Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

In a fluster of worried hand gestures and jerky movements that could only be performed by Arthur when he was overly worried about one of his charges and trying to hide it, Canada was updated on Evelyn's condition and Arthur left. Matthew released Kumajirou to wander and then went to check on the American himself. Hopefully she would be easier to care for than his twin had been.

He made his way down to the room he figured Arthur had put her in. Lovely hand-made quilts covered a lump in the bed. Fresh flowers rested in a vase on the night stand along with a cool glass of water and a warm bowl of soup. Arthur may not be the most modern when it came down to treating someone, but he knew how to make someone feel loved and cared for. It was one of the major reasons Arthur had a room for each of his ex-colonies and why most of them still ended up under his watch when they were ill.

Matthew made his way over to the sleeping girl in the bed. He could feel the heat radiating from her forehead without touching her. Her breathing was coming out in heavy gasps. He remoistened the cloth and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Satisfied that he couldn't do anymore for the moment, he went back downstairs and turned on a hockey game.

Sometime later and a few more uneventful checks, Evelyn came down the stairs. She was unsteady on her feet and, clutching the railing for balance, looked around. "Artie?" she called sleepily. She blinked to clear her vision, her mind registering who was actually on the couch. "Matthew?"

Matthew jumped up, startled away from his game and made a desperate motion for the quilt on the couch. "Arthur had to go into work," he explained a little too quickly. "You shouldn't be up; you're sick." Evelyn's sickness addled brain couldn't pick up the nervous hint in his voice. He wrapped the quilt around her leading her to the couch. She curled up at one end resting her head against the arm rest. He needed to find a way to convince her to go back upstairs.

"Wha'cha watchin'?" She could hardly keep her eyes open.

"Hockey. Do you like hockey?"

She shrugged. "Don' know much 'bout it." She slurred once again.

Canada froze eyes widening as her stared at the girl brain short circuiting for a few seconds before he could fully process what she had said. This, in Canada's world, was unacceptable. He began explaining excitedly as Evelyn shifted to face him. Kumajirou crawled up between them lying across her feet.

Matthew continued his explanation until the end of the game not realizing when Evelyn fell asleep. He readjusted the quilt around her forgetting about the raging parental figure who would return home. Arthur wouldn't be happy she hadn't stayed in a real bed.

The polar bear raised his head tilting it to the side as he asked, "Who?"

"I'm Canada, your owner," Matthew replied. He couldn't understand why Kuma-something couldn't remember who he was.

The girl burrowed deeper into the couch mumbling in her sleep. Arthur told him about her dreams and episodes, and he had been witness to a few of her episodes, but it was still strange to hear his brother's words coming from her mouth.

"Thanks Mattie," she whispered.

The nickname gave him a moment's pause. She acted so much like his brother; maybe it was just an American thing. He contemplated moving her back upstairs, but didn't want to wake her. Instead, he turned off the television and picked up one of Arthur's books that was lying around.

Arthur called him later saying in basic terms the issue still hadn't been resolved; Matthew could hear England's boss and a few others in the background yelling. Canada could still feel his ears turning red thinking about it. Arthur had asked could the Canadian please stay a while longer? Matthew agreed. It wasn't a difficult job after all and his boss didn't need him at the moment.

He tried moving Evelyn back upstairs in the evening, but she complained—whined loudly—and he decided it was better to leave her alone. He found another quilt and tucked it around her. Kumajirou curled up at her feet providing more warmth. Finally, he set a glass of water on the side table and went upstairs to sleep some himself.

By morning, he regretted his decision. Matthew woke up to Evelyn's scream. When he descended the stairs, he found her on the floor tangled in the quilt, crossed eyed, looking at and watching, horrified, as Kuma licked her nose.

"Who?" the bear asked him with a curious look.

Evelyn screamed again scrambling backwards in a mock crab run.

Oh, now he knew what was wrong. Talking polar bears weren't normal therefore people reacted badly to them… or Arthur had explained something like that to him when he was younger.

The Canadian picked up the polar bear moving back to give the girl space. "It's okay," he tried to reassure her.

"Okay? The last time I checked polar bears don't talk; hell, animals don't talk!" She extricated herself from the quilt standing with her back to the wall and on the defensive.

"Parrots talk and that cat on Youtube can talk." Mathew smiled at her.

"Not like that!" Evelyn cried pointing while moving as far back as possible.

Matthew smiled reassuringly. "Kuma is…special." Now how to explain? He could distract her. Should he tell her about the nations? England still didn't want her to know, but

France thought that they should, especially now that they knew for sure she was the new

America.

The aforementioned Englishman arrived home just then examining the scene in some confusion.

