Death and Rebirth.
"Happy birthday, to me...happy birthday" The voice singing in such a sad and lonely tone hiccuped before picking back up his mournful melody "Happy birthday...to Canada..." a sniffle was heard followed by a choked back sob, "N..no one remember." July 1st, his birthday...once, he just for once wanted to be noticed, to be loved and felt loved; however, this didn't happen.
It was the same thing every year for the last decade or so. "Why?" came the muffled cry of Matthew Williams- the persona of Canada- on this lonely day that should have been so joyful and wonderful...and yet here he was in the dark with a melted candle stuck in a half eaten slice of cake and a bear that couldn't even remember his name. The pain in his chest was just far too great this time...it hurt too much! He had sent out invitations to those he knew...those that SHOULD have remembered him! But here he was forgotten again...
His mind hazy and pounding with pain from the tears that rippled down his pale alabaster skin, making his lovely violet eyes a painful red, the young nation stood from his seat and made his way to the bathroom. In his mind of hazy tears and horrible pains stormed away to his bed room all he wanted was sleep, sleep and to forget this day of loneliness.
His bed felt so wonderfully soft and comfy; he could have snuggled down into the covers any time he wanted. However, his hands had other plans. "Happy...birthday to Canada" He sang out feeling light headed. There was no pain, just emptiness. He laid down to rest his head on the feather soft pillow; it was nice not feeling anything. Everything was getting dark "H..appy...birthday...toooo...me" He said closing his eyes as sleep took him.
The door came bursting opened as a tall blond figured entered the quiet house of his northern brother "Mattie! Your favorite big brother has come to talk about his birthday on the 4th!" He shouted, gleefully unaware of the events that took place the day before. The blond looked around the place trying to find his quiet brother. What he saw first was a birthday cake; one slice seemed to already been chewed, not that America minded that. After all Canada made awesome cakes. "Huh? Did Mattie make this for me? Dude! He's such a sweet guy! There is even a note! I wonder what he wrote to me!" The foolish man bent down and picked up the note. What he read turned his blood cold.
"Dear, anyone. My name is Matthew Williams, I am Canada...July 1st is my birthday, but today will also be the last of my days. No one remembers me, no one cares unless they actually need my help, or they want me to go to war. I'm tried of being cannon fodder, I'm tired of being mistaken for my brother and getting the shit beaten out of me, I'm tired of no one knowing me! I trade with almost everyone in this goddamn world! I fought in both great wars! I'm the second largest country in the world! If Russia keeps shrinking I would have been the first... mostly, I'm tired of being alone.
I'm tired of Alfred, America only coming over when it's convenient for him. Aren't big brothers suppose to put their little brothers ahead of their wants and needs? My big brother only loves himself.
Arthur: England was the the worst to me. He took me from Papa France, never once sent out any of my letters to him, beat me every time I spoke French. He became my Dad and yet he forgot my name everyday, beat me within an inch of my life. When Alfred left to gain his independence, I thought 'surely England will remember me now!' With Alfred his favorite gone, I had desperately hoped to gain his affections, but like everything in my life, I was wrong. England only got worse, kept comparing me to Alfred, calling me Alfred, dressing me like Alfred, wanted me to be Alfred, it hurt worse then being ignored.
France, he remembered me, he always remembered me. However, even he forgot the important things...he was always more busy with other things. It was plain to see that I didn't matter to him. I love them all, and I will always continue to, but I cannot forgive them anymore. My heart cannot take this pain, tonight on this day, the day family should have been with me! I'm going to die, I'll lay peacefully in my bed and make it seem like I'm sleeping...I'll die more peacefully then I lived, for this year my birthday cake is chocolate with a hint of Cyanide, I'll die without pain unlike how I lived."
America shook his head scared for his brother "L...Love...Mattie Williams, C...Canada, please..." America read the last sentence, scared shitless, the tear running down his face with each line, wrenching a knot inside his heart, his body shaking as that fear crept into his soul.
America rushed to his little brother's bedroom, the door nearly fell off the hinges as he entered and saw the sight that nearly made him choke on the tears that fell from his eyes, "M..Mattie...this isn't funny" He's voice was breaking as he approached the still form of his little brother, his hand quivered as he reached out to gently touch the angelic face, his heart stopped when he realized. "Mattie..." it wasn't a joke...Alfred's knees gave way as he crumpled to the floor crying as he had never done before, there was no pulse, there was no heat, there was no longer a Canada. America cried like never before, the storms brewed in his house for ever drop the slide down his face, how could this have happened? No...he knew, the letter was a wake up call to the reality he had chosen to ignore, the truth he now knew and the guilt that would forever be burned inside his heart "I...I killed my brother" He wailed loudly, he needed to call someone! Anyone! He pulled out his phone and called the one person he knew that cared for Mattie "France...I killed Mattie" the line went dead, he wasn't a hero...he wasn't a brother, he was the worst kind of monster in the world...
