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Giving In	By : Artificial_Starlight Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1852 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia, nor the characters withing. I make no money from the writings I produce

Chapter List
- 1-Hot
- 2-Cold
- 3-Here
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter 2: Холод: Cold

For the next ten minutes Matthew and Ivan waited in silence. Every once in a while, Canada would get the courage to wipe Ivan's face and neck with the cool towel or check the wound on his arm. If he stayed for too long though, Ivan would snap at him and Matthew would make a hasty retreat.

Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door and Matthew got up to answer, looking through the peek hole to make sure it was America (because if it was anyone else who knew that this was indeed not his room, but Russia's, there would be a lot of questions). He opened the heavy door with a slight smile, "Hey Al."

"Mattie," The younger brother was pulled into a hug. "Why didn't you tell me sooner that you were sick?"

"It came out of nowhere, really. But I'm alright, a little recession I'm sure."

Alfred released him, putting a hand to his forehead. "Well, you're not running a fever. You know, Arthur and Francis didn't show up to the dinner either. Apparently, England got worse. France is probably having his wicked way with his sick, defenseless body as we speak."

"Alfred!"

"What?"

"I really don't want to hear that."

The American snickered. "Anyway," He held up a large plastic bag. "Two Stir-fry spicy beef stuff… I don't know what it's called, but it's really good!"

Smiling, Matthew took the food. "Thanks Al. And um… don't tell papa that I'm not feeling good, please. I really don't want him to worry over nothing."

"No problem, but if you need anything, tell me. I'll be your hero Mattie! Like Superman, or Batman- but he doesn't have any superpowers… he's still kickass though! I can be Spiderman or my all time favorite Captain America! That's such an awesome name don'tcha think?"

"Bye, Alfred," Matthew replied, shutting the door with a roll of his eyes. Traveling back to the bed he saw Ivan's stare; a thin eyebrow rising as if to ask, 'just what was that?' and Matthew couldn't help but laugh embarrassedly. "He'll always go off on a tangent like that." Clearing his throat, he looked through the bag and pulled out two Styrofoam boxes. He gave one to Ivan along with a pair of packaged chop sticks and sat the other one down on the desk for himself. "Um… I was thinking." Ivan glanced up from his upright position, snapping apart the utensils and ready to eat. "Have you spoken to your boss about the economy? Is he doing something about it?"

"Of course, Medvedev has been working on this for a while. The oil is good, trade is good, and the battle with Georgia is nothing, but luck is not there, da? And your brother does not make it better."

"Oh… Yeah, I don't suppose he would." Covering his mouth, Matthew felt a short few coughs tear through his throat and he went to the bathroom to refill two glasses of water. When he returned he was faced with another of Ivan's strange expressions. Was it Curiosity?

"You don't seem very healthy either, Matvey."

Blushing from embarrassment, Matthew handed a glass of water to the Russian before taking his place at the desk chair, opening his own food as his stomach growled. "I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't feeling well. But things aren't very bad, just a little trouble." He took a few bites of his meal, praising the taste before continuing. "In 2008 I was really sick; Alfred and I both. But the housing market is slowly recovering and the Auto-industry is getting used to some changes. I think it's the banks that are getting to me; they're still in need of bail." He sighed, "My banks were some of the most stable in the world too."

Ivan said nothing as the two ate in silence and Matthew was thankful. Rising from his chair after he was finished, he cleaned up his mess and threw the empty box in the garbage bin. "I'm going to get Kumatachi's food, so um… Can I borrow your card key?"

"I'm not going to get rid of you?"

"Not yet," The Canadian felt good about helping the man, despite his rude and scary demeanor. It just wasn't in him to abandon someone who could use the help.

Those cold violet eyes locked with his and Matthew's determination was hard pressed to stay. "It is in my coat pocket." Turning to the fallen clothing, Matthew picked it up and rifled through it, surprised to find a full bottle of vodka and a rough brown, leather wallet. He was about to set the vodka down on the desk when Ivan spoke, "Give that to me."

"It's not really healthy to-"

"Comrade Matvey, I was not asking."

Slightly miffed, he draped the coat onto the back of the desk chair, the scarf soon joined it. Almost stomping back to the Russian, he handed both the bottle of alcohol and the wallet to him. It was obvious that the man took delight in his annoyance, for a creepy smile of satisfaction crossed his face as he twisted the cap off and brought the bottle to his lips, taking huge swigs. By the time he was finished almost one-third of a full liter of vodka was gone. Matthew could only gape. "Your people are going to die of liver failure."

