OK I LIED. THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER.
This ended up going longer than I anticipated, so there will be ONE MORE CHAPTER.
Thanks for sticking to this fanfic so far =) I LOVE YOU ALL. I know earlier on I was complaining about this fanfic, but I am starting to like it. Maybe because I'm writing this earlier in the day, not at 3 A.M.
And I discovered the whole 'book cover' thing for this site, so I changed them all for my fanfics =D with our cosplay pictures oh geez.
Anyways, onwards!
Maybe it was stupid for me to confess my love as bombs fell around us. Or maybe I did it because I was scared that I would regret my words. Either way, the side of the hospital was bombed, and as we scrambled to safety, we were separated. The last thing he told me through the wreckage was that he'd live so that we could see each other again. His face looked so sincere - or maybe not, one cannot really be sure anymore.
In the winter of 1941, I was in Hong Kong. As I helped my soldiers fight off the Japanese, I received word of the attack on Pearl Harbour, and America's declaration of war. I was right - Alfred didn't spring into action until it really did punch him in the face. I could care less though; I was preoccupied with keeping my people alive out there on the battlefield, my allies too.
I must admit I did become immune to the horrors of war. I fell into a phase of indifference. I grew up caring for others over myself - the problems of others upset me more than my own problems. War, it changed me. I became selfish - I no longer batted an eyelash at the pain of others. All I was focused on was my duty.
It took a bayonet through the gut to bring me back to my senses.
A Hospital in Hong Kong, December 24th, 1941
"It would help if you listened to what the nurse said." Hong Kong mused, staring intently at the struggling blonde in the bed before him.
"Sen, tell your hospital staff to unhand me!" growled Canada. "My shoulder is fine! I need to go out there and-"
"Matthew." Violet eyes met with livid ones. "I greatly appreciate all that you have done for me and my people. Please, at least rest for a few more hours." He paused, then continued in a more subdued tone. "We are surrendering. There is nothing more we can really do. Your men have fought valiantly, Canada. It is time for you to accept what is done, and allow yourself to recuperate. Soon the helicopter for you will be here, and you will be sent to safety."
"But-"
"It is done, Matthew. Allow yourself to heal for wherever your duty calls you next." Sen reached out his hand and awkwardly placed it over Canada's arm. "I know that failure means more to you now than it did in the past. However, wasting your men away at a lost cause is not in anyone's best interest. Think for your people."
Before Matthew could reply, one of his own soldiers scrambled into the room.
"Sir! The Japanese! They have entered the hospital and are ki-" before the man could finish his sentence, something sharp struck through his body, and what followed was utter chaos. Before he knew it, Canada had pushed Hong Kong aside and a bayonet had struck him through his abdomen. His mind froze; it was the first time he had a potentially fatal injury.
Between the rush from the hospital to his personal helicopter, he was shell-shocked. He didn't register the fact that it was Japan himself, Kiku, that had stabbed him. He didn't grasp the sight of innocent soldiers being bayoneted in their hospital beds, skewered into the mattresses below them. Before he knew it, he was in the helicopter, a medical team already working on his wound.
"You better not die on me after I tried my best to stay alive for you, you bloody git." At the sound of the familiar voice, Canada finally realized what had happened, and the pain in his side became apparent. He gasped in pain, before looking for the source of the voice.
It was Arthur.
"Wha… Eng-"
"Shut up, Matthew." And with that, he bent down to give Matthew a soft, chaste kiss.
Matthew's eyes widened. Arthur pulled back, concern graced his features.
"Now don't try to say anything or move. Let the doctors work on your wound." He turned to one of the nurses. "How is he?"
"Fine, Corporal Kirkland. Thankfully, no major damage has been done to any of his organs. He was lucky." Arthur nodded, before turning back to see Matthew's wide-eyed look.
"Does it hurt really bad? The morphine should kick in momentarily."
"You… You kissed me." Arthur's eyes softened.
"I did. To make up for what we should have done last time I saw you." Matthew's face flushed. Then, he winced in pain.
"Back… Back at the hospital, what happened? Sen… the patients… the doctors, the nurses, the children, the elderly the-"
"Matthew calm dow-"
"I can't, Arthur! I… let them all die without a care. I… oh God. I didn't care…"
"Shhhh, Matthew." Arthur kissed him tenderly on his forehead. "Slow down. What happened?"
"Arthur… I've failed. Before I was angry because I did not live up to my duty but - but now… I've failed the people, Arthur! They died… I could have prevented that! I-"
"Matthew." The Canadian looked up at him wearily. "Sometimes, it is easier to ignore the bad things in order to protect ourselves. You grew immune to the horrors of war because it was your coping method. There is no fault in the fact that you haven't realized it until it personally happened to you. It is human nature; we don't think the things around us affect us until it really does. You are only human, Matthew."
"I am only human…" Canada's eyes, downcast, wandered to where the doctors were attempting to close the wound. By now the morphine had kicked in, and the pain was mostly gone. He slowly moved his hand to rest on top of England's.
