The Hetalia Global Warming Crisis; Get Out Alive
19—The Return
~Canada~
Matthew pulled at his long hair and hissed in frustration and panic. The moment the connection between him and his brother broke, he nearly snapped.
Nearly.
Ivan was like a rock; a solid piece of reality that Matthew could hold on to amid the swirling chaos and confusion in his mind. Everyone warily stepped back when they saw how furious he was, but not Ivan. The Russian was kneeling beside Matthew, his expression serious, one arm around the Canadian.
"Shit!" the little Canadian spat. "What the hell do I do now? I can't seem to contact him anymore! Fuck! What do I do!"
"There's nothing you can do right now," Gilbert murmured, his red eyes flashing with surprise at the young man's choice of words. "Just hope they will come back soon. They can take care of themselves."
"Don't tell me that!" Matthew snapped, swinging his head around to glare at the Prussian. "You don't understand! You're not the one who had to bear America's pain! What the hell do you know!"
Matthew spotted the fear flickering in the crimson depths and he sighed, looking away guiltily.
"Sorry," he muttered. "It's just… I know America's not dead, but he's not in good shape either."
"Come on," Ivan nudged the small man encouragingly. "Let's get back to our game."
"Not now," Matthew rasped. "I don't feel like it…"
He shrugged off Russia's arm, scooped up Kumajiro who stood behind him, and padded over to the couch, lying down with his back to the other countries. The Russian gazed at him, still kneeling, as the others milled around, looking for other things to do to avoid the upset nation. Ivan got up and boldly headed over to the couch, putting a hand on the Canadian's head. Matthew didn't move, but his voice shook when he spoke.
"Go away."
"It's not good to be alone, don't you agree?" Ivan said in his cheerful voice.
The Canadian flinched, his grip tightening around his polar bear. "What do you know? It's not your siblings that are about to die out there. As far as I know, you hate my brother."
Ivan sniffed. That was true. The American was an idiot.
Matthew glanced over his shoulder. "Aren't you afraid of me?"
"Why would I be?" Ivan asked in surprise.
"The other countries are," the Canadian pointed out.
"That's because you beat Prussia and his brother single-handedly, da?" Ivan replied with a slight smirk to his smile. That brought out a little huff of amusement from Matthew.
"Come on, let's do something useful," Ivan poked Matthew in the ribs and the little man squeaked. The tall man's violet eyes glittered in amusement as he poked the younger country again. He was rewarded with a faint giggle.
"Stop it!" Matthew gasped. "That tickles!"
"You're so cute," replied the Russian, laughing softly. "You sound like a mouse."
"You two seem to be a bit busy."
Matthew twitched and Ivan stiffened. They turned to see the albino leaning on a chair and grinning, but his red eyes were cold.
"Why don't you come and help out and leave that for later?" continued the Prussian.
Ivan stood up and faced Gilbert, a smile forced onto his face. Matthew sat up on the couch, hugging Kumajiro close, looking from Prussia to Russia. Their expressions were sweet, but the Canadian could feel the tension and cold hatred between them and he was afraid they would start fighting.
The Russian opened his mouth, intending to snap out a threat, but Matthew was faster. He stepped between the two older countries and grinned sheepishly at them.
"Yeah, let's go do something!" he whispered, more like his usual self. "I'm sure you're all hungry. I'll go help cook some food!"
He darted into the kitchen, but managed to catch something that sent shivers of—fear or excitement? He didn't know which—up his spine.
"Lay one hand on him and you're dead, ublyudok," Russia had muttered darkly in Prussia's ear. "Canada will become one with me."
~America~
The man staggered down the stairs and collapsed at a landing. He adjusted his grip on the limp body of the smaller man, whom he carried on his back. He felt warm blood dripping down his back, spilling thickly over and from his shoulder, pooling on the ground around him. His blood mixed with the blood of the Englishman. He smirked pathetically. It was a terrible irony. From brothers to enemies to lovers, their life together had always been stained with violence and blood…
He glanced up with dull blue eyes. How much closer was he to his brother? How many more steps could he take before he collapsed?
