A/N- Uwaaah~ I promised you an early update and I took forever instead! I'm sorry guys ;w; Blame the most crippling writer's block I have ever faced, a brand new timetable in school coupled with excruciating amounts of homework and also having to prepare for my school trip to Austria! Which I will be going on in *checks clock* 7 hours... I should probably get some sleep... (4 am flights for the loss. OTL). At least I (Finally) get my summer holidays after that! Six weeks of freedom!

Anyway, I feel really bad about leaving it so long, please forgive me, and on with the story~

Chapter 17- Apologies

Slowly, he looked up at America and saw eyes that promised murder. Murder that he knew he deserved.

America stormed forward until he was face to face with Russia. His breathing was heavy and his eyes burned into the Russian. "F*cking commie..." He whispered in a deadly tone. "How dare you hurt my brother... I'm going to f*cking kill you." And with that, America raised his fist above his head and brought it down on Russia's jaw. Canada's eyes widened in surprise and his brother raised his fist for another blow, his jaw set in a grim line. Russia, however, barely reacted. He knew he deserved this. This and so much more.

The American's fist hit its mark again and Canada flinched on the other side of the room. "B-brother! W-what are you doing?"

"I'm giving this bastard what he deserves." America snapped, landing a couple more blows. Fist met flesh and blood was spilt, but Russia only stared straight ahead as his face was beaten by the blonde. His lack of reaction brought tears to Canada's eyes.

Yes, the Russian had hurt him, but only because he missed him, and wanted him back so badly. He hadn't meant to hurt him. He didn't deserve this.

"Alfred! Stop it!" Canada shouted, standing up, only to be pulled back down by France.

"Mon cher, you cannot be serious?" he asked in surprise, looking into his son's eyes.

Canada only looked down at the ground in discomfort. He didn't know what to think. Russia had hurt him, and on several occasions broken his heart, but every time he had managed to bounce back and truly show that he cared. He always had good reason for what he did and had Canada's best interests at heart. Russia never meant to hurt him, this was all just a big mistake.

Canada raised his head to look into his father's blue eyes, but quickly looked down, slightly embarrassed. He spoke in a quiet voice. "I-I know... that it seems like... Russia's the bad guy... but he didn't mean to do it, he didn't know what he was doing! And... and..." Canada was mumbling now, but everyone in the room strained their ears in order to hear him, even America who had momentarily ceased his attack. "He's the only one... the only one who noticed that I was alone, the only one who made me feel like I exist... and... I still love him..." He finished in a whisper.

The whole room stared at him in shock, including Russia, who had finally looked up at the boy. Canada's fists were clenched on his knees and he was looking down, unable to look his family in the eye. Suddenly, as if sensing the Russian's gaze on him, Canada looked up in the man's violet eyes.

"M-Matvey...?" He began, "You... you still love me?... You don't hate me?" Canada gave him a small smile and opened his mouth to speak but before he could, a fist flew across the Russian's face, causing him to stumble back a few steps.

"Alfred! What are you doing?" Canada yelled, scrambling to his feet. He tried to run over and stop his brother, but England held him back, grabbing him by the forearms. "Let me go! Alfred, Stop this!" He shouted struggling against the Brits arms.

Again and again America struck Russia, while Canada screamed in the background, begging for him to stop. Russia attempted to get up but he couldn't. He would never admit it, but America was his equal in strength and the pure anger driving his attack made it almost impossible for him to make a comeback.

"Alfred STOP! Why are you doing this?"

That made him pause.

For a moment, America stopped the attack and turned to his brother, panting heavily from his anger.

"Why am I doing this? Because he f*cking hurt you! And if we didn't come in when we did he would have killed you! He has to pay for this. He f*cking deserves to DIE!"

Canada bit his lip anxiously and watched in horror as his brother reached into his jacket and pulled out... a gun. His eyes widened in horror.

Russia stumbled to his feet, cradling his jaw in his hands, a frown on his face, oblivious to the danger he was in. He raised his gaze, only to be met with the barrel of a gun, pointed at his head.

"ALFRED NO! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD NO!" Canada screamed, his voice cracking. Desperately, he struggled against England's arms and managed to break free, not that England was trying much, he was too shocked by what his son was about to do.

"Piece of f*ck..." America mumbled as he glared down at Russia and cocked the gun.

"Amérique! Think what you are doing!"

"You idiot, don't kill him!"

Two voices penetrated the air but America wasn't listening, gently he fingered the trigger, a murderous expression on his face.

Russia's eyes widened and he took a shuddering breath. Calmly, he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable bullet, but it never came. A hush descended upon the room and slowly, Russia opened his eye a crack, only to widen his eyes and gasp when he saw Canada standing in front of him, one hand over the barrel of the gun.

