Hey everyone, I have been thinking that maybe this could have been a chapter then the end of it ending up as an epilogue, but things worked out after all and here is the last chapter. And since it is the last chapter, those annoying lyrics I bog you down with are at the end ;) I still encourage you to read them or the chapter title won't make sense. It has been a great ride guys and everyone that has commented, I thank you for driving me to do this despite everything that has been dragging me down. Enjoy Throwback one last time!

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Happy Ending

Nigh tripping over the small bear situated conveniently in front of the door, Matthew tore into his house. There was some vague hope that Prussia had just come back here rather than hanging out at the brothel. Finding this hope to be empty, Matthew yanked forlornly at his hair, dropping to his knees in the foyer. Russia and Prussia's presences was drifting in and out, hence making them very hard to pinpoint separately.

Ludwig, his hair in disarray, came up behind the young Canadian and put a hand to his shoulder. Matthew looked over his shoulder at him and shook his head. Tears welled up in the violet eyes and he asked the last thing Ludwig would ever have expected.

"Is it wrong that I almost don't care?" The gloved hand slipped off the boney shoulder, Ludwig clasping it with his other behind his back. Shamed, the strawberry-blonde looked away from him, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"You never tolt me vhy." The German said simply. Curious, Matthew looked up to his friend, tipping his head to the side to ask for clarification.

"I never told you what?"

"Vhy you sait dat if he ever does ged better, you voultn'd go back to him."

Matthew was silent for a moment, standing up straighter as Prussia along with Russia's signatures pinged in the back of his mind before disappearing again.

"He's never loved me." Matthew answered bitterly, looking at a dent on the wall Prussia had caused. However, Ludwig was left totally and utterly baffled by this assumption.

"Vhat in de vorld made you dink dat?" His tone reflected his confusion and Matthew stood, walking off into the kitchen, the German hot on his heels. "He lofs you more dan anyding." he tried to persuade, the Canadian paying him little mind as he pulled out a glass and a gallon of milk.

"Prussia told me himself. Gilbert told him." Matthew poured some milk into the glass before him, sticking it back into the refrigerator. Dumbfounded, Ludwig stared at the boy's back, his mind groping for some part of that that made any sense at all. "Gilbert's alive in his head… And he doesn't want out." Taking a cookie from his store, Matthew bit into it, chewing a small piece. That was what made Ludwig recover, his bewilderment replaced by anger.

"You voult believe Prussia of all bastards?" Ludwig growled, Matthew giving him a look over his shoulder again. "Matthew, I know you are young, bud I hef nod vonce, efer doughd you schtupid." Blinking, Matthew turned all the way around to face him, offense playing across his features. "I mighd neet to redink dat."

"What makes you think I'm so stupid then? Was it you he beat up? Was it you he threatened to rape out of anger? Was it you that he told he didn't love?" The slighter man's eyes slowly narrowed with each question, barely even furious slits when he was done.

"No. I can'd say dat. I can say my bruder vas firm vhen I vas a chilt, ditn'd care who he rapet in frond of me, dat he sait he haded me… I can also say dat he is a liar." The German paused to let this sink in, "My bruder, no madder how much he liket a person, voult never led dem control him. By saying dat he doesn't vant oud und you believing dat bullschid is an utter insuld! By beliefing Prussia you are an idiod!" Ludwig yelled in a voice usually only Italy ever heard, making Matthew back slowly away from him. "My bruder, my real bruder lofs you more dan anyding in dis gott-given vorlt! I am surprist und disappoindet dat you gafe up so easily! You have him of all people as a lofer und you are unable to see vhat he has belieft for mosd of his life! Noding.Vord hafing. Comes. Easily!" Ludwig was in his face, coating the cowering man in his spit as he yelled in his harsher accent. He was panting, unwittingly his shoulders were raised upwards in a stance he used to intimidate others and beneath all of this was the true emotion they portrayed. Fury as deep as the ocean wafted off of him in great droves, making Matthew press himself against the counter away from him.

In a small voice he asked, "What makes you so sure?" The expression that darkened Germany's face further scared Canada, but he was in for a shock.

"De clodes he vas vearing de nighd before dis schtardet? Vhere are dey?" The blonde asked in a growl, the furrows in his brows growing more defined when Canada just looked confused. "Vhere!"

"Under my bed upstairs!" Canada yelped, holding his hands up to defend himself if need be. Frighteningly enough, Germany grabbed one of his wrists, dragging him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room. "Let go! What are you doing?" He frantically tried in vain to regain control of his wrist but the older nation wasn't having any of it. Roughly, Germany shoved him to the bed, getting down on his hands and knees before dragging out the folded clothes. He threw them at Canada and gave him an order, "Look drough de pockeds."

"W-Why?" The helpless man asked with a quaver, terrified of his relentless friend. A growl issued from Germany's throat and he hopped to his task, searching through the various pockets of Gilbert's clothes. He swore he heard a clink inside the pants then… A clink? Fishing his hand into the back pocket of the pants, he retrieved two rings… Tungsten rings.

Nearly all the functions of his body stopped for the second his eyes laid themselves upon the bands. His heart froze, his breath caught, not a muscle twitched, even his brain couldn't properly comprehend what had just happened.

"I hat suspecdet dat he nefer showt dese to you. You didn't vere yours und… Especially tonighd tolt me dat." Ludwig saw the big, fat tears drip from Matthew's cheeks, his face still turned down and affixed to the pieces of metal. He reached out and plucked one of them from the Canadian's hand, he barely lifting his head to look at it as Ludwig spun it around his index finger. "Dit you know dat tungschten, vonce cool, is nearly impossible to alder de shape of? Id can go drough hell und back, schtill ids original shape." The German appeared to be completely captivated by the ring as he let it slip down to rest at the base of his finger, something akin to jealousy glistening in his eyes. "Id is commonly uset for de vedding bants of soldiers who don'd vand dere to be any chance of dere ring varping or breaking." His eyes flicked to tearful Matthew and he slipped the ring back into his palm, folding his fingers closed. "You are de only person he hes efer vantet to marry… Und righd now? I don'd unterschant vhy." When Matthew lifted his head, Ludwig swore he felt a cold wind rush through the room. He had never seen such livid emotion in those violet eyes, the cold hate there reminded him of Russia.

Matthew's hand tightened around the rings, his breaths coming in grunts of repressed anger. Suddenly, his fist flew up, pounding down on the bedside-table, the whole object splintering on contact. Vehemently he searched the back of his mind for Russia's location finding it easier than he would have expected. He shoved Ludwig from his way, throwing on his long coat before pocketing the rings. Once having done so, Ludwig saw something new once again. It was the first time he had ever seen Matthew holding anything more dangerous than a handgun. He holstered an assault rifle to himself, his eyes flicking to Ludwig.

"He's in a warehouse in Vancouver." The words themselves were deadly and Matthew threw another of the high-powered rifles to his brother in arms. Germany caught it without word, knowing that total obedience was going to be expected of him now. He never had had the true pleasure of seeing Canada fight, but now he was pretty sure he was grateful to be on his side. "Let's go find my fucking husband."

