The Hetalia Global Warming Crisis; Get Out Alive

20— The Wounds

~America~

America opened his eyes. A pair of dark violet-blue eyes stared down at him. He smiled and held out his right hand.

"Hey, Canada…" he whispered.

"I told you not to go!" Matthew burst out, grabbing his brother's hand. "I should've gone with you! Now look what happened! You're so badly injured. And England is…"

Alfred stiffened and winced with pain. "England…? What happened to him?"

"He's in a coma," whimpered Matthew. "China doesn't know if he'll survive or not. He's lost so much blood, and his wounds won't heal."

The memory of the wolf's words to him echoed in his mind.

You need to think about what your brilliant idea just did to your friend.

"What have I done?" the American gasped.

He tried to stop them, but the tears fell anyways. The threat of death to a nation suddenly felt so real. His little brother leaned over him and placed a kiss on his cheek, licking up the tears gently. Alfred closed his eyes as the smaller man slowly lay down across his chest, wincing as Matthew brushed his injured shoulder and torn belly. He opened one eye and followed his brother's movements. The little Canadian lightly touched his bandaged shoulder and moved his hand along his chest to the right one, massaging it comfortingly, trying to get Alfred to relax.

"If Arthur dies, I'll never forgive myself," he rasped.

"Stop that," Matthew said firmly. "He's not going to die. England is tougher than he looks."

Alfred only sighed and closed his eye, forcing his aching muscles to relax. He knew his brother would take care of him, and he could already feel his own wounds starting to close up. As he tried to push the thoughts of Arthur away, a new thought sprang up into his mind, along with an image of Matthew.

You will die at your brother's hands.

The American pushed the thought away. He knew—knew for certain—Canada would never betray him.

Or was he just trying to convince himself?

A nagging doubt clouded his mind as he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

Would Canada really destroy America?

~Canada~

Matthew felt the change in his brother's breathing and sighed. He was utterly exhausted, energy spent on the training, the pain he suffered for his brother, cooking, and now trying to help take care of England and America.

The young nation slowly and quietly stood up. They had made a small bed on the floor beside the couch for Alfred. Arthur, who had more serious injuries, had been moved to the couch. The Englishman hadn't woken up yet, and it scared Matthew more than anything.

"Is your brother okay then, aru?" a voice muttered beside him.

Matthew glanced at China, who was bending over England with his back to the Canadian. He didn't know what the older country was doing, but from the way China sighed in frustration as he straightened up made Matthew realise that it wasn't working.

"He's fine," the Canadian replied, "but he's not acting like himself anymore. It's like the reality of death is changing him."

The Chinese man sighed and glanced at Matthew with sad, brown eyes.

"It's much harder to heal a broken heart, aru," he stated flatly. "As much as I know about healing wounds, I'll never know how to heal the torture England and America went through in their hearts. Seeing each other get hurt was the worst suffering they could get."

Matthew didn't need advice. Although he was young, he knew all too well the feeling of standing by the side watching helplessly as a person close to him got hurt. The mere memory of America and England trying to destroy each other during his brother's war of Independence still killed him on the inside. Seeing them suffer all over again brought back the pain.

Wong noticed the little man start to tear up and he softened his expression. Picking up the little polar bear from where it sat on the floor, he handed Kumajiro over to the young nation and smiled.

"Go and join the other countries," the Chinese murmured. "Now that these two are bandaged up and asleep, I can watch them myself. There's nothing more you can do here, aru."

Matthew nodded slowly and plodded into the kitchen. The other countries looked up as he entered the room. An icy silence descended upon the company. No one dared to ask the young nation any questions. Anyone could see that he was on the verge of tears. He bowed his head and started trembling.

"I'm going."

"Huh?" Gilbert grunted loudly as the others quietly rippled with surprised murmurs. Ivan tilted his head slightly, his eyes flickering from Gilbert to Matthew.

"I'm going out there," Matthew muttered, clenching his fists. "I'm going to stop this nonsense."

"NO!"

The little Canadian jumped, his head snapping up and indigo-blue eyes widening. Francis, Ivan, and Gilbert had all shouted at once and it startled the others as well as him.

"F-France?" he stammered timidly.

"Non, petite frère," stated France firmly. "I forbid you from going into danger alone."

Matthew looked away and paled. Some of the other countries didn't seem to understand the exchange very well, but by the look on Matthew's face, they didn't bother intruding.

"Prussia…" whispered the young nation. "Why…?"

"I'm not gonna let you put yourself in danger," Gilbert growled. "If you wanna stop 'em, leave them to the Awesome ME!"

"Russia?" Matthew breathed, barely having the strength to speak up anymore.

The tall man didn't say anything, but he stared into Matthew's blue eyes. The Canadian could see the message clearly. Russia didn't care about what happened to America and England; all he wanted to do was beat up the people who had made Canada so upset. Matthew shivered at his possessiveness and averted his gaze. He could deal with Ivan later.

"I don't think any of us want to lose you, or anyone else, Canada," Ludwig muttered, speaking for the others. "We need to stay together and sort out this mess first."

Everyone nodded and turned to each other, starting to discuss in small groups. France, Prussia, and Russia stayed staring at the Canadian as he strode over to an empty chair and sat himself down, cuddling Kumajiro and thinking about everything he had been through.

"Once, they didn't notice me, so they didn't care," Canada whispered to his bear. "Now all they care about is my safety. If I'm taken, everyone else will be killed."

"Who are…?"

"I'm Canada," he mumbled as he put his head down in his arms on the table. "Now that they know, they won't stop trying to get me. I'll have to watch everyone die. And for what?"

He closed his eyes, listening to the soft murmuring of quiet conversation around him. At least they were ignoring him now—

"Canada?"

The young man glanced up. Ivan was smiling down at him kindly.

"You will sleep now?" he asked.

"Mm…" replied Matthew sleepily, stifling a yawn.

"All of us are tired," Gilbert interrupted. "We're going to scatter ourselves around on the floor again. We'll leave you in peace."

His last words held a challenging edge directed at Ivan.

"Of course," Ivan murmured stiffly. "Sweet dreams."

The East European countries turned and strode off in tense silence. The Canadian was too tired to dwell on the fact that they were fighting personally with each other. He drifted off into sleep.

Don't die… Please.

Don't…

…leave me alone…

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya

Translations:

French: Non, petite frère = No, little brother.

I'm sorry for this utterly late post. Permission granted to hit me. :P

Permission granted to hit me again because I am procrastinating an assignment that was given to us two months ago and is due tomorrow. And I haven't started.

Damn I'm screeeewed!

Good news is the spring concert is over and I can get back to writing again without too many interruptions. :)

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