"Нет, they have always been fine. It is Russian water, remember?"

"If you say so," Canada muttered. Ivan opened his wallet, took out the card key and handed it over with a glare.

"Be quick."

"O-oui. Stay here Kumaro," Quickly leaving the room, he traveled the empty hall at a fast pace, getting his own cardkey from his pocket. He opened the door and fretted about, pulling out the brown package that held his friend's dinner. He took a change of clothes out of his bag as well, removing the ones he had on to fit into some that were more comfortable; blue jeans and his most trusted red hoodie. After all, he would be taking care of Ivan for a couple more hours and it was already late. Tomorrow he would have to be sure to tell Ukraine about her brother's health. He wondered if she already knew, they were close, but if so, why hadn't she been over to watch him?

Canada's relations with Ukraine were very good, if he was to be so bold to say; they were friends. And with the woman's caring personality, it was clear that she cared very much for her little brother. She said only the highest of praises and had a lot of respect for Russia, despite her independence after the separation of the USSR. He had no doubt that she would be at her brother's side if she knew about his sickness. So that meant Russia had been hiding it from her. Hiding it from everyone apparently, He thought dryly. Well, he certainly has a lot of enemies, so it would be wise not to broadcast his weakened economy, but it could also be dangerous. If things get much worse, it would help a lot more if he had support. Ukraine would easily agree to that.

And his process of thought stopped as he realized just what that would entail. Russia obviously wants to pull out of this himself, without support from anyone. He is very prideful, after all.

Shaking his head in sympathy, Matthew sighed and sorted through his options. If Russia didn't get better, what could he do? Besides the obvious of just handing out bail money… he could call Harper; maybe if their bosses got together, they could figure something out. Russia wouldn't agree with that. And I don't want to sound like I'm giving him charity money. He'd be absolutely furious.

Deciding to forget about it for now, he hurriedly threw his worn clothes into the bag before leaving the room and casually walking back to Ivan's. Nothing changed, he found. Kumajirou still lying on the bed, he looked to be sleeping but woke up quickly when he came in; most likely anticipating his meal. Ivan himself remained where he was left; sitting up against the headboard of the bed, violet eyes watching him carefully. The vodka bottle looked even emptier than before.

He gave the cardkey back first, avoiding the Russian's eyes as he leaned down to Kumajirou, unwrapping his dinner. "When we get home I'll buy you some seal. I know you don't particularly like fish."

"Good."

Smiling affectionately, Matthew sat the four fish down on the floor watching his friend eat them in just a few bites. "He is not a normal bear, da?" Ivan asked.

"No, he's like us. I've been with him for as long as I can remember; before I was a colony."

"Family," Kumajirou mumbled around his food, and Matthew nodded happily, agreeing with all his being. The others forgot about him; his papa, England, even his brother, but not Kumajirou. They might not remember each other's name, but they've always had a connection.

He was suddenly reminded about Russia's family and he looked up at said nation, "You should tell your sister," He said softly, not wanting to make him angry. "She'd be worried if she knew-"

"That's exactly why I don't want her to know. She would never leave me alone."

"Only because she cares, she talks about you a lot, you know."

Ivan took a moment to let the words sink in before looking directly at the Canadian. "What does she say?"

Smiling sadly, Matthew made eye contact, "You've helped her a lot over the swine flu panic. As her little brother, your words were a lot more meaningful than mine. She was really, very worried about it; the financial crisis, elections, and the sickness. I sent lots of support as well, but I think your boss's speech did so much more." He paused, seeing the blank expression on Ivan's face. "She has a lot of respect for you, and I think she worries about you a lot."

"Da. She does."

Leaving it at that, Matthew cleaned up Kumajirou's carcasses and threw them away. He sat down on the desk chair with the bear on his lap, picking up the TV remote nearby. "Let's watch some news, eh?"

"The Russian channel is 610, perhaps they will show a change in the charts, da."

"Okay," Putting it on the specified program, Matthew watched by vision alone as he couldn't understand anything that was said. Ivan's attention remained on the television, and every once in a while he would switch between taking a swig of the vodka in his hand or cough with what sounded like rough sandpaper scraping the back of his throat.