()()()

Outside a back alley warehouse, Canada and Germany stood at the ready, taking deep breaths to calm themselves. The moment they pointed guns at Russia, they knew a full-scale war was going to be fully initiated between the humans. No more of this cold-war shit with the rest of the world, all hell was on the verge of breaking loose.

A loud scream from inside tensed Canada's muscles and he looked at Germany, narrowing his eyes while he raised his gun. A quick nod, the two slipped inside the barely ajar door. Flicking his fingers, Canada motioned to the side, Germany taking off to go around to the back. Was it at all disgusting that Ludwig moved with complete silence only because of the screams tearing the air apart? Rather than feeling sorry for Prussia or Gilbert, anger was roiling in Canada's breast, begging for an outlet.

Gripping his gun tighter, he slunk between the various stacked crates in the room, growing closer and closer to the epicenter of the screaming with each step. From where he stood now, he was able to see Russia standing over a prostrate and writhing form. Oddly enough, there was no weapon in his hand and he just stared down at him with a menacing smile.

A scream that must've worn the albino's throat raw reverberated off the walls, his eyes squeezed shut. Russia giggled childishly and poked at his arm with his boot.

"I heven't eeven starteed yet." Adding to Prussia's pain, Russia kicked him somewhat playfully. Another cry and now Prussia thrashed violently on the floor, curling himself into a ball in the end. Such a strong reaction to a comparatively small stimulus.

Matthew yet again took a deep breath and spied past Russia and his victim to see Germany in his proper place and awaiting some sort of signal. His head jerked in a nod when Prussia's screams sharpened to shrill, they both wincing at the noise.

While even Russia seemed put off by the noise, Germany and Canada advanced on him, their guns expertly trained on him.

"Get your sadistic ass away from him!" The blonde ordered, Russia glancing over his shoulder to Germany before back to him with a smile.

"I swear, child, I haven't touched heem." The tallest man assured, the man in question breathing heavily through his pain on the floor. Russia's eyes narrowed then, "However, dat gun ees a vonderful declaration to me."

"Not a shot has to be fired if you give Prussia back to me." Canada was a great liar and Russia was done hiding his long-hidden irritation.

"He vas never yours!" He bellowed angrily, stomping on Prussia's wrist, an awful snap coupling with the renewed screaming. "And he hasn'd been yours in over sixdy years!" The big nation snarled at Germany.

Canada not completely understanding and just seeing as Russia having some major "abandonment" issues, fired his gun upward for attention. A gun swiftly flew up from Russia's coat and took aim at Canada.

"Yoo're nod dee only one veed back-up." The barrel of Germany's rifle tapped Russia's back and an irritated growl emanated from him. In one swift motion Russia cracked Matthew on the side of the head with his own gun and ripped Germany's from his strong hands.

The blonde on the floor scrambled back for his gun as Germany kept the hulking behemoth's attention, managing to disarm him at the same time Russia did the same to him. As they began to engage in hand-to-hand combat Germany yelled "Take him und leaf!"

Trusting a nation that started two world wars to be able to hold his own, Matthew did as ordered; he grabbed the two guns in his immediate proximity and stuffed them into oblivion (the last one lost to the various shadows of the warehouse) before hefting his screaming friend over his shoulder.

Too bad as Canada booked it out of the warehouse, he realized too late that Germany had also lost both of those world wars. Already having gotten the abused albino away from Russia, Canada went against his better side and fled.

()()()

Meanwhile, as Matthew strategically retreated, Germany kept up his fighting in the warehouse. Russia turned in an attempt to pursue Canada and found his ass quickly tripped and floored. Germany slammed his tired but frantic self onto him as he listened to Canada's swiftly quieting footfalls over their strained grunts.

Once it was clear Canada had left the area an angry roar issued from Russia, something to the tune of "тебе пиздец!" basically meaning "You are fucked!". Germany was indeed strong, but Russia was strong and had a major size difference. Russia reached back, grabbing Germany's slicked-back hair and yanking a fair handful of it out. As that was attempted, Germany punched the back of Russia's head repeatedly to no avail. There was a guttural roar as Russia thrust himself off the ground and fell back onto Germany, which wouldn't have been terribly effective if Germany hadn't smacked his head into the concrete of the floor.

The blow temporarily dazing the smaller nation, Russia stood up and added an injury to his mere insult. A kick to his temple had stars dancing before Germany's eyes before he being forcefully rolled to his side by a sudden pipe to his ribs. Loud cracks along with some highly amused giggling filled the room as the pipe was swung in again with a golfer's efficiency to Germany's now exposed back. Another loud crack and a truly pained scream rang out with more giggles.

"Господин Германия," Russia lightly tapped Germany's tear-stained (and now bleeding) face as he rolled over to lay on his stomach, feeling the full brunt of his broken ribs. "Yoo know, yoo're kind of cude like thees." Russia giggled and beat the pipe into Germany's side again. The pained sound was like music to his very experienced ears. He hadn't heard such wonderful screams since, well, East Germany lived with him.

"Lutsch mein Schwanz!" Germany coughed up some blood from his damaged lungs, having to labor himself in order to breathe; hopefully his lungs would heal soon.

"Eesn't dat Eetaly's job?" Russia taunted, a very angry glare being shot at him from the ground and quickly being wiped away with another strike from the pipe. This time to the back of Germany's unprotected right knee. Oh, listen to that sweet, sweet music again, breaking knees always brought such wonderful notes out of the human mouth. "Or maybe… Canada's?" Germany's fists balled-up, trying to force himself up only to be thwarted yet again with a hit to his wrist. "Yoo know dat Kaliningrad von't be heppy aboud dat, da?"

Russia's wording was more what caught him off guard than his irritating quips.

"Dit you jus' call him Kaliningrad?"

"Uh-huh! I'm not surprised yoo nefer noteeced." Russia laughed as Germany slowly pulled together the pieces of his pain-scattered mind as well as the pieces of the riddle that was Prussia as of late.

"Our bosses… Prussia vants intepentance from you… Doesn'd he?" The blonde on the floor hissed at him. The unmasked look of malcontent he received from Russia told all that needed to be said, "He's a nation again…"

"And mine!" The pipe came down onto Germany's shoulder, a sickening crunch signifying the comminuted greater tubercle of his humerus and his left scapula. "My propertee!" A crack to Germany's hip, "Vhere are dey!"

"Fahr zur Hölle!" Rather than hitting Germany again with his pipe, Russia squatted down by him and lifted up one of his arms.

"Dis ees me asking nicely." He yanked on the crushed and dislocated arm, twisting slowly at the same time. Germany managed to staunch his cries but only to a point, when Russia twisted again and effortlessly snapped the appendage over his knee he wore his throat as raw as Prussia's had been. "Eemageen how many of your people are dying now because yoo von't tell me." Another twist and Germany bit his tongue against it. "Vhere are dey and your people can live." A hard yank to punctuate the stressed syllable.