He bit his lip and staggered to his feet, splashing in the blood. His body trembled with violent fits of coughing, spitting blood and saliva from his mouth. Groaning, he slowly made his way down the next flight of stairs, calling up every bit of superhuman strength he had left.
The only thing the man had in mind was to only hope he could make it back, before it was too late.
~Canada~
Canada splattered the sweet, sticky liquid onto his plain spaghetti as the other countries watched in disgust. He slurped up the pasta with relish, and then glanced at the nations who were staring at him.
"Eeew," Lovino said, looking away and sticking his tongue out in disgust. "What the fuck is that?"
Licking his lips, Matthew grinned and held out the full bottle to them.
"Maple syrup," he mumbled with a mouth full of pasta. "Want some?"
"Pasta's supposed to have tomato sauce on it, jackass! Tomato! Tomato!" exclaimed the Italian. "Why the hell would you put fucking syrup on it!"
"I like it sweet," the little Canadian murmured with a shrug.
"Aww, come on, it can't be that bad," Antonio said with a laugh, moving away from Romano and leaning over Canada and his food. "Let me try that."
"I don't think that's a good idea…" Gilbert murmured, but the Spaniard was already picking up a strand of spaghetti and putting it in his mouth.
"Well?" Matthew prompted after Antonio swallowed. The Spaniard made a face, but tried to hide it with a crooked grin.
"It's… Interesting," he concluded, then rushed over to the sink for a glass of water.
Lovino burst out into a throaty laugh. "That's what you get bastard!" he crowed. "Tomatoes always go and you know it!"
"I've got more pasta over here, everyone!" announced his brother from the stove. He brought over a pot full of the spaghetti over to the dining table, where everyone gathered.
"Did you make the sauce?" Lovino asked, wiping drool from his mouth. The smell was intoxicating to him.
"Of course," Feliciano exclaimed, pointing to the other smaller pot on the stove. "With lots of tomatoes, because I know you love them, fratello."
The older Italian bounded over to the tomato sauce, his golden eyes glittering with excitement and hunger. The other nations settled themselves, their plates piled with pasta. Much to Canada's amusement, no other nation had used maple syrup for sauce. He looked down at his half-finished food and frowned. The only other nation who liked things with syrup on them was America. That country would eat anything! Thinking of his brother made him want to cry and his appetite disappeared.
"Lighten up," Gilbert said, patting the young country on the back. "Enjoy the time you have now, because you might regret it later."
"Sure. I'll do that, eh." Matthew allowed himself a small smile, attempting to hide his amusement. The Prussian smelled like beer, but where he got his hands on it was beyond the younger country.
Suddenly the main door swung open. Ivan, who was guarding the door, raised his pipe, ready to bring it down on the intruder, violet eyes narrowed and blazing with cold fire. Then he froze, his muscles stiffening and eyes widening.
"America!" he exclaimed in shock.
The young nation stumbled into the room with England on his back. Both countries were badly injured and covered in blood.
"Brother!" Matthew cried in distress, shoving the startled Russian out of the way and stopping in front of Alfred.
"See?" Alfred rasped, forcing himself to smile painfully. "I told you I'd come back."
America's dull blue eyes closed and he collapsed.
I'm back.
Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya
Translations:
Russian: ublyudok = bastard
Italian: fratello = brother
I feel uncomfortable using the Russian language, so please correct me if something doesn't make sense. Most languages, like German and Chinese, are practically foriegn to me, which is why I don't often use other languages in my stories. (But that's what Google Translate is for~! /shot XD) I'm far more comfortable with Latin-based languages such as French, Italian, and Spanish, but I make more grammar mistakes than anything else with those three.
So I'm just thankful Canada, America, and England are English.
But that was never my point so I dunno what the heck I'm talking about...
YAY RANTING! :D
Anyways. This is my Easter treat for everyone. ^^ Please review, and have a wonderful Easter~!