It felt as though the hours had trickled away like water flowing in the river, when America heard the door slam opened and saw France there standing in the doorway looking worse for wear "America, what did you mean...you killed mon cheri?" He demanded as America wordlessly handed him the note and watched as France's face contorted in shame, "Mon cheri Metthew" He looked towards the dead body of his son, HIS son! America hadn't killed the boy, the three of them all contributed to this unfortunate tragedy. France kneeled beside the younger nation as he called up the police. They needed to let Matthew rest...France hugged Alfred tightly as they both cried, they had lost their precious baby...
Three days had passed since the discovery of Matthew's death, America was wearing black as the rain pounded on him, France stood next to him also wearing black...the two nations had gathered those who knew Canada and remembered him.
Hong Kong stood among the mourners crying among them, the usually stoic boy was showing more emotion than he had ever done in the past, He had sent an e-card to Canada for his birthday, he had planned on visiting the next day with a proper gift. "Oni-chan" He cried out, Matthew was like a big brother to him. He had loved Canada for trying to protect him, and when he was a British colony...Matthew had helped taken care of him...why couldn't he have done something to prevent this?
"Birdie...stupid birdie, someone who was as awesome as me shouldn't have died" Prussia mumbled as tears fell from his crimson gaze. His brother had given him a lot of work that day, he had wanted to visit Canada, the ex-nation even had a gift for the young nation. Why did he decide to listen to Ludwig this time? Why did he think he could simply give his gift to the awesome Canada at the next meeting?
Netherlands and Belgium hugged each other watching as the casket was lowered into the hole, "I should have sent more tulips! Damn this guy saved us in world war 2! He...he liberated us! He took in my royal family" Netherlands cried out pulling his sister in closer to their hug, Belgium also remember the young Nation, they were partner in trade, academics, and all the international organizations they met at! Why didn't she do anything?
"How could I have always confused you for that bastardo America?" Cuba cried wishing he had brought ice cream to Canada's place and wished him a happy birthday. this might never have happened if he had. If only he paid more attention to the details of Canada's person, his stupid brother had blue eyes while he had the loveliest violet eyes that couldn't compare to any other...
The nordics were there as well, Finland cried into Sweden's arms. The smaller blond shook, the nordics had found him first...if they had stayed, they'd had raised him "Things could have been different" he sobbed, he believed that...if they had raised Canada like he had wished, the boy would still be here! Not being lowered into the grave. Sweden tried to comfort his wife as best he could, in his heart he agreed with Finland but said nothing, the past couldn't be changed. Norway, Iceland and Denmark watched the child being lowered into the ground, they said nothing...only felt the loss of there dear friend.
China, and Korea had also come, many of there people traveled to Canada to study...both of them had close to ties, "f...funerals oriented in Korea...Canada's breast...should have belongs to me...de..za" Korea said between his own sobs. Why couldn't have remember the poor kid's birthday! He was a lousy big brother! Horrible! He always came over and yet he couldn't do one thing nice for his friend! China was also think along the same lines as Korea, he had a chinatown in Canada he should very well remember him!
Everyone that mattered to Canada was present, save for one...the United Kingdom wasn't there...this only made France and America's blood boil, a few other nations were irritated about this as well... America looked on as his watched the dirt cover his brother's casket, with each shovel his heart tightened, "My brother is dead.." he said crying anew, the weight was too much. France hugged the younger nation "My baby is gone," He said softly, it was Jeanne de Arch all over again for him...
After the ceremony and the grave was covered, Alfred walked over and placed a single red rose on top of the grave and gently patted the ground, "Mattie...I...I always thought...you'd be there, you were always there...because of me...now...you'll never be there again" He said not even bothering to wipe the tears form his eyes, "Damn it! It should be me in there not you! I'm the d**k! I'm the a*****e with a target on my back! Mattie! It...I should be the one dead, not you...not someone who was as pure and kind as you...I didn't deserve you...I had the worlds greatest little brother, and I ignored him...made him feel less then he was, an angel" he stood and turned to Francis "I want to see England, that a** wasn't here...I need to punch his lights out" He said in a solemn tone, Francis only nodded wanting to see the Brit for himself.