"Fick dich." Enraged, Russia jumped to his feet, snatching up his pipe and delivered a blow to the middle of Germany's back. Blood flew from Germany's mouth as he screamed, feeling leaving the lower half of his body before his world went black.

Russia mumbled something underneath his breath in his own tongue and took his cell phone out, dialing a number before holding it to his ear.

"Hello Stoughton, vhere are dey?" Russia asked in his most amicable voice he could manage as he contemplated what to do with Germany who was bleeding quite ghoulishly onto the floor from his mouth. As his conversation with a one Doctor Stoughton commenced, he didn't notice the subtle buzzing in Germany's pocket.

()()()

"Ve…" Feliciano sighed, Ludwig had said he was going to be back last night and he still wasn't picking up his phone. The news wasn't really boding well either, apparently Germany was being bombed so something was definitely up… C'mon he's a little bit dense, don't be too hard on him.

Then again, maybe it wasn't his business… They were supposed to be taking a break from each other… Every time he got the big man's voicemail though he felt his heart sink a little bit further to the floor. Calling Canada had yielded no results and calling Gilbert was the same. He had to tell Germany he had a terrible dream about him and Russia and needed someone to talk to about it. Now he had this awful feeling churning in the pit of his stomach and he grew more and more worried as he kept redialing the beloved number.

Somebody was beating on his friend unbeknownst to most of Europe. Perhaps Francis was blundering about by now trying to find some way to aid Ludwig personally. French troops had a presence, but it would do little good if Francis didn't know where Ludwig's body was.

Finally not able to contain himself anymore he dialed a different number.

"Veeee… America? It's Italy, I'm afraid something has happened to what's-his-name and Germany, oh, and Prussia!"

"What? Why?"

"None of them are picking up their phones! Oh, and Germany is being bombed by someone!" Italy exclaimed to his somewhat distant friend.

"What?"

"Y-Yes! I called Germany at least twenty and What's-his-name seven! Prussia about the same! I even left voice-mails!"

"And they still haven't called back?" America's voice was starting to sound concerned, "Everyone knows it's urgent if you actually leave a voicemail!"

"I know! And-And! I had a really bad dream about Russia and Germany last night! But! He was with Canada then!" Silence for about five seconds.

"Hang on for a moment." America bid and the small Italian, switching lines to dial up England.

"Wot you want?" England growled at America.

"Where's Russia?" Alfred asked his father and the Englishman sighed.

"'Ow would I know again?"

"Don't you have spies over there old man?"

"Maybe…"

"So… Where is he?" Some grumbling reached America's ears from over the phone and after a couple seconds of silence the phone was brought back to England's ear.

"Er… Not at home apparently…"

"He's invading Canada…"

"Wot? 'Ow do you know?"

"Italy told me."

"Well 'oo told 'im?"

"Germany is being bombed as we speak."

"Shit, that's wot the damn frog was goin' on about. You know wot t' do." The line went dead and America switched back to Italy.

"Bad news, we have reason to believe that the one bombing Germany is Russia and he is now currently invading Canada." America informed the smaller man on the line. "We've already rehearsed this Italy, you know what we need to do."

"B-But!"

"No buts! Every hero needs support and you're part of that! Hurry up!" America hung up on Italy and the man was left sniffling on his own. Germany was hurting somewhere and he couldn't help him yet… All the more reason to get his ass in gear. All he had ever done was disappoint Germany and this time… If Germany would allow it of course, he was going to make him proud!

()()()

Back in Canada, said country was hauling ass through the dark woods, Prussia had passed out at some time during the run. It was a straight mad-dash through the undergrowth to the hidden house, him being able to swear Russia was on his heels the whole time.

For the second time that day, Canada burst into his house, nearly tripping over that damned bear!

"Can you be in a worse place at a worse time?" The blonde yelled at the bear, slamming the door and depositing Gilbert on the couch in the room. Not waiting to hear what the bear had to say for himself, he took out a screw-gun and some two-by-fours, fastening the door into place along with plywooding the windows. Figuring this room to be a bad place to hide Prussia, Canada finished up boarding the windows and securing the entrances to take Prussia to a better room. Picking him up again and going to the back closet in the reading room, he pried up the sealed cellar door in the floor there. Before carrying him down, he tossed a few couch pillows and blankets down into the dark, dank area.

He laid Prussia down on the make-shift bed and pulled a thin string above his head, illuminating the room with a single light-bulb. Lining the walls of this room were various stored cans, bottles of alcohol and replacement pots, pans, bowls, any kind of kitchenware needed. Things tended to break easily in his household even before Gilbert was around.

Speaking of whom, even in sleep he wasn't calm, he twitched and his face curled up in anguish, what the hell was going on in there? If only he could read minds.

"Gil… Even if you really don't love me…" Matthew shifted and the rings in his pocket clinked together, "Which I know you do… I still love you." I think. "And I want you to come back. I want you to see me beating Russia's sorry behind all the way back to his frozen wasteland." Anger suddenly creased the already sweating and worried brow, "And if you aren't there anymore… If you are just Prussia… I hate you, I want you to get the hell out of my house when you wake up, but know I am still defending you from that sadistic sonuvabitch! The only person allowed to make your life miserable is me! You've made the last few weeks of my life the very definition of hell! I am not a vengeful person, I don't even curse on a regular basis and look what you have done to me! You are the single worst thing to ever happened to me since learning how to speak!" At what point had Matthew began to cry? He hadn't noticed until a sob stopped his angered words in their tracks. He wept for many things, but mostly he wept for the pure unadulterated rage he was feeling. Wishing for the blissful unawareness of before he had no one other than Kumajirou.

Love brings with it many joys and the greatest feeling a man or woman can ever know, but it also has the side that hurts. Love is a continuing cycle of hurting and healing and the bad parts are often thought of most. A single bad deed in love obscures a thousand good things as it is always wont in the world… "Noding.Vord hafing. Comes. Easily!" Ludwig's words taken from Gilbert's mouth echoed in the reaches of his mind. The both of them were right and Matthew found himself chuckling in spite of himself and this whole goddamn situation.

"Still… Prussia, I need you in my life if Gilbert's not going to be here. You always have liked pranks anyway, we can have fun getting back at each other." He paused for a second and sucked on his tongue in thought, "We can always hate Russia together." An unsettling prickling set into Matthew's being then, Russia was nearby and somehow had his location by how quickly he was approaching. "I'll give him hell for you." Matthew chastely pressed a kiss to the once-nation's forehead and climbed out of the hole, turning off the light as he did. He closed the door, put the rug back over it and shut the closet.

What now? Oh right, more barricading. He headed into his kitchen, putting several dangerous utensils into easy access positions in case it came to that. Next he flipped the table onto its side and moved the couch away from the wall in case cover was needed. Other than that, there wasn't a lot he could do that wouldn't hinder his own movement through the house.

