literature

RusCan:Sweet Bliss Chpt. 1

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Mathew ran to the front door and looked around desperately for the keys. Upon finding them, he ran out the door and into his car. He put the keys into the ignition and turned them but the car refused to start.

He gave up and quickly got out of the car. Beads of sweat trickled down his face as he ran in a panic down the dark streets. The moon was full and the night was silent.
He stopped for a moment, stood still and listened intently, hoping that he had lost his pursuer. At first he heard nothing but the pounding of his own heart, his breaths coming in short pants and the echo of his own footsteps.

Then he heard it, at first it was soft and barely audible, but Mathew knew that sound, he knew it anywhere. It was the sound of light footsteps coming his way, and fast. Mathew started running again, this time full out sprinting. But it was no use, his chaser caught up within a block. Mathew felt strong and somewhat feminine arms wrap themselves around him and pull him back towards their owner. "Pour quoi Mon cher fils. Pour quoi courez-vous de moi?" came a familiar french voice.

Mathew sighed in relief, it was his Papa, Francis, or as he was also known as, France. "Je suis désolé Papa.  Je ne savais pas que c'était vous." He answered the Frenchman easily in french. "I was scared and ran. Papa it was so scary, I thought that Mon monstre l'enfance, was after me"

"There is no need to worry yourself, ma chère. I am here and you are safe." Mathew settled back comfortably into France's arms. Suddenly there was a sharp pain through his back. Mathew could feel something thin and cold quickly pulled from his flesh and realised what had happened and stared up at the Frenchman who had just stabbed a knife through his back.

"Why Papa, why would you do this to me?" he asked in a voice even softer than usual. France looked down at him with tears streaming down his face and regret and grief blossoming in his eyes "Because, Mon garçon précieux, It is what is best for you, for all of us."

The pain in Mathews back grew suddenly worse, then it disappeared, leaving behind a slowly spreading trail of numbness. The numbness of death, Mathew realized. And as he took his final breaths not even the numbness of death could even begin to dull the pain in his heart. His dream ended with the soft noises of France's crying and the sound of his second Papa, Arthur's taunting, cruel and victorious laughter echoing in the background.



Mathew sat straight up in bed and gasped, his breaths coming out in short and shallow pants. A lair of cold sweat covered his trembling body. He patted the bed looking franticly for his pet and companion. "Kumajirou, Kumajirou where are you?!" He cried out, but his voice only came out as its usual soft volume, barely a whisper. He felt something gently nudge his back and he let out a terrified scream and jumped off the bed, landing with a loud *thud*. He felt the gentle nudge again, this time on his arm. This time though he could feel the soft and silky fur brushing up against his skin and instead of frightening him, it soothed him. "Kumajirou, there you are. You scared me little guy." The little polar bear rubbed up against Mathew's arm affectionately and said "Who?". "It's me silly, Canada" Mathew replied and despite himself and his still lingering fright, smiled. "I had that nightmare again, the one about Papa France". The bear let out a quiet growl at the mention of the Frenchman, but continued working his pet magic on Mathew.

"Oh it was awful, Kum. He betrayed me. My own Papa killed me. He gave me up" Mathew said with a sob. "Just like he did in real life." Kumajirou jumped up on Mathew's lap and cuddled up against his chest. Mathew gave another small smile and stroked the little bear, silently thanking whoever was listening for such a comforting and caring pet, even if Kumajirou forgot his name daily. Soon Kumajirou's breathing slowed down and he began to snore softly. Mathew got up and placed the bear on his bed as gently as he could, letting out a content sigh at the sight of the small, sleeping bear. Mathew wanted to get back into bed and cuddle the bear, but he knew that it was too soon after the nightmare for him to even begin to think about sleep. Instead he pulled on a pair of his favourite blue jeans and his red and white maple leaf sweater and went for a walk, he left a note in case by some odd and highly unlikely chance someone came looking for him while he was gone.

Mathew locked the door and set out on his way, his hands shoved in his sweater pockets. He didn't know where he was going, nor did he really care, he just needed to walk and get away from the lonely and sad atmosphere that had consumed his house since the end of World War 2.  

It seemed as though, once again, everyone had forgotten that he even existed. During the war things had looked up a bit, People didn't mistake him for Alfred as much and sometimes they even included him in the plans. Then the war ended and things went back to normal. Everyone started mistaking him for Alfred again or just out right not noticing him. Mathew snorted sarcastically.

"As if I'm even remotely like that loud, obnoxious, rude and completely unforgettable American. Nope, I'm just quiet, peaceful, kind and utterly forgettable Canada. Things never have changed and they never will. I'll always be the one that everyone mistakes for America" Mathew let out a frustrated sigh and continued walking.

Mathew had been walking for a while and had begun to feel a bit tired, so he started searching around for a bus stop or a park or somewhere he could sit down for a little while. About 3 blocks later he spotted a gate entrance to a small park, he went into the park and found a bench to sit on. A few minutes later he was staring up at the moon and thinking when he felt a small but firm tug on his pant leg, he looked down to find a very small and dirty little boy starring up at him. "Well hello there little guy" Mathew said in his soft and gentle voice. "Where did you come from?" he asked. Instead of answering, the little boy demanded to be picked up. "Up!" he said in his cute little childish voice as he stretched his arms up at Mathew. Mathew chuckled "Okay, I get it." He picked up the little boy and set him down beside him on the bench. "Now that we're all settled in, you've got to tell me who you are and where you came from little man." The younger boy looked up at Mathew and smiled. "I'm a run away." As he ended the sentence his smile faded and he looked really sad, his smile returned though when he said "But that's okay, I don't need to live in my daddy's house anyways, all he ever did when he did was be a British jerk of jerks and not play with me."