The unusual pair after driving away from the cemetery headed for the airport, they already had there bags in the trunk of the rented car, as if they had been preparing to confront the British man since that morning. The drive to the airfield was held in a strange and unreal silence, neither of them spoke, even if they could they had nothing to say at the moment and so the silence was welcomed.
After getting there tickets and settling in their seats, Alfred gave in to his tired and weary body, France sighed watching the younger nation "Finally...you haven't slept since July 2nd...you even canceled your party, looks like your not as immature as many believe...or perhaps you've finally awakened?" He asked brushing a strand of hair out of the younger nation's face, "Your all I have left...my oldest son" He said as the tear one more poured from his eyes as he leaned forward and planted a kiss on Alfred's forehead "Dream sweetly, Mattie would have wanted that" he said choking back a sob as he pulled the younger nation closer to him allow Alfred's head to rest on his shoulder, while Francis had buried his nose in Alfred's hair, content to simple stay close as his tears fell like rain.
Even though he hadn't been picked by America, he saw the younger nation as a son, such a sweet boy he was. France remember aiding him in the revolutionary war, it was at first to get back at England; however, it became much more after that...seeing him grow was magic to him. France had dearly wished he had won the 7 year war...he would have seen his Mattie grow and possible he might have still been here. France wished for nothing more at that moment then to hug his precious baby again, his baby that was now gone from this world...
When the plan landed and the two managed to get the suite cases, they rented another car and France drove through the busy streets of London.
The two were feeling an anxiety previously thought was none existent, they could feel there hearts ready to leap from their chest. London was as gloom and unwelcoming as its embodiment, Alfred dully noted, Mattie's finally note was crumpled in his sweat hands as they came near to England's house. Alfred had not once let go of the paper save for letting France read when the two had first seen each other at Mattie's deathbed...Mattie's letter was the last tangible thing that connected him to his deceased brother a reminding to what his horrible ego had caused, he wasn't going to let himself forget anything as important as family again.
Francis saw the note again in Alfred's hand, and sighed "I'm getting those letters England never sent...I won't let him keep those from me any longer" He said gripping the wheel, he had assumed Matthew had forgotten him after being handed over so coldly to England. At first being disconnected form his son had hurt, but he had dulled the pain with plenty of wine, he had figured his sweet Chaton hated him for handing him over to England...he was too stupid to realize England was between them...
France snapped from his stupor as he realized they were fast approaching England's house, lightly stepping on the breaks he slowed to a stop, "Well...ready for the British invasion?" He said in a tone far too serious, America nodded and climbed out the car.
The duo walked to the front door, there nerves seemed fried at the moment of this important meeting. France knocked on the door, the both of them stood still for the longest time. Alfred could hear his heart pounding in his chest, his throat was so dry it choking him to death, even his hands were sweaty and balling into fist ready to punch the man for not showing his busy brow face at the cemetery.. "What is going to say? Is he even sober? How could he have forgotten the funeral? I called him personally!" He thought as the doorknob began turning, his breath hitched as the door creaked opened revealing Arthur on the other side with a blank look on his face.
"What in bloody hell are you two doing here?" Arthur asked wondering why they were wearing all black, was Alfred going that far with his little funeral prank? Before he could wonder, a fist slammed into his face "You fucking bastard! Did you honestly forget! Matthew! I called you! I told you to be there! My brother is dead you mother fucking ass!" Alfred shouted falling to his knees once more as he began crying, "H..he wrote about you in his final letter...he wrote how you.." He shook as the tears spilled down his face "He committed suicide! Why weren't you there!"
Arthur rubbed his face, blood dripping from his nose which he was sure without a doubt was broken "What the hell you talking about? Matthew? Who the hell is Matthew?" He demanded trying to stop the bleeding.
"Canada..." France said in a voice tittering on the edge of hate, "Canada was Matthew my son you stole from me! My son you kept all his letters away from me! My son! My son that I loved more then anyone else in this world!" He stormed into England's house "I'll be in your attic, I know for a fact you keep all your pack rat things up there! I will be taking those letters you never sent out! They are mine!" He said making his way to England's attic.
The blond haired nation made an attempt to stop him but was stopped by America "Not this time! I'm on his side! Those letters...belong to a real father, not some drunken bastard too stupid to attend his neglected son's funeral!" he shouted as France began searching England's attic for his letters from Canada.
