Part dos! Let there be tomatoes of celebration! :D 

Zwei = dos = two = 2! XD

Zwei: Not Bored and Lonely

"Hey, Mattie! Check out this awesome list I made of ways for you to be awesome!"

"Um, okay …"

"Come on, read it!"

"Uh … 'How to be Awesome (by Gilbert Awesome Beilschmidt): One, talk awesomely. Two, act awesomely. Three, think awesomely. Four, make sure everyone knows howawesome you are. Five, eat only awesome foods (like wurst and potatoes.) Gil, uh …"

"What? Is my list not the most awesome thing you've ever read?"

"Well … you can't really define something by using the word you're trying to define in its definition."

"Huh? You're confusing The Awesome Me."

"It's just … well … uh …"

"What?"

"Oh, never mind."

"Then, we can move on to our first awesome lesson about how to be awesome! Okay, so, to talk awesomely, you have to talk in a way that's really awesome. Like, use the wordawesome as much as possible, refer to yourself as The Awesome Me, and constantly remind everyone else how awesome you are and how awesome everything you do or say is. Mattie, are you writing this down?"

Thus began Mattie's long and grueling training.

The very first thing the Canadian learned was that his teacher was, in fact, a horrible teacher. He had zero ability to explain things. When asked how to be awesome, his answer was, "Be awesome, duh!" When told that that made no sense, his reply was, "It doesn't matter if it makes sense or not, because The Awesome Me thought of it, which makes itawesome!" He had no patience and would give up on attempting to teach Matthew something after five minutes. He was easily bored and distracted, and would often call off a "lesson" to point out a weirdly shape cloud or describe an elaborate plot he planned on using to humiliate Austria.

As a combination of these unfortunate things, by the end of two weeks of Awesome Lessons, Matthew had learned practically nothing. Not even observing Gilbert during the lesson taught him anything; there was no pattern or reason for how the Prussian acted, talked, and thought except for an endless repetition of the word "awesome."

Yet, for some reason the Canadian was still enjoying his lessons. Maybe it was Prussia's hilarious jokes and antics; maybe it was his beautiful grin when he found something he liked; maybe it was that body that Canada found himself staring at when Gilbert wasn't looking; maybe it was just the presence of someone else in his house that actually recognized Matthew for who he was; maybe it was a combination of all four; maybe it was something else altogether; but something about those lessons made Canada actually eager to wake up in the morning for the first time in decades.

The very first thing the Prussian learned was that his pupil didn't have any self-confidence whatsoever. Matthew wanted to be confident, arrogant, noticeable, all the good qualities that came with awesomeness. The problem with that was that the Canadian was exactly the opposite of all of those things and Prussia had no idea how to teach him how to solve that. Personality traits weren't just clothes one could pick out of a box and try on, after all. In order to change one's personality, one had to work at it. And, well, Gilbert had never had to work at being awesome. He'd been born awesome. How does someone who's always been awesome by just being awesome teach someone who's never been awesometo be awesome? Prussia had no idea.

Thus, it turned out that the one who learned the most from the Awesome Lessons was Gilbert.

During those lessons, Prussia realized that there was a reason nobody wanted to have him around anymore: even though he was awesome, he was also rude, obnoxious, and annoying. Canada was none of those things. So, Prussia started to watch. He learned simple things, like saying "Please" and "Thank you." He learned more complicated things, like how to make someone feel respected. He learned things he had never thought he needed to know before, like how to apologize when he did something wrong.

He also learned that, even though Matthew was quiet, shy, invisible, and not confident, he was polite, kind, generous, and caring.

Which, in Gilbert's opinion, made the Canadian pretty fucking awesome.

It was the World Meeting time again, and even though Spain was hosting, he'd been too "preoccupied with national affairs" (which everyone knew translated to "busy making love to Romano") to actually plan the meeting, so the actual running of the meeting fell to Germany. Again. Because Germany was actually a pretty nice person, he let his brother attend the meeting even though Prussia technically wasn't a country any more. That explained how the Prussian came to be invading Canada's hotel room the night before the meeting. Well, not invading so much as visiting. (It's not really an invasion when the person you're invading lets you in, after all. But Prussia liked to call it invading, because that sounded so much moreawesome.)

Gilbert lay sprawled on the bed with his laptop, sniggering at an elaborate, horrible, violent, and very awesome (in his opinion) Austria/Hungary fan fiction he'd written involving blood, guts, bombs, guns, tanks, cake, and the death of Mozart. Matthew was trying (and failing) to convince Gilbird to not roost in his hair.

"Hey, Mattie?" Prussia said suddenly.

"Oui?" Canada answered, letting Gilbird stay momentarily.

"For the meeting tomorrow, I got West to give you a ten-minute time block."

"You … what?"

"Got West to give you a ten-minute time block," Gilbert repeated calmly.

After Prussia said it a second time, it seemed to sink in to the Canadian's mind. Which wasn't a good thing, because it caused him to freak out. And not a minor freak out, either; it was a major, spazzing, flailing, eyes-bugging-out, talking-a-mile-a-minute, holy-sweet-whale-carcass-Germany-is-making-out-with-Romano, un-awesome freak out. It would've been fun to watch (after all, without schadenfreude, there would be no freude) if Prussia wasn't so worried that Canada would fall into something and hurt himself.