Canada's expression was stony but tears in the corner of his eyes betrayed his true feelings. "A-Alfred..." He said quietly, "I d-don't want you hurting him. Yes, he hurt me, b-but I forgive him... I love him..."

Various emotions flashed across America's face, ranging from confusion, to hurt and finally, anger. His eyes blazed as he glared, not at Russia, but at Canada. "You're a lost cause." He spat. "Well, don't come crying to me when he tries to kill you again." And with that, the American pocketed the gun and turned towards the door. Canada's eyes widened as his brother walked angrily away and a gasp escaped his lips.

"Alfred wait! Please don't be angry-" He began, only to be cut off by the sound of the door slamming.

Everyone stared as the door trembled from the force with which it had been slammed and silence spread across the room. Suddenly a sniffle broke through the air and all gazes turned to the small Canadian, who quickly covered his face, as if to hide from their stares. England and France stared at each other in dismay, both wondering how the day could have ended up so badly, how things could have gone so wrong. England furrowed his brow sadly. He didn't want this. Not at all. All he'd wanted was for his son to be happy, and safe, but it seemed he's only made things worse. Quickly, he stole a glance over at the Frenchman and saw his own thoughts reflected in the other's expression.

Both of them felt responsible for everything that had happened and yet neither did anything, too afraid of what the boy would think of them to comfort him, so Canada cried alone.

His sobs echoed around the room and silently, Canada cursed himself for being so weak. He wanted to be strong, to be brave and to deal with the problems he faced but he couldn't help it. No matter how hard he tried to keep a strong face, the mask always slipped.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered, wiping his eyes, "I-I didn't mean to o-over react..."

Russia frowned as he watched tears unwillingly slip down the Canadian's cheeks. It was painful to watch, and yet no one was stopping it, no one was helping him. France and England were simply standing there, making no attempt to comfort their son.

He wanted to help him so badly, but this was all his fault. If he were to help him now, then who was to say that he wouldn't make another mistake, at Canada's expense? He couldn't do that to the boy. He just couldn't. And yet... still, the Canadian stood alone, just like before. No-one was there for him, and no-one seemed to realize just how shaken the boy had been by the past day's events. Still, he kept apologizing through his tears, not wanting to be a bother to his family.

"Canada..." He mumbled lowly, causing the boy to look up sharply and stare at him with watery eyes. "I-I'm sorry... this is my fault isn't it?"

"No! Don't b-blame yourself! I w-was just... I... can't, I... please... Ivan, I..." With every word he spoke, Canada's sobs got worse and it became harder for him to speak until suddenly, he looked up. "I'm sorry..." He finished in a whisper, before covering his eyes and sprinting as fast as he could out the door.

"Canada! Wait!" Three voices spoke in unison as his footsteps pounded the hall, tears pouring down his face.

Russia looked down at his hands accusingly, pure misery written on his face. "M-Matvey... I'm sorry..." He said quietly to himself small tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

France and England looked around awkwardly, unsure of what to next, until suddenly England's gaze fell on Russia and his eyes hardened.

He strode forward and Russia looked away, expecting another argument about how this whole mess was his fault, so was not surprised, when the Englishman folded his arms and glowered at the Russian. He was surprised however, by the words that escaped his mouth, through clenched teeth. "Go after him."

The words pierced the awkward silence and both Russia and France looked at the Brit, surprised. England, however, wasn't deterred. "You're his boyfriend, aren't you? Then go after him!"

Russia opened his mouth to reply, only to close it again after a moment's thought. "Da." He said quietly with a nod, before standing up quickly and running out the door.

France turned to the Englishman, horrified. "Angleterre! What did you just do? Didn't you see what he did to our son?"

England looked down sadly. "Yes but... I... France, I made a mistake and... so did Russia. We all make mistakes, we of all people should know that, right?"

"But zis is different, Russia-"

"Made a mistake. But he really is sorry and... I think I've given my son enough reason to hate me without adding more."

"But-"

"Enough. We should just wait and see what happens, right now, we need to let Matthew make his own decisions." England said, turning towards the door, closing the matter.

"Says ze man who practically kidnapped him." France grumbled to himself.

"What was that, Frog?"

"Ah! Nothing, nothing! I was just sayin' zat we should go and find Amérique, oui?"

England huffed, but nodded in agreement and together the two men strode towards the door, refusing to look at one another.

xXx

Heavy feet pounded on stone paving and the noise echoed off the tall buildings, making the world seem very empty. Russia ran down the freezing streets, eyes peeled for any sign of the small Canadian while above him dark grey clouds formed, promising snow and making the Russian's search even more desperate. He didn't want the boy to be caught in the fury of a Russian winter without a coat.

Once or twice he thought he thought he saw a flash of blonde hair at the edge of his vision, only to discover it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

The cold air scratched his throat and his breath was visible in the air before him, but still he ran, not wanting to lose his boyfriend forever. Suddenly, an icy snowflake gently kissed his nose and Russia looked up to see a thousand soft flakes of ice floating gently from the sky. Russia, however, wasn't fooled. Snow was harsh and cruel, it could kill easily and only caused trouble. Not only that, but it would make it incredibly difficult to find Canada. Russia's heart sank. Would he ever be able to make things right?

Desperately, he ran faster, peering through the snow in the hope of finding some kind of clue.

After ten minutes of frantic searching Russia was almost ready to give up. There was almost no hope of finding the boy in this weather, and it just kept getting worse.

"I'm sorry Matvey..." Russia whispered to himself as he came to a stop, his boots an inch deep in the fresh snow.

With his head low, and a heavy heart, the Russian turned and began to head home. It wasn't fair. Whenever his life began to go well something happened to make it become bad again, but this time it was was worse. This time, it wasn't just him that had been hurt, it was Canada, who hadn't done anything wrong.

The snow was heavy now and slowly, Russia walked, his feet dragging through the snow.

Suddenly, he heard a yelp and a thump, and turned to the source of the noise. Squinting through the snow, he gasped. There, crouching in the snow was Canada, attempting (and failing) to stand up after slipping in the snow. As the Russian watched, the boy gave up trying all together, and simply huddled up in the snow, sniffling and shivering.

"Matvey?" He asked cautiously, causing Canada to look up quickly and let out a small 'meep' of surprise.

"I-Ivan?" He stammered out, looking up with teary eyes. "W-What are you d-doing out here?"

"Looking for you." Came the blunt reply, and Canada bit his lip worriedly.

"Oh no, y-you must be freezing! I'm s-sorry... I sh-shouldn't have run off like t-that... I'm sor-"

"-If you are trying to apologize, stop right now. None of this is your fault." Russia cut across him, folding his arms, his eyes icy, causing Canada to look down sadly.

"O-oh... Sorry..." He mumbled, only to realize what he had said and quickly clasped his hands over his mouth. "Sorry! I didn't mean to apologize!"

Russia sighed fondly at the Canadian's mistake and a small, relieved smile graced his lips. Slowly, he knelt down and pulled Canada into a comforting hug. "You need to stop blaming yourself, da?" He murmured into the boy's ear.

Canada could feel tears pricking his eyes and blinked them away hurriedly, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Russia heard him, however, and held him tighter.

"None of this is your fault, Matvey, remember that. If anyone should be sorry it's me. I... I hurt you... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you." The words were only whispered into his ear, but they were enough to bring tears to the Russian's eyes.

The snow was falling heavily now and Canada, Russia noted, was shivering. He slowly unwound his arms from the Canadian and quickly

shrugged off his coat, draping it over the boy's shoulder's.

"Let's head back, da?" he said with a smile and Canada nodded, his cheeks flushed from the cold.

"Th-thank you." He stuttered through chattering teeth, slipping his hand into the Russian's.

A blush spread across Russia's cheeks. It was barely noticeable under the flush from the cold, but it was there.

"You're welcome Matvey..."

A/N- I think I have a thing for fluffy endings to chapters...

Also, America just seems the type to always have a gun on him, even if he has to somehow sneak it through British customs...

Sorry if this chapter's really badly written, writer's block hit me pretty hard these last couple of weeks... Hopefully I will be able to regain my muse in Austria!

I shall now express my joy at going on holiday through this piano.

And now, it's ten to eleven and I have to get up at ten to three tomorrow, so I should probably get some sleep. If I forgot to put something in here, then I shall add it upon my return on Friday... Wait! I remember!

The next few chapter's are going to mellow down a bit and there won't be as much drama as this for a couple of chapters... hopefully... I don't really know, I have the plot in my head but I don't really know how it's gonna fit into each chapter... You didn't really need to be told this, but I felt like sharing.

God, my mind is all over the place today, I really shouldn't have been writing but if I didn't then you wouldn't have gotten a chapter for another week OTL...

Anyway~ Thanks for all your reviews, it may not seem like it, but they DO motivate me~

Now, off to Austria! Let us bother some purple eyed aristocrats! Oh wait, I need to sleep first, don't I? Sleep, THEN Austria!

G'night peeps!

~Tigress

xxx