Just keep running. It was a simple as that, just keep running, don't slow down, don't turn back, just keep running; save yourself, and get as far away as possible! Matthew was breathless, and his legs were on fire with strain, but he had to keep going. He thought he was far enough away, thought he had put enough distance between himself and the other soldiers. He climbed up a tree just to be sure, and rested for a moment. His lungs burned every time he took a breath, and he struggled to swallow.

"You shouldn't have stopped running…" A cold voice, filled with amusement, said from behind. Matthew tensed as he craned his neck to see where the voice was coming from, and who it belonged to. Matthew's pale violet eyes were wide with horror as another set of violets stared into his own. The tall figure, masked by the darkness, wore a bloodied smile, and at his side, a bloody sword dangled.

"S-Stay away from me you monster!" Matthew screamed as he scrambled to stand on the branch. A low chuckle escaped the figure's mouth.
"Oh, I'M the monster? This coming from the boy who single handedly destroyed and overran three countries, and made his way into a fourth. Burning down all those towns, destroying resources…Heh, yes, truly I am the monster." The figure raised the sword into the air. "No matter, it'll all be over in a moment." He brought the sword down and everything went black and red.

"Mattie! Mattie wake up, it's just a dream!" Alfred was sitting on Matthew, shaking his shoulders desperately. Matthew's eyes flew open as he gasped for air, tears soaking his cheeks and pillows. Alfred sighed in relief and relaxed. "Dude, are you alright? I could hear you screaming from downstairs…" Alfred got off and set next to his younger brother on the bed, running his hand through Matthew's damp hair.

Matthew shuddered at the memory and sat up, sighing. He couldn't remember most of the dream, all he could remember was violet eyes, a bone-chilling laugh, and the immense pain he felt at the end of the dream. He let his head fall into his hands, trying to calm himself down. Alfred rubbed his back, looking terribly worried. "Bro…?" Matthew shook his head and stood, walking out of the room without a word. Alfred sighed and looked down with saddened eyes; this was the third time this week alone his brother had woken up screaming, and Alfred had no idea how the hell to get the nightmares to stop. This one seemed especially bad. Alfred sighed again and followed Matthew down the stairs.

"I don't want to talk about it Al." Matthew muttered when they were both sitting at the table, Matthew eating breakfast and Alfred watching him intently. He looked up at Alfred over the rim of his glasses, and rolled his eyes, sighing. "Oh for God's sake! If I tell you, will you stop watching me like that?" Alfred nodded frantically. Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose; he knew that his brother meant well, but he could be so irritating sometimes.

"Alright…I can't remember most of the dream, but it's almost the same as all the others..." Matthew started as he racked his brain for the details. "It was another war, and I was running through a forest, I think. I was being chased or something and I thought I had lost whoever was chasing me; I just had to stop, I couldn't keep running. I climbed up a tree and sat on a branch, resting and catching my breath, and then He appeared." Matthew stopped and looked over at Alfred, who furrowed his brow.

"Is it the same guy in every dream? The one with the violet eyes?" Matthew nodded and Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Go on. You were sitting on the branch…" Matthew nodded again and looked out the window, his chin resting on his palm.

"Well, He appeared, sword dangling from his hand. His mouth and the sword were stained with blood and he simply laughed, saying I should've kept running." Matthew furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of his dream. "And then he said something about me being a monster, about how the war in my dream was my fault…" He shrugged and turned to his brother, who was looking at him with intensity. "What? It's not that big of a deal, okay? Just a dream…" Matthew shrugged again and picked up his bowl of half eaten cereal, and stood, dumping the remains into the sink.

"…Clearly it is a big deal Matt. You've been having these dreams for months now, always the same setting, always the same guy." Alfred stood and took Matthew's hands, pressing his forehead to his brother's. Matthew blushed at Alfred's proximity.

"I-It's not a big deal…Worse comes to worse, I talk to Arthur and ask his opinion…" Matthew mumbled. Alfred sighed and pushed the hair from Matthew's face, resting his lips on his brother's temple. Matthew closed his eyes, his mind wandering. His older brother's breath was warm against his forehead.

"I won't let anyone hurt you Mattie…I'm your big brother, I'll always protect you…" Alfred whispered against Matthew's soft skin as he wrapped his arms around his brother in a protective embrace. Alfred's lips caressed Matthew's soft, baby-skinned cheek, but he pulled away.

"N-No…I already told you not to do that…" Matthew was bright red, but Alfred pulled him back, connecting their lips. Matthew tried to protest, but eventually gave up and let his brother kiss him. This shouldn't be happening…we're brothers! He thought to himself. His hands clenched in Alfred's shirt, tears streaking down his face as the elder pulled away. Both of them were flushed red and Matthew's glasses had fogged up from the tears. Alfred smiled sadly and wiped the tears away with his thumb.

"I'm so sorry Mattie…I didn't mean to make you cry…" He kissed Matthew's forehead apologetically as he pulled away and went back upstairs. Matthew trembled as he attempted to do the dishes. So many things ran through his mind at once as he worked. Why did Alfred insist on kissing him like that? They were brothers! Who was the man in his dreams? He seemed terribly familiar, but Matthew just couldn't place him. Those violet eyes were embroidered in his memory, and no matter how many times he tried to think of something else, their spectacular color popped back in his mind. He sighed and set the plates down, staring aimlessly out the window. Why wouldn't those beautiful eyes leave him alone?

