Blood and Tears

Shattering of Worlds.

~Gilbert POV.

The rest of the night I didn't leave his side. I couldn't have slept if I'd wanted to. All that mattered was Matthieu. I watched his sleeping face, so peaceful, but at the same time, not. Dried tears ran from his eyes to his chin, and his mouth was open slightly. The storm outside had died down some and you could hear thunder far off. I glanced out the window for a second, seeing the moon peek through the clouds. I heard Matthieu whimper in his sleep, so I turned my attention back on him. I shushed him softly and rubbed his arm. Almost imediatly, he stopped and snuggled closer to me. I smiled and kissed his head. Ironicly, he smelled just like maple syrup.

I laughed a little, thinking to myself. If he eats so much of that stuff and he smells like it, I wonder if I smell like beer and wurst to him. I smiled at the thought. Then my thoughts turned. How come no one notices him? I looked down at the sleeping nation. I remembered what he said the day I stopped him from killing himself. "Because nobody cares!" I closed my eyes as the memory embraced me. I saw his face in the back of my eyelids, tears streaming down his face once more. "You're the first person in over a hundred years that has finally noticed me! Over a hundred years! Do you know what it's like to be ignored?! Invisable?! Try your best to be noticed but all they do is overlook you?!"

I opened my eyes, staring at his face. I ran my hand through his hair. His eyelids flickered, but stayed closed. "One hundred and fourty seven years..." I whispered, then pulled his sleeping form closer to me so that my chin was resting on his head. An idea popped into my head and I smiled. I pulled my head back and looked at his still sleeping face. "At least you won't know what it's like to be alone a hundred and fourty eight years." He yawned and made a cute little noise as his mouth shut. He smiled contently in his sleep. "Mein Birdie..." I pulled him close again and shut my eyes, feeling his warmth against my skin. "Jour not alone... I'm here for jou... I care."

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It was the day of the meeting and I was leading Matthieu into the building. Dispite him digging his heels into the ground, I managed to get him into the meeting room. I sat him down in the almost empty room and held his hand under the table, trying to soothe his nerves. I would glance at the door occasionally, watching as the other countries sat in their seats. Russia entered the room and almost sat ontop of poor Matthieu. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from strangling the nation. "Zhat seat's taken Arschloch." He smiled in that creepy way of his and sat down in another seat across the table.

Soon, the meeting started and arguments and insults flew through the room. England and France were going at it and America, being the 'hero' he was, was trying to pull them apart. Italy was practically glued to my brother's side, and Romano was glaring at them, his gaze filled with hatred. Lithuania was trembling by Russia's side and he was smiling like nothing in the world was wrong. I felt Matthieu tug on my hand so I turned my attention to him, not wanting him to relive that dream he told me about. "I want to go home." He whispered. I squeezed his hand. "Just a little longer. Zhen ve can go home and make pancakes. Okay?" He nodded.

"Hey Prussia! Talking to yourself dude?" I turned my head and glared at Matthieu's brother. Ignorant bastard. "No. I'm talking to some one zhat jou of all people should know." Matthieu tugged my hand again. "Gilbert don't. It's not worth it." But America's voice shut out his own quiet voice. "Who?" I gritted my teeth. By now the room had gone quiet. "Jour brother." America laughed. "Dude are you alright? I don't have a brother." Matthieu got up from his chair and walked to the door. My anger peaked. I jumped up across the table and pinned America to the wall. "Jou ignorant, selfish, uncaring bastard!" I pushed him into the wall with all of my weight.

He tried to punch and kick, but I hit him back just as hard. "Jou don't notice jour own brother! Vhat is-" I was cut off by the sickening sound of metal hitting flesh and bone. I heard something slump to the ground and a curse in russian behind me. America looked down and his face went blank. "Who's that?" I turned my head around to see Matthieu lying on the floor, not moving. I droped America and ran over to him. I picked up his head and it limply lolled to the side, exposing a horrible dent in his skull. Blood was slowly leaking out of the wound. My breathing hitched and I put my ear up to his mouth. It seemed like forever, but finally I heard him breathe. "He's still alive... Call 911!"

I saw Germany whip out his phone and speak into it rapidly. Time seemed to speed up and soon the ambulance arrived. His blood was now soaking my clothing and his hair. When they took him to the ambulance, I asked if I could go with them. They looked doubtful. "Please. I need to go vith him." One of them nodded and I climbed into the back, and we sped off to the hospital. They stuck needles in his arm and gave him a bunch of medicine I couldn't name. When we arrived, they wheeled him off down a corrador. "Vait! Vhere is he going?" I tried to push past the nurses. "No sir, you have to wait in the front."

I looked down at them. "Vhy?" They continued to push me to the front room. "Sit here. He is going to emergancy surgery. We will call you when he has been stablized." So for the next six hours, I sat in a chair in the hospital, waiting to see Matthieu. I felt a tap on my arm and I looked up, expecting to see the nurse. I frowned and glared at the man in front of me. "America." I spat. He sat across from me. "Alfred in public. Look, who was that and why does he look like me?" He said. "Zhat vas jour brother and his name is Matthieu." America rolled his eyes. "But I don't have a brother!" He whined. "One hundred and fourty seven years ago jou did!" I said forcefully in a whisper.

"Und jou remembered him zhen! Vhy don't jou recognise him now?" He looked shocked. A nurse came up, interupting my little rant. "Um. You can come and see him now." She looked sad. "Is he alright?" I stood and followed her, America not far behind. The nurse was quiet and took an elevator to the third floor. She led us to a room and froze when her hand touched the knob. Then she opened the door and led us in. I felt like breaking down and crying. Matthieu had wires of all sorts in his arms and his head was wrapped tightly in a bandage. A heart monitor was beeping noisily and something like an acordian in a clear tube was moving up and down. 

The clear tube formed into a smaller tube, which led to his mouth. He had an I.V drip and a blood drip as well. I went up and shook his arm lightly. "Birdie..." He didn't stirr. His eyelids didn't even flicker. The nurse sniffed behind us. I turned to look at her. "Will he be alright?" I asked again. She looked at Matthieu pittifully. "We don't know. His head took quite a blow." America spoke up. "But he will live... right?" The nurse looked over at him, then to me. "That is all up to him, I'm afraid." I was confused. "Up to who?" She came over and sat us down in chairs on either side of Matthieu. I looked over at America, who was just as confused as me. "I'm sorry." The nurse said. We looked back up at her. "He's in a coma." At that moment, my whole world shattered.