"I wish I could be a hero…" He lifted his gaze to look at the man that he loved. "So I could protect everyone… But heroes have no boundaries. I am human, therefore imperfect."
"Chin up, Matthew. You have done very well already. You pushed back the Japanese far longer than anyone thought you could. More could have died if you weren't there. Now, you rest up." Matthew nodded numbly. "Good. Rest now, Matthew."
"I guess I will. Arthur?"
"Yes Matthew?"
"Thank you." I love you.
And with that, he allowed himself to succumb to his fatigue.
When Matthew next woke up, Arthur was no longer there.
A note, however, was placed neatly on his bedside table, tucked underneath an almond flower.
The flower of promise.
Matthew groaned as he sat up. Gingerly, he picked up the flower. It was still fresh, so it must have been local - meaning that he was probably somewhere in South Asia. He picked up the note as well, and carefully unfolded it.
Dear Matthew,
I have been called away to the United States to attend the Arcadia Conference. The signing of the Declaration of United Nations will be taking place, and you have been pardoned because of your injury.
Take it easy, and don't fight with the hospital staff. I don't want you to run off to save people without regaining your full health first.
I am looking forward to seeing you again. The almond flower, I am sure you know the meaning behind it. I don't want you to forget the conversation we had. Work hard, Matthew, but remember to not overdo it, and to not beat yourself up about what you can not control.
Also… Remember our kiss. It's… a promise. I promise to treat you right, Matthew.
You are dear to me.
Love, Arthur
Alfred was going to be at the conference. Will seeing him rekindle Arthur's affections? Matthew didn't want to think that it would. On a similar vein, Arthur never said the words 'I love you' to Matthew yet either. Matthew hoped that the flower spoke true of Arthur's promise of love.
I was actually relocated to India from Hong Kong during that incident. I was nursed back to perfect health before I went back into action.
I fought in Dieppe in 1942. Though supposedly England and America were there, I never saw them. In 1943 the most notable battle I fought at was the Battle of Ortona. A creative military tactic was used there - we went from house to house secretly through the attics, knocking holes into the walls to get to the other house. That way, we were able to secure hold of most of the place before we were even discovered. I take much pride in the military genius of my people - I still remember my mentor recounting proudly of the tactics used in Vimy Ridge (when he wasn't upset over the memories from the actual battle.)
1944 was the next time I saw Arthur.
Juno Beach - Normandy, France, June 6th 1944
Canada slumped against the wall, trying to regain his breath as fatigue racked his body. He let himself fall to the floor against the building, sitting down with his legs out in front of him. A small smile crept to his lips. They did it - they have successfully secured their place on Juno Beach, and able to start the campaign to recapture Caen. From what his fellow officers told him, they were the first to reach the designated point inland. His mind wandered over to Arthur and Alfred, who were still in battle. Will they be okay? Being the last to arrive and the first to reach so far inland, he secretly hoped it would impress England. Hopefully.
As his soldiers started to set up camp around him, Canada took out a small journal. A year ago he received word that the next 'Canada' was almost ready to be mentored. Because of the current situation, the next generation were mostly going to be taught by reading the journals of the predecessors - such as the ones he had seen his own mentor scribbling in back in the day.
He wrote about the landings, and the immediate onslaught of violence that met them as they approached the beach. He wrote about his comrades being shot in the water, before they could even reach land. The bad weather was also something to blame - it greatly hindered the amount of time the Canadians were able to use to reach the beach. There were many delays, due to the amount of men and vehicles that were in the way. Although only one unit actually succeeded in their D-Day objective, the Canadians had pushed farther inland than any of the others - as far as Canada could tell. He also wrote about the things he saw - especially that one soldier who was blasted open, and tried desperately to place his intestines back into his body. It was important for his underling to understand all the parts of war - not just the facts, but the experience as well. This was something his own mentor had taught him well.
After he had recounted his experience of the day in to his journal, he fished out his cigarette box from his pocket, and took one out with his mouth. He searched for his lighter, but could not find it.
"Fuck."
"Is that an invitation?" Matthew looked up, his eyes wide. There was England, battered and bloody, but alive nonetheless. The other limped over to him, before plopping himself down next to the Canadian. "I don't think it'd be appropriate for us to shag on the battlefield, Matthew." He reached into his pocket, and took something out. It was a lighter.
"Thanks." Mumbled Matthew as he took the lighter. He lit up his cigarette, before handing it back to Arthur. "How did things go?"
"Fine, I guess. I'm not here to talk about work though. First time you see me in two years, I thought you'd be more surprised."
"I'm more relieved." Whispered Matthew. "You seem okay, besides the blood seeping through your pants. Here, let me take a look." He handed the cigarette to Arthur before lifting the other's pant leg to see the damage.
"It's just a bit of shrapnel don't worry about it so much."
"It needs to be taken out though. Hold on." Matthew got up and went to the nearest tent to retrieve a first-aid kit. He came back and knelt in front of Arthur's leg. He poured water over the wound. Arthur winced.