.:.

"You seem preoccupied Mon Petite Matthieu… Is everything alright?" Francis had a quizzical look on his face, implying that he knew something was wrong. Matthew faked a reassuring smile and shook his head.

"I'm alright, don't worry. I've just been tired lately." Francis studied his former 'son' carefully and sighed.

"Fine, don't tell me then, but I'm all ears if you want to talk." Francis whispered as the meeting started. Matthew sighed and laid his head down on the table. His violet eyes were darker than normal, and this change was only emphasized by the dark circles under that had formed. His eyelids fluttered closed and he slowly sank into unconsciousness.

.:.

Matthew's legs burned from strain and fire, black smoke filled his lungs, making it harder to breathe. Every intake of breath was like a million needles puncturing his organs. He was incredibly fast, but no matter how hard his feet hit the ground, he just couldn't seem to outrun the fire that surrounded the forest. Just keep running Matthew! Just keep running!

A sudden tree-root stuck its way into Matthew's path, and brought him down hard. His glasses shattered, and the tiny amount of breath actually in him flew out with a whoosh! He felt a warm liquid rise in his throat and dribble down his mouth. He heard the crunching of leaves, and the same horrid laughter.

"Poor Mattvey, you seem so tired. Why don't you stop running, da? After all, you must be fed up with all this fighting…" The same man from before stepped beside Matthew's body, leaning down and stroking Matthew's blood covered hair. His violet eyes had specks of red flicked through them, and Matthew could make out his body shape in the intense moonlight. He had a thick, Russian accent, and once again, Matthew was on the verge of remembering, as if there was a memory stored deep within him trying to bust through his mind.

"Why do you keep doing this to me? Every night, the same thing…" The Russian's smile was much more loving than other nights, but the glint of humor in his eyes made Matthew flinch. To Matthew's bitter surprise, the man's touch was warm and loving as it stroked Matthew's coarse, cracked skin.

"There's no need to worry anymore, it'll all be over soon…" Matthew barely had time to furrow his eyebrows before a sword was shoved through his chest. Blood spurted from his mouth as everything around him went black. The last thing he saw, or thought he saw, was a single tears fall from those beautiful Violet eyes.

"Matthieu! Matthieu, wake up!" A soft voice filtered through his mind, though it seemed muffled. He felt someone or something shaking his body, but everything felt numb, everything but a piercing pain in his chest. His eyes flew open and he took in a deep breath, coughing harshly as air filled his longs once again. He looked around, trying to understand what had happened. Half of the countries were standing over him, staring at him with curiosity. Francis was over him, shaking his shoulders as he lay in Alfred's arms.

"F-Francis? W…What happened?" Matthew placed his hand to his head, groaning as he sat up. Alfred rubbed his back, looking just as worried as Francis, and they shared a glance. The two picked Matthew up and escorted him out of the room while the others watched, still utterly confused. Once they were out of the room and the door was shut, Francis offered Matthew a bottle of water, which he downed quickly, as though he hadn't drunken anything in months. Once again, Alfred and Francis shared a look.

"Mattie, is there….Is there something wrong with your country? Cause dude, I could totally lend you some help if you need it, but you gotta tell me, Bro!" Alfred's baby blues shone with concern for his younger brother, and Francis's expression matched.

"What are you talking about? There's nothing wrong with my country, or the economy. Why do you ask?" Matthew was confused now, and for the third time, Alfred and Francis shared a glance.

"Mon Petite…You collapsed in there, you weren't breathing. You were out for quite a few minutes. Are you absolutely positive there's nothing wrong?" Francis searched Matthew's pale, fair skinned face with worry, but Matthew attempted a reassuring smile, but it only made Francis more skeptical.

"Look, if there is something wrong, I'm sure my boss will tell me, but as of now, he's said nothing, so clearly there's nothing wrong. If something comes up, you two will be the first to know." With that, Matthew turned on his heel, away from the meeting room, and walked away, feeling much too tired to try to go back in. Alfred sighed and he and Francis went back inside, not saying a word of what happened.

It was already snowing by the time Matthew got outside and headed home, and it seemed the temperature dropped 20 degrees. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, turning the collar up, and trudged through the snow that had already fallen. He wandered around a bit, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what had happened during the meeting. The dreams are becoming reality, he finally determined. And as crazy as it seemed, it wasn't unheard of, but he hoped to the high heavens that his dreams were only dreams, because if they weren't, there was about to be a war, a war that he himself was apparently responsible for.

"It's just a dream Matthew, nothing more. Why would I start a war?" Matthew sighed and shivered again. His pace had begun to slow, and it soon became hard to breathe. "Just a dream…" He'd barely finished the thought when he collapsed in the snow, shivering and unconscious.

Matthew came to a few hours later, his eyes fluttering open. The light was too intense for him to see; all he saw were a pair of eyes. His breathing nearly stopped and his eyes widened. Deep violet irises stared back at him, filled with concern. A warm, soothing hand wiped at his forehead with a wet-rag, but he still couldn't get over the shock. The violet eyes, the same ones he'd been seeing for more than a year, the familiarity of it all, it all made sense now.

"R…Russia…?"