Harper sat in Matthew's living room, sipping on some maple-sweetened tea. Ever since he came back from his impromptu vacation, the Nation had been acting off. He was suspicious of everything, he was paranoid, he wasn't sleeping at night anymore.

The Country was currently glancing between himself and the door, as if urging him to leave, and Harper cleared his throat.

"Matthew, it has come to my attention that you were at Mr. Russia's this past month. May I ask why that was?" He watched as the other man flinched. In truth, Harper had only learned where Matthew had gone to a few moments ago, from Kumajirou, while the Country was preparing the tea in the kitchen.

"I-I just needed to get away, is all."

Harper nodded. "Well, I hope that you aren't too stressed out. I noticed that you aren't looking too good."

"How so?" Matthew asked, seemingly genuinely curious.

"You're pale, and you look like you have a fever. You look miserable." And he did. Notable weight had been lost, though it looked like he had gained some back in his month with Mr. Russia. He had more color to his skin, though that could be from the flush of the fever. The dark circles under his eyes had diminished.

"I'm fine." The voice was quavering with either fear or pain, Harper didn't know. Something smelled wrong here. He sipped more tea.

"That's good." Harper sat his cup down and stood. "If you'll excuse me? I just swung by to check on you."

"Check on me?"

"You haven't been to work yet. I know that jet lag is harsh, but not this bad. We were worried because you hadn't shown up at the office.

"In fact," Harper said, watching as Matthew got to his feet to escort him to the door, "If you could come down, even for just a few moments, and help with some important matters later today?"

"Can't you handle it?" The question was asked almost caustically, and Harper balked for a moment. The normally gentle and eager to please Country was glaring at him. They were at the front door, and Harper put his coat on. He turned to Matthew.

"Not without you; I may be seen as the leader, but you are the Personification of the Country of Canada. What goes on in this land and the government should only benefit you, and we can't know for sure that it will unless you are there to say yes or no," Harper said sharply. Matthew looked taken aback for a moment.

"Listen, Matthew, I'm not sure what happened. Earlier, after the G8 meeting, you seemed off. If you were hiding something, you did a good job. But the effects of whatever you were hiding, or still are hiding, are wearing you down, and wearing down the Country of Canada.

"I'm not sure if you're trip to Mr. Russia's house was a good thing or not. But I don't have to. I just hope that you know what you're doing." He turned around and opened the door, letting in the chilly morning air. His breath immediately fogged.

"I expect to see you sometime this afternoon, if only for a few moments."

"I'll be there," Matthew said quietly.


When he showed up later that afternoon, freshly showered and clutching Kumajirou, he was greeted warmly by his secretary.

"Hello, Mr. Williams," she chirped. "How was your vacation?"

"It went well," Matthew answered. Even now, when he was about to find out if his country was turning on him or not, he was polite. He could hit himself.

"That's good. There's some paper work for you on your desk, and a four-thirty meeting was called," she chattered as she followed him into his office. "You received several calls from Mr. Jones, as well. He seemed distressed." She sighed and pushed her bangs behind her ear wearily. "If I may be so bold, I think it's time to change the phone number again."

Matthew nodded in agreement. While he loved his brother to death, the man was over bearing and clingy to the extreme.

"Anyway, we're glad you're back!" she smiled before leaving and softly closing his office door behind her.

Matthew placed Kumajirou on his desk chair and checked his watch. He still had a couple hours before the meeting, he noticed. His phone rang as he reached out to grab it, startling him and making him freeze. A tug on his trousers from his bear shook him out of it and had him picking up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Mattie!" Alfred boomed. Matthew winced. "Where the hell have you been?"

"O-on vacation."

"Where? Why? Why didn't you answer your phone? Are you okay?"

"Alfred," Matthew sighed, leaning on the edge of his desk. He propped the phone between his shoulder and head so he could cross his arms. "I went to Russia's house because I didn't feel good and I needed to get away. It turns out it was a good thing I did that, too."

"Why?" the other demanded. "What could that commie tell you that Francis or Iggy or I couldn't?"

"I didn't want to get them involved," the Canadian said weakly. He brought up one hand to cradle the phone to his ear and lowered his shoulder. "You know how nosy they are."

"No, you just didn't want to worry anyone," Alfred said, shockingly acute. Matthew's eyes widened in response.

"Russia gave quite a bit to think about," Matthew defended, stuttering slightly.

"Like what?"

He froze. Did he tell his brother? Or did he hide it? Matthew cast his eyes about, thinking, before they rested on Kumajirou, who had fallen asleep on his chair. Telling his hot-headed brother would more than likely start another World War.

"Policies to better handle the tax cuts and what not," he said vaguely. Matthew wasn't even sure if there were any cuts, to be honest. "But I'm back now, and that's all that matters. And I'm feeling better than ever."

Well, maybe not better than ever, he thought to himself. His stomach cramped in a reminder that whatever had been bothering him was coming back.

"Whatever. I wanted to play with you, but you probably have to play catch-up instead."

"Yeah."

"Joy. I'll go see if Tony's around, I guess." The American hung up before Matthew could say anything, and he dropped the receiver back into its cradle.

