Safe And Sound, a hetalia - axis powers fanfic

The room was deathly silent and yet painfully noisy, the only sounds being the soft wheeze of the respirator, the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, and the sharp, incessant beep of the heart monitor. A thin green line traced its way across the screen again and again, the ragged rhythm and grimly-coloured numbers serving as a constant reminder of the precarious state of the life they represented. A life lying far too still in the hospital bed, skin as pale as the thick bandages encasing thin forearms, blonde hair splayed over the pillow, and violet eyes hidden behind closed lids.

The doctor's prognosis was as ominous as the barely visible rise and fall of the man's chest under the sheets, assisted as it was by life-supporting machinery. Odds of continued survival, uncertain. Odds of awakening from the comatose state into which the young man had fallen, minute indeed. It might well be that those eyes would remain forever closed while the green line followed its jagged path over and over indefinitely.

Maybe this is forever

Forever fades away

Like a rocket ascending into space

"Please don't die, Matthew..." Alfred whispered, hand tightly clasped around that of his brother. The American's face showed the strain of great worry that had settled far too quickly onto his shoulders. "Don't give up, you have so much to live for...Even if you don't realize it..."

Could you not be sad

Could you not break down

After all, I won't let go

Until you're safe and sound

"Please...I don't want to lose you..." His other hand tightened on the edge of the chair. "I'm sorry for not realizing...Please give me a chance to make it right...to make you happy..."

There's beauty in release

There's no one left to please

But you and me

"I'm sorry..." he repeated, bowing his head. "I...I'm your brother...I should've seen...how unhappy you were..." Behind blue irises, images replayed of the gentler twin curled up on his bathroom floor, blood from brutally slashed arms pooling on the tiles in a macabre mockery of his beloved maple leaf. Of the all but empty calendar, the blank answering machine, the empty email inbox, the thousand other scattered signs of the lonely life the Canadian had led. Of the expression of blissful relief on his too-pale face.

I don't blame you for quitting

I know you really try

Alfred glanced at the clock again, even though he knew it would be hours before any of the others could arrive. Frantic calls made from the hospital waiting room had ended with promises from Arthur and Francis of being on the next possible flights across the Atlantic, and from many of the others of being there as soon as they could. "Please hurry." Was all the American had said, the grim possibility unspoken. For now, though, he was alone with his brother and the ticking of the clock and the incessant sound of the heart monitor.

If only you could hang on through the night

I don't want to be lonely

I don't want to be scared

All our friends are waiting there

Until you're safe and sound

"Please hold on..." He whispered for what seemed the thousandth time, he wasn't sure. It seemed like an eternity that he had been sitting in that room, holding his brother's frail hand and pleading with him to hold on and give him a chance to make amends.

There's beauty in release

There's no one left to please

But you and me

His thoughts skipped backwards over the years, tracing the lonely path Matthew had walked unnoticed by those who should have seen it.

The times Matthew had been hurt, with no one to give him the advice normally imparted by fathers, brothers, and friends, and the friends he had had to keep at a distance for fear of his family's objections.

Feel like I could've held on

Feel like I could've let go

All the times Matthew had been drowned out by the voices of others, unable to make himself heard, until he finally stopped trying.

Feel like I could've helped you

Feel like I could've changed you

Turning his back on the Canadian's tears as York burned beside them, ignoring his cries of pain as his skin was burned as well. Pulling the unconscious Canadian from the wreckage of a house in Halifax, using his shirt as a compress to staunch the bleeding from the gaping wound created by the explosion.

Feel like I could've held you

Feel like I could've hurt you

Feel like I was a stranger

Feel like I was an angel

All the times he had dragged the other on random adventures, often with Arthur and Francis, only to be distracted again and again as his brother watched on, never complaining or demanding attention the way the American did.

Feel like I was a hero

Feel like I was a zero

The memories played back in his mind, Canada being summoned to the foreground by his thoughts, the loneliness in his eyes not even hidden, and yet never noticed by friends or family. How long had those violet eyes been clouded with sadness? How many times had the Canadian called out for help and gone unheard?

Feel like I could have changed you

Feel like I could have healed you

Feel like I could have saved you

Feel like I should've heard you

He tried to count the times he could have listened, could have given advice, could have let Matthew know he mattered.

Feel like I could have moved you

Feel like I could have changed you

Feel like I could have healed you

Feel like I should've told you

There were too many such times. Far, far, far too many. His insides twisted in guilt at the way he had neglected his brother.

Feel like I could have loved you

"I'm so sorry, Matthew..."