Maple Syrup and Vodka

When I See That You're Okay...Well, I Can't Help It

The way Matthew was feeling, he was in constant turmoil. He felt the space around him, as if every atom was abuzz with movement. He could feel. He could hear bits and pieces of voices, heck he could even smell the faint aroma of fish; most likely Kumajirou's food. 

The only thing Matthew couldn't do was, well, wake up. No matter how hard he tried to open his eyes, it was like an odd lucid dream. He could move, in fact. When he managed to pull his body to sit up,  he met resistance that made him feel...heavy. Not as if he was buried under a mountain or snow, but as if he was waterlogged in his very bones. His head spun, and Matthew /almost/ felt like loosing the little bit of food he had been eating. 

Reaching up with weary movement, Matthew gently rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Almost like a glue, it was keeping his eyes shut- Now he could open them. 

What was before him was not a bedroom. Underneath him was the bed, yes, but around him...pure nothingness. Not a bright white or a dark inky blackness, but instead a field of grass, a light blue sky and big, fluffy white clouds floating on a cool breeze. " ...Ivan?" Matthew whispered, looking around. He dared not to move from the bed, due to how weak he felt. It didn't stop him from looking around in curiosity. 

With an inhale of air, Matthew could smell the salt on the breeze. He was near the sea? Perhaps it was Newfoundland, a place he visited often. He remembered how he had met many explorers who had landed there- From early on when he first saw Leif Eriksson to when the island was first made into a colony. It was always nice to visit the island, and take in everything from the sights and sounds, and the entire culture of it all. 

The faint memory suddenly popped up of when he first met Russia, and as if from nowhere, the scene played out before him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

" Someone as important as a country should not be alone in a field, да?" A young Canada suddenly jumped up from where he sat in the tall grass, a somewhat older Kumajirou coming to his side.  Russia, somewhat older- The height of a twelve year old, while Matthew was only the height of a young child- towered over him completely. A small camp set up nearby by explorers had gained Matthew's interest, and he had come to watch- Though he had become distracted by some clusters of purple flowers. Quite nervous and timid, Matthew shakily held up the flowers to the other. The Russian nation eyed the flowers, a frown taking over his features. The hesitation was great, and though he looked around first, the Russian nation still took the flowers and shoved them in his satchel. "...спасибо." And with that, the Russian nation turned and marched off, back towards the small camp.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The smell of Tomato soup wafted through the air as Matthew opened his eyes, finding himself staring at the light coloured ceiling. "...Ivan?"

Ivan had just returned from his errands, walking in the room to check on Matthew. Toris was downstairs, making some Tomato soup. According to the Lithuanian, Matthew was to be still asleep... but as soon as Ivan stepped in the room, the ill Canadian had spoken up. 

Ivan hurried over, tears quickly filling his eyes- though he quickly wiped them away. Kneeling next to the bed, he spoke quietly, though in a rush. 

" My luchik, my dear, I'm so sorry... I shouldn't of let anything happen to you..." Ivan whispered, tears rushing down his face.

Matthew reached up, and with a gentle touch, wiped away Ivan's tears. 

"You're...you're crying." 

Ivan managed a small smiled, squeezing Matthew's hand. "When I see that you're okay, I... I can't help it."