Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED
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“Canada,” both nations say simultaneously. Alfred’s eyes grow large in alarm.
“Put the gun down, comrade,” Ivan says carefully. Matthew has not chosen a target- he merely points vaguely at the space the two nations occupy.
“So we’re equals now?” Matt says, his voice sweet but still mocking. “I was under the impression you tried to own me.” The look he has is downright evil, but Alfred recognizes this quality. He’s seen Canada pissed before. Canada has made him cry with his words before. And then right afterwards, he always says something apologetic, like-
“That was harsh. What I mean is-”
“Mattie,” the American says, eyes innocuously wide, impressed- elated. Canada’s expression softens.
“Don’t get me wrong…this isn’t because you ‘rescued’ me, or because you ‘woke me up.’”
Alfred’s grin, the idiotic, charming smile that spans the entire state of California is suddenly flashing across his face, the color coming back to his skin.
“Of course not!” he says, voice dripping with enthusiastic sarcasm. “You totally were conscious the entire time you did all that nasty stuff-”
“I didn’t intend to…” Matt trails off, harshness fading almost entirely, in favor of a guilty, shy expression. Ivan smiles sadly.
“You wanted to pretend, to wait until your brother came back, so you could take me on together. But-”
“I was lonely. So tired of being ignored, Al. You have to understand-”
“You let him. You gave yourself up because suddenly the feeling of someone wanting you didn’t seem like such a bad thing,” Alfred says bitterly. Nobody speaks. The room is dead still, the smallest movement threatening to overthrow the tenuous balance.
“I’m sorry,” Matthew says quietly. “I wasn’t supposed to loose myself like that. I was supposed to remember.”
“No. I’m sorry.” The two brothers look up, bright eyes meeting, the connection sparked once again. Ivan stares off into space, the smile not vanishing from his face. He knows he’s been defeated. America probably feels his strength returning with every word his brother says.
“Do you want me to kill him?” Matt asks, expression mournful.
“That’s not really my decision to make, is it?”
Alfred stands, now towering over Russia who remains sitting, the simple, harmless expression plastered across his face.
“You won’t fight back, will you?”
“If you kill me? Of course…but…it’s clear that you would win now. I can only fire so many nukes before you finish me…and I don’t think…I’m not-”
“He’s not evil,” Canada whispers, trying to meet Ivan’s gaze, but Russia refuses to look at either of them.
“Could have fooled me.”
“He wouldn’t risk destruction of the world just to attack you directly. He only wants what he sees is the best thing everyone. Unity, balance, equality- he’s not so different from you-”
“It doesn’t matter,” Alfred spits, walking past Matt. Canada looks at him for a moment, then back at Russia, who only now lifts his dazed eyes to smile at Canada. “After what he’s done to you- almost did to me, there’s no way-”
No way America can forgive him. But that’s a lie. Countries forgive and forget easily, most of all Alfred. It is the nature of history, and why they are destined to relive it over and over. He forgave Kiku, he forgave Ludwig, he forgave England- England is his best friend in the world, damnit. So there is nothing to say he won’t be sipping tea with this man in thirty years. Or tomorrow, by orders of his boss.
It makes him sick. He wants to hate Ivan so much. He has never been so scared of another country as he is of Russia. This confirms it. That childish smile, the casual way he admits defeat, talking about assured mutual destruction like it’s a video game…
Canada realizes he’s hurt Alfred as his brother leaves the room, leaves him pointing his gun at Russia.
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