That struck a nerve and a memory with Mathew. "Wait, hold on a sec. How old are you?" The little boy looked up at him shyly. "I'm only 4 years old, but in a few weeks, I'll be 5 and I'll be a big boy and a big country." "Oh, and who is you Papa?" Mathew asked. "My who?" the little boy asked, sounding confused at the French word. "Ah, right, I forgot, not everyone speaks French. Who's your father?". "Oh, his names Arthur, but sometimes I heard some loud man with a funny and annoying voice call him 'Iggy'." The little boy said the last part and then giggled a bit. Mathew was too stunned to notice though.

"Hey kid?" he asked, his voice coming out sharper than he meant. The boy looked at him with a hint of fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry sir, honestly. I didn't mean to offend you. If I did, I'm really, really sorry." His eyes had begun to tear up. Mathew saw this and quickly tried to calm and reassure the little boy. "No no, it's not like that. I was just wondering. Your father, his name is Arthur right?". "Yes." Mathew took a deep breath preparing for the little boys answer. "Arthur, as in Arthur Kirkland, as in England?". "Yes sir, that's him" Mathew looked at the little boy and smiled sadly. "Well then, I guess some introductions are in order than and maybe an explanation too." The little boy looked up at Mathew curiously. "I've got lots of time sir and I always like a story." Mathew just smiled sadly again. "Well, get comfy kid. I have a feeling we might be here for a while "The little boy shifted so he was facing Mathew and sitting criss-cross. "Okay sir. I'm ready."

"Well first off, I'm Mathew. But I'm also known as Canada. I'm right above that annoying and loud man, Alfred. Who is America. Me and him are half brothers. We both shared a father, just at different times. He's a few years older than me so he moved out before I moved in." The little boy nodded in understanding. "Who was your father?" he asked. "Well, that's the sort of confusing part. You see, I have two dads. One was my father and the other one was my Papa." He thought for a second then added. "Papa is French for father, so can you guess who my other father was?" The little boy seemed to think about this for a moment and then answered "If you call him father in French, then your other father must be Mister France!" Mathew smiled proudly at the little boy. "Yes, I spent most of my childhood with him and then one day, without warning England came and took me away. I spent the rest of my days with him until I became an independent country. Not that he even remembers who I am." He said. The little boy looked up at him with big light blue eyes and gave him a small smile. "It's okay, He does that to me to." He leaned over and gave Mathew a big hug. Mathew found the hug to be very comforting and warm. He hugged the little guy back.

"Kid?" he said suddenly. "Yes?" the boy responded. "Did England ever mention you having an older brother?" the little country thought for a moment. "Yes, he did actually. He said something about a big and cold country across the world that was my big brother, or half brother. He said he didn't remember his name though." Then it struck him. "Hey! Maybe you're the big brother he was talking about! Since he was your dad too." Mathew Smiled. "Yea, I'm sure I'm the one he was talking about." The little country gave Mathew a huge grin and another big, warm hug. "Cool, I've always wanted a big brother." Mathew blushed a bit but hugged the kid back. "Hey, I just realized, do you have anywhere to stay. A home?" The boy looked down. "No, I've been on the streets since I ran off."

Mathew lifted up the boys chin. "Why don't you come live with me? I've got a few rooms you can stay in, I'll even let you pick your favourite one and we can redecorate it just for you. And you can meet my pet polar bear, Kumajirou. He likes to play a lot and I'm sure you guys would get along perfectly." "Okay! Sounds like fun!" the little country replied happily. "Just one last thing." "Sure, what do you need?" "Just your name, I can't go around calling you 'kid' all the time." Mathew said with a smile. "Oh, My Names Peter. It used to be Peter Kirkland, but that's my dad's last name and I don't like it, so I don't use it. I'm also known as Sealand, because that's what country I am." Mathew thought for a moment. "How do you like the last name 'Williams'?" he asked. "Ooo! I like it Mathew. Where did you come up with it?" Mathew laughed. "It's my last name." Then he smiled down at the little country who was now his younger brother.

He scooped him up and put him on his back. "Let's go home, 'Kay?" The young Sealand giggled and then leaned on his new big brothers back. "Okay." Was all he said. They had just left the park when Sealand said "You know what big brother." "What?" "I like the way that sounds, Home, with my big brother." Mathew was touched. He twisted his head a little and kissed the little boy's hand. "I like the way it sounds too, Home with my little brother." Sealand let out a content sigh and closed his eyes. By the time they got back to Mathews home, he was fast asleep. Neither of them noticed the dark, shadowy and tall figure that followed closely behind them.
An Hetalia Fanfiction I wrote. I really love Canada and Russia as a couple( although that part of the story comes later) and I absolutley adore Sealand and feel that he deosn't always get enough love. So I decided to put the 3 of them together in a story and see what I came up with, and this is Chpt. 1 of it.

I will hopefully have chapter 2 out soon.

I in no way own Hetalia (Sadly)or any or the characters and such. The only thing I own is the story itself and the mind behind it.

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Here are the translations:

Pour quoi Mon cher fils. Pour quoi courez-vous de moi?~ Why my dear son. Why do you run from me? (French)

Je suis désolé Papa. Je ne savais pas que c'était vous~ I am sorry Papa. I didn't know it was you. (French)

ma chère~ My Dear. (French)

Mon garçon précieux~ My precious boy. (French).
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pattiXcrona's avatar
I really love this and I was wondering if you are going to continue and all thank you for hi time :squee: