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13 December 2009 @ 09:32 am
 
Characters: America & Canada
Fandom: Hetalia
Timeline: A few days after America leaves and the war begins. [I'm assuming?]
Warnings: Angst, more bombing, hints of rape, abuse, crazy Russia being crazy again KOLKOLKOLMOTHAFUCKA and then.... BROTHER LOVE! FLUFF! SO MUCH FUCKING CUTE FLUFF YOU WILL DROWN IN IT BECAUSE THAT'S JUST HOW CANADA AND AMERICA ARE. HERE, I BROUGHT SOME FLOATIES. TREAD SAFELY AND GOD SPEED.



m a t t h e w:He wakes up and hopes it's all a dream.

Matthew touches his neck lately, feeling all over it and he can't feel a thing (little does he know he's covered in cuts, bruises and hickeys). He blinks, looking around the floor and it's so cold, why is everything so cold?

He starts to hug himself when he realizes he doesn't have any clothes on, he blinks and stands up from the floor, grabbing a pile of clothes next to him.

Russia's weren't there.

Everything was just a terrible nightmare. Canada grins to himself a little and then stops, because as he's putting on his jeans he can see the bruises on his hips, the cuts on his arms, the hickeys (Russia bit him there, ohgodohgodohgod--) all over his thighs. He runs a hand through his hair after he buttons the last button.

He didn't see that, he didn't see anything, all of it was a terrible nightmare.

Then he turns around and sees his brother.
Alfred was back to being tied up, but he wasn't gagged anymore, he was looking at him quite anxiously and Canada blinks. He rubs at his eyes and grabs his glasses off the floor as well, was Al calling him the whole time? Huh, he didn't hear any of it. And then Matthew blushes at the thought of Al being there the whole time. How long had he been standing there, why was he bound and gagged anyway?

Canada chuckles, "Al--"

And then the world stops as soon as he puts his glasses on.

Oh, he can see.

He can see what's become of his country, because here he was, sitting in America's house. The coast of Ontario was gone, barren, Toronto and Ottawa--gone. There were so many people gone, his capitals gone. People were screaming and crying, they were dead, they were tortured and they screamed about the Russians but then someone was saying. "No. No we were captured by the Americans, the Americans betrayed us."
Oh no no no no.

He was in Alfred's house when it happened...did that mean...?

His...country...?

No no no, there's no way. He could hear the people screaming, he could hear them screaming about how no it was the russians and the people screaming about where was their baby, where was their family, where was everyone, where is god, where is god?

He gasps, a tremor going through his body and then he's sobbing, he just falls to his knees and sobs--he wasn't very confused anymore, no. He remembered, he remembers everything and he can see everything go through his mind at once as he shivers, as he trembles and he's sobbing and screaming, he can't stop screaming. He can't hear anything but the bombs going off in his country and all the people, all those people.

"W-why...?"

"Why...why...make it stop, make it stop..."


a l f r e d : Alfred has never really felt more useless until now, until he had watched his brother and Ivan, bound and gagged and couldn't do anything about it. Of course, this wasn't the first time he had been helpless, there was the incident when Russia shot him but that was different because he had a choice in the matter. This... this he most definitely did not have a choice in. If he did, he would told Matthew to run, he would have fought Ivan, something. But he didn't, instead he was forced to sit and watch and witness and ugh. He shudders, feeling his stomach stir, the bile rise in the back of his throat.

He just wished he could help, wished he could have done something instead of sitting. He kept his eyes closed most of the time, but there were still the sounds and then when Matthew was shot. And he wasn't even aware he was screaming, but it helped, it helped drown out most of the noises he didn't want to hear. Because with noises came images and those made him sick. The idea of his brother and Ivan, all of it, it made him cringe and squirm and just want to forget it all.

But he couldn't. And maybe it's what Ivan wanted, anyways. To punish them both, perhaps, to show that this is why Matthew shouldn't have entered the war and this is why Alfred shouldn't have ever left. Something... He doesn't know, though, and he doesn't really want to know.

He lifts his head when he hears Matthew stir and he just stares, stares because now everything little thing, the wounds, the bites, the hickeys, they're exposed now. He can see them in the light and then he looks away, feeling the guilt clench at his stomach and he wants to puke. He focuses his attention on the wall, on the floor, any where but his brother because to look at him would only cause more pain, more guilt. He was partly responsible for this, too, wasn't he?

