A/N; Alright – since most reviewers wanted a third chapter, with the funeral in it, here it is. Sorry if it disappoints you – I couldn't really bring myself to make it longer than this. I hope it satisfies you. If I catch any errors, I'll fix them later - I'm exhausted.

Thanks again for reading!
And thanks to everyone who has reviewed the past two chapters, added this story to their subscription list, and favourited it. I appreciate the readers who enjoy this story. -smiles-

Disclaimer; I do not own Axis Powers HETALIA.

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"A life has been lost recently. A life of pain and loneliness – of grief, sadness and illness. One man, hardly known to the world around him, died much too early. Matthew Williams, of Canadian heritage, lost his life to non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, and his death was assisted by a hospital's impudence with regards to taking care of a patient. We are not here today, however, to talk about our anger with the hospital staff – we are here to celebrate the short life of Matthew Williams," Arthur's forlorn, choked up voice announced to a small crowd of people assembled in the funeral home room.

People who finally remembered who the blonde Canadian was.

People who had ignored him, but regretted their actions.

And the one person who cared enough to be around the Canadian for most of his lifetime.

"We… We weren't the best family to Matthew. We hardly even knew he existed. He was like a stranger to us – his relatives! If we could turn back time, and do everything over again, we would. But we can't. We deeply regret losing him. But… H-Hah… We barely knew him! Why am I standing up here, when everything I did to that poor boy hurt him?!" Arthur stepped back from the podium, wiping unsuccessfully at the tears. Guilt had been gnawing at him ever since he heard about the death of his relative – guilt for everything he had done.

Or, more specifically, everything he had not done.

Francis stepped closer to the podium, and called out, "S-So… We would ask that… Gilbert Beilschmidt come up here."

Gilbert blinked his glistening eyes, and glared up at the three blondes huddled together near the podium.

The albino contemplated refusing the somewhat-stricken family – after all, it was partially them that had driven Matthew to the point of illness derived from stress.

However, that was exactly why he couldn't refuse.

Matthew.

Steeling himself, Gilbert stood up and slipped away from his brother's side, walking up the small aisle before stopping in front of the family. He gazed at them in a slightly disgusted fashion – however, he felt a fraction better with how truly stricken they looked, and the guilt in their eyes. It would teach them a lesson that they would never forget.

And Gilbert would be sure of it.

He nodded briefly at them, before he moved behind the podium, and faced the throng of people. He took a deep – but not shuddering, never shuddering, he couldn't appear weak – breath before hardening his scarlet gaze.

"So, you're all gathered here today to celebrate the short life of my friend, eh?" Gilbert narrowed his eyes at the sheepish nods from the crowd.

"We're here to celebrate his life, realize all the good things he did, and you all miss him?" More nods surfaced from the assembled people.

Gilbert snorted.

"I, for one, think it's a load of bullshit."

A chorus of surprised noises came from the assembled figures, and even Ludwig stared at his brother in bewilderment.

"Wh-What?" Alfred asked in shock, his blue eyes wide.

"You heard me," the albino snapped harshly, silencing the surrounding figures. "You're not fuckin' here to celebrate his life! You're here because your regret is eatin' away at you! Your guilt!" Gilbert knew that his eyes were glistening again – he could feel the traitourous tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. But he knew that he couldn't stop now – not when he'd said that much already.

"You regret never noticin' him! You regret ignorin' him! You regret mistakin' him for some stupid, cocky, brawny dipshit that barely resembles him!" For once, Alfred did not rise to the bait – instead, he seemed to deflate, and his face became shadowed with sorrow. "How could you not tell the damned difference?! Matt was… He was polite, and pleasant, and soft-spoken! Hell, if you just met him, you'd have to strain your ears to hear him!" Gilbert took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"I just… You all don't know him. You didn't know him. The only one who knew him was me. Hell, you can all think that I'm just boastin' – inflatin' my ego – but I'm not. I knew Matt for who he was – he was polite most of the time, but he was a spunky lil' shit, too!" The Prussian released a broken laugh, threading his fingers through his unruly, silver hair. "But if you needed his help, he was there. Especially when you wanted his pancakes." A self-deprecating smirk crept onto Gilbert's lips, curling them cynically upwards.

"He helped me… So damn much. If I needed him, he was there. I just wish I could've been there to save 'im. I didn't wanna let him go.

"Fuck… I'll even admit – I took him for granted. I thought we were gonna be friends until we were old, and then argue with stupid teenagers. Thought we were gonna be chattin' and goin' on trips and doin' all this other shit. But… H-He's gone, and he ain't fuckin' comin' back! We're all gonna have to accept it," Gilbert shook his head slightly, his eyes glazed over. He ignored the enraptured stares he was getting from the people around him, instead straightening up, his gaze suddenly becoming emboldened with a strange light.

