It had taken an hour of explanation to get Ivan to accept that Belarus was really with Hungary and had no intention of any violence—marriage—towards him. Or Matvey— not the marriage part obviously. Now she was trying get him to:

"Call him."

"Sister… I don't…"

"Call. Him. Brother, you can't just leave him hanging for weeks. So call him."

Ivan sighed, taking a deep breath and finally giving in despite the twisting in his gut and picked up the phone.

He had been holding off. He couldn't help but wonder if Matthew had been happy to get away and that's why he hadn't been making any attempts to contact him. The thought made a bubble of anger fizzle acidicly in his throat, making him feel sick. He forced it down hard as his sister patted him on the shoulder. He dialed France's number.

Just when he thought he might go to voicemail a click came and a stiff sounding England spoke.

"Hello, this is the United Kingdom, with whom am I speaking?"

"Privyet Arthur, this is Ivan." There was silence for a few moments and then England growled over the line.

"What in the bloody hell do you want?"

"Could I speak with Matvey?"

"No." the reply was curt and absolutely freezing. "He doesn't want to speak too you… and its MATTHEW."

Ivan felt the anger return along with a twinge of hurt at these words.

"He…does not?"

"No you dumb sod, he doesn't want anything to do with you! Now go wank off you git!"

Ivan could have sworn he heard something break on the other end as the receiver was slammed down with deafening force.

"What did he say?"

"He… wants' nothing to do with me…"

Ivan fumed. Matthew didn't want anything to do with him? He didn't want to speak to him? Screw pleasing his loves family. If this was true there was going to be hell to pay. If it was true he knew that the wall in the back of his soul would break, it was still weak. A betrayal would break it down like a flame devouring a piece of rice paper. His anger would come back and every single god forsaken person in Matthew's family would pay in blood.

X*X*X*X*X

Matthew returned from shopping mulling over the end of what sounded like a very irate phone call he had heard before he left to go shopping, it had been curious. Catching Arthur yelling at the top of his lungs that early in the morning…

"No you dumb sod! He doesn't want anything to do with you after what you did to him! Now go wank off! If you call again I'll consider it an act of war!" the sound of the phone being slammed down made Matthew wince—he hoped it wasn't broken…—as he peeked around the corner of the kitchen door to see a fuming Englishman with one hand still on the receiver as if hoping to grind a nonexistent spider to a pulp between it and the hook.

"Ehm… who was that?" Arthur jumped a little at the sound of his voice and spun around.

"Oh no one, no one. Just a sodding telemarketer."

Matthew doubted this was actually true but at the same time… Matthew frowned curiously as he stepped inside. He was home earlier than was expected with his arm hooked around a bag of groceries. It was clear that Arthur had been lying to him… and if he was lying to him about something like that it must have something to do with him.

He was walking by the door to the living room on his way to the kitchen when someone said his name and he froze.

"… I cant believe that Russian Bastard had the guts to call after what he's done 'I vant to speak to leetle Matvey' my ass." Matthew didn't hear anything else after this. As soon as those words registered he was through the living room door, the bag of groceries slipping from his grasp and dropping to the ground with a crash. The expression on his face as Arthur and Francis stared at him was wild with desperate hope.

"Ivan called?" he gasped. "Ivan wanted to talk to me?" the expressions on the two men's faces were very different. Francis's was a look on the brink of realization and Arthur's was a look of confusion and anger. Arthur got up, looking awkward. " Yes…"

"When! This morning?"

"Why do you want to know? After what that bastard did- oh I'm-" it was to late to take it back. Matthew looked stunned. Anger welled up inside him, he was sick of this; so angry that no one had thought to ask. His eyes flamed, his teeth clenched and his entire body went rigid.

"Excuse me? Have any of you besides Toris asked me what he did to me? NO! For you're information he didn't do ANYTHING to me! If you had bothered to ASK you would know that!" Arthur bristled.

"I find it bloody hard to believe that that git didn't do a bloody thing when there are bruises all over you bloody wrists and you came home with bullets in your body and pieces of glass stuck in your hands! He didn't do anything? BLEEDING HELL! YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT? What do you think I'm daft?"

"He didn't do it on purpose! He would never hurt me on purpose! He loves me!"

His fists were clenched at his sides his chest heaving and his eyes narrowed with wrath and conviction. Arthur could do nothing but stand frozen in shock at the words that had just come out of his son's mouth.

"W-what?" Matthew seemed to calm down a bit and he suddenly looked nervous.

"H-he loves me. A-and I l-love him…" Arthur looked at him like he was crazy, decided he was and promptly stepped forward and knocked him over the head, knocking him out easily.

"A-Arthur!" Francis sounded horrified.

"Francis, it was necessary! He's clearly been brainwashed to the point of Stockholm syndrome."

"Oui. But was it really necessary to knock Mon petite Mattie out cold?"

"We need to keep him safe! Go call Alfred and tell him Russia is coming for his brother!" He slung Matthew over his shoulder and carried him up stairs where he handcuffed him to the headboard by one wrist. Francis came in a moment later.

"Is Russia really coming?"

"Yes, he said he was coming to get Matthew. Not bloody likely."

X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X

OK, Ch. 13 is now up, I feel like I'm actually getting somewhere! Review please~!

~Sai