Live, Canada-san~!

Warning: Angst, blood, suicide attempt, RusAme, Nichu, fluff.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. I have fun manipulating their characters, though

Bleed Out the Sorrows

"Mattie!"

Ivan's arms went slack around him and Alfred jumped out of them and lunged toward Matthew. The Canadian was sobbing and Alfred snatched up both his bloody wrists. "Oh God, Matt, what did you do?"

Matthew gave a choking sob. "I'm sorry, Al, I'm sorry!"

Alfred's heart was pounding and frantic tears were blurring his vision. He turned around. "Ivan—"

"I'm going," Ivan assured and rushed out of the tent.

Matthew was looking at Alfred, tears running down his face. "I don't want to die, Al. I-I didn't mean it. I saw the blood and… oh God, the blood…"

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Alfred told him, horrified at how fast the blood was flowing. Alfred was naked, and his thighs were warm with it already. "You're going to be okay. Just don't move. Ivan's—"

There were people running toward the tent now and Francis was the first to arrive. He climbed inside and immediately burst into tears. "Matthieu! Oh mon Dieu, qu'est-il arrivé? Tu sainges! Porquoi, pourquoi?"

"Papa, il ne s'arrêttera pas!" Matthew replied shakily as Francis grabbed one of his wrists. "Je… je l'ai fait. Je l'ai fait et je suis désolé, Papa!"

Francis brushed a trembling hand over Matthew's cheek. "Ne dites pas que. Tu n'as rien à être désolé sur." He looked at Alfred. "How long has he been like this?"

Alfred shook his head. "I-I don't know. I left him out in the woods by himself. Oh God, I shouldn't have left him. I should have—"

Ivan then came in followed by Arthur. Others were gathered outside the tent, but Alfred could hear Ludwig's voice telling them to stay back. Arthur didn't ask any questions, just grabbed one of Matthew's wrists and proceeded to wrap it in gauze as tightly as he could, ignoring the burning in his own hands. Alfred got some and tended to the other. Ivan pulled on some pants and wrapped his coat around Alfred, but the American barely noticed.

"I-I feel dizzy," Matthew said, struggling to control the anxiety in his voice, but seeing the blood bloom beneath the bandages was compromising that.

"You lost a lot of blood," Arthur told him, then finished wrapping the gauze. "Lay down."

Matthew did so and Francis laid beside him, in the blood Matthew brought in with him. Alfred stared down at his brother.

"Where's the knife?"

Matthew blinked guiltily up at him. "I… I left it in the woods. I couldn't do it, Al. I wanted to so badly, but as soon as I did I realized how stupid I was." A few more tears slipped out in spite of himself. "I don't want to die. I screwed up."

"I know you didn't, Mattie," Alfred assured, taking one of his brother's blood-sticky hands. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry we made you think we wouldn't care if you did that."

"Try not to talk," Arthur instructed, standing. "I'll get him some of the leftovers from tonight. He needs to boost his blood cell counts."

Alfred looked up. "Will he be okay, Artie?"

Arthur stared at him before saying. "I don't know." And he ducked out of the tent.

Francis's heart was pounding. He could lose Matthew. No. Not now. He needed him more than anything. He should have made sure Matthew was okay. He should have asked about him. He should have done so much more and now Matthew was bleeding out because he thought his life wasn't worth it anymore. Francis was a horrible brother.

"Why did you never come to me?" Francis asked.

Matthew sniffed. "I-I don't know. I thought no one understood—"

"How can I understand if you do not try to help me understand, petit?" Francis said, hugging him around the waist from behind. "I will always be there for you, Matthieu. You don't have to do this to yourself."

Matthew bit his lip. "I'm sorry."

"Don't you ever be sorry for this," Francis told him firmly. "You did it because you thought you were alone. I'm sorry for making you think you were."

Matthew cried. "Papa—"

Arthur stepped back in, a can of fruit cocktail in his hand, previously heated over the fire. "Eat this."

Matthew nodded and was about to take it when Alfred snatched it up and said, "You shouldn't move. Here." He tipped Matthew's chin up and fed him some.

"Maybe we should ask Jeanne for help," Francis suggested, unthinking. "They may have better supplies—"

"No," Arthur said sternly, sitting down beside them. "We can't let them see one of us injured. It could put us in a dangerous situation."

Francis glared incredulously at him. "But Matthieu is sick! I don't care if they see us. He's bleeding, and he needs help!"

Arthur glared. "Listen here, Francis, I wouldn't keep you from doing so if I didn't think these people had some ulterior motive. Go over there and ask for supplies, and by morning all of our blood could be smeared around this camp."

Francis gave him a death glare and Arthur knew he would be sorry for saying what he had later, but for now he had to focus on stemming the flow of blood from Matthew's slit wrists.

"How deep did you cut?" he asked.

Francis balked. "Arthur!"

"It's a question of health!" Arthur snapped back and looked expectantly at Matthew. "Well?"

Matthew swallowed and his eyes stung. "I was determined to get it over with quickly. I… intended to cut deep, but once I saw how fast the blood was coming, I stopped."

"Is it deep, then?"

"Only partly."

Alfred chewed his lip. "Oh, Mattie…"

Arthur was silent for a moment, thinking. And then Ivan said, "He is not passed out. It could not have been that deep." Ivan knew this fact for a reason. Though, of course, when he had done it himself, it had been when he was an immortal nation…

Arthur nodded. "I was just thinking that. We wouldn't be able to stem the bleeding so much if he had hit an artery."

Matthew stiffened. "Are you sure? I can still feel it coming out…"

"Don't think about that," Alfred told him. "Here, just eat." And he fed him some more.

"It will stop with enough prolonged pressure," Arthur said. "Though I wouldn't advise bending your wrists in any way after for a while. You might reopen the scars."

Matthew shivered and examined himself. His arms were sticky and red with blood and so were his pants and some of his coat. The black bandana was still tied around his arm, the eyeholes clearly visible. He felt his heart ache.

"I got blood all over Sadiq's mask," Matthew said piteously. "I ruined it."

Alfred's eyes followed his gaze. "I'm sure he would understand. Now eat." He heard the others in front of the tent, questions flying, scrabbling to get in and see what was happening. "Jeez, Vanya, did you wake everyone?"

"Nyet," Ivan replied, sitting cross-legged beside him. "But running out into the camp in nothing but my skin seemed to have attracted their attention well enough."

Everyone could laugh at that, even Matthew. Alfred said, "You're crazy. It's freezing."

"This is what you call freezing?" he scoffed.

"Well," Arthur smirked. "Now we know why Francis was the first one here."

Francis grimaced. "Mon petit was hurt, brittanique âne!"

"Oh calm down," Arthur said. "Matthew's fine now. It was just a joke!"

Francis brooded but did not say anything, only tightening his grip around Matthew.

When Alfred had finished feeding Matthew, he set the can and spoon down and said, "We should all probably spend the night here together. Just in case something… happens."

Matthew stiffened. "I won't cut myself again. I promise, I won't."

"Not that," Alfred said, feeling like an ass. "I mean… in case you take a turn for the worse."

Oh, what did I do? Matthew thought sadly. I'm never noticed and when I am I cause a big fuss. I screw everything up. I can't even kill myself right…

"Vanya," Alfred turned to Ivan. "Can you get Matthew's sleeping bag and bring it in here? Artie, Francis, get yours. I don't want us to be separated tonight."

"Da," And he went off. Arthur left too, but Francis stayed with Matthew. They returned and helped undress Matthew, being careful of his wrists, cleaning him up a bit with a moist rag, and then tucked him into his sleeping bag, positioned between Alfred and Ivan's and Arthur and Francis's. He thanked God it was the one that didn't smell like Sadiq. He didn't think he could take that so soon after what he'd done.

Francis slept with him, curling up to him from behind, and Arthur slept alone. Alfred and Ivan slept together, spooning, and Matthew couldn't bear to look at them as they only reminded him of what he had lost.

He's a good man, Al, Matthew thought. Don't let him go like I did. Never let him go.

The morning dawned, but Yao had been awake far before the sun had risen. The smell of blood had been keeping him up.

"Ani-chan."

Yao jumped and looked around to find Kiku sitting right beside him. "What? Yīnghuā, when did you get here?"

"Ever since I felt you climb out of our sleeping bag."

Yao balked. Have my senses gone so numb?

Kiku noticed his shock and gave a little smile. "Do not worry yourself. I am naturally silent. And I…" He seemed to get a bit shy all of a sudden. "I wanted to watch the sun rise with you."

Yao's shock only increased when he felt Kiku's hand cover his. He looked down to confirm it, then back up again, but only to find Kiku was looking away, his cheeks dusted pink, from embarrassment or cold, Yao could not tell.

Yao smiled and leaned over to kiss Kiku's cheek, continuing with his plan to make Kiku open up and trust him. "I love you."

Kiku seemed surprised, and he flinched but his hand did not move from its place. For a moment it appeared as if he would say something, but at the last minute looked away and remained silent. Yao huffed. He had given Kiku everything he was and promised to be and yet the younger man had not returned his love. Perhaps a little, but not completely.

I know you love me, Kiku, Yao thought. But why can't you say it? What am I doing wrong?

"Good," Ludwig's voice made them turn around. Kiku immediately snatched his hand back. "You are up. We need to pack everything up and—"

Yao stood. "What happen last night? Why you not let anyone in that tent?" There has been a trail of blood outside of it before, but now it was mysteriously gone.