Deep calming breaths were what was needed now as he pulled out his high-powered rifle from earlier. The worst part about all this really? The waiting. Russia knew where he was miraculously enough, and yet, he was not upon him. Why wasn't a window or a door being torn apart by the swing of a lead pipe or an axe? Was he just trying to get in his head? Drive him mad with his already prevalent exhaustion and the waiting! Why couldn't they just bloody get it over with already?

A surprised yelp came from Canada when there was a loud smack to the front door. No more waiting apparently…

"I know you're een dere!" Russia taunted from the other side of the door, blowing the wood to splinters with a loud explosion outside, Canada probably should have figured that Russia carried an arsenal on him today.

Bracing his rifle barrel on the back of the couch, Canada took his spot, watching closely for any sign of Russia stepping into the house in the darkness. Canada almost patted himself on the back for forgetting to turn on any of the lights in the three AM darkness; if Canada would have trouble seeing him from his better vantage point, Russia would be hopeless.

Suddenly, a blinding light filled the room, a flare having been thrown in to rest on the carpet. What didn't this BAMF bring with him? Enough debating that though as Russia strolled in and saw Canada. The light of the flare cast eerie shadows across the grinning, pudgy face, making his eyes glimmer even brighter with his obvious mix of excitement and fury.

An un-aimed shot was fired from the somewhat large gun and of course it missed as Russia darted across the room for the Canadian. As it turned out, this was meant to be a close-quartered fight, such large weapons were hereto going to be useless in this enclosed space. To prevent Russia from using one of his own guns against him, as he had done in the warehouse, Canada stuffed the rifle back into his coat. A knife was brought out quickly however as Russia crashed down onto him. A flurry of fists flew through the air, both pairs hungry for soft, unmarred flesh of their enemy.

Amid this, Canada intentionally busted his head into Russia's, temporarily stunning them both. Canada being the one to recover first, shoved Russia off his body before punching him across the face, knife in hand and hence cutting a deep, bloody gash into his cheek.

Russia grabbed Canada's wrist and snapped it as easily as he would a twig, the pain lancing up the blonde's arm as he dropped the knife. He was thrown off him and into the next room as Russia picked up the knife and ran his tongue over the cut in his mouth. It was a little disgusting when the pink muscle poked through the hole and more than a little enraging.

When Russia stood Canada had long gotten to his feet, ignoring the throb of his wrist as he drew a significantly smaller weapon, the trusty handgun. That was when Russia's favorite implement of torture was brought out, his pipe. He advanced on Canada, the blonde backpedaling into the kitchen

"Yoo reeally dink dat yoo hev de balls to fire dat at me?" The bigger man took a step forward.

"Wanna b-" As Canada was distracted with a comeback, the pipe crushed his fingers and sent the gun flying; he dropped to his knees, holding his hand.

"Leetle less conversation!" Russia giggled, swinging his pipe again and connecting it with Canada's already injured right arm, Canada crying out as his left side made love to the floor. Russia stalked forward, raising his pipe and getting a knife stabbed into his calf by a handful of crushed fingers. He verbally protested to the pain and took a blind swing at Canada that easily avoided it as he slid around to Russia's rear. Gripping the knife with his left hand, Canada tore down through the thick muscle before ripping it out, totally severing Russia's Achilles tendon. Underneath the cover of the pantleg, a loud pop was heard just as the tendon bunched up tightly and painfully to the gastrocnemius muscles. Russia furiously swung his pipe, Canada evading the blow once more, but with more difficulty. Least this way if it ever came to running, Russia's left leg would be near useless.

Making his way to the other side of the kitchen and furiously groping for wherever his gun had been sent, he found it as the big man got over the hurt in his leg. Many noises of a non-existential language were barked at Canada as he rose his good hand. Not used to firing anymore, Canada flinched when Russia made move to lunge at him (his left leg nearly tripping him as it was not up to the task). The bullet fired buried itself in the enemy's hip.

"Хуесос!" The Russian yelled, Canada fired again, the kickback making him further unsteady. All in all he squeezed off four rounds into Russia's now dramatically bleeding body before snatching up another knife from behind the overturned table and hopping to his feet. The adrenaline blocking out all his pain, Canada dodged a wild swing at him and stabbed a carving knife deep into the paunchy stomach and twisted. It seemed to not affect Russia at all (other more painful things had his brain's attention) and Canada found himself meeting the floor again when a fist said "hello" to his face. The force of the blow was powerful enough to swing Canada around a complete 180 degrees.

Pitifully, he crawled out of the kitchen towards the reading room in some futile attempt at escape. Though Russia's Achilles tendon was snapped and he had a limp to his gait, he was more than capable keeping up with the sorry creature.

Not wanting to show his unprotected back to Russia for long, Canada flipped himself back around to see his attacker. Fearfully backing away as Russia walked to stand over him, he was left to lay helpless between the man's legs. "Vhy do yoo vant to save dat vordless ding anyvay?" Russia asked, genuinely curious, spitting out some blood that had come up from his stomach and pooled in his mouth, "After vhat he has done to yoo." he commented, motioning to the remains of the damage on him that he had not caused. "Plus, he's… Veak. Dead…"

"He's a better person than you could dream of being." Canada answered honestly, eliciting a laugh from Russia above him. The blood on his teeth, the way it sloshed from his mouth as he laughed, the true visage of the word "deranged". It was surreal alright and surprising that Russia was still on his feet, still had the advantage over Canada despite the bullets buried somewhere in his corded muscles and the guts near about to spill from their place inside their meatsuit.

"And dat makes heem vordy of lifing? Sorry to tell yoo Mattie, but de vorld ees survival of de feettest, da? De best at surviving are alvays dose dat do not care. Prussia vas peerless vhen he vas young. Den hees leetle broder came een and den eventually made heem obsoleete." Sadly, Russia had a point there, "Allies, I'm not saying dey don't hev mereets. Just certeen allies are better dan oders."

By the end of his little monologue, Canada's eyes were wide with disbelief and… Hope? Confused, Russia looked over his shoulder to get an eyeful of a Jack Daniel's bottle before it shattered, all the strongly-scented liquid splattering on the wall. As Russia was blinded, Canada struggled out from underneath him, taking the helping, outstretched hand offered to him.

"Yo Matt." Prussia greeted him, thrusting the smaller blonde back behind him protectively. In Prussia's one hand was the jagged remains of the whisky bottle neck, in his other was a can of tomatoes. At first glance, the second might have seemed like an unlikely weapon, but those things were heavy as shit!

Prussia chucked the can at Russia who had turned his alcohol-irritated reddened eyes on them and now had the definite makings of an even blacker eye. Pure rage flowing through his veins at this point, Russia lunged for Prussia, getting a clean swipe of glass across his face, splitting his already marred skin. It did little to dissuade him from continuing attacking and Prussia had to push Canada back as he took a step in retreat.

"Chrisd!" He yelled, next stabbing for Russia's neck and nicking it, blood beginning to flow down his neck and join the stain on his coat caused by the blood dripping from his face.