Yeah, he was.

Because he was the one his brother was fighting for, the one his brother was wanting to help protect. He was starting to get bad at being the hero. Or, maybe, the reality of it all was that he wasn't the hero, that he couldn't save everyone like he wanted to. He couldn't even save himself, protect himself, so why did he ever think that he could protect his own brother?

Matthew just should have left him at Ivan's. It would have been the wisest choice, really.

He lifts his head when he hears Matthew's chuckle and his brows furrow and he says, "Matt... I.." and then he stops and watches the break down, knows exactly what Canada is hearing and what he's feeling and he still just doesn't even know what to do. He's been dealing with this ever since DC, ever since the war. He hears the screams of his own people, the sounds of war, and feels it, too. Sometimes, when he's not fighting and when he can sleep, he wakes up in the middle of the night screaming or crying or coughing up blood. Sometimes he wakes up with bruises and cuts that weren't there before, wounds that should have healed already but haven't.

Scars. Yes, he had a lot of those.

And when he hears Matthew asking him to make it stop, he just smiles sadly. He doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know how to make it stop, if he knew how it would have been something he he figured out a long, long time ago. But that's what you had to deal with when you were a nation, it's the weight you carried.

"Tell me how." he whispers it, wishing he could pull of the ropes and go to Matthew and comfort him some how. But how would he? This was his fault, everything, if he just hadn't gone over to Ivan's house, if he had just stayed home, Matthew never would have been dragged into this. None of this would have happened to him. And everyone would still be at peace. There would be no war, really, just tension. But that was better than anything...


m a t t h e w:Matthew's crying, choking on his own sobs and coughing, he's been screaming too much and he really has to stop that, he just keeps crying and the tears roll down his cheeks, and he laughs at Alfred. He laughs and rubs at his eyes, "I don't know Al. I don't know, I just wish I could be strong like you..." But here I am, crying and screaming.

"Here." He sniffles a little, still trying to smile despite everything, "I'll untie you." He slips on his shirt and inches towards his brother, untying him easily and grabbing America's glasses, which had also somehow fallen on the floor. "There? You okay now?" He doesn't know why he's asking questions about if America's okay when all he can hear in his ears are the screams and bombing of his people.

"Don't be too hard on yourself." He nods, even though tears are still rolling down his cheeks. "I...I...I..."

And then a second later he falls right in his brother's arms, clinging to him, sobbing on his shoulder and looking for a place to hide and buries himself into his brother's shoulder. "Just make it stop, it's all I hear and all I see and...and...I just...I want...we need to be..."

And he's coughing again, coughing up blood on his brother's shoulder and staring at the cuts down down his arms. He clings tighter, he doesn't want to see, he doesn't want to see or hear his people dying or remember what Russia had done to him.

"I can't. I can't. Don't leave okay? I need you, I need you and I just want you to be here and I want you to be okay, we both gotta be okay, alright? If we're going to win this war, we both got to be okay." Canada is just babbling after that, it's all about his land and the people that inhabit it.

He's whispering things about how he liked that person, he remembers who he was and how the little girl died, so many kids are dead and how can he do this to me, he keeps whispering about how Russia could do this to me.

He didn't love me anymore, I didn't need that, I don't understand.

And he sobs, holding on to America for dear life, not looking up at him once. He just keeps muttering things about bombs and Ontario and war and why. "Did you...did you...did you see what I said to you, right before...right before he...h-he...he..."

He can't make himself go on.
He won't go on, so here he is, shaking his head into his brother's shoulder and mumbles something.

"I can't do this."


a l f r e d : Alfred shakes his head, gives a bitter sort of laugh as he says, "I'm not strong." He wants to say "if I was strong, I would have saved you. If I was strong, I could have stopped Ivan. I could have stopped all of this by not letting you enter the war. That would have been the best protection." but he doesn't. He doesn't say anything, just lifts his head to watch Matthew places his glasses back onto his face, as he unties him. His arms are too stiff and sore, but he stretches them out anyways, staring down at the rope burns as he listens to his brother's questions, but not really answering them.