Matthew would twitch at the sound and debate on whether he should check the man's fever or not. The towel was still on the Russian's forehead, probably dry and useless by now, but Matthew forced himself to stay seated. With the way Ivan glared at the screen it was clear that he did not like what was being said and the waves of murderous rage was enough to keep the Canadian very still and quiet, hoping that his 'great superpower of invisibility' (he was too influenced by Alfred) would work when he wanted it to.

Time went by and Matthew's concentration was broken by a yawn. He wasn't so focused on the TV anymore, and he had long tried to avoid the psychotic man on the bed who he was afraid would go on a rampage sometime soon. Very slowly, his eyes closed, his head leaned back on the chair. It wasn't very comfortable, but with his own body aching and his stuffy head yelling at him to sleep, it wasn't very hard to obey.

…oOo…

The first thing he realized upon waking was the pounding of his head; a steady rhythm of banging that he just wanted to stop before his skull cracked. Opening his eyes, he hissed as the light made it even worse, but he recognized where he was and he also found out firsthand how the hotel provided desk chairs were not meant to be slept in. His neck cricked as he lifted it up and the room spun. His back seemed permanently hunched over and he stood up from the position to stretch, noticing more aches and pains and just adding them to the list.

He looked around, finding Kumajirou curled up on the bed near Ivan's head, stealing some of the pillows. He would have smiled, because for a second, it seemed so cute and it was really just like his friend to abandon all pretences and sleep wherever was the most comfortable. But the Russian's expression took away all humor from the situation.

He was still sleeping, but fitfully; sweat made his skin glisten and his hair was plastered to his face and neck which were rosy with heat. Covered in the thick blankets, Ivan had curled in on himself to keep the heat in his body, something that wasn't helping seeing as his massive frame shook with fever-induced shivers.

Matthew jumped into action, refilling the bowl of still water from the night before with cool, fresh water, and grabbing a new towel. He tore the covers away from the nation which was replied with a groan and started to wipe his face down. Sighing when he felt the heat radiating from the Russian's body he thought of what he could do; simply using a towel was not helping, he needed a cool bath. That would certainly do the trick, but not only could he not lift the giant nation, but he was afraid of impalement once the man woke up.

He practically jumped a few feet in the air when a knock sounded at the door. Oh no, what do I do?

"Брат," A voice called, and Matthew recognized it to be Russian for brother, Ukraine! "Are you there? We were supposed to have breakfast, remember?"

Looking from the door to the prone man on the bed, he wondered if it was worth it to go against what Ivan had said last night and tell Katyusha about his state. She could definitely help him get his fever down. He made a split second decision and ran to the door, opening it with a deep breath to face a mightily surprised Ukraine.

"Oh… Matvey. What are you doing in братской room?"

Rushing to explain (because one could jump to plenty of conclusions), he blushed in embarrassment, "He's sick. I found him yesterday and he didn't look very well at all so I stayed. But his fever is back and I can't get it down. Can you help me?"

There was no hesitation and Matthew could see fear in her eyes as she dashed past him and into the room. Together they sat him up and half carried half dragged him into the small bathroom. Matthew turned on the faucet at a low temperature, not cold but definitely not hot as Katyusha struggled to get her brother unclothed.

Ivan mumbled something and Katyusha spoke to him in low, comforting tones as she and Matthew each took a side. Wrapping his arms around Ivan's torso, Matthew looked to Ukraine who hugged Russia's legs. Hoisting him up and over the edge of the tub, they set him down in the water much to his distress.

"Холодно!"

Cold, he took a towel and brushed the Russian's brow. "Désolé. You'll be alright."

"G-General Winter… found m-me."

"Non, it'll be over soon."

Katyusha spoke again in their shared language and Ivan seemed to comprehend because he gave a slight nod. They had a short conversation and Matthew suddenly realized what he was doing, and with who. I'm taking care of Russia, of all people, sitting next to him while he's bathing! Nervous, and blushing as hard as a tomato, Canada turned to Ukraine. "I-I'm going to wait outside. Tell me when you want me to h-help him out."

She nodded and gave a little smile despite the obvious concern that took over her face. "Thank you Matvey. And could you do me a favor?" He waited expectantly, "Could you possibly help pack? I think it best if I take him home. We had separate flights but, at this state I believe I should stay with him."

Happy to oblige, Matthew walked out and shut the bathroom door behind him. Packing certainly gave him a chance to sort out his thoughts and he wondered what else he could do to help. Picking up his cell phone, he dialed a number he knew well, waiting for the other person to pick up. "Harper speaking, is that you Matthew?"

"Y-yes, um… Something came up and I wanted to say that I may not be back for a couple more days."