"Evelyn, are you…"

"Artie!" she interrupted before he could ask the obvious questions. "Explain to him that animals don't talk." She turned rather frantically to the Englishman looking at him pleadingly.

Arthur looked to Matthew; the former colony shrugged apologetically still holding

Kumajirou. The Brit sighed removing his jacket as he replied, "Matthew's does and I'm afraid it is one of those facts you will just have to accept." It's better than the demonic koala, he silently added. He moved to her softly resting his hand reassuringly on her shoulder.

"You're probably the weirdest group of people I've ever met," the American mused picking the quilt up off the floor. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the shower."

Canada followed the elder nation into his office. England sat wearily behind his desk rubbing his eyes briefly before letting his hands run through his fluffy blonde hair. He made a motion to Mathew pointing in the general direction of the chair motioning for the younger to sit.

"I'm sending her home," Arthur said bluntly without looking up, hands still pulling at the strands of his hair.

"Are you going to tell her about being a nation?" Matthew asked taking the offered seat as Arthur looked up at him.

Arthur sighed opening the top drawer of his desk, removing the American passport and holding it between two fingers as he examined the seal. He paused a moment to look before looking up to the young man in front of him. Matthew had turned out all right. Hell he had turned out better than Arthur could have hoped. With this notion he allowed Mathew to see the turmoil on his face. He knew the Canadian had suffered just as much at his brother's death as the Brit had. Matthew had searched in his free time for years trying to find out how a national avatar could just die; he had been unsuccessful. He would understand what Arthur was doing. How he was trying to protect her, give her freedom while he could.

"No," the Englishman replied solemnly. Taking a deep breath and expelling it slowly.

Matthew let his bear go leaning back in his seat. "What happens if America is attacked again?"

Arthur put the blue book down lacing his fingers and placing his hands over it. "I'm doing this for her own good." Why couldn't Mathew see this? Oh well, he would make this work. "The longer she is around other nations, the more of one she becomes. At this moment, she is not affected by what happens to her country. If I send her home now, she shouldn't progress to the point where it does."

"I hope you're right." Matthew stood collecting Kumajirou before leaving.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. His former colony's tone had never changed throughout their conversation yet the Brit could tell Matthew was at least peeved at him. So much for having one of his former charges understand him. Sometimes he understood how grandparents felt when there grandkids came in with their noses glued to a screen. Sighing, Arthur pocketed the passport and went to the kitchen to make some tea. Tea would make everything better.

Evelyn came downstairs not long into his first cup. Her hair was still damp and she was barefoot, but she looked much better than she had yesterday morning.

"Where'd Mattie go?" she asked running her fingers through her hair. He started to take a sip before answering as the words she said dawned on him. He spit his tea back into his cup.

When had she started calling him Mattie? "Matthew had to return home." He tried sounding smoother than the frazzled he felt.

The American grabbed the orange juice from the fridge pouring a glass as she snatched a store bought scone from the package. She turned in time to see Arthur's eye twitch and she smirked at his reaction.

"I didn't get to thank him; think I can call him later?"

"It's possible." He paused, doubts still plaguing him about whether this was the right decision. Arthur began to take a sip of tea before remembering he had spit in it. He took a moment to harden his resolve dumping the tea in the sink. "Something came for you in the mail last night."

Evelyn lowered the glass she had been about to drink from in some surprise. "Mail…?

My passport?" she asked excitedly. He turned the pot back on.

"Er, yes." He hadn't expected her to be quite so excited. It hurt in away, but he would put that aside and deal with that later. Stiff upper lip and all. In the days before her episode at the World meeting, she hadn't asked about her passport at all or even mentioned her home in the States; she had been calling his house home.

Taking the passport from his pocket, he placed it in her outstretched hand. She ran her thumb over the seal before flipping through the small book.

"Thanks Artie!" Completely clueless, he couldn't think of but how American it was of her. He smiled lightly turning his back to her so she couldn't see his hurt.

"You're welcome," he replied unable to share her enthusiasm. "I can get you a plane ticket for the end of the week."

"Works for me!" she replied flashing him a brilliant smile. "I'm going to have to take all my classes over again…" she mused walking back up to her room.

Arthur returned to his freshly made tea. He couldn't find it in himself to take a drink.

Two tears found their way down his check before he got control of himself. He had travel plans to make.

A/N: I know! I know this is so late and I'm sorry. My beta and I have both been having a busy summer. She's taking Calc 3 (so glad I never have to take that class) and I have some family issues going on. I hope this fluff with some plot will make up for it. (Hides from thrown rocks and other nearby objects…)

Also, if anyone is interested, I've started posting an original story of mine on my dA account. My username is sakurasurichan and the title is A Pirate's Treasure. Okay, done with the shameless plug.

Reviews are loved and thank you for still reading even with my epic lateness.