He could be such a baby sometimes, the Canadian thought to himself. He sighed and gently pushed Kumajirou out of his chair. He had some work to do before the meeting.


"May I speak with you, privately?" Matthew asked Harper as the other officials were packing their things into leather briefcases. "Maybe in your office?"

"What? Oh, Mr. Williams! How nice to see you!" the leader replied, a wide grin on his face. "How are you?"

"May I have a word with you in your office?" the Nation repeated, not fazed by being ignored.

"Of course." Matthew watched while Harper packed his notes and computer in his case before holding the door open for him.

When they reached his office, Matthew shut the door and sat down in one of the chairs that sat opposite the desk, Kumajirou in his lap, and waited for Harper to settle back down into his own chair.

"Now, Mr. Williams, what can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering what, if anything, was going on. I've been feeling off lately," Matthew summarized, unwilling to go into detail.

"That's odd," Harper said, leaning back into his chair. "I'm sorry to hear you've not been feeling well, certainly. But, as far as I'm aware, nothing of that sort has been happening."

"I see. Maybe it's just my body, then."

The leader didn't seem to have heard him; he was reaching for his office phone. Kumajirou crawled up and over so that he was riding piggy-back as the Country stood. Harper started talking to whomever answered, and Matthew slipped out of the door.

The walk home, while chilly, helped clear up the fuzziness in his head. Matthew sighed, watching his breath mist and form a cloud in front of him before dissipating.

He nearly jumped in surprise when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and flipped it open, the text icon flashing on the small screen.

Did you find anything out?

It was Russia. Matthew sighed. He typed out "No, not yet" and sent it. After a few moments of no response, he shoved his phone into his coat pocket and walked the rest of the way home, his friend's warm fur protecting his neck from the biting cold that suddenly overtook him.

When he got home, Matthew booted up his computer in his office before heading towards the kitchen and started water for some specially blended tea, maple flavored of course, and watched Kumajirou waddle into the room, slipping on the linoleum of the floor.

His computer beeped from the other room, but he ignored it for now. He sat down with his tea and placed a cookie into his bear's paw. Matthew sipped at his tea, letting the warmth ease his headache and soothe his stomach.

"Who should we go to, should the people rebel?" he asked.

"They won't," Kumajirou said. He scrambled into a chair across from the Canadian and grabbed another cookie.

"But they are! I've felt like crap since I came back, which means that something big is happening. I'm pretty sure that it's the people, not Mr. Harper, doing it."

"Why?"

"Because, Kumajita, Mr. Harper let me go through his paperwork today at the meeting, with no qualms and no secrets. It is possible that the people are doing it without the government's knowledge."

"Doubtful."

Matthew sighed and swallowed his tea down, ignoring the burn, and then went to the office. The rolling chair in front of his desk was cold, and he shivered as he sat down. He opened his internet browser, and from there logged in to his personal email.

A new message sat in his inbox, the icon pulsing gently. That, he figured, was the noise the computer made when he booted it up.

The message was from Russia, who had sent: "I am glad to hear that your boss doesn't seem to be conspiring against you. I know how it feels to have your power and trust ripped out from under you.

Just remember that if you feel you ever need a place to stay, my house is open to you. Be it for a few days or a few years, you are welcome here.

But, how they say, no pressure, da?"

Matthew sighed and propped his head in his hands, combing his fingers through unruly hair before tugging the keyboard closer to himself and typing out: "Thanks. I may have to take you up on your offer. It seems like it's the people rejecting my presence, not my boss. He was very open with me, and let me go through the paper work that I missed while I was at your house."

He pressed "enter" and watched as mail sent. He shut off the monitor and heaved himself to his feet.


Ivan growled to himself, re-reading the email the smaller Country sent. Anger made fire prick his scalp, and the scars that laced his body itch. He slammed his large fist on the wooden desk, making his laptop jump and clatter.

He flipped the lid down and stood. Ivan reached for his vodka, but the discovery of the bottle's emptiness made him throw the glass container across his study, and it shattered against the wall.

The wind outside, the bringer of more snow, pelted ice against the window that he sat next to. Ivan rolled his chair over, so that he was sitting in front of it, and placed his elbows on the sill. Sighing, he rested his forehead on the cool glass. He just wanted the day to end.

The house creaked ominously, and Ivan froze as he caught his reflection in the window. The dark sky made a good background, making him and the person standing behind him, a knife glittering in her hand, clearly visible.

Ivan growled again.

God dammit.


A.N.: Hi. So...yeah. Chapter ten. I know that my writing style is childish, and not as mature-sounding as I'd like it to be, which makes it hard to read. For that I apologize. I also ask that you awesome people stick with me while I grow as a writer.

In other news, I had a hell of a time logging into FFN. I don't know why. I had made another account and was planning to just upload the chapters I had for this story onto it, but when I tried to log in it said I didn't have a valid email...even though it had sent the activation code to the "invalid email address". So, on a whim, I decided to try to log on to this account.

Yay.

Anyways, thank you guys so much for the follows and such. I know I'm slow, but please bear with me. Please, please, please review and tell me what you think!