Arthur growled and pushed away from America "Canada is dead you say? Suicide? Pah! What a weak little colony he was then," England said crossing his arms waiting for France to retrieve his precious letters "He was never any good except for Cannon fodder, he was nothing like you...always whimpering and squirming" He said with a face that meant business "The only other purpose he served was keeping my bed warm, but it was nothing, you would have been better"
Growling "You fucked him! You sick asshole! Mother fucking sick prick! He wanted to make you love him! He even went as far as letting you take his ass!" Alfred was shaking with rage all the while Arthur simply had a annoyed look on his face, "Please, I'm sure I'm not the only one whose had that ass, I wouldn't have been surprised if France wanted him when he was older, he was a little whore to anyone that gave him an inch of attention, he the replica of France in every way" he mockingly.
Too bad for him France had found his letters and retuned in time to hear everything. It chilled him to the core that Arthur would think so lowly of him...France brushed past England and said nothing, only a hand on Alfred's shoulder "Let's go...we need not deal with such a pathetic man" He said dragging out the sobbing American.
A week had passed since then, no one had heard from America, France had been doing much of the paper work to ensure that America would have control of the land until further notice. It pained Francis but he knew America wouldn't be able to handle the paper work right now. He wanted to make sure no one else got there hands on Canada, and he knew America would be the perfect person to keep his brother's land as beautiful as its previous representative.
Alfred for his part was roaming the wilderness of his brother's lands, and wondering why he never did this before? Why hadn't he enjoyed Matthew's country before now? It was peaceful and calm, just like him...it hurt how everything now reminded him of Matthew...
Pancakes, sports, maple trees, flowers, the color red, and the list continued in his mind until it hurt to think about it!
Sighing softly he looked around, he was far from anywhere and alone where none would find him. The American reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun, "It should have been me to die...don't worry Mattie, I'll be a better brother in the afterlife, if I'm allowed into heaven...you were an angel...god would surely take you back into his fold, me I'm bound for hell" He placed the gun to his head and clicked the trigger once...
"Don't do that" A calm and familiar voice said snapping America from his thoughts of death, the blond blinked "K...Kumajirou! I wondered...where you went.." he said moving close to the polar bear and petting him gently "I'm sorry...it all my fault...C..Canada is gone" He said softly to the orphan bear, "Hmm do you promise not to hurt him again?" It was a strange question and it made Alfred blink "I've been watching everything, I can raise him...France is too far, and so is everyone else who cares...your the only one who can raise him" The polar bear was still vague in his explanation.
Alfred wondered what the hell the bear was talking about, his confused look didn't faze the bear "I promise never to hurt him again, if I could I never let him out of my sight again" he assumed the bear was talking about when he met Mattie again on the other side. The bear only blinked and nodded "Wait here, I'll be back" Kumajiro trotted off leaving Alfred very confused, "Maybe he wants me to bring Mattie something when I see him" He sighed not having the heart to tell the bear he didn't know how to bring things to the after life with him, but he would humor the bear and with that he sat down on a old stump to wait the bears return.
It was nearly night fall when Kuma returned, Alfed sighed relieved the bear was ready for whatever it wanted to give Mattie, "Here he is, you better take care of him, the first time you ignore him...I'm biting your testicles off" The bear said emerging from the woods with a tiny boy on his back.
Alfred stared in shock, the boy had wavy long blond hair, purple eyes, and an unmistakable curl stick up from his hair, he wore a white gown with a red ribbon. "C...Canada?" He breathed out, the boy looked no older then 4 years old as he sat upon Kuma's back as if he were riding a horse, the boy looked up at Alfred "How do you know my name? Kumajirou said that was my name two days ago" the boy said in a soft and sweet voice...
The tears formed in America's eyes again, it was him...his little brother, Canada was given new life. Alfred was also given a second chance to be a brother, he kneeled down "I'm America...your big brother, won't you and Kumajrou come home with me? I love you so much Canada...I promise I'll take care of you always, I've missed you so much" Alred said between sobs and sniffles.
Little Canada slid off Kuma's back and trotted over to America on unstable legs, purple eyes peered into America's tear blue eyes "If I come will you stop crying? I don't wanna see you cry" The little boy said falling forward and hugging the older nation. The little boy didn't understand why the strange man cried, all he knew was that he was hurting "Can I call you big brother?" Canada asked innocently, "Yes! Call me big brother!" America said wrapping his arms around the tiny boy and picking up off the ground, kissing his tiny cheek "My baby brother...my baby" He whispered into the little one's ear.
Canada felt overwhelmed by the affection "Okay frère, I'll go with you" the boy said causing the American to laughing happily as he spun his little brother around in the air, "Okay! L...Let go home Mattie!" He said cradling his baby brother in his arms "Come on Kuma, let's all go home" He said never having loved the saying at one time more then now and the trio descended back to town where they would talk until they both fell asleep...
To be continued...