"Vhy do yoo hate me so Kaliningrad?" The big nation seemed to lament, swinging his pipe at them and missing both times.

"Vas I not good enough for yoo? Vas I nod nice! Letting yoo stay een my house vhile your broder vas straighteened out? Deed I not pleease yoo by only fucking yoo?" Finally having backed Prussia and Canada into a corner, Prussia responed.

"You can goh drough de motions of lof, bud if dere ist noding dere bud cruelty, how cahn you efer be goot enough for anyvon?" The pipe was brought up above their heads and was ready to be sent down if not for the sudden rush of noise and people upon Russia.

America, England, Austria, France, Spain, Japan and both Italys crashed down on him. Japan had his katana fixed at Russia's throat where everyone else had grabbed an appendage and held on tight. The Italys just sat on his back, but they were helping in their own way.

Prussia blinked in confusion as all the other nations in the room yelled various things to each other while Russia struggled for freedom. The strain of his muscles gushed his blood from the various openings on his body, making a dark pool of blood spread on the blonde wood.

"Get off of me!" Russia yelled, somehow or another forcing himself up to his feet and knocking them all away. Guns clicked and all fixed themselves on Russia who could not have looked any more frustrated or defeated than he did at that moment. Drenched in his own blood, guts trying to escape through the hole in his stomach, face betraying the darkness under his usually unassuming disguise… The violet eyes flicked to Prussia, the broken whiskey bottle still held up in defense of the Canadian standing just behind him. "Traitor." he hissed, bowling his way through the crowd before fleeing the house.

America, England and France all pursued him, leaving Spain, Romano, Italy and Austria the ones in attendance. From behind Prussia there was the sound of a released breath and a thump as Matthew slid to the floor.

"What's-your-name!" Feliciano called, running over to aid him and being pushed back by Prussia. "Pru! Let me by! I need to see if he's okay!" Feliciano tried to weasel past and in the end being yanked back by Lovino.

"Coult you all… Erhm… Leaf for a momend?" Prussia asked, the four conceding to his request, but not without a snarky glance from Roderich. As bad a time as it was for this conversation… They really should have been celebrating, Prussia wanted to dedicate some time to the poor man on the floor behind him. Turning around to look down at Matthew, he dropped down to the floor himself, staring at the injured beauty before him. "Matt?"

The Canadian lifted his head to regard Prussia and smiled a little, "We won… If there was something to win." Prussia nodded and looked to Matthew's wrist.

"Cahn I zee id?" The request came as somewhat of a surprise to Matthew…

"Gilbert?" he asked timidly, a quaver in his voice saying he was going to break down into tears no matter what the albino said.

"Ja." Despite the broken wrist and crushed fingers, Matthew threw his arms around him, burying his face into the sullied clothes of Gilbert. Sobs wracked his body and Gilbert ran his fingers up and down his little lover's back, not speaking. There was a fuck lot they had to talk about and the least he could give his beloved was a chance to just be relieved and cry.

He lightly kissed the crown of Matthew's head and the Canadian reached up, pulling Gilbert's face down more to kiss him back. For that instant, things were okay again. None of the terrible things that had passed in the last few weeks had ever happened… Then the kiss ended and their eyes met. "I lof you, please forgif me…"

Matthew couldn't answer yet, he was still speechless at his luck and just wanted to stay in the position they were in forever.

"I neet an answer zometime…" Gilbert tried to prod, putting on a façade of irritation.

"I love you too." But Matthew never answered the second half. No, that would take building up to, regardless of how much Gilbert wasn't Prussia.

According to the rest of the people present in the house, "a moment" only lasted until two parties could say they loved each other, because all of them simultaneously filled the room again.

"Mattie, are you okay?" Alfred bounded over to them, stopped short by Kiku grabbing his arm and wrenching him back to stand next to him. Gilbert stood then, helping Matthew to his feet while his still badly injured (and, by the help of Feliciano, quickly healing) brother wheeled himself into the room. The nations present probably had him stashed somewhere to prevent further injury, but being as stubborn as he was, he wanted to be present for Russia's defeat.

The albino caught sight of the wrecked being and tears worked at his eyes where everyone else's were on him.

"We would very much enjoy an explanation, Gilbert…" Antonio broke the uncomfortable silence (probably never having felt it himself) and Gilbert returned his attention to everyone in the room.

"Oh… Er… Hallo… Ef'ryvon… I dink I definidly do hef zome explaining to do… Uh…" Gilbert of all people being at a loss for words was indeed the sight of the century. "Vhere to begin…?" He looked back to Matt and everything seemed to become clear. "For de longesd time now… Ahll of you zeemt to dink dat I vas deat. Hell, I doughd I vas deat. Bud, you know, I'm jus' fuckin' awezome und coultn't jus' schtay like dat!"

"Cut th' crap an' get on with it!" Arthur cut in, getting a face from the dramatic man.

"Fine. I'm alife again." The air in the room went stale for a second, everyone just staring at him utterly dumbfounded (save for Ludwig who had obviously seen it coming). "Vell don'd you ahll ged zoh excided und jump for joy ahd vonce!" Gilbert snorted and got a very meek question of "how?" from Matthew. He looked back to him and then to the group. "Kaliningrad Oblast… De lant dat has no represendadif because id vas gifen up by de von connecdet to id. Undil fery recendly. Officially pard of Russia, und today? Ids own nation because of de people in dis room." The crickets outside chirping were oddly befitting of the situation as still no one really had anything to say. Except for America, when did he ever not have something to say?

"So… We've all been callin' ya by the wrong name for how long?" Alfred dumbly asked and Gilbert sighed, irritated that he had to explain it to these people at all.

"De poind ist! I ahm alife again, ahm independend und matly in lof vid dis awesome man schtanting nexd to me now!" Gilbert threw an arm around Matthew's shoulders and pulled him in to kiss his cheek. Alfred made a really annoyed noise, Kiku stopping him from taking any kind of action against this with a slap of his katana hilt against his chest. Everyone else just settled for a simple "awwww". While Matt blushed, Gilbert's hand slipped into his coat, extricating the rings. "Und by de vay!" He dropped down to one knee and held one of the tungsten bands out to Matthew as everyone else now looked both awed and surprised.

Roderich was near about catching flies in his mouth it was open so wide. Feliciano squealed with delight and bounced all over the place (even over to Ludwig as in pain as he was). Lovino tried to calm him down (in his usual rude fashion) and Antonio made a happy whooping noise with Francis (who was discreetly holding hands with Arthur).

"Marry me Maddhew?" Gilbert posed hopefully. The blonde seemed to waver a little bit, appearing as though he were going to say no. Yes, this was a highly inappropriate time for this after such terrible circumstances, but Gilbert never really seemed to think straight about anything. "Please… De lasd few veeks asite, you make me de happiesd I'fe efer been und vhat happent vill nefer happen again." What was with this group and long awkward silences? None of them could really ever think about when in the world it had ever been so awkward between all of them at once.

