Title: Between You and Me

Authoress: Ankaris123

Summary: More-than-one-shot. They used to be one; just North America. Now they were two, and two they will stay. No matter how much they wanted it all back.

Important Note: I would like to clarify that instances of the term North America specifically refers to Canada and the United States as one entity (in a way, Anglo-America although that's not entirely correct). I've appended this note onto the first chapter.

A/Ns: And here's the finale. I don't think I wrote it out quite right but I hope it's not that bad. Also, this fic has way too much crying in it. Read on!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

America is a nation with many flaws, but hopes so vast only the cowardly would refuse to acknowledge them. – James Michener

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"No more beating around the bush, Mattie. Just give me a straight answer already," said America, pinching the bridge of his nose. Presently, they were perched on the edge of the superpower's hotel room bed. They had arrived together by plane earlier that morning, sat through the tedious but short world meeting, and retired to America's room after a brief, unsatisfying dinner.

Canada wrung his hands apprehensively, unable to look his brother in the face. He had been trying to avoid this conversation for months now and it looked like he wasn't going to get off easy this time. Time, yes, time was running out. He felt his chest tighten.

"If...if I do,' he began deliberately, 'will you promise me one thing?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I didn't tell you what it is yet."

"So? I'd do anything for you." The effortless way he said those words, and meant them, struck chord in him and set his chest a-fluttering. The weary smile directed at him caused his cheeks to redden.

This has to stop. Really, what am I thinking?

"Besides, you'd never hurt me intentionally," he chuckled, leaning against him in evident weariness. Canada grimaced at the remark, straightening a little to accommodate the burden of the body resting against him.

But I have. You and I both know this. Quit making me out to be nicer than I am.

"So what's your request, Matt?"

He looked up finally, observing America's tired face with sad violet eyes. The way his brother's body slouched screamed of fatigue; the heavy-lidded blue eyes spoke of long nights with his laptop. His short blond hair was messy, results of constantly being run through by a tense hand in frustration. He had not taken the time to change into a fresh set of clothes; the shirt buttons were still done up in the wrong order. Behind him, the work desk was buried under the heaps upon heaps of paperwork, some strewn over the floor from the overload; the small portable computer's screen was bright with text and incoming emails.

You're always trying to do so much. Too much.

He placed his hand over Alfred's and squeezed comfortingly.

"Don't do this all on your own. You can depend on other people too." You can depend on me.

Swallowing hard, he waited for America's reply, losing himself in his self-doubt.

But I don't think that's enough. Not even close.

Alfred took his hand in both of his, startling him out of his thoughts. He gazed imploringly into his younger brother's eyes and spoke firmly.

"When it comes to it, I want the 'other people' to be you."

No. No, not 'when', 'if', it should be 'If'. But even then it would be too late anyways.

The tears rolled down his cheeks as he allowed Alfred to hold him and comfort him with his presence.

"You didn't, you didn't promise..." he choked through the sobs and clutching onto the starched fabric. A large hand stroked his hair in a soothing manner.

"Hey, you've been avoiding my question. Aren't I allowed to avoid this promise for a while too?" his voice was soft and kind, reassuringly teasing. "Come on, Mattie, play fair. I didn't say no after all. It's your turn now, tell me. Whatever you say, I'll accept it."

Matthew leaned in to the welcome embrace, relaxing under the gentle petting and their companionable silence.

I can't lose all this. I won't let myself let you go.

"I..." He tried to answer but the words got caught in his emotion-constricted throat. The steady hands held him firm and understanding, a pillar of strength that he didn't deserve.

But I'm a coward, a hypocrite. I don't want to lose myself by accepting you. But I also don't want to lose you by accepting only me. But I'm running out of time. You're running out of time, yet I…

"And whatever you do, don't give me a pity answer, Mattie. Only say what you really truly believe. That's all I can ask of you. I don't want you to lie to yourself."

And if what I say hurts you? When a lie would make us both feel better? You're such a jerk, Alfred. You're forcing me to choose the option that makes us both worse off. Just because you think it's the correct answer.

Just because you don't want to drag me down with you when..., if the time comes.

Admitting it as a future certainty set the tears flowing again. How many times has he cried in the past week? How many times has he broken down, despairing in his uselessness? There had to be something he could do. Anything would do.

"I...I-I'm sorry," he cried. He couldn't say it. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

"Shh, it's not your fault. Don't worry, come on, don't cry."

"I'm s-sorry...."

They held onto each other until they were both calm and Matthew had exhausted his tears. His voice was thick when he next spoke.

"...the public conference is tomorrow."

"I know."

"You'll be vulnerable. Dangerous people could get in-"

"My guys will take care of it. They've got it under control."

"But what if-"

"Matthew." Blue eyes stared into his adamantly. "I'll be fine."

No, you won't.

"This is just a formality. I can't hide from my people for any longer."

You can. But, you just have to play the hero, don't you?

"There will always be a risk. It's part of politics."

Don't tell me it's worth it. Don't say 'I'm willing to take that risk'.

"...whatever happens will happen regardless. I don't have a choice in this matter."

Liar.

"Please believe in me? Please? Stay with me tonight."

He nodded. It was all he could do.