…

Wait just a second. Since when was Prussia, the egotistic, self-loving bastard, concerned about the welfare of others?

Was Poland suddenly straight or something?

Minor world crisis aside, it had been ten minutes, and the normally-quiet Matthew was still panicking.

"– and what if they all stare at me like they don't know who I am, because they don't know who I am, and they all ignore me, and Greece and Turkey start a war in the middle of the meeting again, and a hippopotamus falls out of nowhere, and Italy gets pregnant for no apparent reason whatsoever, and I bet nobody is even reading this because they all want to skip to the make-out scene at the end of the fan fiction, and something gets set on fire, and Hungary goes off on an evil rampage with her frying pan, and Switzerland starts shooting everyone except Austria and Liechtenstein, and I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY OH MON DIEU –"

"Mattie," Gilbert said firmly, taking a hold of the Canadian's shoulders and shaking him until he stopped blabbering. For such a weakling, he had surprisingly awesome shoulders – all firm and muscular, maybe from his lumberjack work and wilderness trecks, and …

…

Anyway.

"You'll tell them that you're awesome and you know it and you won't be ignored anymore," the Prussian explained simply.

This only seemed to upset the Canadian further.

"But I don't know how!" he wailed. "I don't know how to be awesome! Gil, how do you do it? HOW THE HELL DO YOU DO IT?"

Oh, Gott. Mattie was swearing. Mattie never swore. Maybe this was a mistake …

Nah. Gilbert hadn't made a mistake. He was too awesome to make mistakes.

The Prussian sighed. Might as well tell the truth. "Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I don't know."

"You don't –"

"I've always been awesome. I've always known I was awesome. I was born awesome, and verdammt, I'm gonna die awesome. Actually, if I died, the world would probably explode from the lack of awesomeness caused by my death, and –"

Gilbert was interrupted by a loud SMASH! Mattie was breaking the furniture now. Definitely not good.

Prussia would've stopped him – the hotel probably wouldn't be thrilled about the destruction of the room, and he didn't want Canada to get hurt or anything because of it – but he knew all too well that sometimes, destroying things is necessary in the process of getting one's anger out (although he usually used a crop, not a hockey stick.)

"It's not fair, dammit!"

CRASH!

"Why does it have to be so –"

BOOM!

"– hard for me and so –"

SMASH!

"– easy for you?"

THUD!

"All you have to do is –"

THWONK!

"– believe you're awesome, and … wait a second …"

The Canadian paused in his stress relief (with his hockey stick dangerously close to Prussia's precious five meters) and stared straight at the Prussian, who would've found it creepy if he hadn't been so mesmerized by Matthew's beautiful violet eyes.

"All you have to do is believe you're awesome. So, if I believed I was awesome … OH MON DIEU, THAT'S IT!"

The click of a light bulb going on in Canada's head was almost audible.

"What's it?" Gilbert asked. But he was ignored as Matthew began to laugh hysterically and dance around the room like Justin Bieber had just died (and saved Canada from an obscenely large amount of ridicule in the process.)

"I'm awesome! I'M AWESOME I'M AWESOME I'M AWESOME! I'm Matthew Williams; I'm Canada; and I'm awesome! Did you hear that, Gil? Did you hear that, Kuma-kiku-whatsyourface? Did you hear that, Gilibird? Did you hear that, world? I'm awesome! Awesome is what I am! I'M AWESOME!"

Once again, Prussia could do nothing but watch, but for a different reason this time. It was the first time since he'd met Matthew that he'd seen the Canadian truly happy, and he was really enjoying the sight.

You should laugh more often, Mattie, he thought. It suits you.

And then, Gilbert discovered something:

Ever since he'd decided that Mattie was awesome, all he'd wanted was for Mattie to realize it himself.

What did that mean? He didn't know. He'd never valued another's happiness above his own before.

So, what was Prussia going to do to find out?

Get dead drunk, of course.

Everyone knows that everything makes more sense when you're drunk.

"Hey, Mattie, wanna go out drinking with me to celebrate how awesome you are?"

"Sure, but only if it's an awesome bar worthy of my awesome presence! Hahaha!"

There was one crucial fact that both awesome nations, high off Matthew's awesome enlightenment, neglected to consider when they made that plan.

(Not that that was a bad thing, of course. It was just something that, if considered, would have greatly changed future events. Or at least slowed them down a little bit. Actually, it probably wouldn't have changed much at all. But that doesn't sound at all dramatic and good-story-ish, so … um … yeah, just forget this paragraph-in-parentheses ever happened.)

This fact was, in fact, mentioned earlier in the story.

When Prussia's drinking level reaches the complete-loss-of-inhibitions stage, he has sex with whomever happens to be closest to him.

This particular night, the person who happened to be closest to him was an (also very drunk) Canadian.

*cue ominous music*

The plot thickens! Or something. -.- What will happen next? 0.o

Of course, I know what will happen next. 'Cause I'm the AWESOME author. Kesesese~

I type faster if I get more reviews, though! *Hint hint* u.o <---*wink (?)*

PINEAPPLES~ ^v^

No, wait- PANCAKES~ OvO

Ja, PANCAKES. :)