"This is going to hurt."
"Just get on with it. I'm not some wea- ARGH." Matthew had pulled out the shrapnel. "Bloody hell a little more warning next time?"
"What happened to not being weak?"
"Git."
"Oh, I wonder if there's more in there?" Matthew purposely poked his finger into the wound. The other man yelped in pain.
"Stop that!"
Matthew snickered.
" Not so tough now, hmm? Don't make that face, Arthur. I'm sorry." He laughed lightly. He took out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured it over the wound. Arthur let out a stream of curses but was stopped short by Matthew's lips over his. "Shh. It will be over soon, just bear with me." He took out a needle and thread.
"Hurry up."
"Shush." Matthew threaded the needle before slipping it through the other's skin. Ignoring the hiss of pain from the other, he continued to stitch the wound up. After he was done, he doused the wound up with more rubbing alcohol, enticing another yelp of pain from Arthur.
"There all better."
Arthur took a weary drag from the cigarette before throwing it off to the side. He struggled to stand up, with the aid of Matthew.
"I'm supposed to go and check up on Alfred."
Alfred.
"O-oh…" Arthur caught the look on Matthew's face.
"You can come with me, Matthew. I don't want you to be suspicious. Alfred and I are officially over. We confirmed it back when we met at the Arcadia Conference." Matthew sighed a breath of relief. "Now let's go." Matthew watched as Arthur limped away. Rolling his eyes, he went and picked up the other bridal-style.
"Wha-"
"Stop being so stubborn. You're injured. Let me take care of you." The British man remained silent as they reached one of the military trucks. He gently placed the other on to the seat before taking a seat himself. He turned to the driver, who saluted to him. He directed him to the edge of Omaha Beach.
"He's in here." Matthew and Arthur exchanged a quick glance before following the soldier into the tent.
"Corporal Jones, Corporal Williams and Corporal Kirkland are here to see you."
"Thank you."
Alfred's eyes were bandaged.
"Glad to see you both. Well, not exactly see, but…" He chuckled. "I'm glad to have you both here with me."
"Alfred." Matthew's voice held a hint of guilt. The last time he had seen Alfred, they ended on a sour note. Seeing Alfred now, injured and bed-ridden - it hurt him.
"I'm lucky." Said Alfred, smiling. "The doctor said that if nothing goes wrong, my eyes will be okay. I'll have to wear glasses though." He beckoned for them to come closer. They both sat on the side of his bed.
"How did it go?" Asked Alfred.
"A success. We will begin advancing inland soon."
"That's good to hear. Unfortunately, I will not be able to join you guys. They are transporting me to a proper hospital, probably one in England since it is closer than my home."
"Please get better, Alfred." Whispered Arthur. "Both of us hold you dear. We don't want to lose you."
"Yeah… I know." Alfred gulped. "You know… Yao completed early."
"He… He did?" Matthew's voice trembled. He still remembered their days back in Hetalian Academy. Yao was a headstrong boy. He never broke down or cried no matter what happened. To think that he would complete early…
"It was because of Japan, wasn't it?" Alfred nodded solemnly.
"We can't really blame Kiku though. To have everyone around you drill their ideals into your head constantly would change anyone. I'm afraid for when the war is over, when he realizes all that he has done. That would completely break Kiku."
"He is only human after all. We all are."
"What happened to Yao? Was it the result of being a representative or was he hurt directly-"
"Directly. By Kiku's own hands."
Kiku's own hands.
"They were lovers before their duties tore them apart."
A heavy silence fell between them. It was Alfred who broke it first.
"I… I want to say that I'm sorry."
"For what, Alfred?" Matthew inquired.
"For keeping you both apart." Matthew and Arthur exchanged a look. "I was… jealous. You had real love and I didn't… I wanted it so badly."
"it's in the past, Alfred." Whispered Arthur. "And I am to blame as well."
"No!" Snapped Alfred. "I said things to change your mind, Arthur. I made you… believe, believe that Matthew was too good for you. I made you believe that our twisted love was what we needed because it was the only way we wouldn't hurt others. I am sorry."
"It's too late to change anything now, Alfred." said Matthew, who placed his hand on Alfred's arm. "We should forget the past and just look forward to the future. For now, we should be focusing on the war."
"But I-"
"I forgive you, Alfred. Let it go." Alfred nodded slowly. "We both love you. It was always the three of us, no matter what happened. The three musketeers, the three amigos! Nothing will change that." Alfred smiled at what Matthew said.
"Thank you Matthew, Arthur."
A doctor came in and told them that it was time for America to rest. With one last goodbye, Canada and England left tent.
It was the last time they saw Alfred.
Final chapter coming up.
I hope my historical facts are accurate. I researched a bit on the battles. Last time I learned Canadian History was back in Grade 10. That's like... 2, 3 years ago? Haha.
Well, Reviews are loved! Haha, it motivates me to write, but you don't have to =) To know that people are reading this already makes me happy.
Love you all!