They laid there under the duvet in the darkness of early morning, close together although the double mattress gave adequate room for the two of them to sleep comfortably.

America wasn't asleep. He couldn't sleep no matter how much his aching body protested for rest. If he closed his eyes and drifted away, he would not be able to savour this moment for as long as possible. Dreams always had a shortening effect and with his havoc-wrecked mind, a night terror was more than likely to surface.

A shaft of moonlight pierced the black, illuminating a cold white slice of plaster ceiling. He observed it in blurry fascination.

"You asleep, Matt?"

No response.

"I've thought about it a lot and I guess I haven't actually told you my reasons yet. Hear me out, will you?"

Still nothing.

"When we were younger, younger than now anyways, I was always ranting and raving about returning to the old, to the way we began."

He pulled the duvet a little higher over their shoulders.

"I still miss those times. I really do. I was serious about it back then. And I still am."

Turning over, he squinted at his brother, watching the hypnotic rise and fall of his torso.

"But I've given up on that. I know now that it's impossible."

The hand next to his twitched.

"I don't want us to become the old North America. I want us to be the new North America, both Canada and the United States; the countries we are now, the ones that grew with us and shaped us. It's laughable, yeah, but we can make it work. We're part of what they call the New World, right? Let's make that happen, a new world."

The only reply was a soft exhale.

They woke up the next morning to the golden light of the rising sun through the parted curtains. Actually, Canada had risen even earlier than that, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching his brother doze on. Even in sleep, he looked burned out.

Finally the sunlight getting the better of him, Alfred groaned, rolled over, and burrowed deeper into the rumpled sheets. He blinked groggily at the digital clock and tried to sit up only to be pushed back down.

"Rest for a little longer, no buts," his brother insisted in his usual quiet voice, tucking him back in. "I'll get you some breakfast. Coffee?"

"Make it black, I need something to keep me awake," said the disgruntled lump in the bed. Canada pressed a fleeting kiss to his forehead and grabbed the leather wallet off the side table.

After landing in a private airport in Washington D.C., he was immediately chauffeured to the conference building and escorted through the back entrance crushed in the middle of an eight person bodyguard ring.

The scene was of sheer pandemonium. Everyone was shouting instructions, directions, complaints, and reprimands in every direction. The floor was so thick with hastily-lain electrical wires it was difficult not to trip.

"Here is your headset, sir," a tall, clean-cut man in typical Secret Service attire said, pushing the tiny communications device into the palm of his hand. "We've got you covered, but just in case, you do remember the emergency procedures?"

"Of course, who do you think you're talking to?"

"Good, break a leg out there." The man winked in a casual, reassuring manner but it did nothing to still his nerves. His clammy fingers wrinkled the manila envelope clutched at his side, heart thudding.

A stern-faced woman in a tidy two-piece suit came up from behind him and smoothed down his collar, tucked loose strands of hair out of the way, muttering urgently, "You're on in ten, sir," and pointed him towards the side door before rushing away.

Taking deep breaths, he wound his way through the mass of electricians, building security, and a whole collection of other workers before stopping just before the door frame.

Sighing deeply, he plunged into the packed room filled with a sea of eager reporters and was immediately swamped with flashes of camera light. Without wasting any time, he climbed onto the stage and stood behind the podium, affixing his gaze to the back wall while his jittery hands fumbled for his written speech. Someone at the foot of the stage yelled for everyone to be quiet. A restless hush fell upon the crowd like an invisible blanket.

It lasted all but three minutes into his opening speech before he was bombarded by questions.

"Sir, what do you intend to-"

"-recent surveys show that the majority of American citizens are opposed to-"

"-would like to know the reason behind-"

Several black suited men roared for the crowd to remain calm and state their questions in an orderly fashion. Several reporters had to be restrained physically and a few were even removed from the conference room until they settled down enough for further questioning. A young women with bright eyes and a breathless expression stood up, compact recorder in hand.

"Sir, what is your personal opinion on the matter?"

"I-"

There was a gunshot and Canada felt the bullet bite into his chest. As he fell backwards, a collective gasp rose from the crowd.

I'm so selfish.

Footsteps thundered onto the stage, lights were flashing everywhere, some people were screaming, but it was all congealing into one big haze.

I'm so selfish that I'd rather leave you to suffer because I'm too afraid to be alone.

Somebody was slapping his face, trying to rouse him.

"-Jones, Mr. Jones? Please respond. Give any response. Mr. Jones!"

Hands pulled his bloodstained shirt away to inspect the bleeding wound. It was useless. The pain bled out of his body, soaking into the carpeting.

Canada gazed up at the ceiling, obscured by those who hovered over him, and was amazed to find a skylight there. Beyond the glass was an expanse of pure blue, free of clouds.

He smiled.

"...Alfred..." His words were lost in the clamour around him, eyelids growing heavy.

"My answer is yes, yes…I do too."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/Ns: Who didn't see that coming? Even I saw it coming before I even thought of it, that's how predictable it was. Not says it like a Servant of Evil homage. And in case you don't know, Matthew drugged the coffee. What the question was I'll leave up to your interpretation. This ending was kind of corny and unoriginal but it wouldn't stop bothering me so I gave it some leeway and let it write itself.

Thank you very much for reading all the way to end! And many thanks to those who gave their support.