong's cry, Canada rolls his eyes but makes sure to grab the child nation by the hand before rushing down the steps. He takes them two at a time, one hand on Hong Kong, the other holding the candle. Once he gets down to the bottom floor, he searches for the exit stairway, getting more frustrated as the seconds tick by.

Finally, Hong Kong nudges him and snatches at the candle. Canada hands the light over, and then the child nation points with his sleeve toward a dark opening. Taking the hint, Matthew nods, then races into the dark, finding a familiar stairway that leads him up to the first bookcase. He leaves Hong Kong behind with the light, but in no time he's out of the secret passages and into the hallway like a normal person again.

Okay, front door. Without a second thought, he rushes down the halls until he reaches the front door of England's home. He pushes the door open and sees Russia carrying a still unconscious Prussia in his arms. Or, well, it's not Prussia anymore. Whatever. Gilbert wouldn't care. In fact, Gil would probably like to still be called Prussia, even if he's representing something else now, or representing no one.

"Wait!"

Russia turns around and hums. "Oh. Canada. Interesting."

"Uh, yeah, sorry," Matthew says, swallowing as he tries to catch his breath. "Where are you taking him?"

"Hm? Oh, Prussia is one of mine now, so he will live with me." Russia smiles. "He will be good part of family."

"He - what?"

"The territory he controls will no more be called Prussia, but he still under me now. Maybe one day you will be part of family as well, da ?"

Bringing a hand to his pounding heart, Canada laughs lightly. "Yeah, I don't think so. No offense."

Russia nods his head in acquiescence and then turns around. "I must be going now. It is long way to home."

"Ah - but -"

"Canada!" This exclamation comes from England, who puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him from running. "Don't interfere."

With wide eyes, he spins to face England. "But!"

A little yellow bird flies through the air, cheeps near his face, and then lands on his shoulder. Matthew blinks at the strange occurrence, then stares at England's shaking head. He doesn't understand what's going on. Prussia is no longer Prussia. He understands that much, but what does Russia mean by him being under Soviet control now?

He clenches his jaw and bares his teeth at England, brushing the hand from his shoulder. "What did you do ?"

England narrows his eyes at his attitude, but he runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "Germany is split in two between Western and Eastern halves. Gilbert now represents the Eastern side, and Russia will oversee him as we oversee the West."

"You - you can't -"

"You sound like Gilbert. Whatever your feelings on the matter, Canada, it's been done and nothing will change it now."

"But that's just -" Canada clenches his hands and spins around to view Russia disappearing with Gilbert. "I'm glad he's alive, but -"

The bird chirps again and Matthew lifts his head to see the yellow chick flying around his head. He stares for a while, not understanding, and then it dawns on him at last. That's Gilbird. The bird that's always with Gilbert. Why is he not with his owner? Why is he here?

Holding out his palm, he waits for the bird to land, then stares back into the tiny black eyes. He puffs out his breath and takes in a slow, deep one in its stead. Did Gilbert really leave the bird with him? Why? What could that possibly mean? It's not like he could communicate with the little yellow chick.

"Matthieu," says a voice very different from England's. Matthew lifts his gaze to meet the kind, but awfully sad eyes of France. "That bird is special. You should try writing a letter to Gilbert. He'll take it to him wherever he ends up."

"Write a letter?" Matthew tilts his head. "Really?"

England rolls his eyes and glares at France. "Get off my property, frog. You're no longer needed here."

France shrugs but turns a smile to Canada as he walks down the front porch steps. "Believe me, Matthieu. That's why he's left you Gilbird. Gil wouldn't give up his precious bird otherwise."

"Oh," Matthew breathes, staring at the bird who was now cleaning his feathers. "Okay. I will."

I will write so many letters he'll grow sick of me. Until we can meet again, at least. However long that takes.

Historical Notes:

1) One of my favorite history factoids is that Frederick the Great of Prussia made an alliance with Britain and then went and decided the alliance meant he could attack Austria; Britain was not happy because they were dealing with issues in the New World at the time.

2)Hong Kong's outfit is called a "duangua" I believe - forgive Canada for not knowing the exact word lol