He wasn't okay. He had just watched his enemy, the man he once loved, rape his brother, had watched Matthew's innocence shatter and his country fall into ruins. It all happened so fast, just like it had happened with him. In a blink of an eye, the war had changed, everything had. He had, his brother... Just when he thought everything was going to be okay, that maybe they would be okay, and they would win the war, all of this happened.

He glances at Matthew out of the corner of his eye, his expression carefully blank, as he rubs at the burns on his wrists. It would be impossible to not be hard on himself, Matthew didn't know how this affected him, how sick this made him. He didn't know how it was all he could think about and all he would think about in the coming days and how much he wants to cry or scream or break something. How much he wants to run and throw himself into the chaos in his country, to find Ivan, something. Anything.

He can feel the waves of anger rolling through him now, replacing the nausea from before, and he's already starting to formulate a plan, something so unlike him. Because he was the one who always rushed into things head first, and maybe that's what he was doing, maybe that's what his plan was. But for now, it was a plan, a plan he liked, and a plan he was going to do.

When Matthew pushes into his arms, he wraps his own arms around him, holding him close. He presses his face into his brothers hair and when Canada clings tighter, America just wraps his arms more securely around him. He doesn't know what else to do, he's not sure what to say. He knows he's supposed to be comforting him but he doesn't feel like he should be the one comforting Matthew. It should have been someone else, not him, not the monster who had let this happen, who had failed to protect his own country and now his own brother.

"I won't leave," he says, the promise ringing in his voice. "I won't leave you. But you're the one that has to be okay, Matthew. Don't worry about me, alright? I'm just fine." a lie but it doesn't matter anyways because he wasn't the one who needed the comfort. He wasn't the one who needed anything right now. "I'm fine, so worry about yourself, okay? Stop worrying about me." he doesn't like it that Canada is trying to comfort him but he supposed that it was the only thing he knew to do in that moment.

He feels his throat close up when he Matthew asks if he saw what he said and he nods slowly, saying, "I did, I saw." Yes, Alfred had saw. He saw those words that Matt had mouthed to him and then too many other things, things he didn't want to see, things he didn't ever want to witness. He resists a shiver, the tears that want to spring to his eyes because he has to be strong, he has to be strong for his brother because he couldn't be strong for him last night. It wouldn't make up for anything that had been done, it wouldn't change the past, but it was the only thing he could do now.

Alfred lifts his brothers face and cradles it carefully in between his own hands, as if he's afraid of hurting him more, and he smiles, a sad sort of smile but he's still smiling.

"Don't say that," he chides gently. "You can do this... We both can. We can get through this and I'll help you rebuild your country. And.. and.. I'll help to make sure everything is okay again..." nothing would be exactly right again and it was his fault. His smile just gets sadder at the thought. "I'll make sure your people will be safe from anything else that might happen, I'll make sure you're safe." he stares at him, brows furrowing slightly.

"I promise, alright? I promise I won't let anything happen to you again. I won't let this happen again. I won't." he doesn't know if he's saying it for himself or for Matthew. He doesn't know who wants to hear it more. He doesn't even know if it's possible. He doesn't care.

"I'm sorry, Matthew. I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop him..." he lets go of his brother and takes a few steps back. He's not crying, there's just that blank look on his face again as he spreads his fingers helplessly. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you like a brother should."

And then he whispers, "But please don't forgive me because I don't deserve it." and he gives a shaky laugh, running his hands through his hair and giving a broken smile.

"I don't deserve any of your forgiveness or love or anything like that." he doesn't explain why though, just says it, hoping Matthew would understand.


m a t t h e w:"I am saying this, and...and...it's better you know? If I'm not around you can exert all your energy in rebuilding your own country instead of mine, you shouldn't have to be watching over me." He chokes it all out quickly, but it was so forced which just made everything sound even more terrible. He sounded bitter, he sounded angry and most important the nation had stopped crying. Canada just looked unusually broken, probably because he never dealt with this much before, he wasn't a war person after all.

"...you..." He looks up at America, twirling his hair with one finger, watching it curl and uncurl, untwist and twist and he gets this far away look on his face because he can remember is Russia.

The lump is his throat is getting harder and harder to swallow down.