"How do you know?" Matthew finally said skeptically, averting his eyes from everyone in the room.

"Id vas broughd on by my being broughd back to being a nation. Do you realize how confusing id ist to be deat and come back to life?" Well… Matthew supposed that he really didn't and he still did love Gilbert more than any man in the world. The trust might have to be reworked, but he was taking back every bad thing he ever said about Gilbert in his absence as the milliseconds ticked by.

Am I really so fickle? Matthew questioned himself, going over in his head the million reasons why this would be so bad to agree to. However, it only took one thing to make him realize that these reasons didn't matter, "Yes." He said at long last, getting a bewildered look from Gilbert.

"You know vhat id's like being broughd back to life?"

"No! Yes to marrying you you loveable dolt!" Matthew laughed, a wide grin spreading from ear-to-ear on Gilbert, he taking Matt's pristine (if not bloodstained) left hand and slipping the ring onto the correct finger. A perfect fit.

"I love weddings! Drinks all around!" Francis cheered, no one seeming willing to join him as Matthew and Gilbert were now feverishly sucking face. It was growing increasingly obvious that neither of them would be able to do anything until they got this out of the way. So, staving off the awkwardness, people all filed out quietly, leaving the two to do as they needed. Not all quietly per se, Alfred was being dragged kicking and caterwauling out the door by his husband. It was quiet after he had left the building though.

What had started as kissing down in the foyer of the home ended in Gilbert picking up his hurt (in many varying ways) lover and carrying him up to their bedroom. He then laid him gently down and kissed his jaw and neck sweetly, as if every inch of his flesh were a blessing to this world. Gilbert climbed over him, very careful of the hurt wrist before looking into the blue eyes of Matthew and kissing him again. His fingers ran through his blonde locks as Gilbert took off his shirt himself before helping Matthew out of his. Next, off came their pants, leaving both of them exposed completely to one another; all of Gilbert's scars (new and old), all of Matt's bruises (fresh and fading). Nothing to hide.

The love-making was slow and sincere, there would be many times after this for it just to be rough with need. Gilbert just had to show Matthew what he meant again, it was their first time all over and he wasn't going to fuck it up this time either. To be honest, Gilbert could have gotten off on the faces Matt was making alone. Buried deep in the back of Prussia's mind, he had sorely missed the wonderful faces Matthew was capable of making. And because he could have orgasmed from the faces alone, he turned his face skyward and hailed a God he had never met for this wonderful gift to him.

He heard and felt Matthew come beneath him with a high and contented squeal allowing himself to open his eyes to see Matthew's moment of bliss; forcing him to his own climax at such a sight. Not wanting to ruin the perfection of their communion with anything vulgar, Gilbert didn't speak after, he snuggled into Matthew's hair and they lay in comfortable silence. No words were needed in this warm place the two of them were, their actions saying all "I love you".

()()()

As much as it would like to have been said that the "morning" after was just as awesome as the night before, it wasn't to be so. Gilbert got up that afternoon, his cell phone ringing and waking Matthew up as well.

Gilbert answered the phone and quickly found out it was his boss, they needed to have a meeting back in Kaliningrad Oblast (newly re-named East Prussia after their victory over Russia).

"I hef to goh." Gilbert informed his very groggy Matthew, it was about three in the afternoon and his new boss now needed to discuss matters with him that the "troops" were out celebrating.

"Meeting with your boss?"

"Yes." Gilbert smiled, "I hef one now." Matthew smiled back to him, sort of understanding the man's happiness at having a superior again, no matter how annoying he would probably be in the end.

"When will you be back?" he asked, not actually approving of Gilbert's already leaving him after a consummation like that.

"Ihn time to fuck your brains oud tonighd." Gilbert happily declared, leaning down to kiss Matthew's temple. He stood and found some clothes for himself and as he did that, Matthew's thoughts wandered. Were things back to normal? Just business as usual? Were they supposed to never speak of what happened again or was it open for discussion? He supposed he was going to have to ask Gilbert that after he got home tonight. That and a lot of other things… His eyes had fallen on the glimmering ring that matched the one on Gilbert's left hand

"I vill zee you tonighd." Gilbert said with a smile, leaning down, kissing Matthew goodbye.

"Same here." Matthew agreed and the man was off… Not before locating the keys Matthew had haphazardly dropped somewhere while hauling his unconscious ass into the house earlier that day.

()()()

The meeting was long and boring as Gilbert had suspected it would be. It was mostly concerning citizenship. If you claimed Prussian heritage (being able to prove it of course) and wished to come to this nation, it would be granted. Of course it was lined up for all those faithfuls in Germany in that small town Gilbert had his home in to be admitted as citizens as they had been his soldiers (more like a very impromptu militia). Renaming everything in the country was crucial now too. The capital had been renamed Königsberg as it had been called long ago as Kaliningrad Oblast had been renamed its proper name. Plus, Gilbert at least got to keep his nation name of Prussia somehow with that name. Of course people would have probably called him Prussia anyway as nobody ever seemed too keen on calling him anything but. They recognized his greatness even when he wasn't so.

Long meeting short it was all legal shit and talking about how to organize the nation. Small amounts of troops from nearly every nation that had been present at Canada's house were everywhere and were now starting to filter out (save for the nosey Americans and the helpful Germans). Mostly filtering out as they now needed to provide aid to Germany's extensive injuries. There was always the question of what would happen if Russia ever wanted the land back, but they knew they had allies in great places.

It was getting late when Prussia felt a vibrating in his pocket. Yawning from exhaustion, he pulled the vibrating phone from his pants and saw the name "Catherine"… Groaning that he had to erase that confusing mistake at earliest convenience. Figuring he could at least humor the whore, he flipped the phone open and read the message therein.

"We /need/ to talk." It read and he growled angrily, this was going to have to be righted and soon if nature wasn't going to take its course and kill her. Thinking for a second he typed in Matthew's usual address in Ottawa and after put "Wednesday, five P.M. if you're late, too bad". The reply he got was oddly concise and just "Okay". Gilbert sniggered to himself imagining the face she would have when she found out the situation he was in with Matthew.

"What's so funny?" His boss asked him at the behavior.

"Nothing, nothing, back to citizenship." The meeting still wasn't over by the way.

()()()

Gilbert arrived back at Matthew's house in Jasper National Park at around three in the morning there. Matthew must've spent the whole day cleaning because there wasn't a speck of blood left to be seen on the walls floor or otherwise. The door, of course, hadn't been fixed yet, but spring was strongly upon them anyway, some beads just hung in the doorway as a calm breeze blew through the house. Everything would have seemed normal and idyllic if Matthew's wrist wasn't splinted and face swollen.

"Hey." The blonde greeted, shoving a last back of garbage into the kitchen, he showed no actual happiness to have Gilbert in the house.

"Zomeding wrong?" Gilbert asked, the wind caressing his back and producing a rain-like noise when the wood beads of the hanging behind him clinked together.