"Oh? What's holding you back?"

"Y-you see sir, Russia isn't doing so well. And I was going to help Ukraine support him."

There was silence on the other line, then a disbelieving "What?"

"We can help stabilize Russia's economy, eh- sir. I mean, if you spoke to Medvedev, I'm sure-"

"We have our own problems to worry about, Canada."

"I-I know but… We're on good relations with Russia."

"Good as in, hardly there, yes."

Canada frowned, "We're both in G8, we're the most Northern nations, we both have arctic climates, and I thought we were working on an Intergovernmental Economic Commission. Wouldn't now be the best time to help?"

There was a sigh on the other line, and something that sounded like a shuffle of papers, "I'll contact Medvedev and see what we can do."

"Okay, thank you."

"Just keep in contact."

The line went dead, and Matthew knew his boss was aggravated but he was also happy that his government would send support. Even though they weren't exactly seeing eye-to-eye lately, Harper could be trusted with this; there was no doubt that he could handle things.

Continuing to pack, Matthew sat everything neatly by the bed and grabbed Ivan's cardkey from the bedside table. "Stay here," he told Kumajirou. "If Katyusha comes out tell her I'm getting my stuff. I won't be long."

Opening the door, he peered out into the hallway, looking both ways to make sure it was clear before rushing out. In his own room, he picked up his bags, thanking the heavens that he had the foresight to pack yesterday. He took a moment to brush his teeth and brush his hair before gathering everything up and stepping out of his room.

"Ah, America!"

Knowing he was being spoken to, even if he wasn't America, he glanced up and hesitantly smiled at Francis as he came over. "I'm Canada, papa."

His blue eyes widened and a bright smile came across his face, "I knew that, mon chéri." An arm draped over his shoulders. "Now, why don't we go get some breakfast? Arthur and Alfred are coming!"

"N-no thank you, I'm about to leave." He held up his suitcase for emphasis and shyly moved out from under France's arm. "Got a plane to catch," He lied. His cheeks grew red and he averted his eyes; he really was a bad liar, but he hoped Francis wouldn't catch on, for once. If France knew what he was doing… well, he wouldn't necessarily care, but he would tell Arthur and Alfred and they would more than care.

"Are you sure? Why so soon? Spend time with your dear père!" That innocent smile was gone and an almost lecherous grin replaced it, which kind of scared Matthew. The look on Francis's face usually ended up with someone's vital regions seized reminiscent of one Gilbert Weillschmidt. Or Spain… or even South Korea. So many nations were grope-happy it was insane. Imperialism gets the better of all of us, I suppose. It was the nation's equivalent to hormones.

"Désolé, papa, but I really must go," He said, backing away slowly. "Um… My best wishes to Arthur, I hope he gets well soon."

"Oui, if you're sure. And I'll be sure to tell L'Angleterre. Papa will miss you," And with a wave, Matthew turned around and speed-walked down the hallway, looking over his shoulder as Francis did the same. As the nation who colonized him turned the corner down the hall, Canada opened Russia's door and stepped inside with haste. "Katyusha, is everything okay?"

"Yes, Matvey, we're fine. I think he's ready to get out now," She said from behind the bathroom door, and Matthew set his bags down to help. Walking into the bathroom, he froze in fear as Ivan's eyes bore into his own. The Russian must certainly be feeling better if he was able to produce so much hatred by just making eye contact. "Help him stand and I'll dry him off."

It took a second for Canada to get control of his legs as he stumbled closer to his death. Slowly, he extended his hand, slightly proud of himself for not so much as flinching when Ivan took it in his grasp. The hand was so much bigger than his own and though the Russian was obviously still weak, the pressure built enough to which Matthew knew there would be bruises tomorrow. Coupled with the discolored marks on his wrists from last night, his right arm would be black and blue by the end of the day.

Despite the pain from his hand, Matthew pulled Russia up so he could stand, helping him step out of the tub as Katyusha came forth with a big fluffy towel. She was quick to dry him off, as he was still shivering slightly. Together, they got him dressed, Matthew touching as little of the man as possible, and careful to keep his eyes above waist line for privacy.

The entire time, he was more than aware of violet eyes watching his every move. Each second of silence built up his fear and he imagined how he would die. Burned alive, tortured, impaled, his eyes ripped out, his hands cut off, whipped, scarred, starved, alone…

"A-alright," His voice was much quieter than even he was used to, and it wavered at the end. Ivan and Katyusha didn't seem to hear. Ugh, pull yourself together! You're the second largest country, you're trying to help, and you're strong! He cleared his throat and put on a front of determination, "So, should I call a cab?"