"Matthew Williams was one of those people you don't find every day. He was a one in a million kid. He will be missed, and his sad life regretted by those who couldn't find the time in their fuckin' lives to pay one second of attention to him. That's really all I have to say, except…" Gilbert turned to face the open casket. He stepped closer to it, and winced at the peaceful expression on the sorrowful Canadian's face. He hesitantly rested a hand on top of Matthew's, and swallowed thickly.

"I'll miss you, you lil' shit."

Without another word, Gilbert turned and fled the funeral home.

Ludwig leapt to his feet, and – with an apologetic glance aimed at the astonished and upset family – quickly followed his brother, yelling his name as he exited the room.

"… W-Well… We shall… C-Continue now…" Arthur murmured in a shaken voice, attempting to gather some shred of dignity as he approached the podium to continue the ceremony for the lost life.

---

Gilbert had, of course, been present for the burial – after the crowds of people had left, only the family remained.

Maria, the nurse from Seychelles, had come by during the burial - she couldn't make it during the funeral, but she had sent her apology along with Gilbert.

Yao, the Chinese doctor that had first sent Matthew for treatment, felt utterly guilty for his actions - he took time off to come see the casket get lowered into the ground, and to lay a rose on it. Ludwig had remained with his brother faithfully, until the Prussian had told him to go wait in the car – he'd be there shortly.

"I'm… I'm sorry, mon cher," Francis murmured, brushing a hand across the top of Matthew's tombstone.

"O-Oh God, Matthew… I'm terribly sorry… Why…" Arthur sobbed, his face in his hands as Alfred wordlessly placed the flowers on the ground, and patted the stone that marked his brother's grave.

"… Matt… I'll never forget you," the American murmured, and the family slowly walked away from the grave.

Gilbert watched them leave, before slipping out of his hiding place and hurrying over to the grave. He rested a hand on the tombstone with a weak smile.

"Wish you were still here, bud. Had so much planned. I guess… I guess we're just going to have to wait until we're together again, eh? I'll try to carry on your legacy of pancakes and maple syrup, and I promise that I will never, ever – not even when I die – forget you. Rest in peace, Matt."

With his final parting words, Gilbert laid the white, stuffed bear on the grave, before shoving his hands into his pockets and walking away.

After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder and smiled briefly.

"And I know – it's a polar bear."

He left the graveyard and began the short trek back to the vehicle, just in time to miss a tinkling laughter, and the flowers moving with a non-existent wind.

---

"So… You are all actually sorry for what you did?" A being noted as he saw Arthur, Alfred and Francis huddled on the floor, sleeping.

There were visible tear tracks down each of their cheeks.

A soft smile came to the figure's face, and gently brushed the remaining tear stains away, as well as the strained wrinkles on their faces from their overwhelming sadness.

"It's okay. I forgive you. It's what family does, right?" He chuckled, before slipping out of the house and floating towards another familiar one. He slipped easily through a wall before materializing again.

"Ahaha, I got the right room! You would be proud of me, wouldn't you?" He moved forward, towards the bed, where a sleeping figure lay curled under the covers. He pretended not to notice the pitiful expression on the slumbering male's face.

"You know… I really loved your parting gift. But... I think it would be better if you kept it. I really don't want you to forget me. It took a lot to convince Him to let me see you all – I can't keep asking. Feliciano's grandfather's still having trouble with asking," the figure laughed brightly, before slipping a stuffed toy into the sleeping male's arms.

"I'll really miss you a lot, you know… You said some very nice things today about me, in front of all those people… I'm so sorry, I never meant for this to happen. I didn't want to die, Gilbert. I wanted for us to be friends for a long time. I wouldn't be your partner-in-crime, though..." He let out a small chuckle. "No, I'm not getting my panties in a twist. But, seriously... I'll never forget you, even if you forget me, and I'll always watch over you, Gilbert."

Gilbert shifted in his bed, unconsciously hugging the bear closer.

"Never forget Matthew Williams, and he will not forget you - but you're an exception." With that, Matthew rested a hand on Gilbert's head before he began dematerializing, his form vanishing into sparkling lights.

"Thank you…"

---

And when the figure disappeared, the night was silent – but the moon and stars seemed just that little bit brighter.

In the morning, everyone would go about their normal business.

But the dark shroud of only sorrow and guilt will have disappeared.

And in the graveyard, above the grave marked 'Matthew Williams'...

A single, white trillium had grown.

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T h e y a l w a y s s a y t h a t s t r e s s c a n m a k e y o u s l i g h t l y i l l , o r g i v e y o u a d i s e a s e t h a t i s s u r e t o k i l l . F o r t h o s e w h o h a v e s u c c u m b e d , t e a r s a r e s h e d - b u t t e a r s c a n n o t b r i n g b a c k t h e d e a d .

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Note; A white trillium is a flower that it is illegal to pick in Ontario, Canada - being that it is the emblem/official flower of the province - which is why I chose that flower to grow over Matthew's grave. He is a Canadian, after all. (It is protected in parks, the more rare type of trillium is fully protected by law.)