"You shouldn't keep a promise like that. I guess...I guess I was wrong, I guess he would have come for me right? I guess, now that I'm with you that people are going to come for me." He shakes a little at the thought of that, still playing with the strands of his hair (curl and uncurl, twist and untwist). "I...I-I have to learn to manage for myself."

And he doesn't realize what America's saying until he takes those couple steps back, Canada reaches out to him but then shoves his hands back in his pockets. Instead he can feel his eyes well up again and he hates himself for it, he hates himself because he's so weak and why did he do that, he needed him, does nobody understand?

"Stop apologizing! There's nothing to be sorry for, you're not the hero all the time Al, and then you couldn't be. There's nothing to forgive you for because you shouldn't be apologizing okay? You're fine okay and...and."

He's hysterical, he's screaming and he wants to tear his hair out and he can't, he just can't because he's losing it, he's losing everything.

He takes one deep breath.

"I can't do it Al, I can't. You deserve everything, everything I've given you, you were once in my position once, you were...Russia...Russia hurt you too and don't say I'm different or worse. You're just better then me, you were always better then me."

"I just...I...I just want everything to stop and I keep asking you and begging you and when you don't give me an answere, when you just...just...what else am I supposed to do? Just...just...I can't be here, I can't be in this house. But I can't move, I can't go anywhere else, I have no will, I don't care and I'm sorry okay? But I can't do anything and I'm useless and weak and pathetic and I'm stupid, I'm so stupid because..."

He laughs, it's a small laugh, nothing like Russia's laugh. No, Matthew just laughed to cover up all the tears, he stares up at America with tears still rolling down his cheeks. "Y-you saw? You saw what I said, I'm so stupid..."


a l f r e d : He just stands there as his brother screams, just listens and smiles his little broken smile. He doesn't agree, doesn't disagree, doesn't say anything, really. He's not even sure what to say, he was always really bad at this comforting thing and he wants to tell Matthew, "You know, you're probably right. That promise could be so easily broken and we would both be messes again." but he doesn't. And he just wants to apologize again and again and again because it's the only thing he knows to do, it's the only thing that's keeping down all the swell of emotions, the only thing that's keeping him sane right now. If he was alone, he would have already had his little break down, and his room would have been in ruins. Everything would have been shattered and torn down and then he would leave just to escape the memories that the room held.

The ghosts that would haunt him forever.

"Stop it." he sighs, rubbing at his forehead, kneading it. "Stop it, Matthew. You're not weaker then me and you never have been. You've always been better than me because you think about things, you don't go rushing into them like I do, you're not stupid like I am. I'm just the war-hungry brother, right? I'm the one who doesn't know how to stop and think of the consequences, to even bother with fleshing out a plan. I always wanted more than I could ever have because, you know, I'm pretty greedy." he laughs as he says it. "Wanting independence from Arthur, wanting to be the hero, wanting to stop the Cold War... And it's true, you know, I am pretty stupid. Because if I wasn't I would have seen all of this coming, I would have known because, now that I think about it, Ivan doing that..." he trails off and the unspoken words of "it doesn't even surprise me." hangs in the air.

He feels sick again.

He's thinking of how similar he and Ivan are, how both Ivan and Matthew had told them they're just alike, how Alfred could so easily become like Russia if he wasn't careful. He feels his stomach roll and the bile rise and he chokes on it, hand covering his mouth. He just stares at Canada, eyes wide, because that could have been him doing that to his brother, right? Because he and Russia were the same, weren't they? That would be him in the future, hurting people like that, raping them without any guilt and actually taking pleasure in it. To do it out of spite and greed and revenge. That's what everyone was telling him, that he was going to become a monster like Ivan in his future.

The idea of it made him tremble and he moves away from Matthew again, trying to swallow it all back down, trying to hide it because he needed to comfort Matthew right now. He didn't need to have these thoughts, these feelings. They were just getting in the way. His emotions always had a funny way of doing that.

"Why are you stupid?" he asks quietly, facing his brother again. "Because you love someone like me?" that is pretty stupid. he thinks it but doesn't say it, something he's been doing a lot tonight.

He laughs bitterly.

"I guess it would be, you know, since Russia and I are so alike." his words were harsh and the tears welled in his eyes. "You said it yourself, too." but he wouldn't ever hurt anyone like that, he wouldn't. There was a pleading look on his face now as he looked at his brother, as if he's trying to get him to understand because maybe he just needs to hear that he won't be like that, he just needs the reassurance. Which is stupid and selfish, but he is stupid and selfish, that was something he always was and something he couldn't seem to change no matter how hard he wanted to.

And then he looks away, at something else, shaking his head.

"Sorry." he says. "Sorry I just..." but he doesn't know what to say.


m a t t h e w:Matthew pulls America's wrist and pulls him closer to him, "Shut up Al, shut up and listen to me for once okay? I'm tired of you ignoring everything anyone ever says to you, even if someone was praising you right in your face you ignore it, even when someone says I love you, you ignore it. Or maybe you just like to ignore me?"

Canada's hand is shaking as he holds his brother's wrist, so he just lets go and takes his few steps back before America takes them, and he smiles a broken-heartde smile. "You're not stupid. You're impulsive, but not stupid. You're selfish, but you're not stupid. If you were stupid, someone like Russia wouldn't...he wouldn't even glance at you."

He laughs, his laugh is hesitant and shaky, just like everything else in him right now. "You're strong hearted, strong willed, stronger then me. You're just better, that's just the order of things, sure I'm smart and I think--but you won all those, well except the last one. I mean, even America slips up sometimes, but you know what?"

He stands up, smiling a bit, laughing even. "I think that's pretty damn amazing either way, I really do think you're amazing and I do think you're better then me. I am weaker then you, there is no way in this that I am stronger then you, in anything. I'm so innocent and so fragile and you, even back when you were innocent--you were nothing like I am, like I was."

His smile fades away at the mention of Ivan, he squirms a little at the thought of that. "No. No, I don't care if it's not surprising Ivan did it or not, you didn't expect him to go to the lengths he did with you or to me. After all he put both of us through, the truth is for some reason we think because he loves us that he won't do a single thing to us, even after everything."

And he breathes, in and out, his eyes becoming watery again, but finally his ears are free of the screams of his people, free of the sights of bombs, free of the thought of a barren wasteland.

"That's why I'm so stupid Al."

But he wasn't free from being so broken, he wasn't free from everything else that was still happening. He wasn't free of this, of his heart weighing so heavy and all these scars, all these scars were going to be there in the morning.

Another tear rolls down his cheek, weak, Canada was so weak.

Then he realizes he's crying because his brother was doing the same thing.

And then he realizes what he said and stops himself, he feels the tears well up even more, how could he have said that? Why did he say that? Why did he have to go to those limits? And he stares at Alfred's eyes, watery and all and he stares at him for a really long time before answering. "No. No, I don't love you because of Russia and no I don't love you because it's stupid to love you. You just love so many other people and all these people love you, I know you say nobody likes you but then so many people love you, you know? It's just stupid to love you because all it does is...you just, I'm miserable."

He starts to cry a little after that, like an actual cry because truthfully, Canada was miserable--what else could he be right now? "It's why...I can't, you know? I can't do any of it, and it's stupid to love your brother, it's stupid to love your brother when he's America, the United States of America. No, you're not like Russia. Russia was always selfish, always harsh, he doesn't know how to be like you, like some force that just attracts people and no matter what can stay strong, powerful, happy and...so many other things."

"He loves you because you're you, you're something else bro, really. Everyone says it, hell, England says it--nobody's scared because you got bombed because you can pick yourself up, but when people hear about me..."

Matthew smiles a little, just looking down at the floor, just letting himself cry and sob, because at this point he didn't care and he didn't know what to do. "Russia can stay strong, he's happy and all too--but you? You're...free, Russia doesn't know how to be free, he's always so bound to people, always and then he doesn't know how to live. No, America, you're very much alive, trust me."


a l f r e d : He let's Matthew pull him close and he doesn't flinch or pull but, just listens quietly, absorbing everything he said. He wasn't sure where to even begin or what to say, it was always just like Canada to compliment him, to give him his ego boost, even now when he definitely should not be getting one. It should have been the other around, Alfred should have been the one doling out the compliments and the gentle words of comfort and just trying to make Matthew feel better but he wasn't. Instead he was the one receiving them and he just took them all in silently, pressing his lips together, eyes half lidded and that soft look of sadness on his face again.


And he wants to laugh when he hears about how so many people love him and just tell Matthew that it was all a lie, that everyone who said that only did it because when it came time for war, they wanted him on their side because he was a powerful nation with goals and dreams. They wanted him to fight for them, with them, and that was the only reason for the supposed love and respect. And then there were some who just wanted to break him down like Russia had, to take over his country and destroy his nation. He had been a target for this ever since he pushed away from England, from Arthur, ever since he had shown everyone that he was not a nation to fuck with. It was like a challenge to some nations, an amusing one, and to others it was awe inspiring, too.

Because if he could gain independence then others could.

People were always looking up to him, waiting for his fall, or his rise, or just to do something that would leave them shocked and surprised or to save them, to help them. It was a pressure he had known all his life, the pressure he had decided to taken on when he became one of the most powerful countries in the world. He wonders if Matthew even knows how lucky he is that he doesn't have that pressure, that he doesn't have to live up to all these expectations and never know the pain of failure, never know the sting of the nations who laugh at every fall, every failure.

Sure, Alfred could brush it off, but it still hurt none the less, he still always thought about it, even if it didn't seem like it. But he always bounced back, it always made him want to work harder, it's just who he was.

"You're right..." he says slowly. "People are going to want to get to you during this war because they know you're my brother, they know that it'll hurt me, that it will tear me apart. That it'll make me do something stupid." he smiles. "Because I am going to do something stupid once I can." he admits it so freely and it kinda makes him laugh because he doesn't care if Matthew knows that, knows he's going to do something stupid and reckless once everything was settled. Was it even really surprising, coming from him?

"I didn't ignore what you said to me, I just..." he looks at Canada, tilting his head, as if he were thinking very carefully. "Matthew, loving you... if I loved you openly... it would put you more at risk. People would hurt you intentionally just to get to me." he wonders if that's a confession he's making, that he's telling his brother that he loves him. And, oh yes, he loves his brother. He loves his brother probably more than Matthew ever thought and he sighs again, twisting his lips as he stares at his brother, thinking.

"I don't want you to get hurt again. I mean, I dunno," he runs a hand through his hair, scrubbing at it, as if it'll help him clear his mind. "I mean, I owe everything to you right now, don't you understand? You helped me more than you probably ever thought possible, you're the one who got me out of Ivan's house, who talked some sense into me, who showed me that I wasn't so stupid, that I could fix everything. You're the one who backed me up and gave me the courage and.." he gets close to Matthew, pressing his forehead against his.

"I don't want you to be hurt..." his tugs on Matthew's hand, almost childishly. "I don't want my love to put you in any danger. Because, I mean. I do love you." such an awkward confession but he was never really good at it.

"Is that okay? Me wanting that?" he asks, pulling back. "It doesn't have to be. We can work around it or something, I dunno. I just want you to be safe, too, because my nation is already kinda fucked but we can rebuild after I get the Russians out and everything and then I'll figure out a way to help rebuild yours and then we'll be okay. We'll be happy and we can be happy together. I mean, if you want, I don't know..." he's babbling and rubbing at the back of his neck anxiously as he looks at Matthew.


m a t t h e w:To say the least, Canada was dumbfounded.

He doesn't know what to say when Alfred says he loves him, he let's America tug on his hand while Canada stands there--no tears in his eyes, but a confused, thoughtful expression. He's transfixed on his brother, of course he is, hanging on to every word he says and every smile he forms because of someone like Canada.

Maybe, he didn't know what to do because Matthew was so used to being the insignificant one, to being the one left in the dust and hearing these confessions of love; but never actually be involved. He would just hear them all the time because nobody would realize he was in the room anyway, and he would go back to being, well himself. His thoughts would linger on America for a second and then he would try not to think about it anymore.

But now, he doesn't know how to react.
Does Al even know how much he loves him? No, probably not. It was odd, that Canada didn't get all those cliche, butterflies in stomach feelings around his brother. No, what Canada felt was an attraction, it was just that. He was drawn to America like a magnet, he admired him afar but then realized he admired him from up close too, and then sometime he figured out that butterflies were just something you get sometimes because almost everytime he around America his heart wouldn't stop beating so fast and no matter how much he didn't want to, he would always be smiling.