"Yes please," Katyusha replied. And Matthew did so on his phone quickly, speaking what little Chinese he could. That done, they gathered their stuff, Katyusha noticing his there as well, "You are coming with us?"

"Yes. I figured I'd help you get him home." From over Ukraine's shoulder, Ivan gave him a heated glare that sent shivers of terror down Matthew's spine. He coughed, trying to hide it.

"That's great Matvey! Thank you!"

Ivan growled when they came near him and stood up on his own. "I'll walk myself."

"Брат, don't strain yourself-"

"I won't," He interrupted her. Noticeably, his gaze was a bit softer as he looked at her, his eyes not holding the same threat they did when directed at Canada, but his tone left no room for argument, and Ukraine nodded, worried.

He might've be walking on his own, but Canada wouldn't let him carry his own suitcase as he slung his bag over his shoulder, carrying the other in his left hand. They traveled out of the room, waited achingly in the elevator and journeyed to the lobby, where Ukraine headed to the concierge desk with all their cardkeys to check out. Immediately after his sister was out of ear shot, Ivan's hand came down on his right shoulder (it was always the right!). And once again, the force that left bruises was applied and Matthew couldn't help but squeak.

"I told you to keep quiet about me being sick. You told her," His voice was in a deadly whisper, calmly stating how he was very displeased with Matthew at the moment.

Canada turned his head slightly, but didn't look at Russia's face, "I didn't know what else to do, and you were practically catatonic. I needed to cool you down; your fever was dangerously high. And I couldn't very well move you by myself! She knocked on the door and… She should have known anyway."

The hand squeezed even tighter, he was definitely angry as all hell, and Matthew was sure he was going to die very, very soon. But then Ukraine turned around and the hand was gone along with the vibes of murder that had been suffocating Canada, almost like they were never there. "We'll speak of this later."

Why do I have to be so nice all the time? I wouldn't be in this mess if I had just left him alone like he asked, I'm so stupid.

Matthew calmly picked up the luggage and followed Ukraine out the door to the yellow cab waiting for them outside.

The ride was tense and quiet all the way to the nearest airport and Ivan kept swaying in between them, looking motion sick and firmly ignoring their questions of whether they should stop or not. Even when they arrived, bought their tickets, went through security and the dreadful waiting that took up a total of three hours, Ivan remained stubbornly quiet and grew quite hostile if provoked, like a wild animal.

And, of course, the airport security officers wanted to give Matthew hell for bringing a polar bear on the plane. He showed them the papers, they made calls, they believed everything was legal and authentic, and yet they had a fit about proper protocols of having a leash or putting him in a traveling cage.

Canada would have none of it, and by the time the third hour of waiting rolled around, he snapped. "Look, you have your papers! They says it's perfectly fine for him to be on the plane with me. He doesn't need a leash and if you dare to try and put him in a cage you'll be in big trouble. Now don't you have a job to do? Stop bothering me!"

They scurried off and Katyusha laughed in surprise. "So even Canada can get angry?"

Blushing in embarrassment, he mumbled something they couldn't hear, holding Kumajirou close to his chest. Their plane finally arrived and they boarded with relief. Only after they got settled in, did Matthew realize that he had never been to Russia. His boss had of course, but not him.

Fiddling with Kumajirou's ear nervously, he wondered again just what he had gotten himself into. Here he was, with Russia (who was going to kill him, he was sure), spending a few days on his land, taking care of him while he was sick… already his whole right arm was sore; if the Russian abused it anymore it would be next to useless. Not to mention, Matthew was sick himself. And nobody but Harper knew where he was… nobody would know if he was kidnapped, chopped into little pieces and buried in Ivan's backyard.

He was scaring himself, Ivan was frightening as all hell, but they were both nations, he was safe, right? Looking to the man next to him, he jumped when Ivan's eyes locked with his. Their eyes had similar colors, he realized; a purple-fuchsia hue. The only difference… well, Ivan had the eyes of a bloodthirsty criminal. And his next victim was sadly Matthew himself.

...Thank You…

Translations:

Брат (Russian): Brother

Братской (Russian): Brother's

Холодно (Russian): It's cold

Désolé (French): Sorry

Non (French): No

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or anything else copyrighted that I may have mentioned. I make no money from this.

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