Ludwig appeared uncomfortable with that question. "It is none of your concern. An isolated incident that has been contained. That is all."

Yao began to steam. "That is all you mean to tell us?"

Kiku stood along with him and said more calmly, "Yao is right. We are both part of this group. We deserve to know. Trust is key."

Ludwig looked very conflicted, then. "It… it is a very sensitive subject. I do not have the right to disclose such information. If he wants to disclose it, then he will."

"Who?" Yao insisted. "Why? How? What?"

Ludwig shook his head. "I am sorry, Yao, but I do not want to cause further complications by telling you without his permission. Let me just say matters are… fragile at the moment." Then he added, "You know what needs to be done."

Yao gaped at him as he walked away and began to follow him, intent on having the issue fully explained to him, but he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"No, Yao-chan," Kiku told him. "We do not want to cause more trouble."

Yao stopped and heaved a sigh. "Whatever happen last night we will know eventually. That much blood mean large wounds. We will know."

It took some convincing for Matthew to leave the tent. The tension in the camp was palpable, and he knew it was because of him.

"Come on out, Mattie," Alfred urged gently. "No one's going to hurt you." Or I'll pound their face in.

Matthew felt nervous. His wrists were bandaged heavily and he kept pulling his sleeves down to cover them, though he knew there would be a point where he couldn't keep them completely covered. They would all see how stupid he had been. "I-I…"

"Matthieu," Francis crouched down and took Matthew's hands. "I am not going to say I know what you're feeling, because I do not. But you just can't give up. At the last minute you had an attack of conscience, and you are alive. Sadiq would have wanted you to live. He would have wanted the best for you. So, please, show me the eager little boy I met on that shore so many years ago. Show me that he still cares."

Matthew started to tear up and he wiped at his eyes. "I do care, Francis. I've always cared. I was just… blinded for a moment."

Francis smiled and combed Matthew's hair behind his ear with his fingers. "That is all I ever wanted."

Arthur ducked his head in. "Come on. That other group is coming."

Still reluctant, Matthew made his way out into the camp, followed closely by those who had stayed with him in the tent last night. He stared at the ground, hyperaware that everyone was staring at him as if accusing. He rung his hands, but then he remembered that he should move his wrists as little as possible and stopped. He glanced over at Arthur who was staring at the line of cars where the strangers had made their camp, a bandaged hand tucked under his chin. Is this how Arthur feels? It made him feel trapped, helpless, useless. All the emotions he definitely did not need at the moment.

"Hey!"

Jeanne was running toward them, worry in her voice. She looked to Ivan before remembering that Ludwig was the leader and asked him instead, "We heard a commotion last night but didn't want to investigate further in respect of your privacy. Is there anything wrong or that we can help with?"
Ludwig was very aware of all the eyes on him and he said calmly, "It was nothing. The fire got a little out of hand and…" He stopped. Had the tents been close-knit enough last night when Jeanne and her companions had looked out to hide the fire so that the strangers didn't see he was lying?

But Jeanne's eyes were more than trusting which was surprising in such times. "Oh… oh, well I hope none of you got hurt. Was it bad?"

"Nein," Ludwig said with a tight smile. "Once we dumped some snow on it, the problem was contained."

Throughout all this, Matthew hid halfway behind Francis, anxiously pulling his sleeves down over his bandaged wrists. He still felt weak and a little light-headed, but he didn't want to die now because Jeanne would see that Ludwig had lied to her.

Jeanne nodded. "Oh, well that's good to hear." Then she added, "We're getting ready to head out. If you guys can pack up, we can fit your bags in the trunks and drive some more."

Ludwig hesitated. He didn't like the idea of being separated from his group and at that in such an entrapping space. But Jeanne was smiling at him expectantly and, really, it did make more sense to travel by car than by foot… "Okay. We will be ready soon."

"Great," Jeanne said, smiling overly much. "Come over when you're ready. We also have some breakfast for you guys." And she was off.

"Ve, I get the feeling she wants us to like her a lot."

Ludwig ignored everyone balking at Feliciano's rare perceptiveness and frowned as he watched Jeanne walked off, arms crossed. "I am not so sure about her. We should avoid speaking to them as much as possible."

Ivan was about to reinstate his earlier claim that he had in fact searched Jeanne's mind for deceptive qualities, but Feliciano frowned. "Ve, that would be rude! They are giving us food and a ride."

"There will be time for thanking later," Ludwig told him firmly. Like when we find out more about them. "Get packing!"

Gilbert kept looking over his shoulder. And now it was becoming quite obvious.

When Gilbert did so for the millionth time, Lovino elbowed him in the ribs. "Ouch," the Prussian hissed. "What was that for?"