Alfred, America, his brother made him happy.

He would do anything to make his brother happy.

It's why that after a long pause, he laughs at Alfred, a genuine laugh but he's still smiling sadly. "I...I..." And again he doesn't know what to say, because he's smilingso damn hard and he can feel the heat up on his cheeks so instead, he just walks closer to his brother and places a hand around the one that was on his neck. He wraps his arms around him and then wonders why did he do that, but then realizes he doesn't care.

"I...it's...okay...I just, it's nice...knowing you care so much about me...I...I wasn't really expecting that out of you Al." He tilts his head to the side, a light chuckle coming out of his lips, "I guess I underestimated you, huh? You know, I do that alot. I would like that though, for us to be happy, happy together...I just...I...thank you."

And you know, Canada can't help it.

But he's crying again and he's not really sure why.


a l f r e d : He's watching his brother with the same unsure and anxious look, his hand still on his neck even though he had stopped rubbing at it nervously. And when he sees Matthew smile, Alfred gives his own little smile, a hesitant one, as if he's embarrassed. And he supposes that he is, confessing things like always made him nervous, because the idea of being rejected so easily always came into play when someone put their feelings out there. He wasn't sure why he had the idea that Matthew would reject him, he had loved him, too, after all, so it was silly to even think that way. But he had been afraid that after everything that had happened, after everything that they both had said, that maybe Canada wouldn't want him anymore.

Alfred's smile widens as he hears Matthew's laugh, but there's still the unsure look in his eyes because he notices that Matthew is still sad, too, but he's grinning now as if it's going to make everything better, as if it's going to make his brother happier. He twines his fingers with the other nations when their hands meet and then he pulled his brother closer, holding him to him and wishing this moment of happiness would just last forever. It was a dumb, cliche thought, but he was so sick of the war, of having to battle wave after wave of anger and sadness, of having to listen to his nation suffer, of having to feel it.

And he doesn't like having to fight Ivan out on the battlefield, maybe that's what hurts the most. Sometimes he likes it but most of the time he hates it, most of the time he ends up tearing himself apart from it. And this was something he'd never admit to anyone, to say aloud. But maybe it was obvious, maybe it wasn't a secret like he had thought it was. Because, after all, they had loved each other, maybe still did, who knows, and now they were fighting each other, hurting each other.

"Not a lot of people expect me to care about other nations," he says with a laugh. "I mean, I'm America. I only know myself and think about myself." his laughter fades into a tender grin and he just shakes his head.

"Why are you crying?" he blinks, laughing quietly as he wipes away Matthew's tears gently, with his thumbs. "We're supposed to be happy right now, right?" he touches his forehead to Canada's again, smiling as he looks into his brothers eyes.

"It'll be okay," he says and he doesn't know why but he does, "we'll be okay. 'Cause we have each other." it was an innocent thing to say, like a kid would say to another, but that's just how Alfred was.


m a t t h e w:"I...I am happy." Matthew nods and he can feel the tears rolling down his face, so fast, so natural, it was like breathing the way he cried. He had done it so much in the past day that it kind of hard not to. "I mean...it's just...I'm sorry, it's alot to take in. I mean, I love you, I love you so much, I really do--I don't think you understand."

And he laughs, this one is a bitter laugh because for some reason his thoughts are going back to Russia, not of their past relationship oh but all those things that happened last night. "I mean, maybe it's one of those so happy I'm crying things, because this makes me really, really happy that you care about me. I mean, you're right, you're America, nobody expects you to care so much about other nations--about me."

But he's still shaking, and he's holding on to Alfred, wanting to stay here forever. Yes, yes they will be okay won't they? This was not only only America's words but Canada's blind faith to America, yes everything will be okay simply because his brother was America and they weren't going to fall anytime soon.

He was still one of the most powerful nations in the world.

"But it's more then that, do you understand? Sometimes I wonder if you understand, because...because, like I said, other people love you and you love other people. You can deny it all the time but when has there been a point in your life when someone didn't love you, sure they might be using you and breaking you all in the end, but everything still comes down to love--right?" Canada nods, sure of himself as he says these words.

It hurt to say, because it meant that Alfred still loved Ivan.

Which, he knew Alfred still did--love Russia and all.

