This chapter was inspired by the song 'When I Said Goodbye' by Mayer Hawthorne.

When I Said Goodbye

Prussia watched the blonde nation walk past, head down and cautious. He avoided eye contact, and Prussia could not blame him; not after what he had said. Not after what he had done.

The two of them had been friends for a time, and then best friends. And then friends with benefits.

Canada had fallen in love with him and he… Well, he had not felt the same way.

Prussia had pushed him, blaming him for ruining something good, and simple, and easy. Canada just had to factor love into the equation. He just had to complicate things! It was his fault! His!

Prussia threw a tantrum, and when he was done, Canada looked at him. He just looked at him and shook his head.

And he left without another word.

It felt like he had been punched in the stomach, but Prussia tried to hold onto the belief that he was in the right, that Canada had somehow betrayed him by bringing feelings into their relationship. Canada avoided him and he ignored him in return.

At least he tried to. It was not working very well.

Prussia glanced down at the file in his hands. The smear of black and red across the page meant nothing to him; he could not concentrate. His thoughts were caught up and tangled.

He sighed and handed the file to a passing aide.

The truth was… He was in love with Canada. He had not known it at the time, but he was, and he had taken it for granted. It seemed so obvious now.

God, he was such an idiot.

It had been impossible to ignore the chasm in his life once Canada walked out. He ached for him. He kept picking up the telephone to tell him a joke, only to remember on the first ring and hang up with a curse. When he was out shopping, Prussia found himself buying the things Canada liked or his favourite treats. He would turn to nudge him in the ribs and tease him, and find himself alone. Sad and alone.

And after dark, when it was just him and his hand, Prussia would pant his name between strokes.

He missed their friendship, and he missed the sex, but most of all he missed Canada. He felt torn up inside.

Prussia knew that he was in love with Canada, there was no other explanation, and the realization floored him. Love was an affliction that would make him weak and foolish… It would make him want, and need, and feel. It would ruin him.

But he would not have it any other way…

Not if he could have Canada back.

Prussia watched the other nation turn down the corridor and weighed his options. He knew what he wanted, finally… But should he force his feelings on Canada? After what he had said, and done? Did he even have that right anymore?

Did he even care?

Prussia growled under his breath and tore after Canada. He did not care. He was selfish, and desperate. His life felt empty without Canada and he would do anything to get him back.

He came up behind him and grabbed his shoulder roughly, clawing at his suit. He threw Canada against the wall. Canada blinked and opened his mouth in surprise.

And then his face twisted into a scowl and he hauled back to punch Prussia in the nose.

Prussia went sprawling with a growl, knees up around his ears, and fidgeted with his nose. It was broken, definitely broken. He smiled through the blood.

He had deserved that.

"Goth, I mithed you." His voice was thick and muffled behind his hand. His words slurred together. Whatever. Touching reunions had never been his forte.

Canada blew on his knuckles and stared down at him.

"What do you want, Beilschmidt?"

He lowered his hand and let the blood cascade down his chin and drip onto his coat. The other nations gave them wide berth and sidelong glances as they walked past. He did not even notice. As far as he was concerned, they were alone in the world.

"I wan'ed to apolo'ize. I wath wron'."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"You usually are."

Prussia ginned and licked his lips. God, he had missed his snide remarks, and sarcasm, and twisted sense of humour.

"True. But I'm thorry. I didn' mean it."

"The part where you threw a tantrum," Canada crouched down to his level with a sigh and checked his nose. His hands were cold. "Or the part where you screamed at me? Ooh, or maybe the part where you kicked me out?"

"All of it…?"

He chuckled lightly under his breath. He looked tired. Prussia wondered if their time apart had been as hard on Canada as it had been for him. Probably. They had always been better together.

He pushed his nose back into place and held him still as it healed supernaturally fast. Prussia would have undoubtedly let it heal crooked... Canada traced his fingers down the bridge of his nose after it clicked into place, over his cheekbones, across his lips. He looked at him softly.

"You're an idiot," he muttered affectionately. "I should have known you would freak out."

"Can you forgive me?"

"Depends. Are you going to buy me flowers?"

Prussia laughed in relief. It was not a 'yes' but it was not a 'no' either. It was not an 'I never want to see you again, asshole!'. He could work with that.

"Sooo many flowers."

He snorted and tucked a wayward curl behind his ear with shaking fingers. Prussia watched the motion with hungry eyes. It was strange how the little things suddenly seemed so important.

"Then we'll see..." He smiled at him sweetly but his knuckles were still red. "Walk me to my car?"

Prussia scrambled to his feet and held out his bloodied hand. Canada took it anyway. He helped him up and marvelled at how well their hands fit together, how their scars complemented each other, how their fingers automatically interlocked... They were made for one another.

He had just been too blind to see it.

"Absolutely."

Author's Notes:

"I am going to get you so many lizards!" - Futurama

I bet that you thought this would be horribly depressing when you saw the title. Prussia might be in the dog house for awhile but I think it will work out. They'll make it work. (Also, sometimes you just need to knock a b*tch out.)