This story was influenced by "Giving In" by Artificial.
Chapter 28: Cauchemar
"Where I come from, the color of the snow is always crimson"
Always Crimson.
Blood, screaming, gun-shots, snow, his flag torn and fallen....
Canada woke to his own bed, his own home. It was cold, quiet, he could see his own breath with his slightest breathing. His body felt numb, his chest and back ached though, his head was pounding too. His eyes felt heavy as he tried sitting up. Everything was dark, he thought he could see the shadows of each corner moving in on him.
He shook his head a bit and closed his eyes. This wasn't right, he was at Russia's house not his. He shivered and hugged his knees, not again, not Winter. The entire room was quiet except for blowing of Winter's cold wind, everything else was quiet, until he heard a yell.
"Matthew!" The voice angrily yelled. Canada jumped at the voice and looked around to realize the voice was outside. He slowly got out of bed and walked toward the door. Even though it was dark, he sensed that the room was different. Canada opened the door and walked out to the hallway, it was different too, there was no hallway, maybe this wasn't this house after all.
He walked around and heard the wind blowing through the front door and went toward that direction. He reached for the door knob, paused, then opened the door to a hard, blinding breeze. He at first closed his eyes but opened when he felt someone standing there.
The uniform he hated seeing on the person he loved dearly. The bright blue coat, the red collar, the white gloves; and the musket pointed right in his face.
"A-Al?" Canada stuttered, the point of the musket just a few inches away from his face. America stood there with careful aim and an angry expression in his military uniform, the revolution uniform.
1812, the only one-on-one fighting he did with America, the only battle he won against him too. The time that scared Canada, upset him, and angered him all at the same time, America wasn't an easy fighter and being his brother only made it worse. Winter loved using this against him.
America jumped forward and Canada jumped away, the bayonet just missed him. Canada moved away to the side of the American, figured he could hit him from behind, but America turned toward his side and managed to hit him, more of a punch really. Canada hit into the wall and tried to duck down but America quickly got the upper hand, dropped the musket, and put his hands around the Canadian's throat.
Canada gasped as America tightened his grip around his throat. He tried to breathe, cough, talk, nothing would happen, no air went in or out. America's grip became tighter and suffocated the boy; something wasn't right though. Usually he would of woken up by now, suffocation was the last point, it never felt real before. This time, it was too real, he was losing consciousness, his lungs felt like they were going to explode. "W-Winter." He gasped. Stop please. America's piercing eyes stared him down as he put more pressure in. Finally, he had enough and his body gave up, everything went black.
It wasn't over yet, Canada awoke another time, this time outside in the snow. He opened his blank eyes and stared up, nothing but black sky, pure white snow falling from it. His entire body felt cold, he still felt like he couldn't breathe too. Slowly he sat up and looked around, nothing but the blank snow for miles around, nothing at all. Cold breezes passed him as he slowly got to his feet. He came here a lot, he knew this blank place, he hated this place.
Matthew... The voices would start over again, Winter would repeat everything, every painful statement someone said to him. He knew what came after that too, the images would be next. Canada started covering his ears before Winter could start the voices, it didn't work though, the voices still came through. You're useless, I don't know you, I don't care for you, you're alone, who are you, you'll be one of my states, you'll always be under my rule, you're naïve, you can't do this, you can't do that, you're just a child, echoed and echoed, they became louder and more harsh, he could remember each statement being told to him. How everything, everybody, looked down on him, only and only if they could remember him. You're all alone.
He sat back down in the snow and tightly covered his ears, the voices still came through. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about it. Everyone ignoring him, never knowing him, always forgetting him, that was the thing that killed him the most. Memories he didn't want to remember, France loosing him, England ignoring him, America fighting him, the wars were always horrible, they weren't as bad compared to other nations, but for him it still hurt, loneliness hurt.
He opened his eyes a bit to see if Winter had stopped yet, instead he stood right in front of the boy, staring at him. Canada jumped and fell back into the snow. "Matthew." He heard Winter say. "Why are you sitting in blood huh?" Canada blinked. Blood? What.... He looked down and jumped away, the snow was crimson a few feet around him, like something had just died. Canada's eyes widen and he shook as he heard Winter's terrifying laughter, quiet but evil.
Canada's heart began pounding, his chest started aching, breathing became difficult, his head felt like it was going to explode. He fell back into the snow and held onto his head as Winter sat down next to him. "L-Leave me a-alone." Canada said with a shaky voice.
"Matthew. I haven't seen you in so long." Winter reached for the boy.
OOO
"So you don't think he's sick?" Russia asked. Ukraine continued to check the sleeping Canadian's temperature as he stayed silent and still with a twitch every now and then.
"I don't think so. He doesn't seem to have a fever... If anything, he feels very cold." Ukraine took away her hand and looked toward Russia. "Do you have an extra blanket?"
"Da. I'll go get it." Russia said. Ukraine gave a nod as Russia left to go search. Ukraine sighed and sat on the bed. She glanced over at Canada.
"At least he called me to help." She said to herself. Russia quickly came back with an extra blanket and handed it to Ukraine. She then laid the second blanket over the boy. "He just passed out you said?"
"Da."
"Strange." Ukraine said. "Russia. You don't mind if I stay the night do you?"
"I do not mind." Russia said quietly. "You can help me with him right?"
"Of course." Ukraine gave a reassuring smile. "Matthew is my friend as well. I'll take care of him."
"As well? He's not my friend."
"Hm? But you two are getting along so well."
"We are not friends Ukraine." Russia said stubbornly. Ukraine sighed and shrugged a bit.
"Alright. I'm sorry." she said. "I'll be going to bed then and I'll check on Matthew in the morning."
"Da. Good night then..." He said. He hesitated a bit but then said "Thank you." Ukraine smiled at Russia before walking out to her room for the night.
Russia stood there in silence for a moment. He walked over to the chair by the bed and sat down, then more silence. It felt weird for him to see the Canadian but not hear him talking, not that he heard him anyway. Still, it seemed to be too quiet for him, though he liked the silence. He looked toward the boy, he barely moved during all of this, no movement but small eye or finger twitches, that was all. Kumajirou sat on the side of him, the bear's head resting on the boy's stomach, sleeping soundly, though he was worried. For some reason, Russia was worried too. He sat back in his chair and rested a bit, even falling asleep, hoping that morning would be a bit better.
OOOOOOO
Thank you~
First off, this is influenced by "Giving In" By Artificial. We did talk it over and the author has given me permission to start it like this.
Sigh, a little rushed. I'm sorry : (
But yea, basically.... Yeah.... Winter tortures poor Mattie :/ I was gonna add more to that but I forgot by the time I got to my laptop sooo.... Boo....
Translations:
French:
Cauchemar: Nightmare