"I love you, I don't love anyone else. The thing is,I've...loved you, for a very, very, very long time. I'm not talking a really long time just--"

He stops himself, then smiles.

"Just, just...you'll see."

And while Alfred didn't see, he most certainly did feel.

Matthew pressed his lips against the other nation's, the tears had stopped rolling down his cheeks at least, now he was just kissing him and not wanting to let go. He was afraid that if he left go, his brother would run away because he was beng so emotional, with all these tears and whatnot, then he's kissing him. He's pouring all this love into him and he feels everything, everything in one little kiss because that's just exactly how it should be.
He should be able to feel everything, to feel so much that the wind was knocked out of him every time, that his head wouldn't stop spinning every time and that he would pull away smiling everytime he did pull away from Alfred.

He didn't want to pull away, he was greedy for more kisses like that, but then he wasn't because he wonders if America even feels the intensity and emotions as much as Canada does.

It was so much easier to pretend that he did when you were kissing him, when you were kissing anyone.

Nevertheless, Canada pulls away with a smile on his face.

"I love you."


a l f r e d :"It's okay, you don't have to apologize so much," Alfred laughs again and he can't help but hug Matthew, he was being so cute, he just couldn't help it. He was just happy that his brother was happy, that he was the one who had made him happy. And maybe he didn't really understand how Canada loved him, but what he knew was that he loved his brother, too. That it was something that had always been there and maybe he didn't notice it or maybe he tried not to or maybe he had always known but was always scared. Because Matthew was his brother, if America loved him then Canada would be at so much risk because of him. People would use that to their advantage.

So maybe that's why he had never realized it before.

With Ivan it was different, they always played for separate teams, save for the first world war, and Russia could handle himself. No one wanted to attack Russia, anyways, everyone was afraid too because he was so powerful and so ruthless and no one wanted to attack America because he held just as much power. It worked for the both of them until now, however. But that was a different story. And it made Alfred's heart ache just a bit because nothing would go back to normal, he would probably never be the same after this, nor would Ivan or Matthew and that hurt. He could have prevented it all and...

But he pushes those thoughts away. Because Alfred could fix himself, he could pull himself together and he was sure that Matthew could, too, and if he couldn't then he would help him. It's what brothers did, it's what Alfred did, and it's always what Matthew did for America, too.

"I understand," he replies, nodding, the smile still on his lips though he's completely serious. And he knows Canada is aware that he still loves Russia, as much as it hurts, as much as he doesn't want to. It was just a healing thing, he would get over it in time, wouldn't he? Yes, he would. He believed in himself. "I'll get over it in time, though." he says it out loud, not sure if Matthew would understand or not but maybe he would.

"I mean.. Ivan.." he clarifies, just in case, before grinning nervously. And then he blinks, looking very much surprised when he hears that Matthew has loved him for a very long time and he sorta laughs, amused, surprised, everything.

"A-ah, okay...?" and then he's pulled into the kiss before he can ask just what he'll see and he smiles into the kiss, pulling Matthew closer, pressing himself closer. He nearly melts into the kiss, into the emotion, which was very strange for him indeed but it wasn't like it was the first time it had happened to him. And he kisses back, pushes his own emotions into the kiss, the happiness that he's feeling, the love, the want. He's thoughts are getting fuzzy and if he could, he just would have laughed and laughed because he was so thrilled by this kiss. He wasn't even sure why. And he's nearly drunk from it, too, from his emotions and Matthew's emotions and he wonders if he's getting his point across as he presses his lips closer.

And he hates that it has to end but doesn't really mind because of what Matthew's telling him.
"I love you, too," he grins, a silly little happy grin and you could just see him literally swell from the overload of joy.

SIDE NOTES:
*This rp is basically a continuation of a drabble Niki, misfittinq , wrote. Like, continuation as in the next day. Haha. I'm not sure if she wants the drabble to be posted here but I'll just give a basic run down of what happens:
*Ivan IS SO PISSED OFF. So he sneaks into America's house during the war, drugs him then ties him up, then when Canada comes to see what's going on Ivan rapes Canada by gun point in font of America, who's forced to watch. |D
*And theeeeen Ivan shoots Canada and, well, you read earlier about what cities and such are gone.