"We need to talk." Did he just think he was going to ignore the whole "Gah" that had just been their life?

"Ja, ve do." Matthew looked surprised that Gilbert actually wanted to talk about it, but then looked disappointed in himself. "Vhat?"

"It's nothing…" he looked focused on something else now and Gilbert felt the distance between them. Distance created by Prussia. They had been close to attached at the pelvises, hands, lips and souls before this mess and now look where they were, miles apart.

"Noh, id ist zomeding." Taking a few steps forward, Gilbert held out his hands to Matthew to take, which the blonde did, though gingerly. "Ve hef a lod to talk aboud." He pulled his lover close and gave him a sweet kiss. Under normal circumstances, Gilbert would be disgusting himself with how sweet he was, but this was one of the few times his hidden gentleness was not only warranted, but needed.

"Was all this my fault?" Matthew mumbled into Gilbert's coat.

"Noh, jus' coincidental wrong question ahd de wrong time." Gilbert moved them to the bloodstained couch in the room and sat down, both of them getting comfortable in one another's arms. "Blame dose guys vhere I lif." he chuckled a little.

"The ones that really don't like Ludwig now?" Oh shit, Matthew was going to try to leave out talking about Germany, but it had to be done sometime, so why not now? Rather than answering Matthew's question, Gilbert did exactly what he had feared he would.

"Vhy?" Gilbert quietly asked, no actual explanation for exactly why what…

"I don't know… It just… It happened." More than likely, Gilbert was only referring to Ludwig's attempt at sucking him off, not them having sex. And really, it had been the one thing that truly confused the Prussian man. Through meeting after meeting, after meeting, after meeting it was the single most bothering question that wore away at his sanity. Gilbert knew that after his horrid behavior that Matthew deserved something just... It gnawed at his gut that he didn't have the whole story. That something far worse than that had happened between them. It only made his heart sink even further when Matthew continued. "And… It happened again… Just…" The blonde couldn't finish and the noise Gilbert made had his stomach clenching. His fiancé was far from stupid and his abnormally obscene mind jumped to conclusions, ones Matt wished he could say were wildly outrageous and stupid. Too bad he couldn't.

"I'm nod mad… I'm nod." Oh yes Gilbert was, but more at West than anyone else. "If you promise me… Id vill nefer happen again I vill take your vort for id und ve cahn moof on vid our lifes…" He was never good with moving on with something like this in all actuality. Being a man that was always someone's last in love or in sex he had never had to deal with someone being stolen away from him. Sure, Austria and he fighting over whose right it was to raise Germany was one thing, this was another. All of his problems always seemed to stem from that little, bleeding creature whose life he saved and nurtured all those years ago... Anyway, this was something that would always burn in his gut, he knew he shouldn't feel betrayed by either of them, but it didn't stop him from feeling that way. It would be locked away in the back of his mind as a sight he would forever wish to unsee, the one memory he wish his mind would let go of permanently... Never again would he be able to see Matthew the same.

"It was a mistake." Matthew told him, "Never again." he felt like he needed to add something else, "I promise." Matthew on the other hand, felt this was all going too well. It was too easy to gain Gilbert's forgiveness, somewhere he felt that his would-be spouse hated him...

"Goot, nexd subjecd." It almost annoyed the Canadian how eager he was to move along. He wasn't going to complain, however, not when the wounds were still so fresh, "De men ihn de town in West's lant ahre Prussian loyalists lifing vidin Germany." Gilbert informed him, "If dey hadet Westen den dey ahre a bid too loyal, or jus' schtupit."

"No offense but I think-"

"De latter ist more likely?" Gilbert finished for him and smiled, Matthew chuckling at how easy it had been for him. Of all the stupid little inanities that marked their relationship, Matthew figured the one he missed the most was their constant completing of each other's sentences. As annoying as everyone else in the world thought it was, he always had thought it was cute. They had done it while they were just friends as well and now they more often than not knew what the other was thinking not just saying. It was proving right the theory that intimate others most often mirrored each others speaking styles.

"Yeah." They kissed, Gilbert peppering Matthew's face with more of them.

"Zoh! I vas dinking, how aboud an early Fall vedding?" The albino quirked his eyebrows at his future husband and Matthew made a face suggesting deep thought.

"I more liked the idea of a spring wedding." The clueless look on Gilbert's face was as cute as Matthew remembered it being.

"Bud I don'd vant to vaid a year!" he stridently complained.

"Gilbert!" Matthew shut him up right quick before Gilbert could go off into something rather unmanly, "Gilbert… What is the season right now?"

The albino thought for a second, "Schpring?"

"Yeah, aaaaand?" It took the Prussian a moment to connect the dots and in the end, happy recognition lit up over his face. "It's not like I want some big extravagant wedding. We can pull one off before Spring is over."

"Agreet!" Their lips were glued together again and joyful hands began to roam. Too bad they hadn't finished their talk yet, but they figured it could wait for a few minutes… Or an hour.

()()()

By Tuesday the house out in Jasper had been all cleaned and their items moved back to the comfy home in Ottawa. Things had been going smoothly the past few days (except for the bear that chose to make itself known down in the kitchen Monday night, they had no door after all…); Gilbert left in the morning to attend to nation business but always managed to return at night to be with Matt.

Once Wednesday rolled around, Gilbert managed to wriggle his way out of work at around three and made it back to his love's home by four. The announcement he carried with him of the whore's coming to visit didn't amuse Matthew in the slightest.

"I dink you ahre failing to zee de poind hier. I'fe hat sex vid her twice und she's schtill nod deat." Gilbert attempted to get Matthew to understand. Rather than respond, Matthew stalked from the room, "Vaid! She'll leaf us alone vonce ve talk!"

"You're a nation! Nobody but your boss can make you do something you don't want to do! If you really didn't want to see her, you wouldn't have answered that text!"

"Ahren'd you jus' de leasd bid curious?"

"Admittedly, yes, but just… God, whatever." Matthew headed into the kitchen to make an early dinner for them.

Which, during said dinner, five o'clock rolled around and there was a knock at the door. Gilbert pushed the plate of food away and stood, beckoning Matthew after him. Begrudgingly, Matthew obliged and followed him out into the entrance hall, standing just behind him as the door was opened.

The woman's striking looks caught even Matthew off guard, there was no denying that she was truly beautiful. And undeniably the slightest bit familiar…

"Come ihn." Gilbert smiled nastily at her and she took a few tentative steps in. "Nice to zee you Caderine." Judging by Gilbert's expression and the man standing at his shoulder, the rings they both wore that had not been there a few days ago, she had just walked in on an otherwise happy couple.

"Hello Gilbert…" Catherine looked to Matthew, "Hello, uhm… I'm-"

"Catherine, I know." Politely, Matthew held out his hand to her and they shook briefly.

"Gilbert and I have some… Pressing matters to discuss…" Her piercing blue gaze fell back on Gilbert and now that he had the ability to compare eyes, what he saw shook him to the core.