"Stop looking so fucking much," Lovino growled back, staring ahead so that he didn't seem suspicious. "They're going to see you."

Gilbert huffed and uncomfortably settled back down into his seat, crossing his arms. "It's not my fault I'm concerned…"

Lovino rolled his eyes at his stubbornness, but he did have a point. They were riding in the second van along with Yao and Kiku, who had been deathly silent the whole time. Feliciano was traveling with Ludwig in the leading truck and as much as Lovino insisted Ludwig and Gilbert go together this time, Feliciano refused. The other van followed closely behind. And so now here they were, sitting in a cramped space in awkward silence with Gilbert's paranoia gnawing at him.

Their driver was not someone they knew. He was ebony and well built (a shit-brickhouse was how Lovino would describe him) and it didn't help that he kept glancing to the backseat through the rearview mirror every minute or so. Lovino swallowed.

"So…" he began and everyone jumped. His voice was a shock to the silence. "Um, driver, w-what is your name… sir?"

Gilbert flashed him a glare. Only moments before he had been scolded for looking over his shoulder and now Lovino was communicating with the guy? Gilbert knew he was more awesome than anybody, but this driver… DAMN. It was a close call. Close.

The man glanced up at him through the mirror, but was otherwise silent.

Lovino frowned. "Sir?"

They all jumped when the man in the passenger's seat turned around to address them. He was the youngest of the group, around sixteen, with a brown warhawk, snakebites, and torn jeans. To say the least, he was just a smidge less intimidating than the guy sitting next to him. "He speaks, haha! Thought you were mute for a second there. To cut down on the awkwardness going on here, I'm Nate. That walking black mountain over there is Marvin. He doesn't talk much."

"Hmph," grunted Marvin.

"Marvin?" Gilbert muttered a little too loudly, trying to hold down a snicker, but Lovino elbowed him again, in the stomach this time, and he gagged a bit.

"So, um, where are you guys headed?" Lovino continued, ignoring Gilbert's glare.

"Gerald's sister's house in Illinois," Nate replied. "Oh, that's the old fat guy who's driving the truck. His brother-in-law is a doomsday prepper and once Ger got him to stop saying how stupid we were for not preparing too, we got him to agree to us hiding out there for a while. He has a bunker, food stores, tons of weapons, and everything! Damn, I wish I coulda done the same thing but my 'rents were total bummers and sent me away to military school, haha!"

Lovino swallowed. "Yes, how unfortunate… d-did you escape from the school?"

"Tried," Nate admitted. "But they got dogs and electric fences and shit, and I didn't like the idea of getting snuffed that way. Sure, it did seem easier when I actually snuffed something, but, hey, that only lasts so long, y'know?" He smiled and his snakebites stretched.

Lovino was trembling now. Why oh why did they have to choose this van? "U-um…"

Nate sensed his fear and his expression turned serious. "But don't take that the wrong way. It's better you have me with you than some chickenshit pussy. Marvin and I eat those bros for breakfast, right Marv?"

"Hmph," grunted Marvin.

"Oh," Lovino said, his voice small. "But the pussies deserved it… right?"

"Sure they did!" Nate said a little too enthusiastically. "They were pussies. Oh, hey, I think we're stopping. Time to stretch our legs. Damn, I hated military school…"

And thank God for that. At least Nate would be too busy brooding about that school than contemplating where exactly Lovino fell on his pussy-meter.

Translations:

qu'est-il arrivé? Tu sainges!-What happened? You're bleeding!

il ne s'arrêttera pas-It won't stop

Je l'ai fait et je suis désolé-I did it, and I'm sorry

Ne dites pas que. Tu n'as rien à être désolé sur-Don't say that. You have nothing to be sorry about.

brittanique âne-British ass

Ani-chan-Big brother

A Word From the Writer: Kinda went overboard on the French here, sorry. Just so much drama the dialogue couldn't be written in English! And there are some things I'm a little unsure about here with the grammar and everything. This was written sometime during the summer when my mind was all fluffy so I may have forgotten some of my French. That being said, don't hesitate to inform me about errors. As well as with the Japanese... fuck, I wanna learn Japanese so bad, and then German, and maybe Russian... Goddammit, why was I not taught all these things when I was younger and my brain was a fucking sponge?

Aside from the mediocre American education system, yay, Canada didn't die! Nah, I wouldn't kill him now. That'd be too easy! Yup, he'll just have to go on and suffer without Sadiq, poor unlucky guy. Anyway, Canada's just too good a character to kill. Besides, I want to harden him up in time for the end. Prelude to a badass Canada. Oh yeah. It's gonna happen, and it will be EPIC.

Jk, I don't really know how it's gonna be. I haven't written it yet, and my fingers sometimes seem to have a mind of their own when typing...