"Excuse me for a second miss, have we ever met before?" Matthew asked, Catherine looking him up and down for a second or two.

"I don't think so."

"I must be imagining things then." An eerie sinking feeling settled into Gilbert's stomach at the exchange and he felt like he was missing some crucial piece of the puzzle here. "Well, actually… What's your last name?"

"Leveque." An awful look came over Matthew's face then, not awful as in horrified, just a look of grim, intense surprise.

"Vhat's wrong Madd?" Gilbert asked, eyes flicking between the now very confused Catherine and despondent Matthew.

Inside his blonde head though, Matthew was yelling at himself. A million questions being risen, "How old are you?" Matthew asked next, getting a terribly offended look from Catherine.

"I beg your pardon!"

"Just answer him." Gilbert sighed, wanting to quickly know just what the hell had Matthew so spooked.

"Thirty…" Her eyes shifted suspiciously around as Gilbert moved to usher then both into the living room of the home across from the kitchen.

"How old is your mother?" Matthew pleaded.

"She died when I was seventeen…"

"Of!" He was growing more frantic, his heart hammering away in his chest like a hummingbird's.

"Heart failure! Calm down you're starting to freak me out here!"

"How old was she when you were born?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"How old?"

"She was almost twenty-seven…" Now the look on Matthew's face was of sheer terror, Gilbert just looked so confused. Quickly he sped back through his memories to see what significance was held fifty-six years ago. It must've been locked within the details of speech because Gilbert found nothing historically useful. "Look, you're really freaky, I just came here to talk to Gilbert, can I, please?" Jerkily and still unsure, Matthew nodded, beginning to inch away from them, tears welling up in his eyes.

Pretty sure that Matthew was checked out in his own mind, Catherine tossed something to Gilbert. Now, at first it looked like some sort of plastic wand with a pink plus-sign on it in this tiny window thing and it confused him for a second. After his brain had time to let the gears turn he found himself in much the same state that Matthew was in now. Blank and empty, nothing on his body moved, even his heart seemed to stop, skipping a beat.

"No condom honey… Babies tend to happen." Matthew's head lifted minutely at this statement, color draining from his face. No…

"Bud… Bud dat vas only a few days ago! Dis hast to be a fa-"

"Our first time! I thought my period was late the day you came to see me the second time… I panicked and bought a test… Okay, ten tests… They all said the same thing." Gilbert dropped the pregnancy test to the floor and Matthew had risen his head up a few more inches to regard them both in utter horror. His skin tone about a shade whiter than Gilbert's.

"I… I…"

"Gilbert… I like you… I do…" Her hand snaked off her lap and laid over his frozen fingers, Matthew so wrapped up in his own horror and grief that he couldn't react. "If you want to keep it… And be a part of its life, you can be." Silence reigned through the house neither of them able to speak.

"I haf a chilt…" Gilbert said, fear, joy and sorrow all in his strangled voice. "Maddhew! I haf…" The look on Matthew's face stopped Gilbert from saying more. What it said scared him more than anything in the world.

"Gilbert. It's the kid, or me. You can't have both." The blonde growled.

"Oh my…" Catherine now felt exceedingly awkward, but it was the same choice she was going to pose before Gilbert.

"Maddhew, don'd you-" Gilbert tried to explain.

"Who are you choosing?" Matthew yelled.

"I cahn'd jus' led de kit die!"

"So you're picking it? A thing you have never met, a thing that might die in the womb… Picking her, over me? Me? Who just went through hell for you?" Matthew furiously screamed, outraged as his emotional wounds had only just begun to heal.

"You'fe lift a long life!" Gilbert stopped him, "It has yet to-"

"Get out of my house! You whores!" Matthew stood, grabbing Catherine by the wrist and throwing her into the entrance hall. Gilbert ran after the incubator of his child, keeping her from falling over. "I don't want to hear what you have to say you promiscuous lothario!" A hockey-stick appeared from nowhere and was risen in anger against his most loved man.

Quickly, picking up Catherine, Gilbert fled the house with her, Matthew slamming the door behind them and snapping his hockey-stick over his leg. Sobs wracked his body again, as he sunk down to the floor. Yes, it may have been irrational to act that way, but didn't he take precedence over an embryo in the belly of a worthless woman?

Worthless? Matthew's internal dialog chastised him, She's Lillian's granddaughter… Threading his fingers up into his strawberry-blonde hair, the tears stopped, he shouldn't be crying. His granddaughter was pregnant with the seed of his now ex-fiancé. A great-grandchild was going to be born to him in nine months and Gilbert's first child… Agony descended upon him once again this month he just asked what the hell he had ever done to deserve this…

()()()

Alcohol heals all pains. Time and time again it made things seem alright. Hurt after hurt that the world could deal to him, it was always there. He took down a few shots at his usual bar. People there asked where Gilbert was and he didn't respond. People asked where he had been and he just said "vacation".

This shitty life he now had… He didn't cry, (wouldn't cry for about nine months) no matter how bad things hurt. Like a joke that's so funny you can't even get an audible laugh out for about ten seconds, this was something that hurt so much you couldn't cry.

"Hey Matthew…" The blonde lifted his head to see none other than Frederick Stoughton sitting next to him. "You look terrible."

"My fiancé just left me. Wouldn't you think I would be?" Matthew snarkily replied, picking up another drink and downing it, dropping the shot glass back to the bar. Frederick for a few moments wasn't able to properly articulate much of anything. He had expected anything other than that. "Oh and by the way, don't bother asking me to come home with you tonight either, my answer is still no."

"Calm down Matthew, that's not why I'm here." Rick assured, leaning on the bar. "I'm not here to be some proverbial tempting snake. I don't come to you again and again as the monster that makes God angry at his children, but I come to you as a friend that is willing to let you come to him." Matthew opened his mouth to say something very Gilbert-like but Rick spoke first "Come to me as a friend in need of comfort, that is."

Matthew groaned and through the haze of his alcohol thought of Frederick as thoughtful.

"So, knowing that. How about you put the liquor down and spend the night at my place?" The seconds ticked by and Matthew groaned in a tired way.

"Why not?" he said simply and Rick grinned.

"I promise you, you won't regret it."

()()()

"This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No Happy Ending."-Mika

()()()()()

Notes:

Господин Германия-Gospodin Germany-Mister Germany

Lutsch mein Schwanz-Suck my dick

Fahr zur Hölle-Go to hell

Fick dich-Fuck you

Хуесос-Huyesos-Cocksucker

So, this is the end of Throwback ;) There is still a sequel coming for anyone that doesn't totally hate me for the end of this one. There will be a little bonus chapter in this one that will probably be posted in the next couple days and I will start the sequel when I start the bloody sequel! So, yes, this is majorly important for me to know what all of you thought. Was it weak, was it predictable, I WANT TO KNOW EVEN IF YOU HATED IT! Then again, if you hated it you wouldn't be reading this I guess.

/EDIT/

Minor revisions have been made as well as expansions in other parts.